And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.

[silence_excolo]

Thursday, July 8th [Day 403]
Early morning
Carnivale lot

Rain. It rained. Yesterday. Good. My bucket should be full of water.

Can't seem to get the energy to trek to the showers today. The little leak in my roof drips into that bucket. I can use that, try to wash up some. Should be clean enough.

Can't remember the last time I was this sick. Skipped out

Comments

[tereixa_zann]

"Tez died a few weeks 'go. Back when Genny came back t'erself," and I can't think of a damn thing to say. He wasn't around much, exactly, and after everything I can't say it feel like hearing about family dying, but I still feel off for a second, knowing that he won't be back not just that he's gone. I'm about to ask how but when Syl adds "Wuz th'only way t'heal'er," I decide that that can wait for right now.

And I will be damned if I can add anything to what Silence says, and so I just take away the glass when she's done. Even the Doc never had it this bad that I saw.

"Zann," Syl says, and I look up, "y'c'n stay if'n y'like, but keep outta th'way, an' know't't might get ugly. An' if'n I say run, run."

"Will do," I say quietly, and step up and back against one of the walls, and put the glass down so that my hands are free, in case anything comes up. I mean, if nothing else, having your hands free makes opening doors go that tiny bit faster.

[syl_thorn]

Silence tells me t'be careful, an' tells me't she's ready. Zann's a good girl, she stands near th'door, hands free, an' she stands ready. Good girl. Good girl.

I take th'pigment first, use m'fingers t'paint a protective glyph on m'brow, m'heart. Do th'same fer Zann. "Jes' hush, honey. I dunno if'n'is thing might try t'jump ship when I start drawin't out. This oughta keep ya safe." Oughta, 't least. Ain't much I c'n do, otherwise.

Find m'silver pendant'n hang't 'round m'neck. Shieldin' magic. Safe magic. An'en I turn back t'Silence. I havva jar'a bonemeal, there's rosemary'n sea salt't m'elbow. I lean over Silence, touch'er forehead wit' ash, crumble bonemeal on'er tongue. An'I hold'er eyes wit' m'own, an'I say, "Who are you?"

[silence_excolo]

Syl wards herself & Zann, & I can see enough to know the weave of her work. She then hangs a pendant round her neck, not unlike the one I made myself, with a less specific purpose. I follow her motions with my eyes as she opens the jar of ash. It smells of death, old death, and fire.

My guts squirm but I hold still.

Zann stays near the door, well out of reach. Good.

As Syl bends over me, smearing the ash on my forehead, my eyes blink out of reflex. But it feels like maybe some of the ash got in my eyes - they're gritty all of the sudden. I blink harder.

She pulls my jaw down & crumbles more ash on my tongue & my mouth goes dry in an instant. I can't seem to close it. Death in my mouth, in my eyes & my vision's gone dark & red around the edges. Syl stares into my eyes & I can hardly see her.

"Who are you?" And I can't speak. Can't breathe. The words echo, I can feel the thrum of their Power crawl along my skin, into my eyes, my mouth, my ears. And I'm fighting it. I don't want to, but I am

[tereixa_zann]

I know it's coming, but when Syl puts the mark on my forehead I have to work to not reach up and touch it. I mean, I manage, it's just that it makes me think of Genny again. It's been one hell of a year, I guess, it really has. And I feel my fingers jittering a bit, and lace them together, and I really want a cigarette.

And I wait, I tense up a bit when the shaking starts but I wait, and then Silence's grin is carved across her face, I can't remember ever seeing her really smile and now this, she looks like one of the gaffs Betrayal used to have as a draw out front, the one that crawled up out of its jar one night and went creeping.

"Oh God," very quiet, don't want to be a distraction, and what the hell is this now?

[syl_thorn]

Bed shakes. Ain't no more'n I 'spect. Sometimes these thin's get pissy when y'haul'em outta hidin'. Ain't no more'n a kid hangin' onta'a doorframe cuz'e don't wanna come out. Least fer now. I hold Silence's eyes, watch's'ey cloud, go dark, an'en go clear, bright.

Th'shakin' stops. My name is Mok." an' she grins. "Thanks. A lot."

"Don't thank me yet." I snort. "Cuz y'ain't goin' nowhere." Look down at'er...at't, anyway. "Y'ain't th'same fella I was talkin' to b'fore, are ya?"

[silence_excolo]

"Oh God," comes across the room in a whisper and my skin goosepimples. "God, mmm, have not been called that in a while..." and I look over to the little one near the entrance, her eyes bright with wonder and fear. "Do please, continue if you like." I chuckle low in my chest and breathe in deep the scent of this place. An intoxicating mix of sweat, dirt, herbs and magic, and my eyes half close in the pleasure of it. I wonder where I am?

"Don't thank me yet, Cuz y'ain't goin' nowhere," the tall woman snorts in a voice like stripped bark. I let out the breath through my lips with a slow, deliberate exhale and look up at her. "Wouldn't dream ovit, luv," comes the response, playing a bit with her rustic brogue. It just rolls off the tongue. I have so missed talking! Among other things.

She seems to look me over and I do the same for her - her frame is so thin and hardened, like a well-used whipping cane. I imagine what her skin must feel like, all sun-tanned and scarred, and my lips curl.

"Y'ain't th'same fella I was talkin' to b'fore,

[tereixa_zann]

"God, mmm, have not been called that in a while... Do please, continue if you like."

"I'm talking about you, not to you, honey," patter coming back quick and easy. God, huh? Well, geez, the popcorn cart worked okay on Anushka's god, for a moment, and I'm not saying she's going to be enough to make the situation easy but I am glad Syl's here. Shrug a little and glance over at her. "Is it another one?"

[syl_thorn]

Zann snaps back't'm, an'I smile. Zann ain't never been 'fraid'a much, an' she's always quick on th'draw.

Meantime, Mok, 'r whoever, 's grinnin't me. "Fella? I am fairly certain these are breasts, albeit small."

Snort. "Tits don't make a woman, 'spec'ally when't ain't yer body't ye're wearin'. Silence might be a she, but got no idea what th'fuck you might be."

"Yes, dear witch, it was I that kissed you, and do not pretend it was not... fun. So earthy and raw. And I do thank you, for it was that kiss that helped break me free from my prison. Like rubbing the lamp, you might say, except I cannot grant wishes... well, not most wishes,"

Doubt't'at's true. Even if'n th'kiss leant'im some power, it wuzzim't started it, an's harder t'drain power like'at. An'm still thinkin't Silence's fever had somethin' t'do wit' whatever'is is stirrin'. Whatever'e is, cert'nly seems t'havva high 'pinion ovvimself.

"Well, it seems I am hungry! Would you have some spare morsels? I am sure we could all do with a meal."Nod. "Zann, there's

[silence_excolo]

"I meant no harm, girl," but I am smiling at her fiery spirit. She has a quick tongue, this one. "Merely an expression. After all, have you never had anyone call you god during a... moment of passion? If not, perhaps you should practice. To whit, I gladly offer my services." Oh, words, how you do amuse me! I watch to see if she rankles, but she strikes me as the curious kind, albeit cautious. "Honey, however, is nice, if that is what you prefer."

The tall witch seems to be convinced I am not what I seem, which is mostly true. "Silence might be a she, but got no idea what th'fuck you might be."

And there is an echo to that word. "Silence. Silence?" The name of this form, I suppose. I seem to remember something about silence, of blood and daggers. Of power. And anger. And pain. "What a silly name," I retort, a sudden vitriol threatening to taint my mood. I tamp it down

[tereixa_zann]

"I meant no harm, girl Merely an expression. After all, have you never had anyone call you god during a... moment of passion?" and I'm about to say that once, yes, and I thought it was sweet but silly, 'cause there is a difference between having someone call on god and actually having them call you g--

"If not, perhaps you should practice. To whit, I gladly offer my services." and I'm staring for a second before I crack up.

"Oh, honey," I say, "I have no idea if you know how damn weird that sounds coming from her mouth. And no, thank you, not in the habit of hooking up with people who don't at least have their own skin."

She--he, it--doesn't seem that big on the salt, and pardon if that isn't slowing me down a bit. And I'm glad to stick around for the conversation, honestly. I can't say if Silence really is squatting, has been for all these years, but the charmer here is really coming across like a bit of a townie and I know whose side I'm standing on. Family, after all.

[syl_thorn]

"Hmph, I suppose it will have to do. But have you not anything a bit richer? Perhaps something sweet? No? Oh well, beggars and all that." An'en she bloody complains 'bout th'salt. More I see'f'is bitch, th'more I wanna get Silence back.

"Ye're a bloody guest 'n m'home an' if'n y'don't like what I give ya ye're welcome t'go fuck yerself." I says, tearin' offa piece'a bread wit' m'teeth. Really still ain't sure what we got'ere. So damned hard t'sense, 'spec'ally'n th'body'a somebody I know.

But she sure seems t'think't th'thought'a takin' Silence's body's funny. "Oh. Oh my. I think, I think there has been some misunderstanding. I am not who you should be concerned with casting out. It is she, this Silence, as you call her. She had possessed me! Or perhaps trapped me is more accurate. I do not go about 'possessing' silly girls with stupid names. This is my body. Or at least, it was at some point." She stuffs'er face wit' food, an' right 'way'er eyes go bright. "Oh! So good! Is there more?""No more meat, but here, some bread

[silence_excolo]

Oh, this Zann is a charmer, if I do say so myself! She has such an easy sense of motion about her, and while I sense she does not fully trust me, she has relaxed. Good.

The witch chides me with a crassness I find amusing. "Ye're a bloody guest 'n m'home an' if'n y'don't like what I give ya ye're welcome t'go fuck yerself," to which I cannot help but laugh. "As you wish, hostess," as I all but inhale her offering. She gives me some more bread at least, and I force myself to piece it apart, taking one bite at a time. The witch continues to question my current appearance, and parsing out the bread gives me some time to think.

"How to answer without giving too much of myself away?" I wink at her humorless expression, then sigh, rolling my eyes when she fails to react. "There are what seem to be... gaps in my memory. I remember my name, obviously, and my wit, and apparently my love of sweets." I give Zann an appreciative glance before continuing. "But while this name of Silence is familiar, I cannot say how I have come to be... here."

[tereixa_zann]

"Ye're a bloody guest 'n m'home an' if'n y'don't like what I give ya ye're welcome t'go fuck yerself," and I crack a grin at that, put one hand over my mouth and step back as Syl digs for details. I can't say it exactly makes much sense, but if I had to work up a rough model of it, Silence moved into the driver's seat, and then rebuilt the body around the engine.

...and I can't even blame this particular slice of weird on Excolo, go figure.

"What is this place I am in, anyway? Some sort of witch's cabal?" and that's kind of interesting, 'cause you can figure out that Syl's in that line of work, but a cabal means more than one, and I wonder what she's picking up.

[syl_thorn]

"How to answer without giving too much of myself away? There are what seem to be... gaps in my memory. I remember my name, obviously, and my wit, and apparently my love of sweets. But while this name of Silence is familiar, I cannot say how I have come to be... here. I am quite certain this is my body. It is not, however, my form. I also feel there has been quite the passage of time, somehow..."

This feels more honest t'me'n mosta th'other drivel comin' outta'er mouth. I c'n see th'confusion on'er face, an' ferra sec, jes' a sec, she looks lost. Still don't trust'er, mind, but't least I ain't so convinced she's lyin'.

"What is this place I am in, anyway? Some sort of witch's cabal?"

"No, 't's a witch's home." I says, flat. Ain't never made a secret'a what I do, an' ain't gonna start now. God, I jes' can't getta read on'er. There's somethin' ovver't reads like somma th'spirits've exorcized, there's somethin' ovver't reads like Tez...one thin' I am bloody sure of izzat she ain't human. "So then, what's yer true form?"

[silence_excolo]

The witch informs me I am in her home, and really, that was obvious. "No, I meant here on the larger scale, not simply my current confines. Or are we in a desert, devoid of other living beings?" I know we are not, as I can hear the noise of feet walking past, voices carried on the wind, and the creaking of things man-made along with the rustling of leaves. And if I am not mistaken, a river. This must be a fertile land in which I have awoken. I look again towards Zann - she is short but healthy, of strong build, showing an upbringing of at least adequate nutrition and hard labor. So, no great drought or recent starvation, at least

[tereixa_zann]

"I gather you, Zann, do not live here. And that this form does not, unless the three of us usually share this one, tiny pallet? I shall not complain if such is the case." And hearing it from Silence...

"Oh, honey, you say that," I say lightly, grinning a bit lopsidedly. "But then it's all you snore like a freight train and watch your elbow and yelping over cold feet."

"So then, what's yer true form?" Syl asks, and oh. Dammit, thinking so much about switching up engines that that didn't exactly occur to me. I wonder how it changed, too--not what it changed from, but the mechanics and the motion, the shift and turn and rebalancing from old until new, blood and breath and sinew born and reshaped.

"How does one describe the sun to one who cannot see?" And I'm thinking of the heterodyne; sad and golden and that feeling of sunlight and the singing air, the wind in the world like a shout of joy and a day that could last forever, and at the heart of him a song, oh such a song; and touching the mirror and the space of Tez's foot, when