The Nice and Accurate Stories of Sursum Ursa, Witch - a Denny's Court fanfic
Title: The Nice and Accurate Stories of Sursum Ursa, Witch
Word Count: 4,427 (aprox.)
Rating: R for swearing, attempted human sacrifice, and sexual themes.
Pairings, Characters: Sursum Ursa/That SciFiGuy, The Porn Critic, Linkara, Derek the Bard, Howard Philips Lovecraft, D&D Group (OCs)
Warnings: Masturbation, attempted human sacrifice, references to orgies, racist remarks from H. P. Lovecraft.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, mean no disrespect, etc.
Summary: Sursum Ursa, witch, arrives in the City, becomes roommates with the Porn Critic, joins a D&D group, meets a zombie, and invokes an archaic law to save the life of her not-boyfriend.
A/N: Well, this has been a long time coming. Intro Denny’s Court fic for Sursum Ursa, the Porn Critic, Derek the Bard, H. P. Lovecraft, and That SciFiGuy. They are now officially introduced into this AU!
Ursa waits in front of the door, suitcases at her feet. It was a long, exhausting journey to this city, and she’s been nervous about this meeting for weeks. She’s about to meet her roommate, and move into her new apartment, and she doesn’t have a lot of information to go on.
Taking a deep breath, Ursa knocks on the door.
“Coming!” yells a voice from inside the apartment. After some shuffling noises and a muffled crash, the door is yanked open.
A pale man with brown hair and glasses stares at her. He’s wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and his belt is loosely buckled.
“Hi, I’m Sursum Ursa.” Ursa smiles in what she hopes is a friendly way.
“Well, hello there, roomie,” he waggles his eyebrows and grins. He’s not quite lascivious, he doesn’t leer, but it’s a close thing.
Ursa stares at him. “All of the hell no.” She turns to leave.
“Wait!” he yelps, waving his arms. “You have to stay! My last roommate left for England and he got stuck in a cursed maze! If I don’t get a roommate who’s been certified by the Coven to practice magic, the local Vampire Lord sends his goons to evict me! Please!”
Ursa stops, because it’s the truth. The local Lord wants to keep track of the supernatural population. Witches have to stick together, or at least room with fellow supernatural creatures. And there aren’t many willing to share space with humans. Rent is high and with all the colleges in town, rooms are rare.
She needs this space, and he needs her.
“Right, but let’s get one thing straight,” Ursa glares at the pasty man. “I am not sleeping with you. Ever. You will respect me, my privacy, my personal space, and my clothing. Got it?”
“Got it!” he nods. “Um, let’s start over, shall we? Hi, I’m Dick … er, I mean, Richard!” he sticks out his hand.
Repressing a flinch, Ursa shakes his hand. “Ursa.”
“Can I, uh, help you with your bags?” he offers.
Ursa shrugs, and lets him lug the heaviest of the lot.
“Your room is down the hall, on the left! Christ, these are heavy …”
“Spellbooks.”
“Nice. I’m more of a digital man, myself. Got a couple nice leatherbounders for the rituals. Nobody looks classy holding a laptop in front of a ritual circle.”
“Mmmm.” Ursa just wants to unpack and go to sleep.
The room is as it was advertized online: small, double windows, a 3-quarter bed and some minimal furniture cramped around the edges. The closet has a few plastic hangers in it, and a wrinkled raincoat. There are bookcases sticking out of the walls, and a naked bulb dangling from the ceiling.
It’s clean, at least: there’s no visible dust and no awkward stains. Ursa dumps her bags and turns to Richard. “I’d like to see the roof now, please.”
He takes her through a door in the kitchen and up a cramped staircase, which leads to the roof. A few plastic deck chairs are scattered about, some dying plants in buckets rustle listlessly. A brimming ashtray is balanced on a vent. Someone was doodling runes in it.
The view is quite nice, and Ursa can tell that the moon will be visible from here.
“Ok, this’ll do nicely.” Ursa nods, smiling to herself. Weird roommate, but the space is just what she needs. She’ll make this work.
“Fancy a cuppa?” Richard offers.
… this might be easier than she initially expected.
~*~
She begins to settle into a rhythm. Working at the coffee shop/bookstore a few blocks away, supplementing her income by making potions and charms for people in the supernatural community. Nothing too fancy, nothing to attract any unwanted attention, but Ursa soon acquires a decent reputation and gets a steady stream of clients. She holds interviews at the table in the kitchen, as the living room is covered in Richard’s DVDs and sex ritual books.
One day, while browsing a non-magical comic book store downtown, she notices a flyer stuck up by the door: “Tabletop Gaming Group: Wednesdays at 7pm! Beginners Welcome! Bring your own dice!”
Ursa hasn’t gamed since college, and she still has a bag of dice in her sock drawer.
She snaps a picture of the poster with her phone before bringing her Sandman omnibuses to the counter.
When she returns home, she finds Richard covered in a red, sticky-looking substance.
“Is that blood?” she asks, stifling the urge to scream.
“What?” he blinks, and licks his finger. “Oh, no! This is just jam!” he extends his arm. “Strawberry … wanna taste?”
Ursa sighs, shaking her head. “Take a cold shower, Richard.”
“No time! The lunar eclipse is upon us! I only have forty minutes to finish this up before my friends arrive! I need these runes to be exact …”
Ursa is continually amazed that he takes the time to research his rituals properly. Then again, his kind of research probably leads to jerking off in the library stacks, giddy at the thought of being discovered by one of the new young library assistants. Unlike hers, which consists of dusty tomes and sound-blocking headphones because there’s never enough silence to keep her completely focused.
She breaks out those headphones once she hears Richard’s friends beginning to arrive. They’re a loud bunch - laughing, shrieking, chanting types whom she’s already grown to loathe after only being in town for three weeks.
Still, they clean up after themselves decently enough, and the rent is affordable. She hasn’t gone looking for a new place to live.
~*~
There’s an obligatory and anxiety-inducing meeting with the local Vampire Lord’s consort, Linkara. Ursa debates about what to wear for a solid hour and strongly considers taking some of the drugs Richard keeps in the medicine cabinet for rituals, to focus and calm herself down. She doesn’t, but it’s a near thing.
Linkara, it turns out, isn’t that scary of a guy, considering all the stories she’s heard. Tall, attractive, nice hat, dark coat and visible muscles. He’s certainly fit, no doubt about that, and Ursa can tell how someone like him attracted the eye of a centuries-old vampire.
The meeting is more of a formality than anything else, Linkara going down a checklist of things Richard has mostly gone over already. Ursa signs some papers, feels the flicker of a magically binding contract with each stroke of the pen, and pricks her finger and daubs some blood beside each signature.
“Spoony’s been after me to delegate more. With my increased duties as Consort, I have less time to patrol and investigate matters in the city. Would you be willing to take on minor duties now and then, especially where we feel a magic user would be most effective?”
Ursa nods. “Yes, of course.”
“Great!” Linkara beams, and reaches over the shake her hand. “A long delayed welcome to our fair city.”
~*~
The gaming group turns out to be just what Ursa needed. No politics, no religious debates, no vampires. Just a bunch of humans hanging out for hours at a time, making geeky references and eating horribly unhealthy food and rolling dice. They cycle through a few different games very quickly as they get to know each other. Members leave and newcomers become regulars. They play a Serenity campaign for a while, a few weeks of D&D, and briefly a truly cringe-worthy Vampire The Masquerade storyline before settling on the Dresden Files RPG.
Ursa plays a Werebear and kicks all kinds of ass in the fictionalized Seattle setting. The GM, Kelly, works from home and comes up with brilliant story twists and turns. Tamika and Suzanne are friends from one of the local colleges who bring cookies every week and play a Focused Practitioner and a True Believer respectively. Greg, an indie comic book artist, plays a Pure Mortal for the challenge of things.
Then there’s Leo, who works at the shop, and gets called “that SciFi Guy” so much that it’s become a nickname of sorts. He plays a Wizard and keeps track of how to play spells in combat better than even Kelly does. Ursa has to stifle laughter at times because of how different actual magic is from the way it’s handled in the game, and how enthusiastic SciFi Guy gets about flinging fireballs around. He lives not too far from Ursa’s place, actually, and they often ride the subway together after a gaming session.
Ursa is tempted several times to invite SciFi Guy up for tea, but thinks about the times she’s come home to Richard dancing around the living room naked and chanting with a couple of his friends in hooded robes, or tripped over the unconscious bodies of the aftermath of a “ritualistic orgy,” or just walked in on Richard wanking to the latest porn parody in the living room and full view of the front door. Best not to risk SciFi Guy seeing that. Ursa makes vague excuses about her “weird roommate” and comes over to SciFi Guy’s place for movies and popcorn a few times. It’s … nice. They aren’t dating, though Tamika and Suzanne are starting to giggle and cast them meaningful glances during gaming sessions.
Yeah, they’re not dating. SciFi Guy just thinks of her as a friend, right? Ursa would totally notice if he was feeling something else about her. They’re just friends. Good friends. Watching movies. Sharing snacks. Borrowing each other’s books (her Discworld novels to him, his Dresden Files volumes to her.) Introducing each other to new and exciting Adagio tea blends.
Completely and totally not dating. At all.
~*~
Ursa gets a call from someone who speaks for the Vampire Lord and his Consort. There are rumors of suspicious activity at a local college library, and Linkara is too busy to check it out. One of the librarians is suspected of being some kind of zombie, or perhaps just a very strange man. Either way, Ursa has been tasked with investigating it, and sending a report to an unlisted phone number as soon as possible.
With some trepidation, Ursa packs a bag with miscellaneous small items, mostly spell components, and mace, and a water bottle, and heads over to the library. If things get bad, she can call Richard for backup, though she’d really rather not. Richard would probably try to seduce whatever evil thing had managed to corner her, and damn the STIs he’d suffer as a result.
The library is sparsely populated at the hour she arrives. It’s open to the public, though it’s primarily used by the students of the college it’s attached to. Ursa has been meaning to come here for months now, intrigued by their occult history section she’s browsed online.
She wanders the stacks for a while, scoping the place out and reaching out with her magical senses. There are no ghosts floating around, no suspicious activity, not even an itch at the back of her neck.
Well, that is, until she lingers by the restricted area at the back of the library and a gaunt man seizes her and drags her through a set of double doors, growling and drooling onto her sweater.
Ursa reacts on instinct, twisting her hand and summoning fire. Pink and red flames crackle to life in her palm. For good measure, she drives her elbow into the gaunt man’s side.
He recoils, first from the pain, and then from the fire.
“Back, you madwoman!” he holds up his arms defensively. “Do not unleash your otherwordly powers upon us! Save yourself, forsake the dark forces you have probed, before it is too late!”
Ursa blinks. “Wait, what?”
The room is small, a cozy little office with a cot wedged in behind some filing cabinets. A man with a red beard and a fancy top hat is seated behind a desk, in the middle of an ancient looking book. He stares at Ursa and the gaunt man, and sighs heavily, closing his book.
“Howard,” the man in the top hat says soothingly, as one might speak to a child. “You’re getting cranky. It’s time for your shot.”
“Oh, very well!” the gaunt man sneers and holds out his arm.
The man in the top hat pulls a metal case from his desk drawer. He takes out a glowing syringe, and injects the gaunt man, who promptly keels over, hissing and groaning, for several minutes. That done, he straightens up, shaking himself, and stares at Ursa, looking flustered and sheepish.
“I do apologize, young lady. I was … rather overcome, by … emotions. Yes. Apparently those who manipulate the dark powers are not to be feared, but … embraced.” He attempts a smile, which looks more like he’d bitten into a lemon, inclines his head, and marches away towards the public section of the library.
“So … that happened.” Ursa rocks back on her heels, letting the fire flicker away.
“Yeah,” the man in the top hat puts the case away. “He’s a good guy, but if he doesn’t get his injections, he … starts ranting and raving, and then he starts trying to bite people’s arms off.”
Ursa nods, sitting down. “He a zombie of some kind?”
“He … yeah. I’m Derek, by the way? Derek the Librarian.” He holds out his hand.
Ursa shakes it carefully. “Sursum Ursa. I’m officially licensed by the Vampire Lord’s Consort to investigate paranormal activity.” She fishes out a metal crest from her purse and waves it vaguely in the air.
“Oh, this isn’t paranomal, this is science!” Derek declares gleefully.
Ursa raises an eyebrow.
“Ok, ok, it’s right on the line but … it’s science. I’m no wizard. I just cooked up this formula from Howard’s old books and … well, he was walking and talking and staggering around, stealing money from my wallet to buy suits from Goodwill. You do not want to know how tough it was to get him to stop yelling at the black students for coming in here and checking out books. He kept shrieking about miscegenation and stuff, it was awful.”
“And you can keep making this … formula? Indefinitely?”
“Oh, yeah, actually, all the components are easily found at any grocery store, really.”
“Ok …” Ursa considers the librarian. “I’ll submit my report, and suggest that you and Howard be left alone. If there’s any incidents of him going rogue and eating people, though, we’re going to have a different discussion. As in, there will be no discussion. As in, the Consort will come down here and decapitate Howard, and bring you in to the court to face the Vampire Lord’s judgment.”
“Understood.” Derek nods, looking pale and a little shaken.
Ursa feels that he’s gotten the message loud and clear. “Now, if you could walk me through getting a library card here?”
Derek is happy to help, and relaxes visibly going through the familiar motions of helping Ursa fill out paperwork with her information, and printing off a laminated card with her name and address on it.
“Well, until the next time you get lost down here,” he taps his hat, “I’m Derek the Librarian. Be seeing you!”
Ursa smiles tentatively at him, and leaves the library. She’ll be back soon enough, after all, to return the books.
~*~
“How was your work for the Vampire’s Mistress?” Richard asks after Ursa gets off the phone from making her report.
“Surprisingly dull. There was a zombie though.”
“Was it a sexy naked zombie?” Richard asks eagerly.
“Nope. Creepy vaguely-racist fully-clothed zombie.”
“Oh,” Richard slumps. “Well, that’s no fun.”
“Yeah, it really wasn’t.” Ursa glances around the room. “How’d it go, tonight?”
“Wonderful! Those new girls from up north were here, they’re very … enthusiastic.”
“I can imagine,” Ursa pours herself some tea. “You want some?”
“Yes, please!” Richard accepts the mug from her and practically inhales it. “Need some caffeine in me, a lot of studying tonight.”
“Some holiday coming up?”
“Uh, something like that …” Richard looks a little bashful. “It’s something we’ve been working up to for a while. Er, might not be a good idea for you to be about that night, it could get … messy?”
Ursa holds up her hands. “I don’t need to know details. I’ll keep my headphones on and make it an early night. Have fun … doing whatever.”
Richard nods. “Seriously, though, it’s going to be … very messy. I wouldn’t venture out until sunrise.”
“Duly noted.” Ursa takes her tea to her room.
~*~
Ursa is heading out for some milk - Richard’s drunk it all, again, and hasn’t put up a note to buy more - and pulling her jacket closed against the damp night air. It’s just starting to get late enough that the moon is visible between the buildings around her. She smiles, feeling its light on her face, flickers of power ghosting across her skin.
Muffled yelling from the courtyard behind her apartment building gives her pause. Ursa sneaks down the alleyway, straining to hear what’s going on.
“Look, you can just let me go!” yells an oddly familiar voice.
“We really can’t, I’m so sorry,” Richard wheedles.
Ursa finds her path obstructed by a huge length of black plastic. She creeps along the edge, trying to find a slit or an opening somewhere along it.
“Er, I’m afraid we have to, uh, kill you …” Richard says.
Ursa gives up on finding an opening and summons fire, burning her way through the plastic and into the center of the courtyard.
She finds a huddle of hooded figures, staring intently at Richard, who’s holding a large curved knife in a shaky hand. The tarps are strung up around the courtyard, obscuring the place from the windows of the surrounding apartment buildings. There’s a circle on the ground, symbols sketched in charcoal littered around red and black candles. And in the center of that circle, tied up and terrified, is …
“SciFi Guy?!” Ursa yelps.
Everyone whirls around. One of the hooded figures gets tangled in his robe and topples into another.
“What the hell is going on here?!” Ursa growls, shoving aside the hooded figures and coming to a stop in front of Richard, who apparently has enough decency to look embarrassed.
“Ursa?” SciFi Guy asks, bewildered.
“SciFi Guy?” Richard snorts. “What kind of a name is that?”
“Oh gee, I don’t know, Dick, why don’t you let him go and you can discuss etymology?” Ursa glares. “This ritual is a clear violation of City Laws, as decreed by the Vampire Lord. You could all be killed for this.”
Some of the followers mutter amongst themselves, worried.
“Oh, and don’t even think about taking me out, if I don’t make a report, they send someone nasty to check things out, someone who doesn’t ask questions so much as punch people into next week.” Ursa points at the circle. “Stop this, now, Richard. And we’ll just forget all about this impromptu human sacrifice.”
“But he knows now, Ursa! He’s some Average Joe who found out about the Masquerade!” Richard whines, waving at SciFi Guy with his dagger. “You know what’ll happen to him if the Vampire Lord finds out he’s been blabbering around town about crazy cults and vampires! Look, he’s as good as dead already, at least let me put his death to good use … you could participate too! The demon we’re summoning is very old, very powerful, he could give you knowledge -”
Ursa hits him so hard his glasses go flying.
Silence falls on the courtyard.
Richard straightens up, rubbing at his jaw. “You can hit me all you like, Ursa, but I’m not wrong. The Vampire Lord will have him dealt with and you know what that means. He’s going to die regardless.”
Ursa’s face creases.
SciFi Guy gulps audibly.
“Wait!” Ursa raises a hand. “I think I remember something, some arcane law … put into practice in the 15th Century I think. ‘Should an outsider be condemned to death for having witnessed the Society, or having acquired knowledge of the Society through no fault of their own, any member of the Society may take the outsider under their protection, to spare them from execution.’ I’ll do that, thanks.”
“The 15th Century? Really? We’re going that far back?” Richard grumbled.
“Legal precedent’s a bitch.” Ursa holds out her hand. “Give me the knife, Richard.”
Richard sighs heavily, nodding, and hands her the knife, handle first. She takes it, knuckles white from tension.
“Right … everybody, let’s clear out of here. Ritual … over.” Richard scuffs at the circle and some of the symbols. A follower begins dousing and collecting the candles.
As they file out of the courtyard, Ursa crouches down beside SciFi Guy, cutting away the ropes.
“Oh god …” SciFi stays on the ground, wrapping his arms around himself. “Oh god … oh god …”
“Are you hurt?” Ursa asks, checking his arms and face.
“No I … I’m not hurt …” SciFi looks at her. “Is this a dream? A really fucked-up dream?”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s not.” Ursa sighs. “Come upstairs, we have a lot to talk about.”
~*~
The next gaming session goes terribly. SciFi Guy can’t seem to focus, he forgets how to roll for spellcasting and keeps staring at Ursa.
“Did you two have a fight?” Tamika asks when they take a snack break and the rest of the group has left to get food at the nearby Chinese restaurant.
“What? No!”
“Did you like, turn him down or something? Did he try to get handsy with you?” Tamika glares. “Because we can talk to Kelly, get him kicked out if he’s making you that uncomfortable …”
“No, it’s … it’s nothing like that …” Ursa shakes her head. “Thanks, though.”
Tamika shrugs and munches on an apple.
When they come back, Greg has some good news, and bad news: he’s leaving the group because he got a job out in LA. His comic book has taken off and he’s been picked up by a big label, who are interested in a potential TV show pilot.
The rest of the game that night is focused on wrapping things up for Greg’s character, sending him off into the sunset. There’s a lot of hugging and well wishing, everyone lingering, not wanting to see Greg go but happy for his success.
“Tamika noticed something was off,” Ursa says as she and SciFi Guy walk to the subway station.
SciFi Guy freezes. “You’re not gonna turn me in, are you?” he asks, voice panicky.
“What? No, nothing like that!” Ursa shakes her head. “She was worried about us. Are you ok?”
“Not really,” SciFi Guy shrugs. “It’s kind of a lot to take in. I keep looking around, wondering who’s really who they say they are. What if the barista is a vampire? Or the mailman? Or the trash collectors? Or the women in front of me at the supermarket, what if they were trolls or something?” he lets out a shaky breath. “I just … I’ll be ok, it’s just … a difficult thing.”
“Well, if you get freaked out, you can call me, anytime, ok? Especially if anyone tries to mess with you. You’re under my protection, that means your business is my business.”
SciFi Guy nods. “Thank you, for … doing that. I just realized, I never properly thanked you. Sounds like you took a big risk, stepping in for me.”
Ursa wants to shrug it off, but she did take a huge risk. “Yeah, I did. You’re welcome.” She pats him on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ll miss the last train.”
~*~
“Oh, it’s you,” Richard looks SciFi Guy up and down and smirks. “How’s life treating you, being the witch’s bitch?”
“Richard,” Ursa warns, “be nice.”
“Well at least you’ve finally gotten yourself a proper familiar. Teach him some tricks, why don’t you? Make him carry your backbreaking books.” Richard buries himself back into his latest erotic spellbook.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just grumpy that he missed his window of opportunity to talk to some demon or another.”
“And incubus!” Richard wails. “A master of creating sin and lust, inspiring orgies every time his feet touched the ground … and I missed my chance to speak to him! To learn his secrets, to share in his vast knowledge …” Richard collapses onto the couch in a dramatic swoon. “Leave me to my suffering!”
“Let’s go,” Ursa dragged SciFi Guy down to her room. “That’s his code for ‘going to wank until I feel better.’”
“Oh,” SciFi Guy said faintly. “You weren’t kidding when you said your roommate was awkward.”
“Yeah.” Ursa sinks down onto her bed. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”
ScSciFi Guy sits down beside her. “I wanted to thank you,” he smiles and leans forward, about to kiss her.
Ursa pushes him back. “Whoa! Hold on!” she scrambles to her feet. “You don’t owe me anything. I was just doing my job.”
“But you saved my life,” SciFi Guy tilts his head. “And I thought … y’know …”
Ursa sighs heavily, rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows where she can feel a headache building. “Look, Leo, I … can we just take this slow, please? I’ve had a busy week and I honestly just wanted to watch a movie with you.”
“Ok,” SciFi Guy blushes. “Um … sorry about that. I made things weird.”
“Things were pretty weird already.” Ursa rifles through her DVD collection. “Cornetto Trilogy?”
“God yes,” SciFi Guy beams.
They settle in for a movie marathon.
~*~
Derek is at the next gaming session, still in his fancy hat. Howard is at his side, looking as displeased as ever. Ursa had mentioned the campaign during her latest library visit, and invited Derek to take Greg’s vacated spot around the table.
“And will you be joining us, Mr. …?” Kelly asks Howard.
“I do not … game.” Howard sneers. He sits on a chair in the corner, working his way through some Lovecraft-inspired comics and snickering. Occasionally he finds something particularly galling and leans over to show Derek, and exclaim in disbelief or anguish.
The group just learns to accept him. Derek is a fantastic player, even taking over as GM for a side campaign to let Kelly take a break and play a character of her own for a change.
SciFi Guy and Ursa sit side-by side, and if their legs start to brush against each other, well, nobody notices.
Word Count: 4,427 (aprox.)
Rating: R for swearing, attempted human sacrifice, and sexual themes.
Pairings, Characters: Sursum Ursa/That SciFiGuy, The Porn Critic, Linkara, Derek the Bard, Howard Philips Lovecraft, D&D Group (OCs)
Warnings: Masturbation, attempted human sacrifice, references to orgies, racist remarks from H. P. Lovecraft.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, mean no disrespect, etc.
Summary: Sursum Ursa, witch, arrives in the City, becomes roommates with the Porn Critic, joins a D&D group, meets a zombie, and invokes an archaic law to save the life of her not-boyfriend.
A/N: Well, this has been a long time coming. Intro Denny’s Court fic for Sursum Ursa, the Porn Critic, Derek the Bard, H. P. Lovecraft, and That SciFiGuy. They are now officially introduced into this AU!
Ursa waits in front of the door, suitcases at her feet. It was a long, exhausting journey to this city, and she’s been nervous about this meeting for weeks. She’s about to meet her roommate, and move into her new apartment, and she doesn’t have a lot of information to go on.
Taking a deep breath, Ursa knocks on the door.
“Coming!” yells a voice from inside the apartment. After some shuffling noises and a muffled crash, the door is yanked open.
A pale man with brown hair and glasses stares at her. He’s wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and his belt is loosely buckled.
“Hi, I’m Sursum Ursa.” Ursa smiles in what she hopes is a friendly way.
“Well, hello there, roomie,” he waggles his eyebrows and grins. He’s not quite lascivious, he doesn’t leer, but it’s a close thing.
Ursa stares at him. “All of the hell no.” She turns to leave.
“Wait!” he yelps, waving his arms. “You have to stay! My last roommate left for England and he got stuck in a cursed maze! If I don’t get a roommate who’s been certified by the Coven to practice magic, the local Vampire Lord sends his goons to evict me! Please!”
Ursa stops, because it’s the truth. The local Lord wants to keep track of the supernatural population. Witches have to stick together, or at least room with fellow supernatural creatures. And there aren’t many willing to share space with humans. Rent is high and with all the colleges in town, rooms are rare.
She needs this space, and he needs her.
“Right, but let’s get one thing straight,” Ursa glares at the pasty man. “I am not sleeping with you. Ever. You will respect me, my privacy, my personal space, and my clothing. Got it?”
“Got it!” he nods. “Um, let’s start over, shall we? Hi, I’m Dick … er, I mean, Richard!” he sticks out his hand.
Repressing a flinch, Ursa shakes his hand. “Ursa.”
“Can I, uh, help you with your bags?” he offers.
Ursa shrugs, and lets him lug the heaviest of the lot.
“Your room is down the hall, on the left! Christ, these are heavy …”
“Spellbooks.”
“Nice. I’m more of a digital man, myself. Got a couple nice leatherbounders for the rituals. Nobody looks classy holding a laptop in front of a ritual circle.”
“Mmmm.” Ursa just wants to unpack and go to sleep.
The room is as it was advertized online: small, double windows, a 3-quarter bed and some minimal furniture cramped around the edges. The closet has a few plastic hangers in it, and a wrinkled raincoat. There are bookcases sticking out of the walls, and a naked bulb dangling from the ceiling.
It’s clean, at least: there’s no visible dust and no awkward stains. Ursa dumps her bags and turns to Richard. “I’d like to see the roof now, please.”
He takes her through a door in the kitchen and up a cramped staircase, which leads to the roof. A few plastic deck chairs are scattered about, some dying plants in buckets rustle listlessly. A brimming ashtray is balanced on a vent. Someone was doodling runes in it.
The view is quite nice, and Ursa can tell that the moon will be visible from here.
“Ok, this’ll do nicely.” Ursa nods, smiling to herself. Weird roommate, but the space is just what she needs. She’ll make this work.
“Fancy a cuppa?” Richard offers.
… this might be easier than she initially expected.
~*~
She begins to settle into a rhythm. Working at the coffee shop/bookstore a few blocks away, supplementing her income by making potions and charms for people in the supernatural community. Nothing too fancy, nothing to attract any unwanted attention, but Ursa soon acquires a decent reputation and gets a steady stream of clients. She holds interviews at the table in the kitchen, as the living room is covered in Richard’s DVDs and sex ritual books.
One day, while browsing a non-magical comic book store downtown, she notices a flyer stuck up by the door: “Tabletop Gaming Group: Wednesdays at 7pm! Beginners Welcome! Bring your own dice!”
Ursa hasn’t gamed since college, and she still has a bag of dice in her sock drawer.
She snaps a picture of the poster with her phone before bringing her Sandman omnibuses to the counter.
When she returns home, she finds Richard covered in a red, sticky-looking substance.
“Is that blood?” she asks, stifling the urge to scream.
“What?” he blinks, and licks his finger. “Oh, no! This is just jam!” he extends his arm. “Strawberry … wanna taste?”
Ursa sighs, shaking her head. “Take a cold shower, Richard.”
“No time! The lunar eclipse is upon us! I only have forty minutes to finish this up before my friends arrive! I need these runes to be exact …”
Ursa is continually amazed that he takes the time to research his rituals properly. Then again, his kind of research probably leads to jerking off in the library stacks, giddy at the thought of being discovered by one of the new young library assistants. Unlike hers, which consists of dusty tomes and sound-blocking headphones because there’s never enough silence to keep her completely focused.
She breaks out those headphones once she hears Richard’s friends beginning to arrive. They’re a loud bunch - laughing, shrieking, chanting types whom she’s already grown to loathe after only being in town for three weeks.
Still, they clean up after themselves decently enough, and the rent is affordable. She hasn’t gone looking for a new place to live.
~*~
There’s an obligatory and anxiety-inducing meeting with the local Vampire Lord’s consort, Linkara. Ursa debates about what to wear for a solid hour and strongly considers taking some of the drugs Richard keeps in the medicine cabinet for rituals, to focus and calm herself down. She doesn’t, but it’s a near thing.
Linkara, it turns out, isn’t that scary of a guy, considering all the stories she’s heard. Tall, attractive, nice hat, dark coat and visible muscles. He’s certainly fit, no doubt about that, and Ursa can tell how someone like him attracted the eye of a centuries-old vampire.
The meeting is more of a formality than anything else, Linkara going down a checklist of things Richard has mostly gone over already. Ursa signs some papers, feels the flicker of a magically binding contract with each stroke of the pen, and pricks her finger and daubs some blood beside each signature.
“Spoony’s been after me to delegate more. With my increased duties as Consort, I have less time to patrol and investigate matters in the city. Would you be willing to take on minor duties now and then, especially where we feel a magic user would be most effective?”
Ursa nods. “Yes, of course.”
“Great!” Linkara beams, and reaches over the shake her hand. “A long delayed welcome to our fair city.”
~*~
The gaming group turns out to be just what Ursa needed. No politics, no religious debates, no vampires. Just a bunch of humans hanging out for hours at a time, making geeky references and eating horribly unhealthy food and rolling dice. They cycle through a few different games very quickly as they get to know each other. Members leave and newcomers become regulars. They play a Serenity campaign for a while, a few weeks of D&D, and briefly a truly cringe-worthy Vampire The Masquerade storyline before settling on the Dresden Files RPG.
Ursa plays a Werebear and kicks all kinds of ass in the fictionalized Seattle setting. The GM, Kelly, works from home and comes up with brilliant story twists and turns. Tamika and Suzanne are friends from one of the local colleges who bring cookies every week and play a Focused Practitioner and a True Believer respectively. Greg, an indie comic book artist, plays a Pure Mortal for the challenge of things.
Then there’s Leo, who works at the shop, and gets called “that SciFi Guy” so much that it’s become a nickname of sorts. He plays a Wizard and keeps track of how to play spells in combat better than even Kelly does. Ursa has to stifle laughter at times because of how different actual magic is from the way it’s handled in the game, and how enthusiastic SciFi Guy gets about flinging fireballs around. He lives not too far from Ursa’s place, actually, and they often ride the subway together after a gaming session.
Ursa is tempted several times to invite SciFi Guy up for tea, but thinks about the times she’s come home to Richard dancing around the living room naked and chanting with a couple of his friends in hooded robes, or tripped over the unconscious bodies of the aftermath of a “ritualistic orgy,” or just walked in on Richard wanking to the latest porn parody in the living room and full view of the front door. Best not to risk SciFi Guy seeing that. Ursa makes vague excuses about her “weird roommate” and comes over to SciFi Guy’s place for movies and popcorn a few times. It’s … nice. They aren’t dating, though Tamika and Suzanne are starting to giggle and cast them meaningful glances during gaming sessions.
Yeah, they’re not dating. SciFi Guy just thinks of her as a friend, right? Ursa would totally notice if he was feeling something else about her. They’re just friends. Good friends. Watching movies. Sharing snacks. Borrowing each other’s books (her Discworld novels to him, his Dresden Files volumes to her.) Introducing each other to new and exciting Adagio tea blends.
Completely and totally not dating. At all.
~*~
Ursa gets a call from someone who speaks for the Vampire Lord and his Consort. There are rumors of suspicious activity at a local college library, and Linkara is too busy to check it out. One of the librarians is suspected of being some kind of zombie, or perhaps just a very strange man. Either way, Ursa has been tasked with investigating it, and sending a report to an unlisted phone number as soon as possible.
With some trepidation, Ursa packs a bag with miscellaneous small items, mostly spell components, and mace, and a water bottle, and heads over to the library. If things get bad, she can call Richard for backup, though she’d really rather not. Richard would probably try to seduce whatever evil thing had managed to corner her, and damn the STIs he’d suffer as a result.
The library is sparsely populated at the hour she arrives. It’s open to the public, though it’s primarily used by the students of the college it’s attached to. Ursa has been meaning to come here for months now, intrigued by their occult history section she’s browsed online.
She wanders the stacks for a while, scoping the place out and reaching out with her magical senses. There are no ghosts floating around, no suspicious activity, not even an itch at the back of her neck.
Well, that is, until she lingers by the restricted area at the back of the library and a gaunt man seizes her and drags her through a set of double doors, growling and drooling onto her sweater.
Ursa reacts on instinct, twisting her hand and summoning fire. Pink and red flames crackle to life in her palm. For good measure, she drives her elbow into the gaunt man’s side.
He recoils, first from the pain, and then from the fire.
“Back, you madwoman!” he holds up his arms defensively. “Do not unleash your otherwordly powers upon us! Save yourself, forsake the dark forces you have probed, before it is too late!”
Ursa blinks. “Wait, what?”
The room is small, a cozy little office with a cot wedged in behind some filing cabinets. A man with a red beard and a fancy top hat is seated behind a desk, in the middle of an ancient looking book. He stares at Ursa and the gaunt man, and sighs heavily, closing his book.
“Howard,” the man in the top hat says soothingly, as one might speak to a child. “You’re getting cranky. It’s time for your shot.”
“Oh, very well!” the gaunt man sneers and holds out his arm.
The man in the top hat pulls a metal case from his desk drawer. He takes out a glowing syringe, and injects the gaunt man, who promptly keels over, hissing and groaning, for several minutes. That done, he straightens up, shaking himself, and stares at Ursa, looking flustered and sheepish.
“I do apologize, young lady. I was … rather overcome, by … emotions. Yes. Apparently those who manipulate the dark powers are not to be feared, but … embraced.” He attempts a smile, which looks more like he’d bitten into a lemon, inclines his head, and marches away towards the public section of the library.
“So … that happened.” Ursa rocks back on her heels, letting the fire flicker away.
“Yeah,” the man in the top hat puts the case away. “He’s a good guy, but if he doesn’t get his injections, he … starts ranting and raving, and then he starts trying to bite people’s arms off.”
Ursa nods, sitting down. “He a zombie of some kind?”
“He … yeah. I’m Derek, by the way? Derek the Librarian.” He holds out his hand.
Ursa shakes it carefully. “Sursum Ursa. I’m officially licensed by the Vampire Lord’s Consort to investigate paranormal activity.” She fishes out a metal crest from her purse and waves it vaguely in the air.
“Oh, this isn’t paranomal, this is science!” Derek declares gleefully.
Ursa raises an eyebrow.
“Ok, ok, it’s right on the line but … it’s science. I’m no wizard. I just cooked up this formula from Howard’s old books and … well, he was walking and talking and staggering around, stealing money from my wallet to buy suits from Goodwill. You do not want to know how tough it was to get him to stop yelling at the black students for coming in here and checking out books. He kept shrieking about miscegenation and stuff, it was awful.”
“And you can keep making this … formula? Indefinitely?”
“Oh, yeah, actually, all the components are easily found at any grocery store, really.”
“Ok …” Ursa considers the librarian. “I’ll submit my report, and suggest that you and Howard be left alone. If there’s any incidents of him going rogue and eating people, though, we’re going to have a different discussion. As in, there will be no discussion. As in, the Consort will come down here and decapitate Howard, and bring you in to the court to face the Vampire Lord’s judgment.”
“Understood.” Derek nods, looking pale and a little shaken.
Ursa feels that he’s gotten the message loud and clear. “Now, if you could walk me through getting a library card here?”
Derek is happy to help, and relaxes visibly going through the familiar motions of helping Ursa fill out paperwork with her information, and printing off a laminated card with her name and address on it.
“Well, until the next time you get lost down here,” he taps his hat, “I’m Derek the Librarian. Be seeing you!”
Ursa smiles tentatively at him, and leaves the library. She’ll be back soon enough, after all, to return the books.
~*~
“How was your work for the Vampire’s Mistress?” Richard asks after Ursa gets off the phone from making her report.
“Surprisingly dull. There was a zombie though.”
“Was it a sexy naked zombie?” Richard asks eagerly.
“Nope. Creepy vaguely-racist fully-clothed zombie.”
“Oh,” Richard slumps. “Well, that’s no fun.”
“Yeah, it really wasn’t.” Ursa glances around the room. “How’d it go, tonight?”
“Wonderful! Those new girls from up north were here, they’re very … enthusiastic.”
“I can imagine,” Ursa pours herself some tea. “You want some?”
“Yes, please!” Richard accepts the mug from her and practically inhales it. “Need some caffeine in me, a lot of studying tonight.”
“Some holiday coming up?”
“Uh, something like that …” Richard looks a little bashful. “It’s something we’ve been working up to for a while. Er, might not be a good idea for you to be about that night, it could get … messy?”
Ursa holds up her hands. “I don’t need to know details. I’ll keep my headphones on and make it an early night. Have fun … doing whatever.”
Richard nods. “Seriously, though, it’s going to be … very messy. I wouldn’t venture out until sunrise.”
“Duly noted.” Ursa takes her tea to her room.
~*~
Ursa is heading out for some milk - Richard’s drunk it all, again, and hasn’t put up a note to buy more - and pulling her jacket closed against the damp night air. It’s just starting to get late enough that the moon is visible between the buildings around her. She smiles, feeling its light on her face, flickers of power ghosting across her skin.
Muffled yelling from the courtyard behind her apartment building gives her pause. Ursa sneaks down the alleyway, straining to hear what’s going on.
“Look, you can just let me go!” yells an oddly familiar voice.
“We really can’t, I’m so sorry,” Richard wheedles.
Ursa finds her path obstructed by a huge length of black plastic. She creeps along the edge, trying to find a slit or an opening somewhere along it.
“Er, I’m afraid we have to, uh, kill you …” Richard says.
Ursa gives up on finding an opening and summons fire, burning her way through the plastic and into the center of the courtyard.
She finds a huddle of hooded figures, staring intently at Richard, who’s holding a large curved knife in a shaky hand. The tarps are strung up around the courtyard, obscuring the place from the windows of the surrounding apartment buildings. There’s a circle on the ground, symbols sketched in charcoal littered around red and black candles. And in the center of that circle, tied up and terrified, is …
“SciFi Guy?!” Ursa yelps.
Everyone whirls around. One of the hooded figures gets tangled in his robe and topples into another.
“What the hell is going on here?!” Ursa growls, shoving aside the hooded figures and coming to a stop in front of Richard, who apparently has enough decency to look embarrassed.
“Ursa?” SciFi Guy asks, bewildered.
“SciFi Guy?” Richard snorts. “What kind of a name is that?”
“Oh gee, I don’t know, Dick, why don’t you let him go and you can discuss etymology?” Ursa glares. “This ritual is a clear violation of City Laws, as decreed by the Vampire Lord. You could all be killed for this.”
Some of the followers mutter amongst themselves, worried.
“Oh, and don’t even think about taking me out, if I don’t make a report, they send someone nasty to check things out, someone who doesn’t ask questions so much as punch people into next week.” Ursa points at the circle. “Stop this, now, Richard. And we’ll just forget all about this impromptu human sacrifice.”
“But he knows now, Ursa! He’s some Average Joe who found out about the Masquerade!” Richard whines, waving at SciFi Guy with his dagger. “You know what’ll happen to him if the Vampire Lord finds out he’s been blabbering around town about crazy cults and vampires! Look, he’s as good as dead already, at least let me put his death to good use … you could participate too! The demon we’re summoning is very old, very powerful, he could give you knowledge -”
Ursa hits him so hard his glasses go flying.
Silence falls on the courtyard.
Richard straightens up, rubbing at his jaw. “You can hit me all you like, Ursa, but I’m not wrong. The Vampire Lord will have him dealt with and you know what that means. He’s going to die regardless.”
Ursa’s face creases.
SciFi Guy gulps audibly.
“Wait!” Ursa raises a hand. “I think I remember something, some arcane law … put into practice in the 15th Century I think. ‘Should an outsider be condemned to death for having witnessed the Society, or having acquired knowledge of the Society through no fault of their own, any member of the Society may take the outsider under their protection, to spare them from execution.’ I’ll do that, thanks.”
“The 15th Century? Really? We’re going that far back?” Richard grumbled.
“Legal precedent’s a bitch.” Ursa holds out her hand. “Give me the knife, Richard.”
Richard sighs heavily, nodding, and hands her the knife, handle first. She takes it, knuckles white from tension.
“Right … everybody, let’s clear out of here. Ritual … over.” Richard scuffs at the circle and some of the symbols. A follower begins dousing and collecting the candles.
As they file out of the courtyard, Ursa crouches down beside SciFi Guy, cutting away the ropes.
“Oh god …” SciFi stays on the ground, wrapping his arms around himself. “Oh god … oh god …”
“Are you hurt?” Ursa asks, checking his arms and face.
“No I … I’m not hurt …” SciFi looks at her. “Is this a dream? A really fucked-up dream?”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s not.” Ursa sighs. “Come upstairs, we have a lot to talk about.”
~*~
The next gaming session goes terribly. SciFi Guy can’t seem to focus, he forgets how to roll for spellcasting and keeps staring at Ursa.
“Did you two have a fight?” Tamika asks when they take a snack break and the rest of the group has left to get food at the nearby Chinese restaurant.
“What? No!”
“Did you like, turn him down or something? Did he try to get handsy with you?” Tamika glares. “Because we can talk to Kelly, get him kicked out if he’s making you that uncomfortable …”
“No, it’s … it’s nothing like that …” Ursa shakes her head. “Thanks, though.”
Tamika shrugs and munches on an apple.
When they come back, Greg has some good news, and bad news: he’s leaving the group because he got a job out in LA. His comic book has taken off and he’s been picked up by a big label, who are interested in a potential TV show pilot.
The rest of the game that night is focused on wrapping things up for Greg’s character, sending him off into the sunset. There’s a lot of hugging and well wishing, everyone lingering, not wanting to see Greg go but happy for his success.
“Tamika noticed something was off,” Ursa says as she and SciFi Guy walk to the subway station.
SciFi Guy freezes. “You’re not gonna turn me in, are you?” he asks, voice panicky.
“What? No, nothing like that!” Ursa shakes her head. “She was worried about us. Are you ok?”
“Not really,” SciFi Guy shrugs. “It’s kind of a lot to take in. I keep looking around, wondering who’s really who they say they are. What if the barista is a vampire? Or the mailman? Or the trash collectors? Or the women in front of me at the supermarket, what if they were trolls or something?” he lets out a shaky breath. “I just … I’ll be ok, it’s just … a difficult thing.”
“Well, if you get freaked out, you can call me, anytime, ok? Especially if anyone tries to mess with you. You’re under my protection, that means your business is my business.”
SciFi Guy nods. “Thank you, for … doing that. I just realized, I never properly thanked you. Sounds like you took a big risk, stepping in for me.”
Ursa wants to shrug it off, but she did take a huge risk. “Yeah, I did. You’re welcome.” She pats him on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ll miss the last train.”
~*~
“Oh, it’s you,” Richard looks SciFi Guy up and down and smirks. “How’s life treating you, being the witch’s bitch?”
“Richard,” Ursa warns, “be nice.”
“Well at least you’ve finally gotten yourself a proper familiar. Teach him some tricks, why don’t you? Make him carry your backbreaking books.” Richard buries himself back into his latest erotic spellbook.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just grumpy that he missed his window of opportunity to talk to some demon or another.”
“And incubus!” Richard wails. “A master of creating sin and lust, inspiring orgies every time his feet touched the ground … and I missed my chance to speak to him! To learn his secrets, to share in his vast knowledge …” Richard collapses onto the couch in a dramatic swoon. “Leave me to my suffering!”
“Let’s go,” Ursa dragged SciFi Guy down to her room. “That’s his code for ‘going to wank until I feel better.’”
“Oh,” SciFi Guy said faintly. “You weren’t kidding when you said your roommate was awkward.”
“Yeah.” Ursa sinks down onto her bed. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”
ScSciFi Guy sits down beside her. “I wanted to thank you,” he smiles and leans forward, about to kiss her.
Ursa pushes him back. “Whoa! Hold on!” she scrambles to her feet. “You don’t owe me anything. I was just doing my job.”
“But you saved my life,” SciFi Guy tilts his head. “And I thought … y’know …”
Ursa sighs heavily, rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows where she can feel a headache building. “Look, Leo, I … can we just take this slow, please? I’ve had a busy week and I honestly just wanted to watch a movie with you.”
“Ok,” SciFi Guy blushes. “Um … sorry about that. I made things weird.”
“Things were pretty weird already.” Ursa rifles through her DVD collection. “Cornetto Trilogy?”
“God yes,” SciFi Guy beams.
They settle in for a movie marathon.
~*~
Derek is at the next gaming session, still in his fancy hat. Howard is at his side, looking as displeased as ever. Ursa had mentioned the campaign during her latest library visit, and invited Derek to take Greg’s vacated spot around the table.
“And will you be joining us, Mr. …?” Kelly asks Howard.
“I do not … game.” Howard sneers. He sits on a chair in the corner, working his way through some Lovecraft-inspired comics and snickering. Occasionally he finds something particularly galling and leans over to show Derek, and exclaim in disbelief or anguish.
The group just learns to accept him. Derek is a fantastic player, even taking over as GM for a side campaign to let Kelly take a break and play a character of her own for a change.
SciFi Guy and Ursa sit side-by side, and if their legs start to brush against each other, well, nobody notices.