fic: The Speakeasy - part 3.0 (2008)
His appearance…that alone was unsettling. White, from head to toe. Literally. His strange, tattered-looking clothing was as white as the fresh snow outside. His skin, which could be seen in what seemed like random patches, only barely differed in color from his covering, though the textures was what really set them apart. His long hair was a luminous gray that could accurately be called silver.
But his eyes. Those stopped me cold. I only stared, caught in that gaze from my place on the floor. His eyes…had no color. It was the black centers, and then white. I would’ve cried out, but my voice seemed caught in my throat.
A foreign word spilled from his mouth, and finally I was able to at least look away, as Kane closed the black curtains, leaving the new figure before us as the only source of light-or so it appeared. That it was an illusion was not something I was willing to doubt right now, but something, an instinct, maybe, told me that it was not an illusion. Another noise from the white being, a string of those foreign words, and I felt a change in the room.
Fog? I glanced around the room. What the fuck kind of sick game were these people playing? I didn’t see a source, but…it was thickest around the white being.
And somehow, it started to put me at ease. Perhaps it was a chemical in the-I hesitated to call it “fake”-fog. That had to be it, my mind said, albeit reluctantly, trying to keep me from relaxing, even though I felt…something special about the fog. Something unexplainable. I slowly became aware of a soft, low singing, and as I became aware of it, all sense of danger left me. I slumped lethargically against the door behind me, my strength leaving me. Except for only a tiny part of me, I felt suddenly…
At home.
It sent a shock through me, though still I was subdued. Those colorless eyes looked at me, through me. It was a look that I imagined an angel would have. Or a god.
In moments, I was gathered into Kane’s arms. I didn’t struggle. I felt no apprehension. “So you are to be reborn,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m glad.” I sighed peacefully as he laid me out on the bed, that low melody still singing through the fog. Kane tucked a lock of hair behind my ear before standing aside. Watching him, I realized that he looked different through the fog.
His edges were soft and ghostly, but that was to be expected. No, it was something else. He seemed leaner, more graceful, his eyes brighter. My eyes caught on something else. It was there…only barely…his ears were elfish, long and pointed. Something loomed behind him. But none of it was substantial, just a part of the fog.
I felt a new weight on the bed, drawing my attention back to the mysterious figure. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards me, his silvery hair tumbling from his shoulders. The low singing suddenly stopped, and the being’s otherly voice came out in words I understood. “Do you know my name?” The accent was thick, unrecognizable, and familiar at the same time.
I stared up to him. Yes, I knew his name…somewhere... I grasped for something that was appropriate. I whimpered as I felt a sharp pain-I couldn’t grasp the source.
“Shh, you don’t have to say it if you can’t,” he soothed. “For now, call me Alessandro. Kane,” he said, turning his attention to my keeper. I followed his gaze. Kane nodded at some unspoken command and walked to stand in front of the one called Alessandro. The fog seemed to caress his body as, without a word, Kane began to shed his clothing, his back turned to us. I stared at the smooth muscles of his back as they were exposed, and then the rounded globes of his rear.
Stark white hands trailed down either side of the nude back. I watched as strange markings sprang into being in the wake of the touch, spreading quickly to completely cover his back. The hands stopped just below Kane’s waist. It was as though some invisible thread was being pulled tight as the contact broke.
Kane crumpled to the floor, out of my sight, as Alessandro spoke another of his foreign words. Then, suddenly, the white being wasn’t the only source of light: blue glowed from Kane’s place on the floor. There was a moan that broke into a strangled cry. It stopped, and a gasp escaped my own lips as the thing that Kane had become stood up.
The lean form and otherly features that I had seen in the fog had manifested themselves in this new being-right down to the elfish ears. And finally I saw what had only barely been suggested before: a pair of luminous blue butterfly wings, impossibly huge. His skin had paled, taking on a blue hue, as well. He looked at me, bright blue eyes expectant. “This is what you-we-are,” he supplied, his voice now carrying that peculiar accent.
I almost flinched when those white-blue hands began to undress me. They were cold, oh so cold, but a part of me recognized them. Stripped bare, the sacrificial lamb to our god, our father, for me to become whole again. These words existed in my mind. And another word. I knew it, but it still strained against a part of me. Father of faeries…god of fog…what was his name?
A scream tore from my throat as something else tore through the skin on my chest. There was only agony as the pain deepened and spread, like the hot blood pouring from my body. I didn’t fight it; I couldn’t. Alessandro’s face floated above me, calm, his long, silver hair spilling onto the wound. I didn’t know what he was doing, exactly, except that it was painful beyond belief, and I wanted it to end now.
But his eyes. Those stopped me cold. I only stared, caught in that gaze from my place on the floor. His eyes…had no color. It was the black centers, and then white. I would’ve cried out, but my voice seemed caught in my throat.
A foreign word spilled from his mouth, and finally I was able to at least look away, as Kane closed the black curtains, leaving the new figure before us as the only source of light-or so it appeared. That it was an illusion was not something I was willing to doubt right now, but something, an instinct, maybe, told me that it was not an illusion. Another noise from the white being, a string of those foreign words, and I felt a change in the room.
Fog? I glanced around the room. What the fuck kind of sick game were these people playing? I didn’t see a source, but…it was thickest around the white being.
And somehow, it started to put me at ease. Perhaps it was a chemical in the-I hesitated to call it “fake”-fog. That had to be it, my mind said, albeit reluctantly, trying to keep me from relaxing, even though I felt…something special about the fog. Something unexplainable. I slowly became aware of a soft, low singing, and as I became aware of it, all sense of danger left me. I slumped lethargically against the door behind me, my strength leaving me. Except for only a tiny part of me, I felt suddenly…
At home.
It sent a shock through me, though still I was subdued. Those colorless eyes looked at me, through me. It was a look that I imagined an angel would have. Or a god.
In moments, I was gathered into Kane’s arms. I didn’t struggle. I felt no apprehension. “So you are to be reborn,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m glad.” I sighed peacefully as he laid me out on the bed, that low melody still singing through the fog. Kane tucked a lock of hair behind my ear before standing aside. Watching him, I realized that he looked different through the fog.
His edges were soft and ghostly, but that was to be expected. No, it was something else. He seemed leaner, more graceful, his eyes brighter. My eyes caught on something else. It was there…only barely…his ears were elfish, long and pointed. Something loomed behind him. But none of it was substantial, just a part of the fog.
I felt a new weight on the bed, drawing my attention back to the mysterious figure. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards me, his silvery hair tumbling from his shoulders. The low singing suddenly stopped, and the being’s otherly voice came out in words I understood. “Do you know my name?” The accent was thick, unrecognizable, and familiar at the same time.
I stared up to him. Yes, I knew his name…somewhere... I grasped for something that was appropriate. I whimpered as I felt a sharp pain-I couldn’t grasp the source.
“Shh, you don’t have to say it if you can’t,” he soothed. “For now, call me Alessandro. Kane,” he said, turning his attention to my keeper. I followed his gaze. Kane nodded at some unspoken command and walked to stand in front of the one called Alessandro. The fog seemed to caress his body as, without a word, Kane began to shed his clothing, his back turned to us. I stared at the smooth muscles of his back as they were exposed, and then the rounded globes of his rear.
Stark white hands trailed down either side of the nude back. I watched as strange markings sprang into being in the wake of the touch, spreading quickly to completely cover his back. The hands stopped just below Kane’s waist. It was as though some invisible thread was being pulled tight as the contact broke.
Kane crumpled to the floor, out of my sight, as Alessandro spoke another of his foreign words. Then, suddenly, the white being wasn’t the only source of light: blue glowed from Kane’s place on the floor. There was a moan that broke into a strangled cry. It stopped, and a gasp escaped my own lips as the thing that Kane had become stood up.
The lean form and otherly features that I had seen in the fog had manifested themselves in this new being-right down to the elfish ears. And finally I saw what had only barely been suggested before: a pair of luminous blue butterfly wings, impossibly huge. His skin had paled, taking on a blue hue, as well. He looked at me, bright blue eyes expectant. “This is what you-we-are,” he supplied, his voice now carrying that peculiar accent.
I almost flinched when those white-blue hands began to undress me. They were cold, oh so cold, but a part of me recognized them. Stripped bare, the sacrificial lamb to our god, our father, for me to become whole again. These words existed in my mind. And another word. I knew it, but it still strained against a part of me. Father of faeries…god of fog…what was his name?
A scream tore from my throat as something else tore through the skin on my chest. There was only agony as the pain deepened and spread, like the hot blood pouring from my body. I didn’t fight it; I couldn’t. Alessandro’s face floated above me, calm, his long, silver hair spilling onto the wound. I didn’t know what he was doing, exactly, except that it was painful beyond belief, and I wanted it to end now.