Title: Lady September

Author: Koi Lung Fish

Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations from Final Fantasy VII (© 1997, 1998 Square Co., Ltd). Used without permission. Text © 2001, Koi Lung Fish (Mark of Lung. All Rights Reserved.)

Subject: A character vignette on Rufus and his feelings for Scarlet.

            Diamonds on a sooty plate, is Midgar after dark; the night sky mirrored in that foggy cup of human error; iron lotus upon a pool of pollution, bedewed with light.

            From the candle-flame of the Shin-Ra tower, look down upon the city; anthill, upheaved and scattered – firefly-green motion and sparkle in elevated streets. The stamen of authority scatters helicopter pollen, dragonflying over slum and suburban hives; alike, cocooning industrious maggots, parasites of the Planet, eyeless and doughy.

            In the light-lacquered tip of the moons' finger, the throne of the winter prince is lit up like a celebration; a riot of command, a festival of control. The lord of the dragonflies, snug and sterile queen of the hive: in his hands lie a thousand lives; all glass snowflakes, brittle breaking stars; if he fumbles watch them fall.

            Break open, precious star, let your light fly into the cold night of Midgar, and thence be burned in the Hell of the mako reactor, the final heaven for a million souls now reformed for mass consumption.

            Alone upon his throne he sits; isolated, snowfall pure. Blackmail shadows every movement, waiting baited for his fall. He is Shin-Ra, lord of all: at his command the army marches, on his will do lives depend; upon his fist is scale-mail armour, iron fingers gripping tight the throat of freedom – strangled blue, it slips from sight.

            For him is served the crystal goblet, blood of children steaming hot. For him is killed the fatted calf; hearts served stuffed with lark's tongues rare. Offer him the silver chalice, filled with tears of saints sans God; bring to him the desert roses, nurtured slowly, tender cared: all these to him are petty matters, trifles worthless; they cause no fear.

            Sitting trembling on his throne, crown aslant upon his ears, the winter prince is seeking shelter from the harpies' taunting jeers. All his world spins around a single brilliant star, a ruby sun: his Lady September, bright Queen of Swords. He, the Winter Prince, cold as ice, he worships her: the daughter of the flame, unobtainable sun to the Icarus wings of his lust. To her the blood sings in his heart, to her eyes the stars tumble entranced: to her, he sends mute messenger-birds always immured within his rib cage.

            She is his Lady September, and to her he attributes all the sins that have made him a fallen man. Listen, thus;

            Greed I name thee - all-consuming flame: of anger, of passion, of pride and of pain. Inextinguishable, Ahura Mazda touches earth. She is Agni, the dancer in the desert, the dervish in skirts of spinning sand. Red dust flies around, dressing her in sunset leaves. Open is her mouth to consume all the bright light of the city – Shin-Ra woman, consuming all life like a mako reactor primed for burn.

            Gluttony I name thee – surfeit of all sins, vivid witch with knife poised to cut the prize flesh from the fatted calf. Queen of the banquet, all appetites gorged to surcease and exceeding excess, your voracity has hunted out every sensation, every permutation of the sensuality you have made your domain. My Lady September, russet embers in thy dress, you recline upon a couch made from the backs of willing slaves: let me join with you there.

            Sloth I name thee – my malign addiction with poison kisses, waited upon by bewitched serfs held in thrall to thy unheavenly beauty. Why soil those hands, as white as virgin skin stretched tight over the talon of the sorceress, when upon thy sigh a host of hierodules shall rush to court thee with rubies and garnets, drops of cold blood they weep in hope of you divine flames, the smouldering brand of your lips upon their frozen flesh. Enlanguished empress, Lilith draped in autumn's fire, take me to your bed of September's fallen leaves.

            Pride I name thee – you are proud, as a whore is proud, holding your gilded head high on a neck like a pillar of salt. You, who will not consent to me, will not relent to me, will not bare flesh for me. This is not love I bare, bloody queen of my dream, this is not love but obsession – child of lust, child without mother. I will not beg you, no, nor ask, nor plead nor pay; you whore, you know all the price.

            Wrath I name thee - waxen with war, weapons in a willing hand. To strike is easy; delicate hand, mailed with claws, lacquered carmine. Glory, glory, Goddess of War unveiled to thaw: she maketh the blood to flow. What Sehkmeht had such sinews? What Artemis such eyes? What Aphrodite such rosy heavens nestled 'tween her thighs?

            Envy I name thee - green-eyed cat goddess, queen of mischief. Green are the wounds of the Planet, emerald embers, glutted upon the feast of the unborn; green as envy, green as spite – green as jealousy, eyes malignant in the face of lust.

            Lust I name thee - engenderer of lust; for a thousand hybrid nights you have tormented me – your body, wreathed in flame, garlanded in-candle-scent – scented as myrrh, clad in rubescent peacock feathers, hair bound up with fortune-cracked tortoiseshell. Shred the silk, lacquer carmine, flense the fabric revealing curves and supple hollows soft-peach-skinned: you Maenad of calm, you vixen, you mistress of the hungry hours – you stir my lusts and you whip my vigour to seismic frenzy. I, as Earth, bleed green for thee, my scarlet mistress of the frenzied 'fore-dawn hours.

            In the darkness of my dreams I have seen your nakedness, you angel of the seven sins. My Lady September; harlot, queen of vice – you grip me tight.

            Come to me, my glorious goddess; bestow on me thy kiss. Melt from me this freezing cloak, this blue-veined permafrost. Grant me once thy sublime nights – thy love, blood sacrifice. Pahkhet, claws incarnadine, strip the skin from my back; take maiden blood from my clean skin. Innocence, decadence, let the boundaries fall. Let Muspelheim and Niflheim collide in one Ragnarok of first and final lust.

            Oh, yea Scarlet, woman! Yea whore of Babylon astride a seven-headed dragon city belching poison breath! Yea, 'twixt whose thighs I would die to lie; yea mother of death's children, yea Queen of Swords, yea warrior-goddess – glorious, glorious Lady September!

Author's notes & addenda:

            Gift vignette for Scarlet Seraph, who was the only person to correctly guess one of the two party games in "Dance of the Mad Children." The games are Dead Lions (also called Sleeping Lions) and Musical Statues. Feedback excruciatingly welcome.

            Ahura Mazda: (from Avestan, lit. Wise Diety). Also called Ormazd. The creator god of Zoroastrianism, sometimes represented as a fire.

            Agni: Indo-Aryan or Vedic god of fire.

            Aphrodite: (Greek, aphros, foam-born) Greek goddess of beauty, fertility and sexual love. Equivalent of Venus.

            Artemis: Greek goddess of hunting and the moon.

            Lilith: Biblical, the first wife of Adam and mother of demons.

            Maenad: (Latin from Greek, mainesthai, to rave) Greek, a female follower of Bacchus, participant in frenzied rites.

            Muspelheim: Norse, the home of the fire giants.

            Niflheim: Norse, the home of the ice giants.

            Pahkhet: (Egyptian, she who scratches) Egyptian lion-head goddess and guardian of tombs.

            Queen of Swords: Tarot: the Queen of Swords represents a person, usually a mature woman, who is charming, independent and confident but also cruel, sly and deceitful.

            Ragnarok: Norse, the final battle or end of the world. One of the many predicted events is the clash of the fire giants and ice giants.

            Sehkmeht: (Egyptian) Egyptian lion-headed goddess, sometimes called the Eye of Ra; created to deliver the wrath of Ra upon ungrateful humans, she was only narrowly prevented from slaughtering every living man and woman. In another aspect, she was the cat-headed fertility goddess, Bast or Bastet.

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