Well, hello! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!
I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; it's all CLAMP's! Always has been, always will be! I *DO*, however, own Marcibay Hilligans and Hei-ying Reed!! I also own Mystrasa Kyree, and the dragon isn't mine, it's on loan from my good friend, the Blue Goo! And what the heck . . . I own the mansion as well! [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!
I should probably make this very clear, this is the prequel to a story that is going to written . . . actually more of a back story to one of the characters I made and fell in love with . . . what can I say, I'm a sucka for traumatised screwball bunny wunnies esp. ones with homicidal tendencies!!
Also this story is gonna have some pretty strong language, and some scenes of Yaoi or lemon, whatever the right term is. . . [I'm a newbie! And proud of it!] Anyway, two *guys* will be getting it on, now . . . if you don't agree with such a thing, or find it utterly offensive, or even are immature and/or stupid enough to ignore THIS WARNING about it and then go on to flame me about it later then . . . what are you still doing here?! You've got free will, use it! Go read something that you won't find offensive and let the rest of us enjoy my weird and gender-not-restricting world of love! Sheesh! Or. . . give it a try. . .[winks] you might like it!
"Speaking"
*Stress/emphasis*
//Thinking//
In This Tainted Soul . . .
By Dr Megalomania.
Part one: Every Story Must Have It's Beginning . . .
****IN THE TIME BEFORE****
//Perfect . . .//
The new mansion was large and imposing. //Simple perfect.// he thought as he tipped his head back to try and see the roof. At it's highest, the mansion had six floors. It was perfectly old, and in good condition. He turned away from the house to consider the mansion's grounds. There was at least half a mile between the gates and mansion, and beyond the gates lay a deep forestland. The mansion was obscured from prying eyes. "Perfect." He whispered to himself. The coachman approached him, drawing off his old cap in some respectful way.
Marcibay Hilligans had been a coachman for darn near twenty years now, and he'd seen thousands of folk, using his coach to get from place to place, each traveller was unique and as interesting as the next, and Marcibay never minded talking to them. However, the young'un that had ordered his coach to help him move to this old forgotten house today, this particular young'un struck something in Marcibay's bones. Marcibay's mama had witchin' blood in her, and some of that blood had been passed to Marcibay. He had witchin' bones, gram-ma had always said. Marcibay had always been very grateful for it, it allowed him to see the bad'uns from good'uns. This young'un though . . . he couldn't read this one, the young'un was powerful, very powerful, and had the potential to do great good or do great evil. But Marcibay didn't worry too much about it, he had the overall feeling the boy would do right in the end, but Marcibay knew that the boy would make some mistake that would haunt the poor young'un till death . . . // . . .an' then sum . . .// Hilligans shook his head, wondering where that thought had come from, he wasn't a religious man and didn't believe in the afterlife, but for some reason Marcibay had the feeling that this young'un would live on in some way even after his death.
The dark haired boy smiled, he was aware that the coach man possessed some magical energy, it paled in comparison to his but that was of no matter. "Mister Hilligans . . . I have a request of you to make."
"Aye sir?" The sinewy older man shuffled from one foot to the other.
The boy smiled again, "I know what you feel, about the powers you possess . . ."
"Laddie . . ." Hilligans put his cap back on, "Thy don't scare me . . . I know tha' thee know an' thy know tha' I know. What is thy request?"
The boy never lost his smile, he was young, just on the cusp of adulthood, and couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen. He nodded, "I would like to hire you as my permanent coachman, I have more than enough to pay for your full time service . . ."
"I've no doubt tha' thy can." Marcibay spoke gruffly, "But makes thy think I wish t' be thy manservant?"
The boy laughed, "I have no desire to make you my manservant, just that when I wish to be taken somewhere," he tipped his head grandly, the boy had obviously grown up in a very rich and prestigious family, "I want to be able to depend on you solely." A hint of sincerity appeared in his eyes as he smiled again, "I like you."
A smile twitch at the elderly coach driver's lips, he sniffed and looked out upon the foggy lawns, he nodded slowly. "Aye, grounds large as these, 'ouse far too outsized f' boy like thee . . ." he looked at Clow, his old eyes held a humoured glint, "Thy needs sum'un t' make sure thy don't get thee int' mischief."
Clow Reed's smile broadened to a grin, as Hilligans turned to unload the coach.
Heavy, dark oak doors swung open creakily.
"Tadaima!" Clow cheerfully called out, and the word bounced of the old walls, ricocheting into the dark. As the echo faded, Clow stepped further into the large hall.
"What kind'a speak is tha'?" Hilligans dropped the first large holder, and wiped his brow, the coachman wasn't as young as he wished he were.
The dark hair boy turned his head slight, "Japanese. Wonderful people, terribly proper." Clow lifted his hands and clapped twice, in short sharp gestures. The shadow recoiled as if in pain as candles burst into light. Clow smiled, as he took in the greeting hall, it was huge and revealed four floors, with stairs criss-crossing to each floor. He frowned slightly as he realised that some of the stairs had collapsed. "Well, we can soon fix that," Clow muttered as he turned to fetch some of his own baggage.
Hilligans stood on the top of the coach, as he threw the straps off the top cases. Clow held his hands up, waiting for the bags to be passed to him. Marcibay straighten, "Nah Laddie, these bags 'ill be too heavy for thee." Hilligans pushed his hat back, "Too heavy for me an' all." Clow hummed and walked around the carriage, he stared at each bag intently. "There it is." He pointed at an old green case, it held several strange markings on it, markings that Marcibay knew were letters of some sort, and the letters surrounded a black and white emblem. "Mister Hilligans, could you open that case please?"
The old coach driver went to open the case, but his hand paused over the latch. He pulled his hand back slowly; as if he were afraid it would explode at any sudden movement. "Laddie . . ." he said warningly, "I ain't touchin' tha'un. Thy 'ave strange magick in tha'un, an' I ain't touchin' it."
"Not even if I tell you what kind it is?" Clow smiled hopefully, "We won't be able to get the bags down otherwise."
Hilligans sighed and nodded his consent, he eyed the bag suspiciously as Clow explained, "It's Chinese magic. Mostly incantations and Ofuduo papers. There are some magicked objects, and a sensing board, that does nothing but show the location of magic objects. It's the Ofuduo papers I want, I will use them to float the bags down."
"Chinese? Where'd thy get tha'?" He scowled harder at the old leather case.
"My mother was a member of the Li clan."
"Li clan?" Marcibay pulled his attention away from the bag long enough to look at Clow. "Wh'art th' Li clan?"
"A very powerful family of Magicians in China." Clow smiled proudly, "my father was from a long line of powerful Warlocks, the Reed family of England. I'm the only known combination of the two magicks."
"I know tha'un, I hear' o' thy Reed family," Hilligans began to undo the straps that held the faded grass green case. He threw the case to Clow, who caught it with a grin.
"Really?" he asked excitedly. "Who told you about them?"
Hilligans folded his arms, and looked dispassionately at him. "Me gram-ma . . ." he adjusted his cap and raised an eyebrow to emphasis his point. "She never shut up 'bout 'em. I got so sick o' hearin' about the wonderful Reed family;" he narrowed his eyes at Clow slightly, "I swore should I meet any o' their kinsmen, I'd knock 'is block off before 'e had chance to tell me everythin' gram-ma had already told me *ag'in.*"
Clow laughed, as he understood Marcibay's point. From that day on, Clow never bragged about his family bloodlines again.
-------------------------------------------
And now it's time for LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!
DrM: Should have probably mentioned this at the top, this is going to be a really, well, reasonably long story, I know because I've been writing the whole thing backwards, I mean chapters not words! I wrote the last scene first and things sorta . . . [makes 'water making way to the ocean' kinda motions with hands] progressed from there, shall we say? ^__^; And there might be spoilers in this if you don't already know the worst kept secret about Fujitaka and Eriol . . .and about Yue . . . or indeed anything about CCS . . . ahem, but I'm babbling, please feel free to babble back! Please R&R!! Oh, and Tadaima means 'I'm home' or something to that effect!!
I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; it's all CLAMP's! Always has been, always will be! I *DO*, however, own Marcibay Hilligans and Hei-ying Reed!! I also own Mystrasa Kyree, and the dragon isn't mine, it's on loan from my good friend, the Blue Goo! And what the heck . . . I own the mansion as well! [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!
I should probably make this very clear, this is the prequel to a story that is going to written . . . actually more of a back story to one of the characters I made and fell in love with . . . what can I say, I'm a sucka for traumatised screwball bunny wunnies esp. ones with homicidal tendencies!!
Also this story is gonna have some pretty strong language, and some scenes of Yaoi or lemon, whatever the right term is. . . [I'm a newbie! And proud of it!] Anyway, two *guys* will be getting it on, now . . . if you don't agree with such a thing, or find it utterly offensive, or even are immature and/or stupid enough to ignore THIS WARNING about it and then go on to flame me about it later then . . . what are you still doing here?! You've got free will, use it! Go read something that you won't find offensive and let the rest of us enjoy my weird and gender-not-restricting world of love! Sheesh! Or. . . give it a try. . .[winks] you might like it!
"Speaking"
*Stress/emphasis*
//Thinking//
In This Tainted Soul . . .
By Dr Megalomania.
Part one: Every Story Must Have It's Beginning . . .
****IN THE TIME BEFORE****
//Perfect . . .//
The new mansion was large and imposing. //Simple perfect.// he thought as he tipped his head back to try and see the roof. At it's highest, the mansion had six floors. It was perfectly old, and in good condition. He turned away from the house to consider the mansion's grounds. There was at least half a mile between the gates and mansion, and beyond the gates lay a deep forestland. The mansion was obscured from prying eyes. "Perfect." He whispered to himself. The coachman approached him, drawing off his old cap in some respectful way.
Marcibay Hilligans had been a coachman for darn near twenty years now, and he'd seen thousands of folk, using his coach to get from place to place, each traveller was unique and as interesting as the next, and Marcibay never minded talking to them. However, the young'un that had ordered his coach to help him move to this old forgotten house today, this particular young'un struck something in Marcibay's bones. Marcibay's mama had witchin' blood in her, and some of that blood had been passed to Marcibay. He had witchin' bones, gram-ma had always said. Marcibay had always been very grateful for it, it allowed him to see the bad'uns from good'uns. This young'un though . . . he couldn't read this one, the young'un was powerful, very powerful, and had the potential to do great good or do great evil. But Marcibay didn't worry too much about it, he had the overall feeling the boy would do right in the end, but Marcibay knew that the boy would make some mistake that would haunt the poor young'un till death . . . // . . .an' then sum . . .// Hilligans shook his head, wondering where that thought had come from, he wasn't a religious man and didn't believe in the afterlife, but for some reason Marcibay had the feeling that this young'un would live on in some way even after his death.
The dark haired boy smiled, he was aware that the coach man possessed some magical energy, it paled in comparison to his but that was of no matter. "Mister Hilligans . . . I have a request of you to make."
"Aye sir?" The sinewy older man shuffled from one foot to the other.
The boy smiled again, "I know what you feel, about the powers you possess . . ."
"Laddie . . ." Hilligans put his cap back on, "Thy don't scare me . . . I know tha' thee know an' thy know tha' I know. What is thy request?"
The boy never lost his smile, he was young, just on the cusp of adulthood, and couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen. He nodded, "I would like to hire you as my permanent coachman, I have more than enough to pay for your full time service . . ."
"I've no doubt tha' thy can." Marcibay spoke gruffly, "But makes thy think I wish t' be thy manservant?"
The boy laughed, "I have no desire to make you my manservant, just that when I wish to be taken somewhere," he tipped his head grandly, the boy had obviously grown up in a very rich and prestigious family, "I want to be able to depend on you solely." A hint of sincerity appeared in his eyes as he smiled again, "I like you."
A smile twitch at the elderly coach driver's lips, he sniffed and looked out upon the foggy lawns, he nodded slowly. "Aye, grounds large as these, 'ouse far too outsized f' boy like thee . . ." he looked at Clow, his old eyes held a humoured glint, "Thy needs sum'un t' make sure thy don't get thee int' mischief."
Clow Reed's smile broadened to a grin, as Hilligans turned to unload the coach.
Heavy, dark oak doors swung open creakily.
"Tadaima!" Clow cheerfully called out, and the word bounced of the old walls, ricocheting into the dark. As the echo faded, Clow stepped further into the large hall.
"What kind'a speak is tha'?" Hilligans dropped the first large holder, and wiped his brow, the coachman wasn't as young as he wished he were.
The dark hair boy turned his head slight, "Japanese. Wonderful people, terribly proper." Clow lifted his hands and clapped twice, in short sharp gestures. The shadow recoiled as if in pain as candles burst into light. Clow smiled, as he took in the greeting hall, it was huge and revealed four floors, with stairs criss-crossing to each floor. He frowned slightly as he realised that some of the stairs had collapsed. "Well, we can soon fix that," Clow muttered as he turned to fetch some of his own baggage.
Hilligans stood on the top of the coach, as he threw the straps off the top cases. Clow held his hands up, waiting for the bags to be passed to him. Marcibay straighten, "Nah Laddie, these bags 'ill be too heavy for thee." Hilligans pushed his hat back, "Too heavy for me an' all." Clow hummed and walked around the carriage, he stared at each bag intently. "There it is." He pointed at an old green case, it held several strange markings on it, markings that Marcibay knew were letters of some sort, and the letters surrounded a black and white emblem. "Mister Hilligans, could you open that case please?"
The old coach driver went to open the case, but his hand paused over the latch. He pulled his hand back slowly; as if he were afraid it would explode at any sudden movement. "Laddie . . ." he said warningly, "I ain't touchin' tha'un. Thy 'ave strange magick in tha'un, an' I ain't touchin' it."
"Not even if I tell you what kind it is?" Clow smiled hopefully, "We won't be able to get the bags down otherwise."
Hilligans sighed and nodded his consent, he eyed the bag suspiciously as Clow explained, "It's Chinese magic. Mostly incantations and Ofuduo papers. There are some magicked objects, and a sensing board, that does nothing but show the location of magic objects. It's the Ofuduo papers I want, I will use them to float the bags down."
"Chinese? Where'd thy get tha'?" He scowled harder at the old leather case.
"My mother was a member of the Li clan."
"Li clan?" Marcibay pulled his attention away from the bag long enough to look at Clow. "Wh'art th' Li clan?"
"A very powerful family of Magicians in China." Clow smiled proudly, "my father was from a long line of powerful Warlocks, the Reed family of England. I'm the only known combination of the two magicks."
"I know tha'un, I hear' o' thy Reed family," Hilligans began to undo the straps that held the faded grass green case. He threw the case to Clow, who caught it with a grin.
"Really?" he asked excitedly. "Who told you about them?"
Hilligans folded his arms, and looked dispassionately at him. "Me gram-ma . . ." he adjusted his cap and raised an eyebrow to emphasis his point. "She never shut up 'bout 'em. I got so sick o' hearin' about the wonderful Reed family;" he narrowed his eyes at Clow slightly, "I swore should I meet any o' their kinsmen, I'd knock 'is block off before 'e had chance to tell me everythin' gram-ma had already told me *ag'in.*"
Clow laughed, as he understood Marcibay's point. From that day on, Clow never bragged about his family bloodlines again.
-------------------------------------------
And now it's time for LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!
DrM: Should have probably mentioned this at the top, this is going to be a really, well, reasonably long story, I know because I've been writing the whole thing backwards, I mean chapters not words! I wrote the last scene first and things sorta . . . [makes 'water making way to the ocean' kinda motions with hands] progressed from there, shall we say? ^__^; And there might be spoilers in this if you don't already know the worst kept secret about Fujitaka and Eriol . . .and about Yue . . . or indeed anything about CCS . . . ahem, but I'm babbling, please feel free to babble back! Please R&R!! Oh, and Tadaima means 'I'm home' or something to that effect!!