The Gateway
By Strawberry_miow (Jen)
~*~
The shadows coiled around the night, words on the gravestone dimming to almost unreadable, darkness opening to more darkness as all light was ruled out by the impossible yearning for something so far out of reach it would have humorous under different circumstances. The rustling of autumn leaves and the cruel, mocking hunting call of the night owls finally tugged me out of my silent pondering, tears stinging my eyes slightly as I turned away, starting walking back to the mission.
I was half in one line of thought yet completely compelled to another, question after question layering to form one hell of a confused state falling over me like a black rainbow, had Jesse actually believed me? I hoped he had yet from his words I didn't seem to believe it. he had seemed so distant, resigned, but the way he had kissed me..my tongue unconsciously swept out and licked my lips, taking in the last lingering tastes of him.
But why hadn't he believed me? I mean, its not like he had good reason not to.surely he knew how I felt about Paul by now? I mean, I`d expressed it rather colourfully on a number of occasions, but then again, maybe it wasn't that he was upset about..I sighed again, why was I even bothering trying to come up with explanations for the most unreadable person in the world?
I shrugged it off, it was getting kind of late and I had school tomorrow, I carefully slipped back inside the cold, deserted building, half of me was walking to the rectory to confront signor DeSilva, while the other part of me were screaming hey, other half! Where the hell are you going?
Gentle moonlight shimmered over the linoleum tiled hallways, it was that cheap blue stuff you always found in schools and the such, budget problems apparently, it looked like silent water mixing to turbulent as lemon light echoed over its shadows, my gentle footsteps were the only sound, along with slow, shallow breathing, mind stirring with so many questions and so many answers, none, of course, which fit together.
I did come to one conclusion that night if nothing else though, Jesse being upset, him thinking I was in love with Paul, me wanting to break every bone in that mediator's body..all of it, every last thread of it, tied down to Paul Slater.
I smiled at that, well, a little anyway, on top of everything else going on it was a small comfort to know somebody else was to blame. A slight spring echoed in my step at that point, a little more optimistic than I had been earlier that day, now only one thing remained to do, well besides the whole Jesse ordeal that I really didn't want to go into there and then, and that was to sort out Mr Slater, and by that I mean somehow stop him from screwing with my happys. Well, if he was a mediator, shifter or whatever the hell the self-proclaimed-God was calling himself these days surely there would be a book of some sort to help right?
Well, lets just say that is how I found myself in Father Dom`s office at approximately 2am on a Wednesday morning.
I figured that if anyone were to have information on the sort it would be the good old nice-guy mediator himself, spiritual healer and that crap. I crouched down on the floor by the big rusted-oak bookcase and beginning pulling off titles, much to my disappointment, most of which seemed to be graphic fantasy novels of some sort or schoolbooks, I pretty much emptied the whole first shelf, books amass on the ground around me, J quickly, hastily, shoved them back on the bookcase and moved to the next shelf..and the next..and the next, smacking the wood fiercely with annoyance when I discovered it was all full of a load of stuff that was useless to anybody.
I walked around the room, looking on every table for anything of value to me in the search, even resorting to whispering "oh little books, come out come out wherever you are." I blame it on the lack of sleep and the fact of still being in the place at the early hours of half three in the morning.
I approached the good father's desk and began hastily opening and closing the drawers, finding nothing at all but old term papers and detention slips, unfilled, by the truckload, he really needs to harden up I mused to myself, slightly amused by the whole thing.
I came to a draw that was locked and that is where my attention stuck, if it was locked there had to be a reason for it right? He had be hiding something.I mean, people don't just go around locking their cupboards for no reason right? For people to break into it out of curiosity for nothing to be there? Although I wasn't breaking in it.no, I was simply..helping us all out by finding a way to permanently restrain Paul Slater, yes that was it.
And that is what I kept telling myself as I applied a little brutal force to the stubborn wood, trying to pry it open with my fingernails and everything I had.after about half an hour or so, it eventually came unlocked, obviously growing weary of my weak attempts as it grew less and less amused, I really needed some sleep soon, I really did..I was just hoping I didn't get to that stage of exhaustion that I started singing songs from some old age rock farce I had never heard of.
That would just be embarrassing.
I bent down to the now partly open drawer and eased it out of the desk, making only a light noise as it slid along the contraptions, I peered into it and found a few slips of old paper, some photographs faded from age, a few candy bars and a pack of cigarettes.why wasn't I surprised? Yet I growled in frustration as I rummaged through the drawer, about to slam it shut when my fingers stumbled upon what felt like a hard-back book, I carefully pulled it out, slightly excited, as I blew on the dusted cover.
It was large and dusty, yet well kept, the pages crumpled a little yet I thought it more likely from age than anything else, it looked to be quite old, paper thick like that of the times when they still wrote with feathered quills and ink pots. The cover was jet black, hard-backed, yet with no author name whatsoever. All that it had on the front was a small symbol in ink just as dark, a rune of some sort I guessed, closing the drawer I flicked through a few pages when I found one marked out by some sort of string, black leather twine I realised as I gently pulled it from the book, there was a kind of amulet on the bottom, the same symbol as was on the front of the book, without thinking I slipped it over my head, it was awfully pretty..
I glanced down at the page it had marked, a picture of the symbol in blood red ink, hand-written explanation next to it..
The Gateway rune: One of the many set of runes belonging to the religion, traditionalists believe it dates back to the time of..
I scanned further down, not really caring about the history of whatever the hell it was:
Sometimes called the rune of darkness by certain practitioners depending mainly on their perception of purity versus non..
I sighed, frustrated, as I once again read further down, when the text caught my eye:
The name for this particular rune is derived from the sole purpose of the spiritual gateway, a path to connect the afterlife to this life...
I raised an eyebrow at that and fondled the stone hanging around my neck, ok so it's some freaky mediator good luck charm I thought to myself.
...Oh I didn't know how much.
By Strawberry_miow (Jen)
~*~
The shadows coiled around the night, words on the gravestone dimming to almost unreadable, darkness opening to more darkness as all light was ruled out by the impossible yearning for something so far out of reach it would have humorous under different circumstances. The rustling of autumn leaves and the cruel, mocking hunting call of the night owls finally tugged me out of my silent pondering, tears stinging my eyes slightly as I turned away, starting walking back to the mission.
I was half in one line of thought yet completely compelled to another, question after question layering to form one hell of a confused state falling over me like a black rainbow, had Jesse actually believed me? I hoped he had yet from his words I didn't seem to believe it. he had seemed so distant, resigned, but the way he had kissed me..my tongue unconsciously swept out and licked my lips, taking in the last lingering tastes of him.
But why hadn't he believed me? I mean, its not like he had good reason not to.surely he knew how I felt about Paul by now? I mean, I`d expressed it rather colourfully on a number of occasions, but then again, maybe it wasn't that he was upset about..I sighed again, why was I even bothering trying to come up with explanations for the most unreadable person in the world?
I shrugged it off, it was getting kind of late and I had school tomorrow, I carefully slipped back inside the cold, deserted building, half of me was walking to the rectory to confront signor DeSilva, while the other part of me were screaming hey, other half! Where the hell are you going?
Gentle moonlight shimmered over the linoleum tiled hallways, it was that cheap blue stuff you always found in schools and the such, budget problems apparently, it looked like silent water mixing to turbulent as lemon light echoed over its shadows, my gentle footsteps were the only sound, along with slow, shallow breathing, mind stirring with so many questions and so many answers, none, of course, which fit together.
I did come to one conclusion that night if nothing else though, Jesse being upset, him thinking I was in love with Paul, me wanting to break every bone in that mediator's body..all of it, every last thread of it, tied down to Paul Slater.
I smiled at that, well, a little anyway, on top of everything else going on it was a small comfort to know somebody else was to blame. A slight spring echoed in my step at that point, a little more optimistic than I had been earlier that day, now only one thing remained to do, well besides the whole Jesse ordeal that I really didn't want to go into there and then, and that was to sort out Mr Slater, and by that I mean somehow stop him from screwing with my happys. Well, if he was a mediator, shifter or whatever the hell the self-proclaimed-God was calling himself these days surely there would be a book of some sort to help right?
Well, lets just say that is how I found myself in Father Dom`s office at approximately 2am on a Wednesday morning.
I figured that if anyone were to have information on the sort it would be the good old nice-guy mediator himself, spiritual healer and that crap. I crouched down on the floor by the big rusted-oak bookcase and beginning pulling off titles, much to my disappointment, most of which seemed to be graphic fantasy novels of some sort or schoolbooks, I pretty much emptied the whole first shelf, books amass on the ground around me, J quickly, hastily, shoved them back on the bookcase and moved to the next shelf..and the next..and the next, smacking the wood fiercely with annoyance when I discovered it was all full of a load of stuff that was useless to anybody.
I walked around the room, looking on every table for anything of value to me in the search, even resorting to whispering "oh little books, come out come out wherever you are." I blame it on the lack of sleep and the fact of still being in the place at the early hours of half three in the morning.
I approached the good father's desk and began hastily opening and closing the drawers, finding nothing at all but old term papers and detention slips, unfilled, by the truckload, he really needs to harden up I mused to myself, slightly amused by the whole thing.
I came to a draw that was locked and that is where my attention stuck, if it was locked there had to be a reason for it right? He had be hiding something.I mean, people don't just go around locking their cupboards for no reason right? For people to break into it out of curiosity for nothing to be there? Although I wasn't breaking in it.no, I was simply..helping us all out by finding a way to permanently restrain Paul Slater, yes that was it.
And that is what I kept telling myself as I applied a little brutal force to the stubborn wood, trying to pry it open with my fingernails and everything I had.after about half an hour or so, it eventually came unlocked, obviously growing weary of my weak attempts as it grew less and less amused, I really needed some sleep soon, I really did..I was just hoping I didn't get to that stage of exhaustion that I started singing songs from some old age rock farce I had never heard of.
That would just be embarrassing.
I bent down to the now partly open drawer and eased it out of the desk, making only a light noise as it slid along the contraptions, I peered into it and found a few slips of old paper, some photographs faded from age, a few candy bars and a pack of cigarettes.why wasn't I surprised? Yet I growled in frustration as I rummaged through the drawer, about to slam it shut when my fingers stumbled upon what felt like a hard-back book, I carefully pulled it out, slightly excited, as I blew on the dusted cover.
It was large and dusty, yet well kept, the pages crumpled a little yet I thought it more likely from age than anything else, it looked to be quite old, paper thick like that of the times when they still wrote with feathered quills and ink pots. The cover was jet black, hard-backed, yet with no author name whatsoever. All that it had on the front was a small symbol in ink just as dark, a rune of some sort I guessed, closing the drawer I flicked through a few pages when I found one marked out by some sort of string, black leather twine I realised as I gently pulled it from the book, there was a kind of amulet on the bottom, the same symbol as was on the front of the book, without thinking I slipped it over my head, it was awfully pretty..
I glanced down at the page it had marked, a picture of the symbol in blood red ink, hand-written explanation next to it..
The Gateway rune: One of the many set of runes belonging to the religion, traditionalists believe it dates back to the time of..
I scanned further down, not really caring about the history of whatever the hell it was:
Sometimes called the rune of darkness by certain practitioners depending mainly on their perception of purity versus non..
I sighed, frustrated, as I once again read further down, when the text caught my eye:
The name for this particular rune is derived from the sole purpose of the spiritual gateway, a path to connect the afterlife to this life...
I raised an eyebrow at that and fondled the stone hanging around my neck, ok so it's some freaky mediator good luck charm I thought to myself.
...Oh I didn't know how much.