Making Deals With the Devil
Jan. 24th, 2014 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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birthright_rpgRhiannon wasn’t sure if summoning worked this way; she only knew where Elfleda had appeared to her before, so that is where she headed after leaving Cian’s cabin near the lake.
She drove back to Searchlight, back to where she’d rented a cheap room after riding in a stale bus for days. She parked her car in the lot of the gas station where she’d gone to make a long-distance call with a pocket full of quarters. She walked past the bank of payphones and out into the desert, far enough to escape the glow from the light posts, so far she could barely see her shoes. Her flashlight picked out plants to avoid and, once, the striped tail of a snake under a rock. When she came to a clearing, she dropped her pack and crouched beside it with the flashlight in her teeth.
The black stone was in her pants pocket. Sometimes it seemed to burn her like a coal. Other times, it felt as innocuous as an ordinary rock. She took it out and studied it in the glow of the flashlight. In that yellow-tinged motel room, it had taken Rhiannon a few minutes of looking to realize what was so odd about it; it was polished smooth yet reflected no light.
Rhiannon switched off the flashlight and put it inside the pack. She stood up and ran her thumb across it. Then she closed her eyes. Clearing her mind was a challenge. She could faintly smell Cian’s soapy scent and she could hear trucks making good time on the highway. It was freezing out. Her sweatshirt wasn’t thick enough. Beyond all that, her stomach felt like a loosely coiled wire that jerked and sparked periodically. Maybe her anger would help serve as a beacon to Elfleda, who seemed to get off on that kind of thing. Rhiannon thought about that woman now. She pictured her gaunt face and black dress and how it felt to be touched by her.
‘Come on, please… Please.’
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She drove back to Searchlight, back to where she’d rented a cheap room after riding in a stale bus for days. She parked her car in the lot of the gas station where she’d gone to make a long-distance call with a pocket full of quarters. She walked past the bank of payphones and out into the desert, far enough to escape the glow from the light posts, so far she could barely see her shoes. Her flashlight picked out plants to avoid and, once, the striped tail of a snake under a rock. When she came to a clearing, she dropped her pack and crouched beside it with the flashlight in her teeth.
The black stone was in her pants pocket. Sometimes it seemed to burn her like a coal. Other times, it felt as innocuous as an ordinary rock. She took it out and studied it in the glow of the flashlight. In that yellow-tinged motel room, it had taken Rhiannon a few minutes of looking to realize what was so odd about it; it was polished smooth yet reflected no light.
Rhiannon switched off the flashlight and put it inside the pack. She stood up and ran her thumb across it. Then she closed her eyes. Clearing her mind was a challenge. She could faintly smell Cian’s soapy scent and she could hear trucks making good time on the highway. It was freezing out. Her sweatshirt wasn’t thick enough. Beyond all that, her stomach felt like a loosely coiled wire that jerked and sparked periodically. Maybe her anger would help serve as a beacon to Elfleda, who seemed to get off on that kind of thing. Rhiannon thought about that woman now. She pictured her gaunt face and black dress and how it felt to be touched by her.
‘Come on, please… Please.’
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on 2014-01-29 12:44 am (UTC)She had done all the waiting she could stand. Her backpack contained an assortment of materials gathered for her journey, be it by car or Elfleda’s hand: gloves, a dark cap, a knife, a lighter and a small tin of flammable liquid, a length of rope, binoculars purchased at military surplus, and a stake since he was keeping company with vampires of late. The truth was, she didn’t know yet how she wanted to do this; she’d settle on an approach when she saw Duncan. If she’d had a gun, Rhiannon would have brought it, too.
But now one thing was certain: if she didn’t kill him, she’d be in Elfleda’s debt.
“If I want to deliver him … I mean his soul to you, how? It’s not a firefly in a jar.”
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on 2014-02-04 03:54 am (UTC)But then came the question.
The portal swirled in murky silence and the monochromatic temptress raised forearm, palm turned out as fingers made a slow dance-like movement. Spidery, like a slow-motion scuttle. Then reaching forth, extending to touch upon the mortal's brow. What followed came as a stream of arcane knowledge, spreading out as ripples upon the Lee girl's mental pond. Instinctive knowledge of the right symbols to carve into flesh, the most conducive way to arrange a would-be victim's limbs, the correct things to say...
If the concept of sin truly existed, then stealing another living being's soul away must surely rank as one of the worst.
"I'll take care of the rest," Elfleda mentioned. "Should you wish it..."
And there it was. Possibly the most diabolical weapon of all. One she was handing freely over to one Rhiannon Lee.
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on 2014-02-09 12:01 am (UTC)Kneeling to collect her backpack was a welcome distraction. She hauled the straps onto her shoulders and flexed her legs to stand. Should she thank her? Were niceties used when dealing with hellish entities? Already she had made a highly questionable move here, and it was only now that Rhiannon realized a telling truth: she had not asked for God’s help before coming here. She hadn’t wanted to handle it in a moral way and she’d been looking for an expedient solution.
She swallowed.
“It’ll be quick,” Rhiannon said instead. “I’m not the kind to fuck around.”
Her hair snapped on the wind as she turned and faced down the portal. Once she went through it, nothing would be the same.
‘On a count of three’, she told herself. ‘One… two…’
The air whooshed past her ears.
‘Three.’