sleep safely

2009-11-01T05:02:41Z

title: twisted occupations
author: panda/sonya
words: 3171
notes: for ren's halloween contest. :)
other notes: it's a mishmash of a lot of different supernatural & belief cultures that i thought would be intriguing. The Bacchae are from this one time when I became obsessed with Xena: Warrior Princess combined with just me & my weird imagination.
last note: enjoy! happy halloween all! :) hope you had a lot of candy!

This business will be the death of me.

I speak not of metaphorical death like that of dropping your mother’s favorite vase- the one she swears she'll whip you half to hell before beating you the rest of the way if it gets broken when you're within a half mile of it- but of literal death. The death that keeps cadavers in their graves, that gives anyone with the right tools power over everyone else.

But this must not make any sense to you. Probably very little as literacy is a skill I have but just mastered, if crossing out every other word and having to read aloud as I write could be considered “mastering” a skill at all.

It certainly doesn’t help that I assume you know of what I speak.

And so I shall start at the beginning.

::::::::::

The Reed family businesses consists of a small stand in the middle of the Hallow Fairgrounds, a place that is open but one night a year.

If you ask me what the Hallow Fairgrounds is, there are so many things that I could say in response. I could speak of the multitudes of frightening beings that occupy the invisible division line by Nightshade Lane or tell you of the mist floating around Blood Circle. There are even stories of Moonshine Alley which is, rather unfortunately, next to Sangre Close, where the uneasy truce between the wolves & bloodsuckers reigns with heavy hostility.

But in shorter terms, the Hallow Fairgrounds is a marketplace that is in business every thirty-first of October. People come from near and far to set up shop because it is often one of the only times you can find certain services.

My family’s services are two of them. Once every year, we settle in the middle of the fairground, away from the strange people with their crooked teeth & wobbly staffs so that customers may come for one of two services without fear of getting staked or bitten.

Our family is a joining of two different businesses that my parents combined around the time that they married each other. My father brought his bounty-hunting trade to the table while my mother added in her curse-breaking skills.

On the left side of the stand on this particular night sits my older brother, Peter while I am on the right. We look very little alike, considering our shared parentage. He has the black hair like that of the tar that waterproofs our father’s boat while I have hair the color of the sun when you squint at it from a low plain. We have both inherited the pale skin of our father’s people. As far as anyone can remember, they have lived in the woods, far from the cities, causing their skin to be bleached from the lack of sunlight. However, Peter and I also received our mother’s sharp nose & almond shaped eyes, though his eyes were violet while mine were olive green.

I can’t help but throw a grumpy look at my brother as he listens attentively to a small sprite. I had wanted to be on the left side!

Unfortunately, Mother and Father decided that Peter, seeing as he is prefect, reliable, strong, tall, MALE Peter, would be in charge of the curse-breaking gathering this year.

Which leaves me as the person ordered to take care of listing everyone who needs a werewolf, loose spirit, or basilisk hunted down.

It’s as much fun as a barrel of monkeys after the monkeys ran away to join the circus.

“Peoria, please focus.”

I shift my gaze from my brother to the people in front of me. “Welcome to Reeds’ Bounty. We exorcise, hunt, and track down anything from here to the end of the earth. What do you need to have hunted, tracked, exorcized, et cetera et cetera between now and next All Hallows’ Eve?”

I was speaking to a motley crew, made up of a short but squat man with a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth; a girl with a lizard coiled around her neck; a gangly fellow with a few chins too many, a man leaning on a broomstick snoring; and a woman with a rather large amount of jewelry festooning her neck, arms, and legs.

To think I thought that the people were strange before the girl with the lizard threw a sack of gold in front of me seems kind of judgmental, now that I think about it.

“We have a dragon that needs to be taken care of.”

:::::::

When I arrive at the Taurus family home, I find it to be a rather dark little haunt. The house looks like it’s falling apart with the remnants of the sunset as a tiny explosion of color behind it. A barn is further along in the distance, its broken down roof giving rise to glimpses of the darkening sky through the holes.

But it is not the state of disrepair that gives me a twinge of unease. It is the lack of smoke to the east where Lucy- the girl with the lizard- had told me the dragon had made its lair. The places where dragons live, my parents have told me time and time again, tend to burn- to become heated to the point where everything touching the dragon’s heated scales dries up and becomes a wasteland.

“It has stolen over our land in the middle of the night for the past month, stealing several horses.” At this point, Lucy’s nose had flared in barely suppressed anger. “We had been debating about hiring some of you bounty hunters, but we barely had the financial resources to do so. In fact, the only reason we decided to go to the Fairgrounds was…”

She had looked down at her feet, dressed in a pair of old Wellingtons that had seen better days about four millennia previously.

With a heavy heart, I had completed her sentence. “… because you couldn’t afford not to anymore.”

A frown crosses my face as my eyes narrow into a speculative gleam directed towards the house’s front door. There is something strange about this whole business. Nothing fits together.

It is not just the facts either. There’s something about these people- something that makes me want to lose control.

It is this… quality that makes me strengthen my guard and become more wary.

Yet a part of me fights being suspicious, telling me I am being paranoid. This seductive voice from within me coaxes out memories; fresh ones that I had experienced but an hour or two ago. Phil had been a kind old man, sharing not only a physical resemblance to Saint Nicholas but a personality one as well.

Despite all of my misgivings, I turn around and give a bright, embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry, but I think I need to go to the bathroom. I forgot to go before I left…”

Ralphie, the gangly yet overweight man, gives me a friendly grin as he snacks on a few crackers, the same as some he had given meon the journey. “Of course, little missy.”

“Hurry up though.” That’s Pearl. She says very little and spent most of the time looking at me with this really bizarre look. “I’m hungry…”

Pappy snorts in his sleep.

“Fifth door on your left after going up the staircase.” Phil mutters to himself about where the exact location of the bathroom, whether it’s the fifth door on the right, the third window on the left, or the first hole on the fifth step.

Laughing to myself, I jog up the steps and away from the straw cart we had traveled through the afternoon in.

My gut feeling has rarely been wrong, which is why I’m a little apprehensive about this whole deal. Like I mentioned earlier, there’s this flashing warning sign in my head big and bright enough induce blindness in anyone with vision.

The inside of the building is in a condition similar to that of the outside. The inside is one giant room, with moth-eaten cloths covering couches in a failed attempt at keeping them neat. Gray reigns in supremacy, with very little having color. A mouse sits in the corner of the room, munching on… something.

It’s certainly not cheese.

Using the word “staircase” would be to mean it loosely. If you were to see it, you would swear it is a pile of wood planks nailed into the floor in an attempt to ascend above the ground.

It’s more of a safety hazard than a staircase, actually…

Deigning to walk up it, I place each foot cautiously, applying more pressure when I am sure it can take my weight. On the second to last step, I am sure it could take my weight.

I am wrong.

A lot.

A fact I forget more often than I remember.

With a yelp, I find myself one leg in the step and the rest of me out of it. I whimper as the splinters- of course there are splinters in this run down dump- dig into my leg as I try to shift my weight outside of the hole to lower the chance that it will fall even further down.

Then comes the yank on my ankle from below the step that is, oh, ten feet off the ground.

I scream as I find myself falling down into the stairs, but then it stops.

But that, my friend, does not mean the situation improves.

Au contraire.

A long wet something licks the bloody skin that shows through the tear in my normally durable pants made by the sharp splinters. There’s a shuddering moan below me before a suddenly shooting pain envelops my nerve endings as pointed teeth- or fangs- puncture the bony juncture of my knee.

Another half-strangled scream emerges from my throat as the pain and my eyes combine to form a fearsome image.

There are beautiful people surrounding me, with very lithe and graceful forms and pale skin that sparkles in the hint of moonlight showing through the cracks in the walls. But it’s a terrifying beauty that is very obviously meant to ensnare someone to their death if the victim never sees their eyes.

My gods, their eyes.

They’re black holes that gleam in the darkness. I cannot say they are hypnotic because they are not. Looking at them makes me shudder; thinking of looking away fills me with a kind of horror I have never experienced before.

At least I know what threat I am facing now, though. I’ve heard my father describe these creatures.

Bacchae.

Originally the worshippers of the god Bacchus, the Bacchae became a problem to the other gods, so Zeus decided to get rid of much of their power. He cut off their link to Bacchus so that their passion overwhelmed them. They became crazed and dependent on one thing.

The blood of young virgins.

Girls like me.

Whatever had bitten my leg lets go, but continues to slurp at something.

Most likely the blood that’s dripping down the stairs.

My heart is pounding at a pace that would make a rabbit drop dead of a heart attack as the Bacchae circle me in a predatory circle, their eyes seeming to show bloody circles. Something is familiar about them, but before I can think of it, a second bite clears my head of any thought as I scream until near oblivion.

Survival instincts kick in and I grab the old single-edged sword at my hip, stick both my hand and katana through the gaps in the banister, and swing it wildly at the Bacchae under the staircase.

The release of my leg tells me that I can move my leg a little more safely than previously possible. Gritting my teeth, I yank my leg out of the wood.

The pain nearly knocks me out. Unfortunately, training gives me no excuse to give in to this.

Instead, I sweep my katana around to give me some time to quickly tear off part of my pants to make a tourniquet for my leg. It continues to throb, but I can still jump.

Landing ten feet is bad enough to make tears come to my eyes, but that’s nothing compared to what is in front of my face right as I crouch.

Phil’s head, severed from his body that is crumpled beneath the stairs.

I run as fast as my leg will allow me.

:::::::::

Never trust weird people. It’s something my parents have taught me for years.

“It’s the weird ones,” they say, “that will want to eat you or enchant you so that you speak like a mongoose for the rest of your life, just for the amusement.”

I don’t know how mongoose talk, but I’m pretty sure I don’t really want to know.

Ever.

This is what I’m thinking while I’m dashing through the woods of the ThickestForest.

Let me say right now that this forest’s name is not a victim of being a misnomer.

Thus, that leads me to say that my “dashing” is the misnomer.

In fact, it is all I can do to keep my father’s old katana in my grip as I do my best to hack through the amount of tree branches in my way. They criss-cross like reeds being threaded into a basket, becoming a hard wall that sends shockwaves down my arm every time I try to saw through it.

Footsteps echo through the woods and to my horror, they are heading in my direction. Not my general direction, but coming right towards me. Another part of the Bacchae legacy is their keen scent of smell, like that of a horse smelling a thunderstorm about to come down. My own blood is a traitor- the tether between them and my body.

I can’t help but wish for Peter. As annoying as he can be- as much of an older brother he can be, he is the brilliant strategist of the two of us as well as the stronger one. I am the clever, witty one, but I have a feeling that puns and sarcastic jokes will not save me this time.

Now moving shadows approach through the darkness. Every so often a creaking from a light tread on gnarled roots gives me an idea of how close they are and my heart pounds even faster.

Something grabs my shoulder. To stifle a scream, I bite my tongue until all I can taste is the copper trace of blood.

My blood.

The blood that is apparently today’s rage.

Thankfully, Peter is only out for my blood metaphorically.

I hope.

“Peoria, you are- there are actually no words to describe how foolish you were to come out here,” he hisses in my ear in outrage. “Mother and Father told you to wait till tomorrow and then all of us would get to work exterminating these vermin, but noooo, you had to be immature and try to help these people. What. Were. You. Thinking? Assuming your brain even functions...”

I cut him off with a slap upside the head. “We’re in deep trouble and all you can do is blather on this and that. Honestly.” Then the thought occurs to me. “Wait, how did you know that these were Bacchae and not people in need of us?”

Peter shoots me The Look. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that says, “Foolish little girl. Oblivious little girl. Stupid little- I think you get my point.

“They were very nice. They were not harried or looking like they were having problems with a dragon. And for a second, that girl with the lizard lost control over her illusion and had black pits for eyes. Pretty sure that would disqualify her from any human beauty pagent.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, what we are going to do is go through my way of getting here, wait for them, and slaughter them.”

He is the perfect child, obviously. Never screws up like someone I can mention.

Holding my mouth shut so I wouldn’t give our location away, I walk behind him quietly until we reach a clearing that’s actually really close to our home.

But I know something that Peter doesn’t know. Bacchae aren’t lumbering and crazed monsters like they are from stories. They have brains. If they followed the path, they’d do so quietly.

This is why, as we’d been walking, I’d dropped crackers near the end of the trail so that we’d have some warning.

So when the crackling happened very fast, my katana was ready as was Peter’s double-edged scythe. As they came through the opening, our blades dropped them.

But Lucy- the Bacchae that had once been Lucy- was the sneakiest one. She came out low; lower than Peter and I had expected and stood in front of me with a sweet smile. For a second, I see Lucy as she had been on the trip to the farmhouse where I had nearly died. Loose blonde ringlets that twinkle in the star light bounce as light violet eyes look at me imploringly.

“Peoria?” Her soft voice wavers and I can feel the world crashing down on me. “How could you hurt my family? I thought we were friends…?”

Tears cloud the edge of my vision as the past sweeps over me…

…only to be torn away as Peter strikes her head off with a stroke of his blade.

It is only now- after the adrenaline rush and the present catches up to me- that I remember the bite to my knee.

I fall.

The world is a blaze of stars overhead as I stare, wishing the pain away.

Even though I can hear Peter’s footsteps approach my prone form, I say nothing, preferring to watch the brightness dance across the early evening sky.

“Peoria.”

His voice is soft, almost like a pillow. My bed. How I want it right now…

“She almost bit you, you know.”

The world jars to a stop.

“She was going to give you a death bite- something that would have been impossible to heal. Your life would be gone. And do you know why?”

I stop breathing. I know what he’s going to say. I know, I know, I know.

“Because you got close to her. Because you became blinded. All of the signs were there, but you…”

I can imagine him shaking his head in disappointment.

“I’m not always going to be right here to protect you. I can’t always point out what you can’t miss to stay alive. You’ll have to guard yourself better next time. Assuming there is one.

“Now come on. Dinner’s probably ready.”

With that, he walks away, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, as I stare after him.

I suppose he’s right.

Attachment is bad in our business, and it had nearly costed me everything.

I would become strong.

Even if it meant giving up what made me Peoria to become someone else.

xENDx

pandastacia @ 2009-07-24T11:28:00

2009-07-24T16:31:30Z

I'm bored. & this is for my original which I need a kick in the butt to work on. So yeah. For 30heartbeats

01.	Introduction	02.	The World Starts With Me	03.	Innocence
04.	Expectations	05.	Dreams	06.	Creation
07.	Childhood	08.	The Odds	09.	Puppy Love
10.	Sunrise	11.	Morning	12.	Kisses
13.	Shine	14.	Precious	15.	Preliminary
16.	Squeal	17.	Pinkie Promise	18.	Silver Lining
19.	Naive	20.	Shelter	21.	Always
22.	Hero	23.	Smile	24.	Hold My Hand
25.	Kick In The Head	26.	Eyes	27.	Fairy Tail
28.	I Heart U	29.	Dive	30.	Prelude

pandastacia @ 2009-03-13T21:43:00

2009-03-14T02:47:22Z

Because I'm possibly terminally insane (hahaha, I'm likely to accidentally kill myself by insanity...)...
I'm going to try for this themed challenge. a_to_z_prompts</lj>
I can only hope I'll be able to do it...
Go ahead.
Tell me how NUTTY I am.
I'm likely to agree.

01. A	aphrodisiac	10. J	jollification	19. S	serendipity
02. B	bearability	11. K	kleptomaniac	20. T	tyrannosaurus
03. C	communicative	12. L	luminosity	21. U	unacceptable
04. D	dissimulation	13. M	manipulation	22. V	versatility
05. E	extravaganza	14. N	numerology	23.W	watercolorist
06. F	figuratively	15. O	opportunity	24. X	xylographical
07. G	genealogy	16. P	procrastination	25. Y	yesterday evening
08. H	hallucinogen	17. Q	quinquesyllabic	26. Z	zoological
09. I	immortality	18. R	retaliation

welcome to coherence

sleep safely

pandastacia @ 2009-07-24T11:28:00

pandastacia @ 2009-03-13T21:43:00

!!!FRIENDS ONLY!!!

Gift! Fics...