The Asylum

[Tio_Narratore]

"Merci bien, ma chere Artina," Tio dit, " Oui, je suis un vrais quebecois, et je porte un Speedo tout le temps...mais sans le <<tux>> en la Floride."

"And thank you for your kind invitation, Ma'am," he added, "I gratefully accept."

Realizing it was an invitation to see for two, he turned with a theatrical flourish of his evening cape to find Flare standing behind him.

"By your leave, sir," he said graciously as he reached for the 16 oz. claw hammer he spied suspended from Flare's suspenders.

Amber cried as Tio pried her nails from his ankles with the peen of Flare's hammer. "Where will I go?" she wailed; "What will I do?"

"It is of your own choosing, Amber; arise, for you are a free woman. The nails that fixed you in place are gone."

A wave of Tio's arm signaled his deference to the other in entry, and he himself followed, dazzled by the photonic remains of the recent sidereal cyclone.

He sat and bandaged his still-bleeding ankles.

Looking up in awe at Artina, he clapped his hands in excitement.

"Oh, Artina," he exclaimed in eager curiosity, "What have you to show? What have you to tell?"

 

[Artina Heartflash]

A plate of brownies lay on a round table at one side of the room, and alongside it lay Tat on his back in middle of the round. His left ankle was propped on the upright knee of his right bent leg, as he munched casually on one of the treats. "The brownies are for anyone who wants a taste of the bizarre," said Artina. "The surprise is what's inside each brownie. It may be a piece of bubble gum. It may be Mr. Monopoly's tiny hat charm. It may be a Pompeian artifact or war relic. Whoever wants one can bite and tell me what they find."

A loud crunch was heard by all who sat at the round table. Extracting a small, dirty morsel from his toothy grin, Tat mused aloud. "Skull head on a peg. It could be a game piece from World War 2. Or---" He looked at Flare---"It could be tuning peg from a lethal musical instrument."

Artina put her hands on Tio's, her face a bit worried. "Tio..." she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. She tried to transmit through her eyes some events of the past few days: Tat with her hair wrapped in his fist, Tat considering a jump out the window with strange logic, Tat telling her she was playing a dangerous game ( and his voiced warning carrying tones of Carl Jung during Seven Sermons to the Dead.)

She swallowed hard. "Tat thinks he's The Angel of Death."

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Tio took a brownie and chewed slowly, contemplatively.

"That could be a dangerous game," he said as he looked reflectively into the sadness of Artina's eyes and felt the depth of the sadness in her hands.

His tongue rolled around his mouth, caressing the smooth object liberated from its chocolate cache. His fingers found it, extracted it, and offered it to Artina.

"A tiny acorn," he observed, "from which mighty oaks do grow."

Tio glanced towards Tat and turned back to his hostess, citing a poet from his distant and recent past.

"Carpe Diem.
You can't out walk the Angel of Death;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
You can't out talk the Angel of Death;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
Death is a-comin in;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
Carpe penem. Carpe cunem."

"You'll have to keep him away from the Bucket of Life, for now, lest he kick it," Tio advised Artina. "In the longer term," he added medically, "this may help."

From a fold in his cumberbund, Tio drew forth a sprig of pale green leaves and white berries. "This finds its life in the death of an oak, Artina," he explained, "follow its instructions; Tat and his mother/lover may return from the underworld as did rabbit and so many others, even without the sacred cenote."

Tio tore a piece of bloodied bandage from his left ankle, stood, and tied the mistletoe to Artina so that it hung free above her head. He bowed his own head down to kiss each of her sad eyes. His own eyes searched the room and saw in a closet a pot of loamy soil. As he brought it to Artina, he wondered if Flare might offer a brighter spark of hope.

 

[Dramaticflare]

Flare took a tasty morsel concieved in chocolate and put 32 horses on pink hills to stamping. He pulled something from his mouth and looked at in his palm. "What have I got in my hand?" He asked quietly.
"I think I know.," Dramatic came in saying. "It rusts iron and kills kings. Itbrings down mountains and ends worlds."
Flare nodded, then opened his palm to Artina. "I give you time." Meanwhile, Dramatic took himelf a sugary treat filled with wheat, and pulled out an object small and red from his mouth. "Ooh, a rarity. It's a treasure chest with no keys. The treasure is fire. Scramble the insides and have tattoo eat it."
Dramatic handed her the Pheonix egg.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Tio took a brownie and chewed slowly, contemplatively.

"That could be a dangerous game," he said as he looked reflectively into the sadness of Artina's eyes and felt the depth of the sadness in her hands.

His tongue rolled around his mouth, caressing the smooth object liberated from its chocolate cache. His fingers found it, extracted it, and offered it to Artina.

"A tiny acorn," he observed, "from which mighty oaks do grow."

Tio glanced towards Tat and turned back to his hostess, citing a poet from his distant and recent past.

"Carpe Diem.
You can't out walk the Angel of Death;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
You can't out talk the Angel of Death;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
Death is a-comin in;
Sing, Cuckoo, Sing.
Carpe penem. Carpe cunem."

"You'll have to keep him away from the Bucket of Life, for now, lest he kick it," Tio advised Artina. "In the longer term," he added medically, "this may help."

From a fold in his cumberbund, Tio drew forth a sprig of pale green leaves and white berries. "This finds its life in the death of an oak, Artina," he explained, "follow its instructions; Tat and his mother/lover may return from the underworld as did rabbit and so many others, even without the sacred cenote."

Tio tore a piece of bloodied bandage from his left ankle, stood, and tied the mistletoe to Artina so that it hung free above her head. He bowed his own head down to kiss each of her sad eyes. His own eyes searched the room and saw in a closet a pot of loamy soil. As he brought it to Artina, he wondered if Flare might offer a brighter spark of hope.

The acorn turned golden in Artina's hand. "Hope!" she whispered. "I feel hope!" As Tio sang the Summer song, she raised an eyebrow, wondering if the acorn should have cuckoo's nest mixed into the soil when planted.

She was a little disturbed by the bloody bandage which Tio had tied the mistletoe to her head. "Should not the cloth be clean white so the sprig remains untainted?" she asked. She unwrapped the bandage from her head (as it began to tear from her crown barbs). "I shall put this mistletoe beneath my pillow and perhaps dream of my Prince Charming," she smiled.

Tat cocked his head at her statement, and the silly cockatoo feathers lifted off his scalp momentarily, curling into a backwards question mark.

"Thank you, Tio," said Artina, kissing him on the forehead lightly as she held the separated sprig over her head.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Flare took a tasty morsel concieved in chocolate and put 32 horses on pink hills to stamping. He pulled something from his mouth and looked at in his palm. "What have I got in my hand?" He asked quietly.
"I think I know.," Dramatic came in saying. "It rusts iron and kills kings. Itbrings down mountains and ends worlds."
Flare nodded, then opened his palm to Artina. "I give you time." Meanwhile, Dramatic took himelf a sugary treat filled with wheat, and pulled out an object small and red from his mouth. "Ooh, a rarity. It's a treasure chest with no keys. The treasure is fire. Scramble the insides and have tattoo eat it."
Dramatic handed her the Pheonix egg.

Artina was amazed at the two gifts, but moreso surprised at the givers. "I didn't expect anything in return when I laid the brownies on the table," she said. "But the gestures of returned kindness amaze me."

"Time, Time, Time after Time" she chimed, sounding a bit like Cindy Lauper. She listened to the tempo of a heart in the metronome shaped object, she squeezed the form, reshaped it, and it turned into a trapeze on which hung a row metal spheres. She pulled one end sphere out slightly from its company and let it go. It clicked against its neighbor and the sphere at the other end jumped sideways and began a reverse click. She contemplated how the balls were rather like people, who may touch one neighbor and the impact be felt by another at the other end of the line. Click, click, click, click continued the rhythms of the toy.

The Phoenix egg intrigued her, but she had never thought of scrambling it. "I guess the embryo inside would still be potent if he's mixed up?" she wondered aloud. She inhaled too deeply. The Asylum air was certainly affecting her senses. "Thank you both for your gifts. They are indeed treasures."

"TATTOO????"

The tattooed man sat up on the table and jumped to his feet, his boot heels hitting hard the tabletop. "You called me TATTOO?" His voice became dwarfish in mockery as he pointed left and right at the air above., "BOSTH!! DEE PLANE! DEE PLANE!" Growling again in contempt, his hands rested on his hips, his eyes bulging like hard boiled eggs. " Dramatic," he continued, "Your egg is cracked. I have my own fire!" With that he belched and a huge blaze streamed across the room at Dramatic. It didn't damage the warrior, but the heat on his armor rose in waves, like wrinkles in time.

"I am TAT," he asserted. "But you can call me AZZY."

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Artina clutched her barbed crown in tension. "TAT, you are not AZRIEL! You are a man..."

His voice stopped her thought before she could finish. "ARE YOU SO SURE?!" His question was a steaming hiss.

His mother trembled a bit in fear mixed with desire. His intensity was enormous, not only in his display of soul but in his jeans. Then she shook the excess sparks from her crown and put her hand on her chest. Her fist felt like it was holding a megaphone to the feelings within her heart. On her catsuit slowly appeared wet spots. "You make my body cry, my heart weep fire. Of this I am sure."

"Woman, I could fuck your brains out."

His words felt like a wave of heat which covered the distance bwteen mother and son. For reason beyond her understanding, the mind of Heartflash saw the moon turn to blood. She swooned, wishing for the eclipse of his lips over hers.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

OOC : I"M SO BORED I AM ON THE EDGE OF BECOMING A TROLL...

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“The little acorn gives birth to the majestic oak, and then Death strikes down the great tree,” intoned Tio, “but its decaying xylem and phloem feed the minuscule seeds of the mistletoe, and that holy vine blooms from the arboreal gangrene, yielding fruit of death and resurrection.”

A voice interrupted Tio’s invocation.

“Rat-a-tat-tat, tat-tat, tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat, tat-tat.”

“Rat-a-tat-tat, tat-tat, tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat, tat-tat.”

Amber floated into Artina’s room dressed in a silver shroud and imitating a snare drum.

“If you be Azriel, then fuck her brains out. Drive your necrotic xylem through her womanhood and up her spine ‘til you tear the hymen of her medulla oblongata!”

With her words, a fiery orange circle sparked between Amber’s legs and shone through her shroud.

“ta-TAT, ta-TAT, ta-TAT, ta-TAT,” she drummed incessantly, and with each beat the glow spread, reddening until her silver shroud was suffused with scarlet.

“Yes, Azriel, if Azriel thou be, let Eros drive the chariot of Thanatos through the parted waters of the Styx. Fuck your mother! Fuck your lover. Fuck her brains out. Fuck her to death! Fill her with semen from the depths of the Lethe. Let her be forgotten.”

A tide of tears flooded Tio’s eyes and then ebbed as he rose and placed his hand atop the glowing crimson orb that had been Amber.

“Luna wanes and waxes in her menses, exsanguinating and resanguinating, finding death and rebirth in the quadriseminal cycle of the Archangels, and is eclipsed as lips over lips by the all-mothering sphere that is Gaia.”

With Tio’s recitation, Amber’s glow waxed low until even her shroud dissipated into mist, and she stood naked, rocking her hips seductively at Tat, at Tio, at Dramatic and Flare, and even at Artina herself.

Turning to Tat, Tio continued, “And the Angel of Death has no dominion. Azrael may only accompany travelers through the Valley of Death; he may not lead them there nor may he drive them there.”

“And, yea,” he concluded, “though I myself walk through the Valley of Death, I fear neither man nor spirit, for I am the meanest son-of-a-bitch in the valley.”

“Here,” said Tio, turning towards Artina and opening his hands in offering, “they will not harm you.”

His hands were bloodied with thorns, and as they fell before Artina, their piercing tips stayed in his flesh and they were harmless.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"FORGET YOU !!!"

The words were thrown back at Amber, spit from both Tat and Artina's mouths at same time. The audacity of the woman to flaunt her sexuality was not offensive to Tat nor Artina, but the horribly graphic instructions that Amber gave Tat, urging him to exert Violence to be rid of Artina, was too much pressure. Bolts of electricity flew from mother to son and back again, binding the two in protective barrier.

"DON'T TRY TO PUSH ME! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY WOMAN!!!" roared Tat at Amber. He whipped his gaze at Tio and shouted "YOUR BOOKS MEAN NOTHING!!! I WRITE MY OWN!!! YOU CAN'T DETERMINE MY LIMITS!!! YOU don't know all my names!!! NO ONE knows all my motives, and NO one in this Asylum has the omniscience or omnipotence to judge anyone else here!!! Because MAMA MAMA MAMA WEER ALL CRAZEE NOW!!!"

His voice suddenly became a smothered grunt of surprise as Heartflash's mouth dropped forcefully over his own. He heard no more of the others' psychobabble, for her hands were sealed tightly over his raised ears, clenching them madly like teacup handles.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

"Well, Scotty, it looks like you've taken care of it," announced Tio.

"I can't take credit for it, Jim," a disembodied voice with a slight burr responded, "I can't take blame for it either. I had nothing to do with the re-alignment of bipolarity in the asymmetric deuterium cores."

Amber smiled coyly and whispered "looks like my work here is done." She lay down on her back, raising and opening her legs in Flare's direction.

"Blame, Scotty? What do you mean?"

"Dammit Jim!" the burred voice exclaimed, "what about the Prime Directive? How do we know that the tension between Eros and Thanatos isn't the dynamo that drives this civilization, some kind of Electradrive in Blue? Maybe all we've given them is entropy!"

Amber smiled, hummed a chorus of "Blue Moon," and folded her legs in on herself. And folded again and again until she faded into the mist, leaving only her super string bikini unraveling through hyperspace.

"Dynamo? Electradrive? Entropy? You sound like an engineer, Scotty. I'm a man. I have feelings, and I have to act on those feelings."

"I'm sorry, Jim, but when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, you're a Nono."

"Nono!" The word stung Tio to the quick, and he perceptibly aged as his head fell into his hands.

"Mia Luna!" he cried, "Mia Luna! Mia Bellessima Luna!" The tears ran down his cheeks and dripped between his fingers. "I'm confused..."

 

[Artina Heartflash]

On the signals screen breaks the news.

We interrupt this program with a word from our sponsor.

"CORNFLAKES ARE NOT BRAIN FOOD...but consumption of cornflakes is better than eating nuts and bolts."

Skull face appears on screen and cries, "THE HELL IT IS!"

On the screen appears transmission from falling security cam as it scans down the length of Tattooed man on round table top. Glimpse of a wild looking woman is caught on cam. Her garnet lips are darkening and swelling, furiously enveloping his passion pouch. Bolts of static electricity crackle across the visual.

The screen bursts into silver and begins to sweat sparks.

Suddenly the visual returns, and the volume of the signals has risen. A blue nude man is deeply chanting "Death, Death, Death..." using his fingers to pick the locks on the femme fatale's exterior. "Death to your sorrow." A padlock falls. "Death to your boredom." Another lock drops from her crown. "Death to your inhibitions." All of the woman's chains scatter onto the table then slip onto the floor. "Death to all discomfort". The chastity belt falls from the woman's hips.

The screen flickers wildly, bolts twisting into new image. The blue man's luminous penem penetrates the cumen of nude blazing woman interlocked. She is kissing his hands which bear letters of LOVE across knuckles of left and "HATE" across the right knuckles of the blue man, and tribal images are rising in Indigo on his skin. "Death to your negative self image of destruction," she proclaims.

The screen shoots out energy in whirling balls of blue lightning. Through the electric web they fly, surrounding the two on the table in Heartflash's room. They bounce continually, lighting the couple. Swiftly the balls gather, multiply and bounce, and soon cover the couple entirely, until the man-woman is but a mass of energy in motion, pulsating and shapeshifting.

Suddenly a noise shakes the air---a cry of Pheonix? A big bang? A shout to the Supreme Being ? It is heard by all and yet uninterpretable.

The fullness of light breaks into feathers, free floating in the slowing, deep breaths of spirits. Only the woman remains on the table. Seems she is waking from a dream, her hands on her belly. She murmurs softly with pleasure, affectionately musing in afterglow.

"Little Death".

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Tio's ears perk with the interruption, and he dashes into the phone booth/anti-self abuse clinic at the back of the closet. Dr. Kellogg emerges and proceeds to the woman on the table. After a superficial examination, he speaks.

"The body is clearly in the early stages of Orgasmus Mortis; the woman is only a little dead. This could have been avoided if she had been fed cornflakes to reduce her carnal desire."

A voice rises in plainchant and another joins in free organum on the perfect fouth. They end the chant in a Gregorian unison.

"Playing through!" Dr. Kellogg's voice rolls from the tee down the fairway only to be trapped in the bunker. Strains of a faun's afternoon waft over the green in prelude to the frolics of the foursome ahead, but the good doctor tees up and drives anyway. A good ball! It's on the green in one bounce, but the roll takes it right into the wrong hole.

"Who invited you to play?" Orestes shouts back at Kellogg, "and you'd best keep your one good ball far from my sister!"

"The rules require it be played where it lies," declares Kellogg as he descends from his hand-drawn cart and searches his pants for an appropriate club with which to address the ball where it lies.

"WTF?!?," exclaims Tio as he emerges from the booth, "who let this quack out?" He looks down and sees a green carpet where Amber once lied down. A different woman is there, and just as spread as was Amber. He glimpses a bit of a dimpled white orb nestled in her womanhole, and asks, "Electra?"

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Artina was still a bit drowsy from her experience, but she snapped mildly at Doctor Kellogg. " May be a rooster on the outside, but there ain't no cock inside the cornflakes box!"

She patted her belly again with motherly affection. "Yes, baby, keep on kickin' " She hit one more golf ball to Mars. "Now you can GET OFF MY TURF, Doc."

The woman on the floor had a golf ball in her mouth now. Using a black magic marker, Artina playfully scrawled a *@* cuss symbol on it.

 

[Dramaticflare]

(OOC: Tio, your random knowledge on the origins of Kellog makes me happy.)

"Did... did that just happen?" Flare asked.
"Yes," came Dramatic's sole response.
They returned to a state of semipassive observation.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Artina looked up as she heard the voices of the two observers. Something strange stirred within her. It felt like a kickstart to her heart. She tried to get up from her kneeling, but lost her balance and landed on the woman below, boobs smashing the other female's boobs flat. "OOOH NOOOO..." she graoned, seeing what she had done. She pulled on the nipples of the woman, stretching her breasts out long several inches. "Is she just a rubber doll?!" she gasped. "Guys, you can blow her back to shape. I need to go to closet and find an army blanket. I am cold."

She stepped to the closet, mumbling. "What is wrong with me? I totally forgot I am nude. But for a time I didn't care."

 

[Tio_Narratore]

"Harrrrrumph, Madam," Kellogg retorted lamely as the shaft of his No.1 Wood went limp. "I see that my services here are sorely needed..." He paused as he glanced around at the two voyeurs, the naked woman supine on the carpet, the naked woman not supine on the carpet, and the quite rude man who emerged from the closet that Kellogg thought was his own. "...But clearly unwanted," he concluded. With that he dissolved into a soggy mass. Tio quickly caught the once-inflated doctor in a Majolica bowl and placed him outside Artina's door for the cleaning staff to attend to at their convenience.

"Wow, Artina, that was some drive!" declared Tio in awe at her tee shot that soared to Mars.

"Oh yeah? Just watch what I can do with a little frottage,"mumbled the woman on the floor.

Tio stared at her. "Frottage?' he asked; "are you Electra?"

Before he could even try rubbing her, Artina lost her balance and fell on the hapless nude. Artina's cussball and Kellogg's one good ball erupted from her orifices simultaneously and streaked out the window. Tio knew what she was up to. A random fall, and two protons were unleashed, atomless. He watched for the chain reaction, but before either could collide, Schrodinger's cat leapt from the rampart. Adroitly he seized one by the front paws and the other by the hind, and deposited both in the lavender-scented litter box.

The woman-who-might-have-been-but-wasn't-Electra found both her boast and herself completely deflated by the artful Artina, and Tio wondered how Dramatic and Flare would share the blow job. Then he remembered Artina and her naked goosebumps.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "I think I might have knocked the army blankets off the shelf when I was in there."

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Tearing though the closet, Artina could not find what she wanted to wear. Nothing seemed to please her. Even when she saw an army blanket on the floor, she kicked it aside, seeing lovely moths fly up out of some holes they had chewed into it. Underneath the blanket though, some strange patterns left in dirt on the floor caught her eyes and made them blink several times.

She snatched up a roll of white paper and ripped a 36"X 36" piece off. Placing the paper over the gravel and grit, she rubbed a pencil tip over it furiously. The pattern that appeared on the paper mystified her. "It looks like design of an ADIDAS sole." She murmured. She turned it upside down and saw another image. "oh GOD! " she gasped, holding the paper to her heart like a guarded secret.

She stepped from the shadows of the closet with some hesitation. Finally she threw caution to the wind and waved the paper like a flag at the company in the room. "I don't think this is Tio's footprint," she cried. "Can anyone tell me who or what left this dirty imprint in my closet?!" She released the art to the air.

She propped her feet up on the coffee table in front of the love seat. Her closet was a mess, but she knew it may be deeper than it appeared. "Bilocation... multilocation... " she mused, hopeful.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

As she waited for anyone to investiagte the footprints, she tapped her own propped feet together while she poked the descrambler on the signals screen.

Speckling the screen, a mass of static snow swirled wildly. From the mass appeared a German Officer in full Nazi uniform. One by one six more German soldiers appeared, following the leader. All had bloody faces and scary, intense eyes. Artina froze as she watched the closeup of the gruesome line coming toward her across the cold, windy, thick white landscape.

"Ded Sno!" she gasped.

And to her own horribly dark delight, she privately began fantasizing about a gang bang. "Good GOD---" she muttered in shame, burying her face in her hands.

She slapped the screen until the picture scrambled again, hoping no one had seen what she had viewed.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Tio quickly checked the soles of his feet. Sure enough, the print was completely missing from one. The left, he realized, and wondered where he had lost it. It would likely have been left behind in the snow behind Artina's wardrobe, but he had no idea of who/at might have left something on the closet floor.

The arousing noise of TV slapping caught his attention. "Sticks and stones may break my bones," he said, "but a bit of B&D is exciting."

On the third (or was it fourth) slap, a picture faded in from the snow. The scene panned from the battered backs of the 6th Army to the victorious 62nd, in full array. Every man was in his uniform white snowsuit, and General Chuikov stood before them dressed as Ded Moroz.

"Give it to them, Gang!" the commandant exclaimed, and the Gang gave them the biggest Bang of the whole campaign.

When the smoke settled, only one in twenty snowsuits were standing, and the red dye from Ded Moroz's suit ran into the white.

"A treat for the Glorious 62nd Army," he proclaimed, and a troika drew up with a life-sized Matrioshka dressed as a Ukrainian Snow Maiden.

Father Frost opened her up, and out jumped one beautiful, buxom, blonde beauty after another, each quite live and each with one less article of Ukrainian peasant girl dance clothing on.

Tio stared at the TV, squinting through the snow, as his tongue lolled farther and farther from his mouth with each new snow bunny's appearance.

 

[Dramaticflare]

Dramatic moved into the room followed by Flare. They longued against the wall as people were executed and then women showed up for a party.
"The close relations death and sex. They always follow each other around, the sluts." Flare said.
"It is my experience that they are utterly unrelated." Dramatic countered, "But then again I've never had sex."
"Really?" Flare quiried, then shrugged, "Kinda hard now that you're a spirit."
"Indeed. Not important anymore." He then drew his sword and started cleaning it of blood.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Artina punched herself in the chest gently. "Dang...heartburn again," she muttered.

"Death and sex may go hand in hand here, but they are not lovers. They are not enemies either. They are just misunderstood things which coexist. There is good and bad in each."

She looked at her palms. One had precious dreams, the other nightmares....and both hands were so full of such that she could not grasp them all to make use of them, nor to translate them. She felt them slipping through her fingers like sands of time. With a kiss, she blew some excess like glittering rust at Dramatic and Flare. She knew not what else to do for the two.

Tio was still standing in front of her, but his back was turned. His shoes were soggy with his own drool as white snow bunny after snow bunny boarded a train which bore a huge, ornate snow blower. The signals screen giggled and screamed. Heartflash suppressed a shout which might have caused Tio to move his fine ass.

She knew the hour was late ----perhaps it was too late for her.

Slowly, with a blank expression on her face, she rose from the loveseat. After patting Tio's back lightly in fondness, she turned to an opposite wall. As she moved toward it, her head was bobbing, imbalanced, one moment held high in chin-up pride and the next bent in humility. Into the hum of the closet interior she stepped, and closed the door, locking it from the inside.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Inside the closet Artina reflected on her past, pondered her future, and sometimes wondered just where she was in the present. The possibilty that her closet was a portal to another plane was solidifying into belief. The more she dug through the contents, the deeper the closet became. Yet she did not know where the precise area of intersection was, or what would be on the other side. "Heaven? Hell? Both? Neither?" she mumbled aloud.

She thought of the people she had met in her life, in a world seldom seen by others. She recalled there was much physical, fleshy interaction there in attempts to make an intimate connection. Yet no connections remained intact, all those people were gone now. She believed some of those people could have been better friends but were not seeking the same things in friendship as she sought.

All night she stayed in her closet. She felt like she was wrestling demons and angels...and none of the challenges she engaged in were pleasant. , She usually enjoyed challenge and wondered why this night it was different . One angel twisted her ankle playfully to cause her fall. She wished he would bear her lame self up in arms to take her home, but that didn't happen. He just muttered that her boot heels were not good joysticks, and he disappeared.

She had questions for Dramatic and Flare, but wondered if the two would think them important enough to answer. No way to know unless she presented one or two, before they slipped from her mind. Out of the closet she emerged. The first sound she heard was a lone mourning dove. She wished she could find it and cradle it to her heart.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Dramatic moved into the room followed by Flare. They longued against the wall as people were executed and then women showed up for a party.
"The close relations death and sex. They always follow each other around, the sluts." Flare said.
"It is my experience that they are utterly unrelated." Dramatic countered, "But then again I've never had sex."
"Really?" Flare quiried, then shrugged, "Kinda hard now that you're a spirit."
"Indeed. Not important anymore." He then drew his sword and started cleaning it of blood.

Opening the window for fresh air, the lone mourning dove flew in and landed on Artina's shoulder. She cooed into its ear its own song.

She stood before the two men leaning on a wall, pondering their stance and words. Her voice broke into rap.
"Dramatic,
Why does the blood on your sword
Smell like Crapberry gel
From a Thanksgiving Feast
Which was held in Hell?
Did the Succubi spit
The wishbone from their lips?
Did they tell you your thong's
Pulled too tight in your hips?
Did your virginal steel
Shine too hard in their eyes
That they thought you cold hearted?
Red drum rhythm. Blood flies.

Tell me why."

She faced Flare. "No rap challenge, just simple questions for you:

"You said death and sex follow each other around and you called them 'sluts'. Likewise then, are you and your instrument sluts to each other? When you bounce your guitar from behind, and thrust your hips against her curves, does it excite you? Do you bite her nerves of steel? Does she move you with her cries? Do you play with the fire which rises from her belly? Do you choke the life from her just to slay your own brother? "

She took a deep breath and held her peace, stroking the dove which had fluttered down to nestle against her heart.

 

[Dramaticflare]

Opening the window for fresh air, the lone mourning dove flew in and landed on Artina's shoulder. She cooed into its ear its own song.

She stood before the two men leaning on a wall, pondering their stance and words. Her voice broke into rap.
"Dramatic,
Why does the blood on your sword
Smell like Crapberry gel
From a Thanksgiving Feast
Which was held in Hell?
Did the Succubi spit
The wishbone from their lips?
Did they tell you your thong's
Pulled too tight in your hips?
Did your virginal steel
Shine too hard in their eyes
That they thought you cold hearted?
Red drum rhythm. Blood flies.

Tell me why."

She faced Flare. "No rap challenge, just simple questions for you:

"You said death and sex follow each other around and you called them 'sluts'. Likewise then, are you and your instrument sluts to each other? When you bounce your guitar from behind, and thrust your hips against her curves, does it excite you? Do you bite her nerves of steel? Does she move you with her cries? Do you play with the fire which rises from her belly? Do you choke the life from her just to slay your own brother? "

She took a deep breath and held her peace, stroking the dove which had fluttered down to nestle against her heart.

Dramatic puased as he wiped the hemoglobin off of his blade, and looked at her. "You look like you've been fighting demons, and I should know considering I've done it before. As for the particularly hellish smell of the substance, that is due to the nature of what it is: demon's blood. I didn't meet a succubus though and even if I did I didn't pause to ask it questions. When something comes to kill me, I strike first and ask questions second. And everything has come to kill me, until now." He flicked his blade and an amount of blood proportional to the number of rap lines Artina sent in his direction landed in a circle around her.

Flare laughed as she asked her questions, and started tapping on his guitar's neck rythmically.
"When life was first created at the beginning of time
death was there to ensure it wasn't an endless rhyme
When mankind again commits the atrocity of war
Watch a victorious soldier rape a woman like whore
They cause the chaos and sow the seeds of our destruction
Without the concepts we might have had a chance at redemption
And you equate me with these hellions?
They're worse than any demon
And I love my guitar because I love me, myself
Nor am I one to sit up musty on a shelf
We are one and the same, this guitar and I
Just like Dramatic and his sword, aye?"

Dramatic nodded. "aye."