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20thcentury-kylo · 3 years

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Tides Of Memory Chapter 2

Surprise!! Wanted to have this up yesterday but things sorta got out of hand, and tbh after this I'll be kind of busy so I atleast wanted to finish this one- anywho Enjoy

A wild flower hill overlooks the calm sea at dusk. The sky’s color fades into a midnight blue as the moon and stars peak from the clouds. Ebisu sits among the wild life- Guitar in hand as he hums a simple tune.

“Just breathe… just breathe- it’ll all be fine~” Soft strums from the instrument follow in simplistic patterns. As he gazes up to the stars above he feels no words could better fit the moment. Amongst the chaos of interstellar wars and the literal end of the world- a scene like this- it’s peace.. He could believe that it would all be fine. Kiome had already gone back- most likely to keep Ebisu from seeing him break down completely, but Ebisu knew.. He could feel it in his soul- the scared tremors, the subtle shaking in his hands. The rose haired musician swore he’d be strong for the both of them, he wouldn't make Kiome face this alone, he didn't have to be alone, not anymore.

“Maybe it's the question.. Maybe it's the answer~”

The quaking roars were gone, but Kiome was nowhere to be found. He promised to stay away but as Ebisu runs through the ravaged battlefield the only thought coursing through his mind is finding the chubby swordsman.

“Kiome!!” He pleads out their name gaining no response. With every step he takes, dread seems to fill him more and more.

“Just breathe.. It'll all be fine~”

The blood won't stop pooling between his hands, the tears in his eyes won't either. In the midst of it all he somehow finds the strength to laugh.. How unfair it all was. His beloved laid there dying in his arms and yet here Kiome was… singing to him. How unfair the world could be. The last thing he sees before the light envelopes them is the pained smile on his face, as he whispers it one last time

“Darling… i love you~”

Ebisu is a 17 year old boy living in the Nakano ward in Tokyo with his adoptive guardian. He loves tales of the sea, of lost treasure and one day hopes to venture out there on his own, to maybe find his own lost fortune. Ebisu has the strangest dreams filled with even stranger people, and fleeting whispers of feelings that leave dull aches in his heart.. The words always echo in his mind and he can't seem to explain the tears in his eyes as he wakes. It was all so… confusing, and yet when their eyes met… when their eyes met suddenly the distant haze seemed to be clearing.

They're such a soft shade of amber- so warm so… familiar. The feeling that follows is so intense that he can't stop the stream of tears that follow soon after. The boy in front of him winces- bringing a hand to graze his forehead, yet never breaks eye contact.

“I-i’m sorry, are ya okay?” Ebisu tries his best to compose himself- stifling the tears long enough to pick himself up off the ground.

“Dont worry ive been through worse.” whatever was ailing him seems to have subsided and yet- they stay there, gazing at one another in a tense silence. The boy eventually begins to speak when he’s caught off by a shout from the distance.

“Hey! That creep snatched My wallet!” The cries of a knocked down pedestrian follow as the therian sprints away. Instinctively Ebisu checks his pockets to find his own wallet missing.

“That little sneak-” The fisherman prepares to apprehend the transient- brandishing his signature fishing rod and hook. Yet before he can even start the backswing- the stranger he’d just met is already dashing towards the thief.

“Oh no ya dont!!” Before Ebisu can blink the apparent swordsman is already flying at the transient- his still sheathed sword arced forwards. The encounter is over in seconds with the captured therian pleading apologies as he scurried off. He’d been so stunned at the boy's ability that he hadn’t noticed the small faded blue wallet being shoved in this direction.

“You dropped this..” Their hands brush slightly as he takes the wallet- and Ebisu’s mind fixates on the fleeting warmth. He wants to thank him sincerely, yet the blush flooding his cheeks keeps his eyes averted choosing instead to focus on his newly re-acquired wallet.

“I um- I never got your name~” Ebisu manages to stutter out- still refusing to meet eyes with the mysterious swordsman.

“HEY!!” The recognized shouts of none other than Nankano’s resident viral sensation, Benten. She practically flies at them, her phone camera trained on the chubby swordsman.

“Kiome! Didn’t expect to see you ‘round here, especially pulling off moves like that~” In the midst of her excited rambling he hears the name…

“Kiome…” It’s almost scary how naturally the name rolls off his tongue. Ebisu finds himself unable to control the smile that sneaks its way onto his face.

“Ebisu- you manage to find anyone for your little adventure, I’m still rarin to go of course~” The sudden reminder of his previous endeavor has him more embarrassed than he honestly should be.

“Ebisu huh.. Well If it's adventurers you need- you’ve just found the right guy.” Kiome expresses with a subtle wink. The nervous giggle that erupts from the rose haired boy resembles more of a shy highschool girl rather than a trained fisherman. Ebisu escorts the 3 of them back to the restaurant he helps run. For once he was thankful for Benten’s presence, having her between them with her excited chatter was perfect for keeping him distracted. Even so he couldn't help but sneak a passing glance at the chubby swordsman when he got the chance.

They sit down discussing the plans over some tea, and while Ebisu, and Benten fall into their usual banter- Kiome is reminded of the warnings his friends gave earlier

“Yeah, I've been hearing a lot of those recently as well, though in the end- it doesn’t change what we hafta do.” Benten’s proud declaration earning a chuckle.

“Actually, I looked into those before- judging from the location of where these pirate ships were being sunk, it’s most likely they were confronted with mermaids; the Daughters of The Waves-” Ebisu informs them. From what he’d gathered- the mermaids were likely guarding the treasure. As he keeps explaining- Kiome gets that same unsettling feeling from before- this wouldn’t be some light adventure… This was serious. By the time they’d finished the three of them settled on a plan; Benten was in charge of finding a crew- people strong enough to stand against the apparent threat that awaited them, a crew that now included Kiome, and Ebisu would handle getting the ship, supplies, and salvage equipment ready which from the sounds of it- he was already on top of. Benten had parted ways at the shop's entrance, eager to begin her search- leaving the two boys alone, Ebisu having offered to walk Kiome back to the station. So as they strolled side by side- Ebisu decides to break the silence.

“Y’know this may sound weird but- I have the strangest feeling… that we’ve met before, somewhere.” His words cause Kiome to turn with a pondering expression, he had no memories of a past life, but somehow he held the same feeling.

“It’s weird but… I know what you mean~” From there they fall into light conversation, a simple game of 20 questions passes between them yet both still held the strange possibility in the back of their minds. Before they knew it the train's electronic whistle was heard from afar.

“Guess the fun's over for now huh~” Kiome’s words followed by a breathless sigh.

“Yeah heheh , i guess so..” The pearl eyed boy parrots back. Kiome turns to him, suddenly unsure of what to do. A hug?, just a handshake? To keep himself from dallying he settled on the latter, extending a hand out to his escort.

“Nice meetin’ ya-' ' Ebisu stares a bit in awe at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching back with a hand of his own. Their hands meet in a subtle shake, it's the first real contact they've had, and Kiome can't help but notice how soft Ebisu's hand is. There’s a whisper of a feeling, warm, and nostalgic- the two seemingly lose themselves in it for the moment. It lingers even as they let go, and with sheepish smiles and stuttered goodbyes the two part ways.

In the clear star filled night- the haze further clears on their memories. Ebisu finds himself unable to find easy rest, finding comfort among the midnight sky. As he sits illuminated by the moon- lost in thought, something long forgotten seems to return to him. He has no idea what it means but the prospect has him anxious and excited to find out

‘I wonder what it looks like’ He muses in his thoughts. Gazing up at the moon's glow.

“San Diego~”

#Housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #Tides Of Memory #mc5 x ebisu #kiome #fanfiction #my art #clip studio paint #i have an 8 work day stretch coming #so i wont rlly be active :p

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tatttletale · 5 years

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Pearl x2

Pearl had originally been manufactured for White Diamond, and she was aware of that.

The only problem was that White refused to take her in. So, while the other Diamonds repurposed her, she needed to be trained.

Generally she was sent on errands for the three eldest Diamonds; to handle affairs while their own Pearls were inundated. Needless to say, she got the most attention (if you could even call it that) from White Diamond, as she had no Pearl of her own. This fact confused her—she couldn't quite understand why the most powerful Gem on Homeworld would not have a Pearl. Perhaps she didn't trust anyone to handle her affairs, so she took care of it all herself.

Furthermore, she found it ironic that the youngest Diamond was to have two Pearls. Originally, things had been fine with Pink's first, bouncy Pearl, but now she was gradually taking on more responsibilities, White Diamond wanted her to be supervised.

A pattering made her look up from the focus panel, and it fizzled away beneath her fingers. Pink Diamond's Pearl was running through the hall, and upon entering the room Pearl was standing sentry to, burst into delighted giggles.

Her Diamond was inside, then.

Once Pearl regained her focus, she was startled to find the other waving at her.

A small smile raising the corners of her lips, she raised her hand in automatic response, and then caught herself, hurriedly calling up the dormant panel. The other Gem looked mildly disappointed, but didn't say anything.

○○○

She had been sent to check on Pink Diamond and so, accordingly, was stationed outside her chamber. She gave a polite knock but, hearing cries inside, unlocked the entry panels herself.

Inside, Pink Diamond was prancing frantically around her burning throne, and her Pearl was using a holographic harddrive in an attempt to fan the fire (which, needless to say, wasn't helping, as the high concentration of oxygen molecules in the air were just being pushed toward the flames).

Having heard the doors, Pink's Pearl glanced over her shoulder and met her eyes, colouring.

Soundlessly, Pearl hit the emergency panel, activating the sprinklers, and the youngest Diamond and her Pearl stood gawking as the fire gradually died. When the coast was clear, Pink leapt gracefully up onto the throne to inspect the damage, and her Pearl came wandering awkwardly over, taking up position beside the room's new occupant.

A few moments passed in silence. Then the tinted Pearl leaned over and whispered.

"The flames were pretty though," she whispered, eyeing her Diamond.

"High levels of lithium chloride coloured the fire," Pearl explained. "Pink Diamond's thrones are all fashioned from kunzite, which belongs to the spodumene mineral class. Spodumene is a prevalent source of lithium, and the colour-enhancing dye used in Gem architecture contains chlorine."

The other Gem blinked. "But . . . how do you know all that?"

Pearl gazed at her in confusion, and the other tried again. "You're not a Bismuth," she explained.

Pearl became even paler, if that were possible. "—Oh, I just— I have free time, sometimes, and I— I look into things, I research, and I. . ." Resigned, she hung her head. "Please, don't tell anyone else."

Pink's Pearl looked scandalised. "Of course not! Why would I do that?"

Pearl couldn't think of anything to say.

"Pearl! The throne's fine!"

The youngest Diamond's voice carried easily across to them, and Pearl jumped, hastily saluting. The other only laughed delightedly and spun back to the former. "Oh, Pearl, tell my Diamond what you told me! About the kunzite!"

Pink looked entranced, and she trotted over, crouched before the two and stared eagerly at Pearl.

"Kunzite? Isn't that what my room's made of?"

"Ah— yes, my Diamond."

Pink's Pearl nudged her. "Go on!"

"Ahem, well, kunzite belongs to the spodumene mineral class. . ."

○○○

"Why can't I have a colony?" Pink Diamond demanded, and she stomped her foot. "White has one, Yellow has one, and you've got at least five! I want a world, too!"

"Blue and I manage seven colonies each," Yellow interrupted resignedly, and Pink scowled indignantly.

"Pink," her blue counterpart sighed. "White and I have already discussed this. You're not ready for a colony yet. You should be happy! You have all the time in the world to go and play!"

"I'm a Diamond too!" Pink yelled. "I should have a world too!"

Blue abruptly changed tactics. "Well, you know what you have that we don't?"

Pink paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What?"

"You have an extra Pearl," Blue smiled. "We've been saving her for you, and now she's ready to begin her service. Today we're handing her over."

"And you had best behave," Yellow chipped in. "Your new Pearl won't be putting up with any nonsense."

Pink whirled and locked onto the second Pearl standing by the door. "What! She's—that's White's Pearl! Doesn't she need her? I don't need another Pearl! I'm happy with my own!"

"Pink, don't be selfish. You know how many resources are consumed in order to make a Pearl. And we've repurposed her especially for you," Yellow tsked.

Pink stared beseechingly at the other Diamond. "But Blue—!"

"No, no buts," Blue said sternly. "You've proven to be irresponsible on your own. This Pearl will keep tabs on you. She will make sure you stay out of trouble."

Pink scowled and Yellow levelled a pointed glare at her.

Standing sentry by the doors, the subject Pearls listened silently. The newest felt eyes on her and glanced at the other—Pink Pearl coloured and returned her gaze to the conversation. When the two larger Diamonds finally turned away, Pink Pearl took a breath.

"Hi," she whispered.

Pearl seemed startled, her eyes flicking to the former. Her pink counterpart waved timidly.

With a cautious look at the Diamonds, Pearl replied lowly. "Hello."

"It's—It's nice to meet you," Pink said. "Our Diamond calls me Pink." She held out a hand.

Pearl stared blankly at her. After a couple of moments, she suddenly smiled, and pressed her flat palm to Pink's in an attempt at an extremely passive high-five.

Pink stared. "That. . . was meant to be a handshake."

○○○

"Look, Pink! I'm balancing!"

Pink Diamond stood atop a rounded crystal ball, arms out and one leg raised gracefully.

Pink Pearl laughed delightedly. "Perfect, my Diamond! And it's wobbling, too!"

The entry panel chimed and the Diamond yelped, startled and thrown off balance. The doors slid open, revealing the newest addition, arms full with holographic harddrives.

Pink Pearl stopped laughing and shot her an anxious look.

Pearl turned and, upon seeing the Diamond, dropped the harddrives in horror. "Oh! My Diamond! Please, get down from there! It isn't safe!"

In tandem the Pearls rushed over to the flailing Diamond, and while Pink Pearl tried to grab her hand, the newer Pearl waved her arms in an incredibly ineffective attempt to assist her Diamond. She came toppling over, taking both Pearls with her to the floor.

Flustered, Pearl sat up, wincing and glancing around. Oh dear, her Diamond might be hurt, and what if the others found out—

Laughter pierced the air.

On her left, her Diamond was lying, unbothered, giggling hysterically at her own clumsiness.

On her right, Pink Pearl was chuckling into her hand. She glanced up and caught her gaze.

Pearl couldn't help her own laughter at the silliness of it all, and soon all three were lying together, laughing in tandem.

Their carefree giggles wound up into the air and tangled together, carrying out the window.

The whole of the Pink Court echoed with the remnants of childish pleasure.

PROMPT: "How about when pink pearl met our pearl? What was the reason pink diamond got 2 pearls? How did they interact?" — for mwaheed2001 on Fanfiction.Net! Hope you enjoyed!! :3

I just had to be a smartass and drop a nerdy Pearl in there. . . Forgive me.

Based on the canon animatic!

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#steven universe #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #steven universe au #pearl plus #pearl plus au #pearlplus #pearplus au #pearl #pearl su #pearl steven universe #pink pearl #pink pearl su #pink pearl steven universe #pink diamond su #pink diamond steven universe

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alchemisland · 5 years

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The Moors Mutt - I

Part II coming on Tuesday!

I. Old Stone

The beast I knew only in folkloric snippets. Hedge whispers perverting history to arcana through time immemorial. Perhaps too I had known it in nightmares, shapeless until named, becoming then familiar as a bedchamber.

It was grim autumn when that fateful letter arrived, setting in motion a chain of events both strange and unlikely. In retrospect, that a series of vignettes so bizarre could start with the simple act of a posted letter seemed comical.

The letter landed with a thud, dubbing me sole executor of the late Lady Renton Sizemore's last will, a grim charge requiring a trip to her wicked home, listed in the Briarscombe country house register as the third most bloodstained holding in England.

Dislike isn't the word. Lady Sizemore and I got on famously when last we spoke, thirty years ago. I wasn't the doting schoolboy turned dribbling manchild spending Saturday nights at bingo. Neither was she the elderly relation procuring coins from behind ears to the delight of the youngers.

We were not eachother's keeper. Why I was suddenly favoured for this sensitive task that required more mental finesse than anyone in the family gave me credit for out loud, puzzled me greatly. Somebody must have annoyed her at one of her events. Sandwich gala on the Pringle Estate destroyed by careless nephew's untucked shirt. In true family style, whatever infuriated her she took to the grave.

Once the money was apportioned, I was to ensure no stone went unturned, apt phrasing given its namesake. Cairn Cottage stood oppressively atop the mound some two hundred winters, a plundered megalith shielding against the bracing gales.

Up there the flowers bloomed blighted, grass grew sideways and only the sturdiest roots survived. Without the megalith's girth, perhaps those winds might have toppled the twisted demesne, but she held firm now as old.

Mystics, druids and spiritualists alike extolled the house's phantasmic virtues. Fringe groups scrambled to reserve exclusive use of the land for Candlemas ceremonies. Lady Sizemore didn't care, provided she was soundly remunerated.

Rumours abounded of hauntings, anomalies occurring on the land by midnight's trickery.

Upon receipt of instruction, I spurred my carriage toward Cairn Cottage, the house in whose shadow no local walked without rosaries.

Although my visit was primarily administrative, there was another matter pertinent to my interests. One muttering which above all others inspired fear. A cautionary tale warning children from the grounds by night. And sometimes, on cold and lonely nights, a brave man wandering alone might see fit to take the longer road home.

Worse than druids, they said a beast lived on the Moor. A hulking creature, whose snarling teeth bared in fullness of dark glowed like spears of starlight, whose stark brightness was dulled only by the gleaming viscera of previous engagements clinging in ragged flaps.

However the rumour started, it long sprouted legs of its own, more exciting with each recounting.

No smoke without fire. I intended to find the single primal ember, the lone truthful element, stripped of frill and frock, fancy and folly, bereft of myth, or loyalty to tradition. Was there something in the fields by night? Was it dangerous?

First came Sperrin, a grizzly hamlet outside the estate's confines. For a penny, a local lad promised to find a suitable nook for the trap. I visited the sole watering hole, a squalid cellar named Lar's. The tavern itself was not charmless, offering average vintage for below average prices, warmth, music, rustic flattery and inimitably, whispers of the beast.

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With his arms folded across his simian chest and those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon chieftain. He stood astride the bar against a backdrop of coloured bottles. Immediately upon entering his eyes set upon me with great intensity. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. Occasionally I'd catch one staring at me, then turn away as I waved. After a while sitting and sipping, making a game of catching their nosy glances, I signalled Lar's attention. 'This is probably going to sound strange. Probably because it is. Hear me out though. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange out on the moor?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he moved a muscle. 'Have in fact. Not now though. Too many around. Later.' His lips barely moved. I tipped my nose.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side of the bar.

'The beast, you say?' He leaned in close, one eyebrow raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you a thing or two about the beast alright.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity is burning. I won't rest a wink until it's satiated. Tourist talk aside, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these forests?' I inched forward, as if by closer proximity, the truths would be truer.

'Regular Theseus, eh? Monster hunters, we have had plenty. Lovers of darkness too. Students of forbidden arts. All are served here. Kings and paupers alike. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The manner of his prattling meant the tales he told were true, or this was practiced.

'No.' I replied, 'I have business in the cottage. My heart though, she belongs to this creature. I am not a quack, nor a holder of séances. I am not a man of low learning on the hunt for falsehoods. I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

He continued, 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You wanted this.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

Everything made sense. Was I seeing clearly? More than ever. I saw his ruse; city boy down for the day, take him for a ride, tell him the usual stories. A pal of his will burst in at just the right time, scare me half to death, then they'll take me to the supposed hot-spot for the low price of everything I've got. Lar took me for a lettuce. Something in his warning tipped me. A little over-arch. If his performance was not theatre, then Shakespeare never wrote.

Doubtless once finished, Lar would proffer some overpriced talisman no fellwalker could risk refusing.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its shadow.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He did the same, then wiped the amber residue on the back of his hand. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing. Neither of us wished to be responsible for qualms.

He broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart this week you'd be contending with a monster, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am summoned, not here of my own volition.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar gladly dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom as if they were sweets from a bulging striped bag.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I slurped loudly, head bowed. Like a pulled plug, half the liquid gone in a single gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels.

He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too and all, that she built those walls to house it.'

'It?' I asked

'It. The beast.' Lar's voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over. Dabbling where you shouldn't.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this theory. Me personally, I think it came from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the cairn.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was the one stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed, or wanted to believe, that he had seen something. Hoping not to seem needy, I drew myself close to him, the bar still between us, 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it now. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees the distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand before you.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he then removed and hung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief, which clanked against the timber as he let it fall. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him as a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth is those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpieces, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. He had the chiseled jaw of a marble bust in profile, but his mouth hung open permanently, moist lips pursed like a fish.

He placed an enormous hand on my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his splayed fingers that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour, something harder than masonry or smithcraft. Mayhaps soldiering overseas.

I stared at his hand. He never looked at me. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?'

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with the same look of bemused ignorance.

'You hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end, and not in a godly way.' Lar laughed, a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted themselves. He spoke several octaves lower, miming offence at my observation. I started to explain I intended no hidden subtext, but Lar waved to indicate all was taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like some enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie too, once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning so intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he made, and makes, a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy my own selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please, continue.'

'I will at that.'

'It were one night, three years ago. Ferg was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottage. They wouldn't work until the evil was killed or driven away. We came down from the high road proper and saw it between the trees ahead. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robe. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled, it became an orb of shadow, nothingness.'

'Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this site, one of only two wells being located nearby. In a flash then it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed it and set it back properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of their cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar paused to sip and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby, in a blink, become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turns out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painting the air blue in his articulation, 'Each new, shifting moon we came to that spot and watched. We took it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger.'

'Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings.'

'Me? I know about animals. We make a fierce duo. We inquired in advance about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with lengths of rope overshoulder and the angriest looking traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain.'

'Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang, dispelling the subterfuge of his intentions and, in the length of a breath, his beings and inner machinations were laid bare. Far from the sinister goldlust and murderous intention I had silently attributed to him, he seemed eager in an earnest fashion, willing in the name of a job done.

I observed Lar, powerful and straight. 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave me. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say about that. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots, generally ensuring nothing eats me. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.'

Wordless, we shook hands and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened whiskey bottle, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?'

'Not for everyone mind, so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.'

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. Before following the publican to the warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered, the nightmare broke free her paddock, thundering across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves ringing shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions noxious pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found I was formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the others. That if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below me. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

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