Be Wary of Strangers, Part 13

Guess what?! I finally wrote a thing. It’s been done for almost a month. But let’s say I waited until Fall weather made an appearance, and just ignore my terrible life-juggling skills, ‘kay? (Crud I just now realized I still have my winter theme from last year.)

I am also working on designing and monetizing a website for fairy tale retelling, so keep an eye out for that. (See? More specific than “I’m working on another blog”, so I’m making progress. :P) And writing for a Deadzone group, I might be doing that soon. Totally unrelated to the aforementioned website, but my brain is melting and I feel the need to jam everything I’m doing/going to be doing in one section.

Hurry, read the thing before I start rambling about my knitting projects!

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Part Thirteen

A day and a half later, Loki is well enough to attempt cleaning the house. Painstakingly, he goes through the rooms, one by one. He doesn’t leave, to try and find the woman or his brother. One reason was that, despite his rapid healing, and even with the aid of a few spells, he was still weak. He shudders to think of what would have happened had Thor not still retained a modicum of control. The other was that the woman had left her jacket. It had an inter dimensional pocket, and should she survive her encounter, she would likely return for it.

Stopping to rest every few hours, he manages to clean the house. Out of habit, he heads down into the basement. With a torch in hand [check previous parts, can’t recall if they use electricity or fire], he navigates the maze. At first, he goes along with his head lowered, eyes half closed.

As he nears the room, his head jerks up.

Is that...breathing?

He whispers a spell to enhance his hearing, lowers to a half-crouch, and readies a dagger. Both Thor and the woman Delilah are in the room; Delilah lay sprawled on the bed face-down, Thor is on the floor at the foot of the bed in a heap.

Loki scowls at the woman. While Thor undoubtedly gave her trouble, there was no need for her to toss him aside like that. He holds his fingers together and aims a spell at the air above the woman’s head.

An explosion sounds, and a few lights flicker about the room. Thor makes no move, though Delilah stirs.

She blearily looks around, then stalks over to Loki’s side, ignoring the illusion that he placed in the doorway.

In an instant, she’s at his side, hissing into his ear: “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You’ll have to be specific.”

Delilah’s fingers close around his throat. “That you’re from another @!#*& world.”

“Does that change anything?”

“Everything.” She winces and lowers herself to the floor—without relinquishing her hold on Loki’s neck. He awkwardly lowers himself to sit beside her. “Oh.” She releases her hold and runs her hands through her hair. “The rules of your world, the rules of this world—they’re fighting. I can neither cleanse nor kill your brother. Your magic won’t work much longer if you stay. I could help—provided you choose to remain here. Permanently. If you relinquish whatever—”

“Done.”

Delilah raises her brows.

A rueful smile tugs at his mouth. “Our family is dead, our home destroyed, and the universe is on track to be obliterated.”

“And you tried to drag that bedlam here.” She shakes her head. “I don’t like you.”

“Get in line.”

With a sigh, she leans back. “I need to rest. Maybe eat.”

“What blood do you require?” Loki stands and rubs his neck briefly.

She eyes him with disgust. “None. Do you have coconut water?”

“I could acquire some.” Before he leaves, he asks, “What artifacts are needed for the ritual?”

“What ritual?”

“Do you not need to perform a ritual to sever ties from my previous home?”

Delilah snorts. “I’m a vampire, not a Fae.” She yawns and uses the unconscious Thor as a pillow. Before he can object, Delilah raises a hand and points towards the ceiling. “My friend is upstairs. Go check on her.”

IDIA Cover Reveal

I am happy to announce that there's finally a blurb and a cover for book three of the IDIA series! And also that I am hoping to be moving to a new blog; I'm getting tired of Google in general, and Blogger's various...let's call them quirks...are frustrating me to no end (I haven't looked at my old posts since the new update; I'm scared to see what's been done to them). Several times in the making of this post alone, I had to fight the urge to punch the computer screen.

Back to what you came here for:

You don't have to scroll to far down to see the cover, because I don't want to make you wait any longer than you already have. Drum-roll please, and then we shall commence.

Blurb

Albany and Brooklyn York are taking a much-deserved break from IDIA work and visiting their grandfather’s farm. But even far from the city, they find that they can’t quite escape their lives with IDIA—or FOE. When the twins find out that someone from FOE has set up shop in their neighborhood, they decide they need to find out what’s going on with FOE, once and for all. But when they learn of secrets that rock their world, will they still know who to trust?

Cover

Author

                                                 

Just a college student trying to find out where her King is guiding her, while writing the stories of the people she creates, the worlds she wants to live in, and the adventures she dreams about. Also known as a mythical creature called an “author.”

Find her at:
Writing Blog

Life Blog

     

Reblog- Hobbes and Bacon

Calvin and Hobbes tribute- “Hobbes and Bacon” is a “Calvin and Hobbes” tribute that takes place 26 years later. I had nothing to with creating these cartoons – I am merely posting them here so that you can see them. There are four – and only four – but that’s enough to get the message across. You can see larger versions of the images by clicking twice on each image:

Came across some Calvin and Hobbes continuation strips. They’re so cute!
I also came across a few called “Calvin and Company,” but I can’t find a place where all of the strips are together and in order...

Reblog- Specfaith: A Shadowy Argument for Christian Fiction, and Others

A Shadowy Argument for Christian Fiction- Shadows cast by stories can sometimes obscure the truth, but can Christian fiction paradoxically illuminate through shadow?

Is Prayer in Fiction Fictional?- What constitutes an unrealistic view of prayer in fiction?

Getting the Most out of Conferences- What an opportunity, then, for writers to pick the brains of these professionals at a conference, starting with a presentation—a pitch—of their own work. How else can writers find out if they have an idea that captures the interest of those who are experienced?

The first story that came to mind, in regards to the second article, was Failstate by John W. Otte.

It was action-packed, full of suspense, and the protagonist faced some tough decisions. All went well (for my reading, not the protagonist), until...

The prayer scene played to the "God of the Vending Machine" trope. It wasn't enough to totally ruin the book for me, but tears were shed. (And I'm upset enough that I haven't picked up the book for a re-read. It was an awesome story with unique use of powers, but the relationship between God and the protag was messed up.)

The protagonist doesn't really care about God. Until he's being pounded 6 feet into the floor, that is. Sure, in the course of the story he shot off a few "help please" prayers (who doesn't?), but he doesn't really "believe"/give much thought to God until he's given a deus ex machina. I mean, he made it this far "without help" (according to him, as literally none of his earlier pleas are answered in the positive); what's one more fight?

Maybe I'm due for a reread, since it has been a while since I read it, but every time I think about that prayer scene...okay, since I'm still dwelling on it years later, maybe it did ruin the book for me.

But, if that kind of thing doesn't bother you, you'll probably enjoy Failstate. It has a gripping story line and unique usage of powers. However, much of the story has a dark undertone. If you want a heavier (medium-weight? It wasn't nearly as dark as Reapers) read, definitely check it out.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 12

It has been brought to my attention that the “/” in the title “Loki/Thor…” typically means a ship. I was unaware of this when I first started writing, so I apologize to any who may have been confused by this. I’m not a Thorki shipper, and this fanfic has none of that. I had been using the “/” to indicate that I’d be doing parts from both Loki’s and Thor’s POV.

On the plus side, I learned this shortly after I decided I wanted to make a banner for this mini-series. So I’ll be working on going back and changing the title/adding the banner/whatnot, and fixing any POV mistakes (I’ve noticed myself slipping into past tense a few times). The new title for this series is “Be Wary of Strangers.”

Also, the font I used for previous posts is not available on the version of Scrivener I’m using, so that’s going to change as well. :P

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Part Twelve

Sharp, icy air drives the breath from his lungs, clings to him like a blanket. Thor struggles into a sitting position. He’s on a mountain range, surrounded by rocks and blocky trees laden in frost. Not snow; frost. Stars glint faintly overhead, covered in a thin haze. He sees no moon.

He laughs. “Did you trap us on Jotunheim, brother?”

A sharp wind, whisking away his laughter, is the only answer.

“Where am I?” He mutters to a pile of rocks vaguely reminiscent of a biped, trying to recall. “I remember doing this before. Waking, finding it hard to remember. Loki. He’s normally here. But where…is here? Not Asgard. Not after Hela…” Memories begin flitting back into his mind, as difficult to grasp as an adolescent bilgesnipe. “Oh. Odin’s beard, I died.”

He stares numbly into the sky.  “Father? Heim…Heimdal? Can you hear me?”

“Who’s Heimdal?”

Thor bolts to his feet. Someone stands behind him. Someone female. “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite recall…”

And then he did. Loki’s hirelings. The deaths. Feeding.

His eye widens. Before he can thunder out an apology—he hated not being in control of himself—the girl laughs. “Don’t apologize; it might get annoying if you keep doing it.”

Despite wearing nothing except Midgardian pajamas, she doesn’t seem cold. She skips through the snow to his side and hugs his arm. “I don’t want to get annoyed with you.”

She giggles oddly. Thor chuckles nervously. “Yes. Well.”

He’d been fighting someone. The realization came as suddenly as his memories. He glances down at his torn shirt, at the dried blood on his hands. But that’s old; crusting off, and not indicative of the fight he felt aching in his bones. “Would you happen to know who I fought?”

“Your brother.” She frowns. “You said you saved me.”

“Ah.” As he struggles to recall, Thor’s eye flicks every which way. Then he finds it. As surely as if the thing were standing in front of him, he finds it.

“Get inside. Please,” he says to the girl. She obeys without a word, heading inside the cave hidden among the rocks.

Thors fists clench. He begins striding down the mountain. To the empty air he shouts, “I know you’re there!”

The darkness in his mind coalesces. His senses sharpen to an unbearable degree.

From behind, a wry-sounding female voice says, “I can help, you know.”

Thor whirls on the newcomer. An outrageously tall woman, with dark green eyes and the bearing of a Valkyrie stands before him. He shakes his head. “I could swear that isn’t how you looked during our last encounter.”

She shrugs. “Accept my help, and things will go smoother.” She takes one step, another. The snow makes no sound beneath her feet. Her feet make no imprint upon it.

Thor backs away. “No! You drive me to madness—”

“As does your brother.”

“—and force me to do that which I have no wish to do!”

The woman tilts her head back, lips parted in a dry laugh. “Ah, you flatter me. But I have no power which you do not grant.”

“Then begone, foul creature of darkness!”

“But if you let me help, you’ll have time to mourn.” Her tone turns placating. “Don’t you want that?”

Wary, Thor’s eye narrows. “Mourn?”

“Yes. Everything. The loss of your home. Your friends.”

Pain tears through Thor’s skull. He screams, falls to his knees.

My people…

Thor grits his teeth. The view of trees and rock blur before him. His vision tunnels until all he can see is a village. A village of giants, and beings made of fire.
Murderers. Demons.

Without realizing it, his voice and the voice of the woman speak in harmony. “And what better way to mourn than to destroy races responsible for death and destruction?”

With a yowl, Thor leaps. Lightning crackles through him. Like a demon himself, he flies through the air, heading towards the village.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 9

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Nine

You wake when a heavy pounding echoes through the house. Moaning, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and feeling around for your slippers. When you can’t find them, you yawn and force your eyes open.
The first thing you notice: It’s daytime. The second thing: This isn’t your room.
Mouth agape, you bolt out shouting, “Loki!”
You find him downstairs in the foyer. You’re ready to rail at him, but the sight of two people dressed for war standing in the doorway stops you in your tracks.
Loki glances over his shoulder at you, brows raised. “Good morning.”
One of the people—a man with light leather armor, a crossbow, and stakes strapped to his arms and legs—eyes you. You shuffle uncomfortably, conscious of the cutesy design on your pajamas. You wonder if he can see the outline of the knife holder strapped to your arm.
The man addresses Loki. “Who is this? You said you were alone.”
“I’m a habitual liar,” Loki says easily. “It gets worse when unexpected guests decide to threaten me in my own home.”
The other—a woman with bandoleers strapped across her chest, two pistols, pouches, and a heavy silver cross necklace—huffs. “I take it you lied about the door being ravaged by vandals, then.”
“Of course.”
A wild plan begins to form in your mind. “Wolves!” you blurt. “It was wolves.”
Loki’s expression momentarily turns murderous. You do your best to make an unobtrusive “trust me I have a plan” face. As you don’t have much practice making that kind of face, you’re uncertain if you succeeded.
“There were so many wolves,” you continue, sounding panicked. “They were howling and scratching for days. Nights? And I swear I saw someone out there with them.”
The hunters’ eyes light in anticipation. The man’s gaze slides to Loki. “You said there were only wolves.”
Loki doesn’t look at you. He sighs. “The vampire is in the basement. I caught him last night. I hadn’t realized that my servant here had seen him; I had been hoping to avoid exciting her. It’s hard enough to keep help around here as it is.”
The hunters’ surprise is obvious. They glance at each other. The woman draws a pistol. “Would you mind taking us to him? The sooner we take care of this, the better.”
“I would rather you not,” Loki says slowly. “You see, he is—used to be—my brother. Is there any cure short of a second death?”
The hunters look sympathetic. “I’m afraid not,” the man said. “Not if he’s already died and returned.”
“I was afraid of that.” Loki heads towards the kitchen. “Follow me. We’ll have to use the outside entrance; I barricaded the house entry.”
“Smart.” The man nods. He follows, drawing his crossbow and giving you a wink. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this taken care of quicker than two shakes of a rabbit’s tail.” He grins at his companion. “Come on, Traci!”
Wondering what Loki is thinking, you follow, and hope this won’t end terribly. As you join him in leaving through the back door, Loki subtly presses a key into your hand. “Free him, but do not let him out of the basement.”
You glance behind you. The hunters aren’t that far off. “What about them?”
“They’ll think you’re me.”
“Huh?”

You enter the basement through the outside door, wondering if Loki’s plan would work. And why you want it to work. It would end in the deaths of the hunters. You’re not normally one for bloodlust, but can’t help a slight grin at the thought of not having to deal with them any more.
“This basement seems to have been prepared,” the man says, his eyes wary. “You said you caught him just last night?”
“Er, yes,” you say, discomfited at having to play the part of Loki. He didn’t get a chance to explain, but from what you can tell, you’re covered in an illusion of some sort, and somehow have Loki’s voice. Loki himself—disguised as you—is waiting outside. “I’m not certain who owned this mansion before,” you say. Hopefully Loki hadn’t bragged about building this place from the ground up. “There were quite a few other features that needed taking care of. I thought I’d leave this for last.”
“Hmm.”
You know you’re nearing Thor’s bedroom. You hold out the hand that’s not holding a flashlight and gesture for the hunters to wait. To your surprise, they don’t ask for a reason. They simply nod, crouch, and ready their weapons.
You turn a few corners and see Thor upon his bed. He’s curled up in his red bedsheets, asleep. You glance behind you to make sure the hunters haven’t followed. 
Hurrying up to Thor’s bed, you shake his shoulder and hiss his name. Even though he doesn’t respond, you open his shackles.
The click sounds unnaturally loud.
Bullets whiz past you, and an arrow embeds itself in the wall slightly above your head.
The hunters burst in, yowling and firing their weapons. “Thought you could betray us?!”
You scramble back, flailing, and fall behind the bed. “Thor!” you scream. From your vantage point, you see him rise in a low crouch. He leaps from the bed, growling sleepily.
The hunters’ shouts of victory change. You peek out from behind the bed. Though he seems like he’s still half-asleep, Thor is handling himself well.
He catches a crossbow in mid-air, snapping it in his fist. The bullets don’t seem to do much more than annoy him. He charges at the man, knocking him to the ground. A horrid CRUNCH echoes in the room.
“Rudy!” The woman flings some of the pouches. They puff on the ground around Thor.
Holding a hand over his mouth, Thor charges through the smelly mist. Sparks travel along his body. When he tackles her, he’s out of your sight.
You can still hear the fight, though: screaming, dark laughter, cracklings, a snap, wet slurps. The entire room smells like vampire repellent and burnt flesh. An odd shimmer surrounds you. Was it Loki’s spell fading?
Thor staggers back into the room. Blood dirties his mouth, trimmed beard, and no-longer-blue shirt front. His head lolls loosely. His uncovered eye is dark. He approaches and lays across the bed. Resting his chin on his arm, he smiles.
Heat rushes to your face.
“You feed me well.” You find yourself unable to move as he briefly caresses your cheek. “Thank you.” His fingers trace down the side of your face and rest on the flutter of your quickening pulse. He scoots closer, his mouth inches from your neck. Sounding sleepy, he asks, “You don’t mind…do you?”
“Uh—!”
“THOR!”
He jerks up. Sparks dance in his eyes. You teeter back and brace yourself against the wall, breathing fast.
Loki stands in the entry. “You still have a full body. Take that, leave the girl.”
“I’m unchained now. Did you plan that?” His voice is a low, smooth hiss.
“Remember yourself, brother.”
More sparks flit along his body. Then, it strengthens to arcs of electricity. Thor starts to shake. “I…I…” The light show dies down. He rapidly shakes his head. “What…oh! Who have I killed?” He turns and sees you. His eye—now a light blue—widens. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no. I’m fine,” you croak.
Thor backs away, holding his hands out uncertainly. He glances at Loki. “Get her out.”
“Gladly.” 

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 7

Just in case I'm not able to post another part tomorrow, as I promised (3 in one week), this part is a little long. Almost 2K words.

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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Seven

After the second night of howling and attacks on the house, you’re desperate. During the day, you went outside to see the damage done to the door. It was bad. You don’t think it could handle another night.
Loki’s been gone for nearly a week. You can’t go into the basement alone, not if you want to be certain of getting out alive. But then, how much of a chance do you stand if the wolves make it inside?
A few hours before dusk on the third day, you head down to the basement. You’re not entirely sure how Loki opened the door. There are runes, but you’re no sorcerer or magician. Running your fingers along the frame, your nails catch in a small groove. A key hole.

You putter about the first floor of the house, checking likely places Loki would hide a key. Finding nothing, you head upstairs. You check Loki’s room first. Everything is green, gold, and black, like his wardrobe. You wonder absently if there’s significance behind the colors.
Against one wall is a small fridge. Checking inside, you find containers and sacks of blood. You nab two of each, place them in a bag you find under the bed, and continue searching for a key.
When your watch goes off on the hour, you move your search to the library. Only an hour left before sunset, you think. You had been hoping to be in and out before the vampire wakes. Now…
Shakily, you flip through books and rummage through the desk. You find the key slid into the spine of a book on vampire lore. It’s thin and gray, with a single notch at the end, and the top is twisted in a Celtic knot. A black ribbon ties it to the inside of the spine.
You glance at your watch, then out the window. Half an hour before sunset. Hopefully that’s long enough to make it through the maze, leave the blood, and find the back door.
Feeling woefully unprepared, and holding a flashlight, you head down to the basement. It seems colder than last time. As you enter the maze, you can’t keep your teeth from chattering.
The nearby rattle of chains doesn’t exactly help your nerves. The vampire couldn’t be awake…could he?
“I…” You lick your lips, willing your voice not to crack or shake. “I have food.”
You round each pillar with apprehension, expecting—
Movement blurs to your right. A heavy body shoves you to the ground. Your flashlight skitters across the floor and flicks off. Claws brush against your throat. A single red eye looms above you.
You screech.
The vampire yowls back. You feel the bag being torn from your grasp. You hear the leather bag being torn open, and horrid sucking sounds.
You stay on the ground, breathing hard. After a minute, you slowly sit up. The sucking sounds diminish.
The vampire sighs heavily. “Thank you, maiden. I’m sorry if I hurt you; I smelled the blood, and I…I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re welcome,” you gasp. “If you’re sane at the moment, would you mind getting my flashlight? I can’t see.”
“Oh!” Sounding eager to help, he heads past you. “Here you are.” The flashlight flicks on inches from your face.
Temporarily blinded, you reach out for it. “Um…thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Have we…been properly introduced? I’m Thor.”
“Yeah, yeah we have. A few days ago. More like a week, now.” You stand, trying not to look at him, shining the light at his feet. The smell of blood is strong enough you’re certain he got most of it on him rather than eating it.
“Ah. I recall. Vaguely. Did I attack you?”
He sounds so contrite you can’t help but look at his face. His expression matches his tone. His visible eye is a light blue. When the beam of light remains on him, he seems self-conscious. He glances down, eyes his hands, rattles the chains attached to his wrists, touches the blood sticking to him. “It’s funny,” he says quietly. “Everyone always said my brother was the mad one. Now look at me.” His head snaps up. “Where is he? He’s normally the one who comes. Is something wrong?”
“He’s fine,” you say hurriedly. You don’t think it’s a good idea to let him know that you’re alone in the house. “He’s just…resting.”
Thor half-smiles. “You’d think my brother would have found someone who lies better.”
In an attempt to change the subject, you ask, “Are you still hungry?”
Thor’s eyebrows go up. The blood caking his other eye cracks a bit. “Are you offering for me to feed?”
You take a few steps back. “He has more vials and stuff upstairs.”
“Oh. Yes. Please.”
As you head to the back door, you hesitate. “Hey. The other night—for a few nights, actually—you called wolves to the house. Is there any way you can…I don’t know, call them off? Because I have to go outside to get back in the house.”
Thor shakes his head. “I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea. Can’t you just go through the cold door?”
You shake your head. “Loki didn’t think that would be a good idea.”
“That whole thing about undead being trapped?” Thor snorts. “A door is a door. I can go through either. If this magical stake would let me.” He jerks his hands, and the iron stake floats into view. Runes, dark for the moment, are etched on its surface.
You weigh your options. Potentially allow him a means of escape, or potentially be devoured by wolves? “Alright. I’ll be back.”
You head to the iron door. Thor doesn’t follow you, for which you’re grateful. The door opens from the inside, though it’s difficult and it keeps trying to swing shut on your fingers.
When you return, you find Thor at his bed. He sits on the edge, looking down at his clawed hands. At your approach, he looks up. His eye flashes a bit.
Hurriedly, you toss the packet at him. He snatches it out of the air. Fangs extended, he bites into the plastic.
You watch, grimacing, as he slips into apparent ecstasy. Blood dribbles from the sides of the bag and catches in his tangled hair. The bag is quickly depleted. Thor tilts his head back and sinks to his knees. Half-smiling, he says, “Thank you again.”
Trying not to gag, you put your hand over your mouth. You make a mental note to reprimand Loki later; he should have tried cleaning Thor up before now. “Mmm-hmm. You…you really need a bath.”
Thor sighs and presses his back against the bed. “Aye. This is hardly befitting…” He trails off, looking a bit confused. He growls, then seems to remember your presence. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to recall my past while you’re around. I’d rather not hurt you.” He stands. “There’s a bath somewhere in this place. Loki showed it to me at one point. I just haven’t been sane enough to use it.”
“Do you need clothes? I doubt your brother’s things will fit you—”
Thor laughs.
“—but he might have something.”
“No, no, these rags will do. If I can manage to clean them.”
After many wrong turns through the maze, you come upon a small bathroom. There’s a tub set into the stone, and a platform with soaps, shampoos, and towels. There’s even a loofah. It seems Loki wasn’t entirely negligent, after all.
Thor turns the knobs set into the wall above the tub.
“Wait!”
He looks at you, surprised. “What is it?”
“Running water can be fatal to vampires.”
Thor scowls down at the stream of water. “Then why would Loki…” Carefully, he sticks his finger under the stream. With a high-pitched yowl, he leaps back. Clutching his hand to his chest, he growls, “Of course he would.”
“Maybe still water is okay?” you suggest. “Here.” You turn off the water.
Thor hesitantly sticks another finger in the still water. “This doesn’t hurt, so I suppose it’s safe.”
“I can help.”
Thor’s eye darkens slightly, and he smiles. “Do you want to?”
You feel your face turn color. “Do you need help?”
“If you’re offering. And you don’t mind. I would appreciate it.” Thor shuffles a bit. “Perhaps…if you turned off your light? Would that make you more comfortable?”
“No. Definitely not.”
Thor laughs. “Go, I can do it. Wait…” He grabs a sponge and soaks it with the water. Holding a hand beneath it, he squeezes it out. He hisses and drops the sponge. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll just have to be careful.”
As you turn to leave, you ask, “How long before you need to be fed again?”
Thor frowned. “I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t been able to keep track of time very well. Three…” He pauses, letting the water run. “Hungers? Days or nights, I suppose.”
“Alright. I’ll make sure Loki doesn’t do this again.”
“I wish I were able to leave. To be by his side. I don’t like sitting here, in the dark, not knowing. Not being able to help him. Because he needs help, very badly.”
You nod emphatically. “I understand.” With a wave, you turn and head back into the house.
Three days. I have three days before he needs to be fed…

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 4

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Four

As he opens the door, Loki feels a pang of guilt. “She’s just another mortal,” he mutters to himself. “I do not envy her task.”
Loki steps into the unlit room. Pillars and alcoves seem to make up the entirety, forming a loose sort of maze. He navigates it easily despite the bones—small, most likely having belonged to rodents—unlit candles, and shattered wood planks littering the floor. “Must you make such a mess, brother?” he calls to the shadows.
The sharp hiss of chains scraping against stone send chills up Loki’s spine. 
“I know you’re here.” His brother’s voice—unusually sinister and predatory—hums through the darkness. “I can smell blood. So warm, so sweet.” Silence drags as surely as the chains had.
“A real treat to eat?” Loki eventually says. He forces a small smile. “You sound almost on the verge of poetry.” He emerges from the odd maze to a raised platform. On the platform is a large coffin, re-purposed as a bed. It used to have four posts; they are missing, likely the result of an outburst of temper. 
He lights a sconce set into the wall above the bed. Twisted blue and red sheets cover it, and the pillows lay haphazardly about. Loki sighs.  “I have supper.” He tosses the small black case. It lands just inside the lantern light with a clatter. 
Another drag of chains, and Thor emerges from the shadows. His clothes are tattered and punctured. His nails are long and sharp, his mid-length hair scraggly and unkempt. Fresh wounds, as if from claws, ooze from his chest. Old blood crusts one of his eyes and numerous areas of his body. His good eye, normally a brilliant blue, is saturated with red from the iris outward.
“You’re looking better,” Loki says.
Thor’s mouth twists in something between a gasp and a smile. Without a word or a glance at his brother, he lunges towards the black case. He tears it open, and scrabbles with the metal lid to one of the canisters of blood.
Loki waits, knowing any help offered will be ignored or reviled. He tries to keep his breathing even, his face impassive, as he watches Thor.
Thor growls at the canister. He squeezes the glass, which begins to crack. The runes etched into Thor’s chains glow. With a weak whimper, Thor sinks to the ground.
Loki moves forward. He carefully unscrews several canisters, leaving them upright, then returns to the platform.
Thor blinks and slowly rises. When he spots the opened containers, he howls in joy and sets upon them.
Loki’s face twists in disgust at the bloody display. It twists still further at his thoughts: I’ve done this to him. This is my fault.
“Are you finished?” he asks.
Thor is leaning against one of the pillars, head lolling back in apparent ecstasy. “Hmm?” He blinks slowly and lifts his head. His single eyes loses some of its red and focuses on Loki. “Brother.” He sounds unsure if he should be saying it like a curse or an exclamation of joy. After looking down at the mess on him and the floor, he says it like a curse.
“Yes, hello,” Loki says with a sigh. He descends from the platform and stands beside Thor. “I’ve found a caretaker for you.” He begins to kneel.
Thor’s eye glows red, and he lunges at Loki’s neck. Instead of finding flesh, his teeth clack against an invisible shield. He shakes his head. “What…? Did I…”
Loki straightens and nods.
Thor slumps against the wall. “I’m sorry.”
“He said you could grow beyond the curse.”
“Who?”
“The one who turned you.”
Thor grimaces, and he laughs slightly. “And you would believe someone who could give such a curse.” He looks as if he’s remembering something. Sounding slightly panicked, he says, “The others. The others you brought before, you said they would be caretakers. They’re gone, aren’t they?”
“No, they’re fine. I managed to separate you before they were drained completely, and returned them to their villages.”
Thor observes him for a minute. “You’re lying.”
“Fine, don’t believe me.” Loki puts up his hands. “I thought that, perhaps, with both fresh and donated blood, you would do better.”
“They’re dead. I killed them. The blood of three innocents and who knows how many more—” Whatever composure Thor has breaks. He leaps to his feet gesticulates wildly as he speaks. “I would have given you a proper warrior’s funeral! A pyre, a boat, anything to—mother—father—” He breaks down and wails. Jerkily, he reaches out and grips Loki’s jacket, hefting him in the air. “Why did you do this to me?!”
Loki wraps his steady, clean hands around Thor’s shaking and blood-stained ones. “Because I need you!”
“But at what cost?!” Thor presses Loki against one of the pillars, still shaking. “I can feel it, this, this, thing inside. This curse. It’s eating me alive. Or, or is it dead? I’m dead, and it’s still eating me…” He trails off and his grip grows slack. Loki’s feet touch the floor.
Hurriedly, Loki pulls away. “It’s keeping you alive. You, apparently, want to stay dead.”
“Yes! That’s it. I died. Why couldn’t you leave me alone?” Thor stares gloomily at his untrimmed nails. “But I can’t give in. Not when this beast inside wishes to…oh.” He glances up, and for a moment almost all red is absent from his eye. “I wonder if this is how…what was his name? I’m having a hard time remembering things…”
“The vampire said mentioning past events would run you into a frenzy. I’d rather not.”
“But he might be able to help! Gah, I think this forgetfulness would drive me mad before the remembering!”
Loki puts a protective ward around himself and readies an offensive spell. “Are you certain?”
“Aye!”
Loki stares hard at his brother. “You’re positive?”
Exasperated, Thor growls, “Yes.”
“Banner.”
Thor’s eye flashes. He cries out in pain and collapses, holding his head. “K-keep go-going,” he gasps. “I shall best this…best this yet!” After another scream, he loses all semblance of sanity. Fangs bared, he launches himself at Loki.
Under his breath, Loki mutters, "This is going to be a long night."

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 1

This short story/series is inspired by these fanfics. I'm probably going to be posting one a week, maybe more often; I put this little baby through at least three drafts in a couple hours. I was planning on outlining the whole thing first, then writing/posting closer to New Years, but the weather today was perfect. Chilly, just overcast enough to put me in the mood for something a bit sinister... ;)

I've been wanting to practice writing in 2nd person present for a while now, but the only place I've really seen it (and thus thought it would work in) is in twist-a-plots (AKA choose-your-own-adventure, choose-your-story, etc.). The few twist-a-plot type stories I've tried writing all flopped, and I haven't really touched the POV since.
Then I came across the fanfics and wanted to try something similar. :D
I'm using the fanfics as a sort of launching point. However, I'm going to make changes. For example, Thor is going to be the vampire, "you" are going to be a bit more lore-savvy, and I'm going to be using some of my own characters (mostly from my Tales from a Modern Bard challenges, but who knows others may try to intrude).

Loki and Thor will kind of be based off of Marvel's version. In looks, most definitely, because come on Hiddleson and Hemsworth are perfect in these roles. As for actions...well, I'm just going to see where they go. They may or may not adhere to their Marvel roles/characteristics.

Things might get a tad steamy (cuz vampires), but what little there is will be short--not much longer than a couple sentences--and not very detailed. I don't like reading that stuff, I don't like writing it. :P

There's also going to be some blood, but I also don't like writing gore. I prefer slight hints that allow you to imagine as little/as much as you like.

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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part One

Loki trudges up the steep mountain path. Pelting rain drives the ground to mud beneath him. Scraggly brush and sharp, stunted trees threaten to hasten his stumbling steps into the gawping mouth of the gorge to his right. Thunder echoes through the mountain. Lightning flashes and illuminates the carcasses of unfortunate animals caught on jagged shelves of earth below.
“I’m trying, brother,” he says to the howling sky. “Do be patient.”
He reaches his destination suddenly. A massive castle, set half into the mountainside. There are no doors, only a large archway leading to dank darkness. Black moss and lichen cover old drawings and writings about the archway. With the surety of a mountain lion, Loki stalks into the darkness.
Sibilant, a tenor voice sounds before him. “I was informed of your arrival. Meet me in the courtyard.”
Loki forces himself to breathe evenly, to ignore the thick taste of decay that spreads inside his mouth. As suddenly as he’d come across the castle, so he came to the courtyard. The storm was oddly absent from this place, surrounding the castle walls on all sides, while the moon shone brightly overhead. In the center of the courtyard, sitting on a broken and dusty well, was a man. His marble-colored skin gleamed in the cold light. Fangs protruded from his black-lined lips.
“You are Endymion?” Loki asks.
With a smile, the man inclines his head. “I must thank you for coming. Visitors don’t often come calling.” He stands and beckons for Loki to follow. He heads for another gaping archway. This one is partly shuttered by limp, molding doors.
If Loki is nervous or put off, it doesn’t affect his sure, sauntering stride. He enters the main hall—lit by a wavering bonfire in the center—as if he were entering his own halls. Long tables, benches, unlit chandeliers, and fine silverware are all covered in dust.
Endymion glances back. “Does this remind you of home, Asgardian?” Without waiting for an answer, he turns to a shadow. “Wander my halls at your peril.”
Some time later, the vampire returns. He steps from the dancing shadows behind Loki as if stepping through a doorway.
Loki is unaware of him until he feels the brush of fangs—as cold and sharp as daggers—across his neck. With a curse, Loki leaps to his feet. His twin daggers gleam sickly in the fading firelight.
Lazily, Endymion grins. He proffers a bag that seems to be part of the darkness behind him. “This earth will aid the transition. Now…do you have the body?”
At the callous tone, Loki grits his teeth. He nods and sheaths the daggers.
“It is mostly intact, yes? It will be a terrible bother otherwise.”
“All things considered, yes.”
“You are prepared for the challenges?” Endymion’s tone holds implications that Loki reads easily.
Loki smirks. “I know the risks. What’s more blood on my hands?”
“Then let us begin.”
Outside, the still and clear air above the castle darkens. Like a blanket, the storm covers the castle. The perfect cover for dark deeds.

Lightporter Release Tour!!

I'm excited to take part in C.B. Cook's tour for her newest book, Lightporter! :D
First, here's C.B. Cook on this newest installment to the IDIA series.

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Hullo, friends! I’m C.B. Cook, and I’m so excited for the release of my new superhero novel, Lightporter! It’s the second book in my IDIA series, with Twinepathy being the first, and I’m so thrilled to be sharing it with everyone. Here’s a little bit about the book.

(Light-por-ter)

n. someone who has the ability to manipulate light and can use that ability to teleport

Albany and her twin sister, Brooklyn, have gotten more comfortable in the superhero world. But when Blaze starts acting secretive and weird monsters attack, the girls realize there is more going on that they still don’t know about. Before long, they discover that Blaze is hiding something—or someone. With FOE still hiding in the shadows, the girls must decide who they can trust… before it’s too late.

This book took me so long to write, and I’m so excited that I’m finally able to release it. The book is releasing June 16th, but it’s currently up for preorder for just $0.99 on Amazon. Along with that, the first book, Twinepathy, is now permanently $0.99! So if you haven’t gotten a chance to read it, you definitely should.

About the Author

C.B. Cook is just a girl trying to find out where her King is guiding her, while writing the stories of the people she creates, the worlds she wants to live in, and the adventures she dreams about. Also known as a mysterious creature called an “author.” She's a Christian and a home school graduate dedicated to changing others' lives through the power of the written word.

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My Review:

A fast-paced superhero adventure with a few twists and new faces!

Albany has learned to control herself a bit, and so doesn't completely botch her new mission: find out what's eating at fellow IDIA member Blaze. Questions are raised, a few answers given, secrets revealed, alliances tested, friendships solidified (rather than broken up, per soap opera/dark drama trend)!

Like Twinepathy, Lightporter showcases a unique use of superpowers; even "lame" ones are used to great effect. There are also quite a few powers that are flat-out awesome (I want the powers of a particular new character so badly!).
This story takes a few tropes as well--monster attacks, rogue agents and the like--and adds some fun twists.
I stayed up late to finish this, it was so exciting.

In addition to this amazing batch of superpowers, light mystery, and growing characters, the author somehow bribed Anvil to release a cookie recipe. Can't wait to try it. :D

Tour Schedule

Monday, June 11th

Writefury – Character Interview and Lightporter Review

Dreams and Dragons – Twinepathy and Lightporter Reviews

Light and Shadows – Book Spotlight and Author Interview

Tuesday, June 12th

Reading Anyone – Lightporter Review

Wednesday, June 13th

Home With Hummingbirds – Character Interview and Book Spotlight

Thursday, June 14th

Ashley Bogner – Author Interview

Faith Blum – Book Spotlight

The Page Dreamer (Deborah O’Carroll) – Lightporter Review

Friday, June 15th

Lights And Shadows – Friday 5s: IDIA Edition

Purely By Faith Reviews – Lightporter Review and Book Spotlight

Saturday, June 16th (Release day!)

Marlene Simonette – Lightporter Review and Book Spotlight

Dreams and Dragons – Character Interview

Elven Padawan – Lightporter Review

Fanfic and Fanart: IDIA!

So, C.B. Cook has a blog tour going on right now (I'm scheduled to do a post on Saturday), and with it a fanfic/art contest!

Click here to get all the details!

My fanfic features Finch and Eva in another encounter (idk why but I love these two so much). Originally, I had wanted this to be slightly happier, with the both of them breaking out into song on an ice rink, but it just didn't work out that way... :P

EDIT: Turns out the image just needed to be shrunk a bit. :D
I took the liberty to rearrange a few things (song credits, a couple sentences in the fanfic), so if the post looks different, that's why.

I had a bit of art commissioned by JamesArtVille.

So, here's Finch. Or how I picture him, anyways. The fanfic starts below the picture.
(I made a Pinterest board if you want to see the reference pics I gave to the artist.)

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Light is Breaking

IDIA Fanfic: Finch and Eva

From the kitchen a room away, Finch’s phone blasted metal songs over a set of speakers. He wouldn’t call it “music”, but the lyrics were what he was after right now. He watched the rain spatter against the window, then totally obscure the view of the alley. There was another window, with a view of a small park, but he wanted to brood.

I listen to the words you're saying

Words I'm fighting to believe

It's like I'm living from a distance

When you're out of reach.

I wanna feel it,

When I mean it,

When I say it,

Can you hear me at all?

His apartment was in the ramshackle state of being packed up. He couldn’t even remember where he’d been planning to move, or why. Data, the head of IDIA, had said she would take care of it. Had let him know that he could start unpacking until they figured things out.

He’d started, hoping the sight of favored items would bring a sense of familiarity to the place. The knick-knacks and models and books only served to frustrate him.

His parents had offered to have him move in with them. He couldn’t stand the thought of waking to a house he’d grown up in, to face the constant “oh you used to” and “do you remember”s.

The song finished, and another began playing.

I'm a soldier: wounded so I must give up the fight

There's nothing more for me, lead me away...

Or leave me lying here

He mouthed the last line, closed his eyes, and pressed his head against the cold window pane. Despite the passing of time, the amnesia wasn’t getting any easier to live with.

The next verse of the song began to play.

Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark

Lay right down. Decide not to go on

The music began to swell into a hopeful refrain.

With a sigh, Finch rose and made his way through the maze of boxes.

Then from on high somewhere in the distance

There's a voice that calls, "Remember who you are."

He hovered his finger over the pause button.

"If you lose yourself your courage soon will follow.

So be strong tonight. Remember who you are."

He pressed stop.

A knock at the door.

Finch hadn’t thought he’d been on edge, but the soft sound made him jump. A precarious stack of boxes leaning against the island counter teetered.

Eva’s voice came through the door, muffled. “Mathis? Can I come in?”

He’d forgotten he’d agreed to meet with her. Thus far she’d been the most understanding. Willing to simply talk. Let him decide things, discover things. “Coming.”

He opened the door.

Eva’s dark eyes widened at the sight of him. “Have you slept or eaten recently?”

“No.” Finch shuffled aside to let her come in. “I haven’t been hungry.” The food in the freezer didn’t appeal to him, and he didn’t want to eat out. “And I don’t want to sleep.” He wanted to dream.

Eva picked her way across the entryway to the relatively cleared living room area. After shifting aside the DVD cases of several "Fast and Furious" movies, she sat on the couch.

Finch took suit, coming down heavily and leaning his head back. “Sorry for the mess. I haven’t been able to work up the energy to clean.”

Eva laid a hand on his lap. “Have you thought about what I said?”

That was part of what had kept him up the night before. He nodded, doubtfully. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Then I’ll say it again. I don’t care if we have to start this whole dance at the beginning; I love you.”

Finch smiled. “Is that how you see this? A dance?”

“Yes.”

I'm trying to hold my breath

Let it stay this way

Can't let this moment end

You set off a dream with me

Finch shot a curious glance towards the kitchen. An IDIA agent?

Take my hand

Will you share this with me?

Eva laughed, stood and pulled him up with her. Twined her fingers into his, laid her other hand on his shoulder. “We can start here.”

She walked him through several waltz steps, humming all the while.

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

Never be enough

As they went, Finch felt a small thrill. Instinct moved him a half step ahead of his mind; he remembered how to dance, after a fashion.

A wave of relief washed over him. He started shaking. “Stop,” he gasped.

Eva, alarm plain on her face, helped him back onto the couch. She laid a tentative hand on his arm. “Is it…are you…”

He wanted to spin her in the air and kiss her. Instead, he clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

“Muscle memory,” he managed to say. He swiped his tears away with his thumb. “I didn’t think I’d be this relieved.” Finch licked his lips. “Before…all this…what would I have done? What would I do now?”
Part of him couldn’t believe he was asking. Questions like that were a majority of the reason he was holed up the way he was. Another part trusted Eva. She knew him.

Eva shed tears of her own, darkened the sleeve of her jacket brushing them away. “Sing.”

Never Enough had stopped playing. What could he sing? What song…

At a loss, Finch met Eva’s eyes. There was still a bit of fear, from that first meeting, when he hadn’t remembered her.

With an unsteady warble, he began.

“You could turn a hundred years and never empty all you fears,

“They're pouring out like broken words and broken bones…”

He felt as if he were singing for both Eva and himself. Finishing the verse, he scooted closer, pressed his forehead against hers.

“Hold on love, don't give up,

“Don't close your eyes;

“The light is breaking through the night…”

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Song credits:
So Far Away, by RED
Sound the Bugle, soundtrack from "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron"

Never Enough, specifically the Greatest Showman version (and this male cover version)

Into the Day, by Bebo Norman