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el nunca visto

Posted: Wed Mar 20, 2019 3:55 pm
by Delahada
Wednesday. March 20, 2019
- quince años


Another year has passed, and more. The last I saw of you was in February, and then not again. I should be used to this by now. Being used to the pain doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. And yet, I’ve become exceptionally good at numbing it.

This morning I wake to stillness. The sun reaches over the horizon and spreads its warm fingers through the windows of my domain. There is so much quiet. Madre is still sleeping. She will not rise from her slumber until much later, closer to dusk this year.

The rest of my realm is deep in slumber as well. I’m always the first to wake. They don’t start to stir until long after I do. Perhaps in some ways then I am their sun. A distant star that spreads cold instead of warmth. And they thrive in this world, my world.

There is something different about this year. I can feel it though put no name to it. The lines are a little sharper, the air a little more crisp. Every single cell in my body tingles. As I breathe, in and out, I can feel the borders of my domain stretch and shrink. The edges ebb like ocean tides. I can nearly hear them.

Or, at least, I hear the echo of Cane’s beach miles and miles away. The scent of the sea still clings to his skin no matter how many nights we spend elsewhere. His salt and his fire lure me closer, and I turn to slide my body over his. There’s a hunger in me first thing this morning, and I wake him to help me feed it. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he quite relishes it.

I refuse to shower after, but we do share an actual breakfast. Two hungers satisfied. At least temporarily.

My skin hasn’t stopped buzzing, though.

Walking the garden paths along the roof, I skim my fingers over leaves and branches. They shrivel and crack under my touch, shrinking to dust that peppers the soil. My Dama whispers to me, guiding my hand to this which needs pruned and that which needs plucked. It takes very little effort on my part.

When my Cajun finds me for lunch, he brings me something else as well. He’ll never call it a gift. He knows how celebrating makes me uncomfortable. I can’t help but smile, though, touching the carefully chiseled obsidian edge. Sharp as a razor blade, perhaps more.

“Te amo,” I tell him. I thank him without words.

Madre will be waking soon. I need to prepare for her. Reluctantly, after this time, I shower.

Spring is here, another one without you. I miss you. I always miss you. Dónde estás, mi alma? Espero que estés bien. Te amo también. Siempre. Siempre y siempre.

Re: el nunca visto

Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2019 9:58 pm
by Delahada
Wednesday. March 27, 2019
- spit and scales


My Cajun met my crocodile today.

Gallo has grown quite a lot since my songbird gifted him to me. I’ve lost track of the number of years. Three, I think. However long it’s been does not seem to matter. Time has no meaning here. A day could be a decade. He’s grown enough to think and speak, question and wonder, shift as much as swim.

He climbed up the ladder from the basement while we were fixing breakfast. Probably the scent of bacon lured him. That and the sunlight he hasn’t seen much of since I took him in.

Cane dropped the frying pan when he spotted him standing at the windows.

Amant?” he asked me. “Why is there a naked man in your living room?”

“Trying on a man’s skin,” I answered.

Of course, my Cajun did not understand. It took me a minute to remember. The way I think is different from so many others. And I don’t think I ever told him about my crocodile, beyond taking him down and setting him loose in the underground rivers beneath Matadero.

“Oh,” I said, when it occurred to me -- especially when I realized Cane was staring at me, gawking expectantly for further explanation. “Canaan. This is Gallo,” I said, gesturing to the bare backside of the man standing in my living room.

At the sound of his name, Gallo turned to face us and let the sun warm his spine. He is tall now, all muscle and beard in human form, a man grown much like I was. What is age but a concept of time? And time has no meaning.

“Gallo,” Cane repeated dully. And then it clicked. “Gallo? The ‘gator Aoife gave you a couple years ago?”

“Crocodile,” I corrected him gently. Not that the man on the other side of the kitchen island seemed to take offense. Gallo merely scratched his beard, grunted, and then pointed at the small pool of grease and scattered bacon on the floor. “Sí, you may have some,” I told the creature.

Cane backed up as Gallo stepped forward and knelt down. He continued gawking while the naked man scooped up bacon with his bare hands and ate from the floor. After a moment of stunned disbelief, my Cajun shook his head and turned to stomp up the stairs, grumbling something about getting the man some damn clothes. I tried not to smile.

“And get him a plate!” my Cajun shouted from above. This time I couldn’t help but snicker.

“S’a plate?” Gallo asked, mouth full of bacon. I handed him one by way of explanation. I can’t say I was exactly surprised that he tried to take a bite out of it as well.

We did dress him. He fit Cane’s clothes better than my own. My Cajun insisted on trimming his hair and his beard so that he looked a little less wild, too. Gallo’s only complaint was that, as he said, “Man hair itches.” I don’t think he much minded being groomed.

Now that the weather is getting warmer, I suspect he will come upstairs more. I’ve tasked Dead Cat with guiding him through the tunnels so he can find his way around better. There are many rocks along the river I think that he’ll enjoy. By giving him freedom to explore the grounds I hope that there will be less surprise visits to my living room. Not that he’s unwelcome there, but I think my Cajun finds his presence unsettling.

Re: el nunca visto

Posted: Mon Apr 15, 2019 5:03 pm
by Delahada
Monday. April 15, 2019
- emergency


“There are just some times when the wounds are a rubbed a little raw.”

Elessaria’s words have haunted me for days. Sometimes people say things that cut too close to the core. They stick with me. I think I’ll shake them for a couple of days, especially when I’m drowning in distractions -- my poor Cajun; he tries. Then the quiet comes and it all comes flooding back over me.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out this time. I’m pretty sure the sun had risen last I checked. I barely remember what I was doing. I think I showered. I must have eaten. Cane left for work and then…

Time escaped me.

I’m startled awake by a bearded figure looming over me.

“Hey,” he says gruffly. I know that voice. It takes a little longer for my vision to clear and see him completely. Tall and broad and scruffy. Cane cut his hair but it still hangs in his face. I’m not sure he’s figured out how to use a comb on his own yet. “You okay, boss?”

“Gallo.” I can barely hear my own voice. No doubt he strains to hear me as well. Clearing my throat, I jam an elbow against the couch cushion beneath me and sit up slowly, groaning. “What day is it?”

I should have known better than to ask him. He looks at me blankly and scratches his beard. Time is a concept he hasn’t mastered any better than a comb. So I try something else.

“Phone?”

He rises. I forgot how tall he is. And only now I realize he had been sitting on the coffee table. I push myself even more upright as he moves to the left and heads into the kitchen. After scrubbing my hands over my face I look out the windows. The sun is no longer pouring in through the glass, which means it must be after noon now.

Gallo returns, handing me my phone. I must have left it on the kitchen island after breakfast. The lock screen tells me it’s Monday, about half past three. A rush of relief escapes my lungs. I didn’t lose a whole day, not even half of one. That’s better than some days.

He sits back down on the edge of the coffee table across from me and stares.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nila needs clothes,” he tells me. Right to the point. I like that about him.

“Who the fuck is Nila?” There’s something familiar about that name but I just can’t quite grasp it.

Gallo grumbles a sigh and says, “Princess.”

“Oh.” Then it clicks. Along with another thing. Before long there’s a domino effect of connections going off in my head. Surprise washes over me and I sit up straighter. “Oh.” I can feel the lift of my brows. I look slowly around the room. Gallo nods, his eyes focused on a spot behind me, and I twist on the sofa to look. I can just barely see a shock of white hair and pale skin peeking around the door frame of the bathroom.

We stare at each other, her through the one eye I can see and my own eyes wide. I hadn’t expected this.

“Huh!” With an abrupt shake of my head I twist back to regard Gallo. I’m pretty sure she’s not going to appreciate me ogling her bare shoulder, which is all of her I can see without getting up.

Gallo continues to stare at me, waiting expectantly.

“Shit,” I tell my crocodile. “I don’t have women’s clothes.” I doubt there are any in Rekah’s room; she hardly ever wears any. I rack my brain. Who can I call? I don’t think she’ll fit anything my songbird owns. There’s only one other woman who comes to mind. Even though she won’t fit her clothes either, it’s probably my best solution.

“I know,” I tell Gallo, who is still only staring at me. Waiting.

I fucking hate making phone calls, but this is probably an emergency. The phone seems to ring forever. I’m starting to wonder if I have the right number in my contacts. Then she answers. She sounds breathless. Panicked, even.

“Where do you need me? Is everything okay? Who’s hurt?”

“Uh.” Honestly, I’m not surprised she thinks armageddon is happening. I never call people. “No. It’s none of those things. Listen, I need some clothes.”

“Oh.” She is silent for a moment too long. “Wait, what?”

“Clothes,” I repeat. “Women’s clothes. I don’t have any and I need some.”

“Um… okay.”

Then I realize there’s misconception happening and I groan. “Not for me! There’s a girl here and she needs some clothes.”

“Hey, I wasn’t gonna judge! Though, I’m not sure if you could fit into my hot pants to be honest so it’s probably better it’s for someone else. What do you need?”

It’s hard not to grin. She can probably hear it in my voice, even though I try to wash it out with seriousness. I even clear my throat. Gallo is still staring. I’m not sure he even knows what funny is.

“I don’t think she’ll be able to fit in your hot pants either, actually. Do you have anything for taller women?”

“Yeah, I do own some longer dresses. A few. At least one. And I can raid Sapphire’s closet too. Kid has a few inches on me. You need them now?”

“That would be great.” Yes, to everything. I can’t check the time on my phone since I’m talking on it. I turn to look back at the bathroom. She’s still peering at me through her hair. “Yeah. Probably sooner rather than later.”

“Kay. I’ll go grab some stuff now and be over in a little while.” She pauses and is clearly smirking when she asks, “Sure you don’t want me to bring a pair of hot pants for you? Maybe a cute mini dress?”

If only she could hear me rolling my eyes through the phone. “Thank you, Jewell. See you soon.” I end the call before she can say anything else. I do owe her though.

I’ll start by making some coffee. We could all probably use some, with some liquor in it.


( With special thanks to Jewell Ravenlock for bit part assist. )

Re: el nunca visto

Posted: Sat Aug 24, 2019 5:04 pm
by Delahada
Saturday. August 24, 2019
- libidinous


I’ve been more restless than usual, and horny too. Thank god for an abundance of lovers. One I haven’t seen in a while. It’s been too long. Longer than before I saw him last, which has been years now. It’s always years now. I’ve started to expect never to see him again. It’s better that way.

My Cajun does all he can to keep me from dwelling on the lack of him. And it is enough, more than enough. I’m not sure I would have survived without him all this time. The madness that comes at times would have devoured me by now, long ago. I am grateful for him every day. And with him it is every day. It’s better this way.

Rhydin has been so quiet lately. Places that were once overflowing with activity are now mostly empty, almost abandoned. Is this how time works? Is this what it means? Eventually it all comes to a stand still like it is in the between places? Maybe it’s spreading. I’ll know if I ever see the rain falling up instead of down like I showed Sin once.

The people I know have gone quiet too. We haven’t seen much of Sabine since she married. Rekah pops up in short bursts every once in a great while. Even the annoying ones I don’t care for like that damn mouthy wolf we killed, and who was brought back by that stupid girl, have disappeared. They’ve moved on. Gone elsewhere like the people I knew even long before that.

Everyone goes. Most everyone. Only so very few stay, the really loyal ones like my Cajun. My python and my crocodile. My once in a while demon too. I try not to let too many in anymore. It’s better that way.

But I can’t help myself. I’m still collecting strays.

Maybe this one isn’t so much a stray. He has a home of his own. I saw it with my very own eyes. The whole place had the taste of him on the air, and someone with very much the same flavor, a close relative of some kind. I didn’t linger long to find out more.

He’s a cunning little shit. Put his number in my phone bold as you please. Bold, but not annoying about it like most others who have tried. I’ve had him three times now, four if you count fooling around in the park. And he keeps coming back for more. He doesn’t call me, but he finds me. Clever enough to know where to look. I like him.

I have a weakness for soft boys. Soft, but not fragile. He’s soft, and that worries me. I could break him, undo him. It would be best if I were to scare him away, but I don’t want to do that. I think I want to keep him. That’s what worries me most of all.

I shouldn’t keep indulging. I shouldn’t encourage him. It would be better that way.

Better, but no fun at all.

Re: el nunca visto

Posted: Mon Sep 30, 2019 9:29 pm
by Delahada
Monday. September 30, 2019
- aumento


Last night was not nearly as bloody as I would have liked. The duels have gone soft. Nobody puts enough violence into it anymore. I even wore next to nothing hoping someone would cut me. I fought only ghosts and little girls. Nobody did. At least not until afterward, when I was done and went home with my Cajun. He never disappoints.

It’s the first time I’ve slept since the season began. Seven days. One week. I’ve gone longer before. This wasn’t bad at all. I wasn’t even tempted to make a meal of my boy, as I’d feared, and I’ve had him many times this past week. He’s a smart one. I could, I told him. I know I didn’t warn him very clearly but he understood. When he finally pieced together the puzzle of my words to see the truth of me, he cried, but he asked me to keep him. This surprised me.

Even now, I asked. Even knowing?

Even now, he said. Even knowing.

So I will keep him, as I’ve wanted to since the beginning. He’s extraordinary. And mine.

I dreamed of blood. Of course I did. I dreamed of blood and woke up wondering if he tastes it on my lips when I kiss him. Will he learn to like the taste the way I do clove and tequila, menthol and bourbon? Or did he already like the taste before? He must to enjoy kissing me so.

I woke up to echoes and ocean waves and the warmth of my Cajun’s skin. I woke up peaceful, but...

My skin tingles constantly with the hum of Autumn. Sleep can’t cure this. I feel it in my blood and in my bones. In every cell of me. My awareness is sharper and I don’t feel buried under the weight of it anymore, but there’s just so much.

What do I do with it all?

Re: el nunca visto

Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2020 2:08 pm
by Delahada
Monday. April 27, 2020.
- here there be dragons


“Well, this is a mess.”

The early morning light makes even rotting scales sparkle, especially in the water, which is murky and tainted with the thick flavor of blood. Of course I was drawn here. Death always draws my attention. The people of this city should be grateful to have me, always cleaning up after them.

Who. Did. This?

Blood in the water attracted him too. Particularly this blood. The blood of kin. My crocodile is bristling with a rage, furiously transformed in that between stage that crosses man with beast. He’s quite magnificent this way. Ready to plunge his claws and teeth into some unsuspecting fool. I’ll have to take him hunting to help dull the edge a little, but it’s not going to satisfy him completely.

“I don’t know,” I tell him.

A rattling sound thunders up from his chest, and he hisses, guttural and loud. His long tail slices and slashes through the water.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Can’t you See?”

“No. There’s too much water.”

Whoever did this was fortunate and should be grateful for that as well. Rain washes away the memories. This flooding is much the same. My boots are drowning in it. I would drown in it, and see nothing at all. There are limits to my power. I can’t even claim this one, not until the waters subside. Well, I suppose I could pick it up.

“When I find out who did this…” A snapping snarl cuts off my crocodile’s words.

I only hum an acknowledging noise. Yes. His rage is valid. Such senseless slaughter. There’s a message here, though. I can’t tell him that. He’s beyond reason with his thirst for justice.

“Come,” I tell him, turning from the carcass. There’s no point in staying here. Lingering will only make him angrier.

His claws flex and stretch. I see him reaching out of the corner of my eye as I walk away. He changes his mind about gathering up the corpse. I hear him hissing and grumbling as he slithers along behind me to follow.

We wind our way into a sewer entrance and down, deep down to take the under roads toward Dockside. It’ll make him feel a little better, I think, to hunt some men.


( In response to Spring Flooding. See also: Dealing with Spring Flooding. )