> *The choice is yours ... You have it, with my thanks ...*

I hesitated for a moment.  Aye, indeed I had always believed that I was
nothing more than someone else's dream.  Years ago I had stumbled into
Arcadia from a door in another world...a world that I could no longer
find and no other patron had ever crossed.

Rhioban the librarian had no book, the wandering Chance had never seen it,
the Magician John Taney knew of no such place.

5 years in this House and I'd never left by the front door.  I was afraid,
afraid that if I opened that door I would vanish back into the dreaming.  So
I came and went by the service entrance or my bedroom window.

I took the coin, unsure if I would spend it.

"Ravenlord, how do I know that I wouldn't meet oblivion?"

I drank a glass of cool water.

"And, I..I.."  I looked away from the RavenLord's eyes in shame, "I'm afraid
to travel alone."




W.

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, "William Fielder"
<bridgewalker@e...> wrote:
>  I handed the drink to the Ravenlord.  "Of course you
>  may
>  tell me something.  You have my full attention."


The Ravenlord accepted the black orchid from Winter.  He looked
deeply into the drink that swirled within the living goblet.  It did
this on its own, for the substance was like midnight on a moonless
night; it flowed and turned with hundreds of tiny, brilliant stars.
The Ravenlord lifted it and took a sip, then smiled.

*Still rich with imagination ...* he mused.  The Ravenlord turned his
burning gaze back to Winter who, true to his word, had his attention
focused solely on the Nightmare monarch.  The Ravenlord set the
orchid down on the bar, his thin hands clasped around the stem.
Winter felt the Ravenlord's hollow voice coalesce within the
darker
reaches of his mind.

*Some time ago, though not long but some reckoning, you thanked me
for helping you with a dream scroll ... Your gratitude was selfless
and true ... It is a rare thing for Nightmare to receive
gratitude ... We wish to show our appreciation ...*

Here, the Ravenlord reached into the shadows that formed his cloak
and withdrew two shining coins.  One of these, golden in color, he
laid upon the bar.

*That is for the drink ...* he said.  The other coin – this one a
shimmering silver – was dancing across, between and under his
pale
fingers.

*This ...* the Ravenlord nodded to the silver coin, *... is for
you ... I recall that you were wont to wonder if you were real, or a
dream, and that you held the same wonder for the realm from where you
wandered ...*

The Ravenlord let the coin flip up onto his fingertip.  It spun
there, on its end.  He continued to speak in Winter's mind.

*I know much in the ways of dreams ... I know that you have made your
peace and home in Arcadia, and you will always find your way to the
House ... However, should you venture out to Rogue Street, which runs
behind the House, you will find stairs leading down to a subterranean
way station ... A locomotive stops there from time to time ...
Usually, in time when you need it to do so ... This coin will gain
you passage on that train ... It travels in hidden ways ... Dream
ways ... Should you board it, and let it take you where it will, you
will have your answer ... If you want to know, here is the means ...*

The coin rolled down into the flat of the Ravenlord's upturned
palm.
It spun once, and lay still.  He held it forth to Winter, and spoke
again.

*The choice is yours ... You have it, with my thanks ...*


Poe

> > *Winter, may I have a draught of my usual
> libation?*
> > asked the
> > Ravenlord.  *I feel that you will find it to be
> the
> > last ... I
> > don't want you to order more ... I feel there will
> > be no
> > need ...*  He paused, then added *Also, may I tell
> > you something?*
>
  I nodded my head slowly and opened a small, wooden
  cabinet sitting atop the backbar.  Inside the
  cabinet
  was a ruby decanter.

  "The last, you say?  Then allow me to serve it in
  a different 'glass',"  I said quietly to the
  Ravenlord.
  He usually drank this wine from a goblet crafted
  from
  a lily, since it required a living vessel.  For this
  special occasion, however...a black orchid.

  I handed the drink to the Ravenlord.  "Of course you
  may
  tell me something.  You have my full attention."


  W.

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, "Jennifer Hallam"
<jennifer@h...> wrote:
>  For auld lang syne, my dear,
> For auld lang syne.
> We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
> For auld lang syne."
--------------------------------------------------------

The Ravenlord halted his movement up the stairs and cocked his head
to the side.

*Do you hear that?* he asked John, who had been following the
Nightmare to Zophiel's study.  John paused and listened.

"Sounds like `Auld Lang Syne'," he replied.

*Indeed ...* the Ravenlord whispered.  A curious expression flickered
across his face.  *John, you must excuse me ... My business with the
angel will have to wait ... If you wish, please continue without
me ...*  Without another word the Ravenlord slid through a lingering
shadow, leaving John alone on the stairs with a confused bearing.

Moments later, the Ravenlord emerged from a shadow beside the Tarot
Tapestry, much to the shock of the revelers there.  Sebastian and
Alice jumped back through Cassandra – who quickly floated away
from
the Nightmare's sudden arrival – while Anpu took a slow,
cautious
step away from the Ravenlord.  Though his face never belied what was
in his soul, Anpu shared the unease that was clear on the expressions
of his companions.  The Ravenlord took in the scene, leveling is
burning eye on each in their turn, at the last coming to rest on the
cake with three burning candles.

*What is this here?*  The Ravenlord spoke to each of them in the dark
recesses of their minds.

Anpu answered, "That is a cake."

"We're celebrating our anniversary," cut in Cassandra,
feeling the
electric sensation of irritation from the Ravenlord.  He turned to
regard the ghost.

*Anniversary?* came the question.

"The Goth House.  `Tis the third anniversary of its
existence, it is,
as we're knowin' it," said Cassandra.  The Ravenlord
looked back to
the small cake.

*Anniversary ...* he whispered to himself, staring at the dancing
candle flames.  Several silent minutes passed this way, as each of
the revelers – save Anpu – took turns stealing furtive
glances at one
another.  Finally, the Ravenlord turned, slid past them, and flowed
with his shadows through the door that led to the main hall.
Sebastian shook his head.

"I will never get used to him," he whispered, with a shudder.
  Alice
nodded in agreement.  Cassandra glided to Anpu, who had been staring
at the space where the Ravenlord had been.

"Did you see it?" Anpu whispered to her.

"See what?"

"The Ravenlord was standing in front of the Tapestry."

Cassandra looked to the Tarot Tapestry.  It was dark, showing no
image.

"No, I saw nothing," Cassandra replied.  Anpu turned to her,
and she
floated a space back, hand at her mouth.  His face held his usual
stoic expression, but his eyes revealed that he had seen a vision of
utter, indescribable horror.

"Thank whatever gods you pray to that you did not," he
whispered.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Within the main hall, Winter looked up from his inventory to see the
Ravenlord seated at the end of the Altar Bar.  He put down his
parchment and quill and made his way to the Nightmare.  The Ravenlord
stared down at the polished wood of the bar for a long time, the
red glow of his eye reflecting back on his ghostly face.  Then he
lifted his gaze to meet the even and patient eyes of the frosty
bartender.

*Winter, may I have a draught of my usual libation?* asked the
Ravenlord.  *I feel that you will find it to be the last ... I
don't want you to order more ... I feel there will be no
need ...*  He paused, then added *Also, may I tell you something?*


Poe

It had been so quiet in The Goth House for the past year.
The day went virtually unnoticed, but not by all.
Cassandra, Sebastian, Anpu and Alice gathered in the cloak-room under the
Tarot Tapestry.
On the table was a small cake with three candles in it.
In the light of the candles, they sang:

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

  For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne."


Jennifer, Closet Extrovert
"Tell no lies.
That way, there's less to keep track of."
-Indian Larry

"Hello, Spy." Came a voice.
    But, at first, Zophiel did not hear it. The half-fallen angel had
lost himself in the armor of thought for thought's sake. The
words came again. The room in which Zophiel found himself
was rather spartan… and yet, familiar.
    "Do you know where you are, Spy?"
    "The Secret!" exclaimed God's Spy. "Are you supposed to be
here?"
    "Today? Yes. Are you?" said Raziel as he walked, unobstructed
by décor, to the center of the room. Zophiel stood slowly,
wondering to what extent he might need to defend himself. When
no attack came, he glanced around the room and then
questioningly at the visitor.
    "Recognize it?" asked Raziel.
    "That's a strange question, Secret. Of course, I do. This is my
study… before I opened the House. But why show it to me?"
    "It seems you've forgotten something." Raziel smiled and
folded his arms in a relaxed though guarded manner.
    "You've always delighted in forgetfulness."
    "Don't you know why, Spy?"
    "Why don't you tell me. This is my house."
    "Yes… but as a gift. Each forgotten thought, even the
misremembered, becomes the best kind of secret."
Zophiel was now certain that self-defense was called for but the
appropriate weapons were not in the study. Raziel, still smiling,
continued to lecture.
    "Those things one forgets about oneself become secrets to the
self – And you've got quite a few of such losses."
    The half-fallen angel was stunned. Never before had Raziel
been so forthcoming and based solely on this new revelation,
Zophiel knew he'd be more prepared for their next meeting. Now,
Zophiel smiled.
    "And what is the payment I owe you, Secret?"
    "Ironically, I must remind you of another thing you've lost." As
Raziel spoke, the clutter of the study began to reappear. "You
have – out of all angelkind – Free Will, yes?"
    "So they say."
    "A marvelous gift but have you never considered why?"
Zophiel moved to his desk and placed a hand on the papers of
work. An eyebrow rose quizzically and he turned back to face his
visitor. "For my part in the War."
    At this, Raziel laughed openly. "Oh, Spy – you played no part in
the War. The truth is that I'd forgotten something during all of
that… forgotten to include you. No, Spy. Your gift of Free Will is
neither curse nor punishment. But it does require one thing."
    Zophiel again asked silently for further information from the
Secret of God and the visiting angel's smile abruptly vanished.
    "Free Will does not allow you to ignore having to choose. It
demands that you make a choice… at least, from time to time."
    "Have you finished?"
    "For now… I suspect so."
    "Then leave my study."
Raziel laughed again. "That's the same puzzle facing you right
now, Spy. And the answer to my initial question."

To the sound of the ensuing rumble, the Ravenlord muttered:

*I do not envy it ... Shall we proceed to the angel's study?*

The Ravenlord moved off.  John arched an eyebrow, shrugged, and
followed the Nightmare.  As they moved up the stairs, a loud crash
echoed down the through the House to them.  John felt the odd,
shifting sensation again, like he felt in the presence of the Scarlet
One.  The Ravenlord didn't appear to notice, as he continued to
flow
up the stairs.  John was going to mention it, but his eldritch
companion was set on his course, and he let the thought slip away.

Deeper in the house, an enraged Rhio chased the Scarlet One down the
hall that led to the great library of the House, hurling whatever she
could get her hands on at its darting form.  The Scarlet One dodged
through the air, a mad grin stretched across its face.  Rhio reached
up and grabbed a corner of reality, turned the page, and reappeared
at the entrance to the library, right in front of the speeding
Scarlet One.  Rhio couldn't suppress her grin when she saw the
Scarlet One's expression shift from manic glee to shock and
surprise
as, with cat-like skill, she snatched it right out of the air.  The
library doors swung-to behind Rhio as she held the Scarlet One by its
arms, its feet kicking wildly.

"Gotcha," she hissed, eyes sparkling like she had just caught
a
tasty, scarlet canary.  But then, the Scarlet One's own Cheshire
Cat
grin spread wide across its face, so much that Rhio thought it would
split its head in two -- and that was a pleasant thought, to her.

That thought was lost in the next moment as the Scarlet One almost
sang in reply, "My thoughts, exactly."

Rhio felt herself lift from the floor.  She tried to release her grip
on the Scarlet One, but could not.  She looked and saw that bands of
coursing, black energy held her hands fast to the rising Scarlet
One.  With a jerk, it shot forward with frightening acceleration,
taking Rhio with it into the library doors.  The doors exploded with
the sound and substance of shattered crystal; this is what echoed
through the House.  The Scarlet One dropped the stunned Rhio as it
crossed the threshold.  Her wind was knocked out of her as she hit
the floor with a solid thud.  Then the sickening, shifting out-of-
phase sensation sliced through her, and the world went black.

After a time, the spinning in her head subsided enough for Rhio to
roll over onto her stomach and push herself up.  She realized that
she might have moved too soon as the room took another sudden,
violent turn, and she fought an urge to void the contents of her
stomach.  She rested her head on the cold stone, and moments passed
before Rhio assured herself that she should be able to move without
retching.  Taking note that nothing seemed to be broken, save the
library doors, she steadied herself enough to rise up to a kneeling
crouch.  She looked around, and what she saw almost made her loose
her balance again.

She looked through the shattered threshold to the hall beyond, but it
was not the hall she knew.  There were more shadows than she
remembered, and these shadows moved with a will of their own.  They
clung and writhed along the walls; they stretched and shuddered from
the lanterns.  The sounds their slither made called up sensations of
harrowing tears and frightened screams in Rhio's mind.  Disquiet
filled her.  The shadows roiled closer to the gaping entrance to the
library, and Rhio saw the teeth -- large, fierce teeth that flashed
like icicles in the winter moon.  Another memory stirred in Rhio, a
voice ... the Ravenlord's voice.  She remembered something he
said
once:

*These shadows have teeth ...*

These shadows do, she thought, and they looked hungry.  Rhio stood,
still somewhat unsteady, and backed away from the door.  The shadows
seemed content to lurk at the threshold for the moment.  She felt she
should ward the entrance, just in case.  Leaning against a bookcase
for support, she tried to summon up a barrier ... but nothing
happened.  She tried again, stretching her feelings out to the magic
of the library -- and again, nothing.  Her disquiet deepened as she
realized that she did not feel the library, that she was separated
from its spirit.

She looked around, and saw that the library itself was changed.
Everything seemed washed in a sickly, green hue.  The bookcases
appeared warped -- stretched in some places, broken off in others,
with their contents spilling onto the floor.  More shadows were here,
and these slid along the shelves like huge, tenebrous serpents.  They
twisted and vanished round the corners of the cases, penetrating
deeper into the maze of stacks.  These paid no attention to Rhio.
Then there was the ever-present music, sounding like someone had
drowned chamber musicians who -- unaware of their watery demise --
continued with submersed melody.

She had to force herself to breathe slower, to focus, to center.  She
had to find out what happened.  She had to find out what the Scarlet
One had done to her, and the library.  And then ...

"I'm going to kill that little fucker," she whispered.

As though on cue, she heard something else in the distance --
something that sounded like someone humming.  Rhio's ears
twitched,
and she set off in the direction of the sound.  Her eyes almost
glowed with a feral, icy-green light.  Though she wasn't
connected to
the library, she had other skills.  She could still hunt.

Quickly and quietly, Rhio moved deeper into the stacks, stealing past
the shadows.  She sniffed the air, and took another path.  The
humming grew louder.  She was close to her quarry.  As she listened,
she realized that the Scarlet One was singing now -- singing the
names of titles and authors.  It had reached the verse that contained
authors whose names began with the letter "M", and as Rhio
spun
around the corner, it reached a crescendo with ...

"Michael Moorcock!" the Scarlet One exclaimed.  It pulled a
book from
the sweeping shelf and turned to face Rhio, who was now stalking
towards the floating, red-robed figure.  She was taking her time.
She wasn't going to underestimate it again.  "Ah," it
continued,
smiling, "you've come to.  Lovely.  I was beginning to
worry."

"You should worry," growled Rhio, noting that it had floated
to a
height just out of her reach.  She considered that it could be toying
with her, but Rhio was betting the Scarlet One didn't know how
high
she could jump.  She stopped just short of beneath it.

"What have you done to my library, and me?" Rhio demanded.

"One is as much the same the other," it replied, musically.
"In
truth, I needed you to complete the task.  My thanks."

It had just begun to float off when Rhio pounced.  She caught it by
the ankles, and was about to sink her nails -- now looking much like
cat's-claws -- into the Scarlet One, when she was buffeted about
the
head and body by dozens of hard-bound volumes.  The books were
flapping about her like mad birds, and in trying to shield herself
from the attack, she lost her grip on the Scarlet One and fell to the
floor.  She looked up to see the errant books swirl over her head,
and then spin back into their respective homes on the shelves.  The
Scarlet One was grinning, again.

"I always liked that trick when you did it," it said.  Rhio
just
glared at it with eyes that would have burnt it to ash if they
could.  "So," it continued, "you want to know what has
happened?"
Rhio held her angry gaze on it, but she nodded.  "Very well, I
will
give you this much, but this much you should know.  We are in the
Shadowlands, the realm of Nightmare, as the House appears there.  I
needed you in the library to complete the shift, and I needed you out
of the way for what is to come."

Thoughts spun through Rhio's mind.  The Shadowlands?  She was in
the
Ravenlord's realm?  How?  Why?

"Out of the way for what?" Rhio nearly shouted, her rage
building
again.

"For the battle, of course," the Scarlet One said.  It turned
its
attention to the book in its hands.  It opened the book and began to
rifle through the pages, jade eyes flicking over the text.  Rhio read
the title on the book's cover, and that feeling of disquiet sank
in
again.  The Scarlet One was paging through Moorcock's
novel, "Stormbringer."  She looked up to see the Scarlet One
staring
at her again.

"One of the things so magical about books," it mused, "is
what you
take with you when you've finished them."  To punctuate the
statement, it drove its hand into the pages.  Flames exploded from
the book's center, and Rhio backed away, covering her face.  The
Scarlet One pulled its hand back from the book and let it drop,
smoldering, to the floor.  What it now held made Rhio take another
step back, and the disquiet she felt flooded into full-blown horror.

The Scarlet One held a large, black sword that darkened all near it.
The ruby-red runes etched into the blade glowed and pulsed like a
heartbeat.  A soft, yet ravenous moaning emanated from the blade.

"This should do the trick," the Scarlet One said.
"You'll have to
find your own way back to Arcadia, and I fear it won't be an easy
trek."  It started grinning again.  "You could try to
turn-the-page,
but you won't like how it falls.  You'll like what's on
the other
side even less."

Rhio could taste the loathing for the Scarlet One in the back of her
throat.  "Ravenlord will know where I am.  He'll know what
you've
done.  I know he will."

The Scarlet One cocked its head to the side and said, lightly,
"Will
he, now?  I feel he will see, as I will see.  Haven't you figured
that out, yet?  Good hunting!"

It vanished with the soul-devouring blade, and Rhio could hear an
echo of its voice, whispering, "Mind you, those shadows won't
settle
on the threshold forever."


Poe

--- ravnlord <ravnlord@...> wrote:
> The Ravenlord mirrored John's smile as he replied, *I
> will show you
> where I left him last ...*  He turned to Rhiobhan and
> asked, *Would
> you like to accompany us, beloved?*

Rhio stood up, stretched in a way that made several of the
males in the room think of a large predatory cat, and
smiled.

"Of course my love!" Then she stopped, looked startled, and
then pissed.

"Excuse me darlin, someone is fucking around in my library
and I need to go open a can of woop-ass!" Then she
disappeared, and shortly thereafter the sound of large
things being thrown at something else filtered down the
stairwell.

^*^Rhio^*^

=====
According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
abundance wherever order is being sought. It always defeats order, because it is
better organized. - Terry Pratchett - 'Interesting Times'

Check out my neato keen new website!!!!  http://www.morriganstears.com

New episode of Mope Opera coming soon...I swear!!!!

__________________________________
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SBC Yahoo! DSL - Now only $29.95 per month!
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--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, "John Taney" <anomoly42@a...>
wrote:
> John stood and streatched.
> "Well my friend; wherever he is it is not here."
> Sitting back down he set down his book and looked at the couple
> accross from him.
> "Shall we relax more or are you up for an investigation?"
> A smile slowlly crept accross his face and a familiar twinkle stood
> in his eye as he awaited a new adventure.


The Ravenlord mirrored John's smile as he replied, *I will show you
where I left him last ...*  He turned to Rhiobhan and asked, *Would
you like to accompany us, beloved?*
--------------------------------------------------------------------

In the study, the raven Munnin maintained a perch on the angel's
bookcase while his companion, Huggin, had settled on the skull
adorning Zophiel's large desk.  Huggin tapped on the pallid dome of
the skull with his beak.  The rhythm was constant, and persistent.

In Zophiel's chair, the Scarlet One spun with impatience.

"This is getting dull," it remarked to the All-Father's ravens.  It
lifted away from the spinning chair and floated to the broken
doorway.  As it glided through the portal, it turned back to the dark
pair and said, grinning, "I'm of a mood for mischief.  If you need
me, I'll be in the library."

The ravens broke their focus to give a quick look to one another.
Then Munnin returned to his watch, and Huggin returned to his
persistence.


Poe

> Upstairs, two ravens glided through the open door to Zophiel's
> study.  Settling upon a bookcase, the brooding pair watched the
> figure of the latest arrival within "The Persistence of Memory".
>
> And they waited ...
>
>
> Poe
_____________________________________________________________________

John stood and streatched.
"Well my friend; wherever he is it is not here."
Sitting back down he set down his book and looked at the couple
accross from him.
"Shall we relax more or are you up for an investigation?"
A smile slowlly crept accross his face and a familiar twinkle stood
in his eye as he awaited a new adventure.

John

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, "John Taney" <anomoly42@a...>
wrote:
> "Speaking of our benefactor; has anyone seen hide nor down of him
> lately?"

The Ravenlord turned his burning eye on John, and replied, *Hide,
yes ... Mind and spirit are hidden further ... Or so it would
seem ...*

Upstairs, two ravens glided through the open door to Zophiel's
study.  Settling upon a bookcase, the brooding pair watched the
figure of the latest arrival within "The Persistence of Memory".

And they waited ...


Poe

> The Ravenlord's smile widened as he replied, *Motivation for
> Zophiel ... Or, so I should hope ...*
>
> The Ravenlord nodded to the ravens, and they took wing up into the
> dark reaches of the House.  As he lowered his head, he kissed
> Rhiobhan on her forehead.
>
> *Perhaps it won't be much longer ...* he whispered.
>
>
> Poe
_____________________________________________________________________

John reached up and caught a jet feather as it floated down to earth
without taking his eyes from the book in which he was immersed.
Using the feather as a bookmark he set it down and looked at the
snuggly couple accross the booth.

"Speaking of our benefactor; has anyone seen hide nor down of him
lately?"

John

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, Bantrobel <bantrobel@y...> wrote:
> Rhio poked the RavenLord and gestured upwards.
>
> "So, what's with Huninn and Munnin up there, eh?"
>
> A few feathers floated down and settled on her hair, which
> she brushed off and put on the table.

The Ravenlord's smile widened as he replied, *Motivation for
Zophiel ... Or, so I should hope ...*

The Ravenlord nodded to the ravens, and they took wing up into the
dark reaches of the House.  As he lowered his head, he kissed
Rhiobhan on her forehead.

*Perhaps it won't be much longer ...* he whispered.


Poe

--- ravnlord <ravnlord@...> wrote:
> Perched over them were two more ravens, both of a size
> and bearing
> greater than Berenice, herself.  The other birds flocked
> in the
> rafters were doing their best to shift away from the new
> arrivals
> with as little notice as possible.
>
> John and Rhiobhan were taken aback by the familiar
> feeling these
> harbingers evoked in them.
>
> A knowing smile spread across the Ravenlord's face.

Rhio poked the RavenLord and gestured upwards.

"So, what's with Huninn and Munnin up there, eh?"

A few feathers floated down and settled on her hair, which
she brushed off and put on the table.

^*^Rhio^*^

>
> Poe
>
>


=====
According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
abundance wherever order is being sought. It always defeats order, because it is
better organized. - Terry Pratchett - 'Interesting Times'

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--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, Bantrobel <bantrobel@y...> wrote:
> When the song was done she led him back to John's booth,
> made him sit down, then curled up on his lap, or his
> suggestion of a lap, nonchalantly wrapped her arm around
> his shoulders, and resumed drinking her coffee with the air
> of a cat that just shredded it's owners favorite slippers.

Appropriate to Rhiobhan's posture and air, the Ravenlord slid his
thin fingers into her blue locks and scratched lightly behind her
ear.  Rhiobhan leaned into him, a contented purr escaping her lips.

Just then, a large raven swooped down and lighted atop the seat of
the booth where the couple lounged.  It's eyes held a familiar fiery
glow.

*Ah, Berenice ...* said the Ravenlord, looking up at his feathered
companion.  *Our guests have arrived ...*  Berenice cawed, and bobbed
her head twice.

John looked up from his book, curiosity in his eyes.  The Ravenlord
turned to him, saying, *I sought assistance in the question of
Zophiel ... I felt that he needed some time to think ... to
remember ...*

Rhiobhan glanced at the Ravenlord, her own curiosity piqued.  The
Ravenlord gave an upward glance at the rafters above them.  Rhiobhan
and John both looked up.

Perched over them were two more ravens, both of a size and bearing
greater than Berenice, herself.  The other birds flocked in the
rafters were doing their best to shift away from the new arrivals
with as little notice as possible.

John and Rhiobhan were taken aback by the familiar feeling these
harbingers evoked in them.

A knowing smile spread across the Ravenlord's face.


Poe

--- ravnlord <ravnlord@...> wrote:
> Lifting Rhiobhan back to her feet, the Ravenlord said,
> with a smile, *Point taken, love ...*

Rhio giggled, then immediately looked ashamed that such a
noise came from her.

"Well, darlin', it is my job to... deflate... *all* of you
that needs deflating...." She accompianied this statement
with a sultry and meaningful look. Then she spun out of his
arms, spun back, grabbed him and made him tango with her to
the rest of the song.

When the song was done she led him back to John's booth,
made him sit down, then curled up on his lap, or his
suggestion of a lap, nonchalantly wrapped her arm around
his shoulders, and resumed drinking her coffee with the air
of a cat that just shredded it's owners favorite slippers.

^*^Rhio^*^



=====
According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
abundance wherever order is being sought. It always defeats order, because it is
better organized. - Terry Pratchett - 'Interesting Times'

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> The effect of this never-before heard sound caused patrons to spin
> about, trying to find the source of the uproar.

I dropped the tankard that I'd been washing and gripped the inside of the bar,
thinking
to myself "What the hell....".  Then I saw the Ravenlord and John laughing.  Ye
gods, Ravenlord was laughing.  I poured myself a finger of whiskey to honor the
occasion.

"Who needs another round, this one's on the house?"


W.

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, Bantrobel <bantrobel@y...> wrote:
> Rhio then jumped up and started bouncing. "I love to this
> song!" she squeaked and raced off to the dance floor. The
> pulsing beat of Wasted by Wolfsheim rolled throughout the
> club, while the RavenLord sat stunned, water puddling
> beneath him onto the floor.

As Rhiobhan bounced off to the tune of Wolfsheim, the Ravenlord
turned his now-soggy head to look at John.  John's attempt to conceal
a snicker failed more and more with every droplet of water that
dripped from the Ravenlord's black hair.  The look of utter
astonishment on the Ravenlord's face did nothing to help John's
control.

The Ravenlord looked out to the main floor, to Rhiobhan, dancing and
laughing.  He looked back at John, who had taken to chewing his
lower lip in an effort to hold back his laughter.  Then, something
curious happened.

The corners of the Ravenlord's mouth began to twitch, and turn up at
the sides.  His form shook once, then again.  His body bent over the
table, and it shot back up as the Ravenlord let a loud, boisterous
laugh from the depths of his shadowy being.

The effect of this never-before heard sound caused patrons to spin
about, trying to find the source of the uproar.  The small flock of
birds in the
rafters burst off their perch in a flury of feathers at the shock of
it.  The Ravenlord's laugh gave John pause in his own snickering and
he stared, eyes widening.  The Ravenlord saw the look of shock that
John wore now, and his laughter stopped.  The two stared at each
other in silence for a beat, then both burst out laughing anew.

Some moments passed, and their laughter subsided some.  The Ravenlord
made a sweeping gesture over his head, and was instantly dry.  He let
out a sigh and looked at his old companion.

*How long has it been since I laughed like that?* the Ravenlord asked.

John shrugged, and offered, "Too long?"

*I thought so ...* said the Ravenlord.  *Will you excuse me?*  John
nodded, and the Ravenlord vanished down into the shadows.

Rhiobhan spun and bounced, lost in the joy of the dance.  So enrapt
was she in the movement and music, she did not notice the thick
shadows pooling around her feet.  She let out a small shriek, which
turned into a laugh, as the Ravenlord swept out of the floor and
lifted her off her feet.  He lowered her into a deep dip and touched
his lips to hers in a long, deep kiss.

Lifting Rhiobhan back to her feet, the Ravenlord said, with a smile,
*Point taken, love ...*


Poe

--- ravnlord <ravnlord@...> wrote:
> *The
> resolution forthcoming is hidden ... From this ... you
> will have a choice ...*
>
> The Ravenlord took a sip of his drink, and spoke again.
> *I await the voice of an angel ... to add another
> verse ...*

Rhio waited a minute to make sure that he was done, went
cross eyed for a minute, then got up and walked around to
the RavenLord. When she got there she stopped, considered
him for a moment, then dumped a suddenly convenient glass
of water on his head. That being done, she walked back
around the table, sat down, and demurely took a sip of her
coffee.

"Knock it off will you? If you must be ponderous and
egnimatic save it for another time, I have a headache! As
the great Samuel Clemens said 'Never use a larger word
where a diminutive one will do.' I think that applies to
concepts and speech as well. I already love you, you don't
need to impress me.'

Rhio then jumped up and started bouncing. "I love to this
song!" she squeaked and raced off to the dance floor. The
pulsing beat of Wasted by Wolfsheim rolled throughout the
club, while the RavenLord sat stunned, water puddling
beneath him onto the floor.

^*^Rhio^*^
I've decided to be difficult today..


=====
According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
abundance wherever order is being sought. It always defeats order, because it is
better organized. - Terry Pratchett - 'Interesting Times'

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> *You will recall that the Scarlet One told a tale ... with a much
> bravado ... upon his return ... * came the Ravenlord's whisper.
> *The
> resolution forthcoming is hidden ... From this ... you will have a
> choice ...*
>
> The Ravenlord took a sip of his drink, and spoke again.  *I await
the
> voice of an angel ... to add another verse ...*
>
>
> Poe
_____________________________________________________________________

John considered the Raven Lord's words, cryptic as they might be.
There were several possibilities that immidiately floated through
his head.  He reguarded the pool of shadows that was the Raven Lord
with a quizical expression.

"Indeed, it would seem that the counsel of our winged friend would
be most helpful."

With that John fell silent and sipped his drink with a thoughtful
expression on his face.

John

Bantrobel wrote:
"They didn't even notice that they had split
the brawling pair in two when they smacked into the bar."
*****************
The Starlett quickly grabbed up her drink before the intruding couple,
blinded by amour, could upset it.
"Damn! This crazy joint is really jumpin' tonight!!"
They got their drinks from a bemused Winter and went back into thier corner
of the Altar Bar to rejoin the Keeper.

Straylight worte:
Lop removed a black and gold deck of playing card from the back pocket of
his faded denim trousers. He riffled them with practiced ease and dealt the
deck swiftly with five uneven piles, which he shuffled back into a whole.
"Now then, the stakes?"
"Simple, really, if I win you forget this ludicrious grudge of yours, if you
win you get to vent your frustration on my well being." Jack drawled with an
annoying smirk.
"And what if she wins?" Lop strained the words through his teeth, golden
eyes flashing with unseemly inner light.
Jack leans forward to look at the ageless Star, "Well, my dear, what if you
win?"
***************
The aincient Starlett chuckled,
"Ah! You kids are cute! Tell ya what,  I'll go easy on ya. A spin on the
dance floor with each of ya will do this old gal just fine!"

Jennifer, Closet Extrovert

--- In TheGothHouse@yahoogroups.com, Bantrobel <bantrobel@y...> wrote:
> Rhio half dances back to the table, sits down, gets up,
> moves to the other side, snatches the book John was reading
> off the table and places it out reach of the drinks, picks
> up her coffee, takes a long draught, then glares at the
> RavenLord as he is getting himself settled.
>
> "That little red pest was here again."

The Ravenlord let his reply coalesce within the minds of Rhiobhan and
John:

*The Scarlet One asked you, "Do you know what's to come?  How
you
will choose?" ...*

As the Ravenlord quoted it, his hollow voice took on a musical tone
much like the Scarlet One's own lilting timbre.  This caused
Rhiobhan
to shift uncomfortably.  She affirmed the Ravenlord's response
with a
nod.

The Ravenlord's form absorbed the recessed shadows of the booth,
so
much that his pale countenance was the only indication that he was
there – wrapped in tenebrous absence.  He lowered his head, and
the
fire of his singular eye dimmed.  Though diminished, it was enough to
reveal his companion's faces with a sanguine glow.  His pale hand
stretched forth from the dark, and his fingers drummed a slow beat
upon the table.  He lifted his burning gaze and regarded his beloved
lady.

*You will recall that the Scarlet One told a tale ... with a much
bravado ... upon his return ... * came the Ravenlord's whisper.
*The
resolution forthcoming is hidden ... From this ... you will have a
choice ...*

The Ravenlord took a sip of his drink, and spoke again.  *I await the
voice of an angel ... to add another verse ...*


Poe

--- ravnlord <ravnlord@...> wrote:
> *Welcome back, Lady ...* he said.
>
> *It appears that there are more matters of interest, here
> ...* the
> Ravenlord said, turning back to Rhiobhan.  *Shall we
> rejoin John?*

"Sure, why not! M'coffee's over there anyways."

Rhio half dances back to the table, sits down, gets up,
moves to the other side, snatches the book John was reading
off the table and places it out reach of the drinks, picks
up her coffee, takes a long draught, then glares at the
RavenLord as he is getting himself settled.

"That little red pest was here again."

^*^Rhio^*^
I just woke up, so I'm cranky...

=====
According to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle, chaos is found in greatest
abundance wherever order is being sought. It always defeats order, because it is
better organized. - Terry Pratchett - 'Interesting Times'

Check out my neato keen new website!!!!  http://www.morriganstears.com

New episode of Mope Opera coming soon...I swear!!!!

__________________________________
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> Samantha's pigtails were, if possible, even longer than before,
and the two quickly began chattering over the newest Palm-Matrix
device which graced Samantha's wrist and the strange camera that
Chance as Marissa had been using. At some point Winter kindly
slipped a drink within Samantha's reach and she took it without
realising as it as the two caught up.
>
> ~elisabeth
_____________________________________________________________________

John took a deep breath in through his nose.  The scents of the
house washed over him.  The lost souls were slowly coming out of the
woodwork, and with them the house itself seemed to be waking from
its somnolence.  The police cars hanging from the ceiling had
started their mad light show again and the DJ was spinning once
more.  Wherever he looked John could see patrons chatting or
gaming.  It was nice to see.  He allowed his gaze to traverse the
growing crowd until it came to rest on the Raven Lord who still
seemed a little bit shaky after having been given a "thorough
Smooching" by Rhio.  The sight was anough to bring a light chuckle
to the keeper, but it also made him long to see some of the other
old souls that used to pass through.  Chief among those he was
somewhat concerned about the owner of the establishment.  As he
watched, the keeper wondered what the old feather pillow was up to.

John

> "Can we get two Lemon Drops, my frosty one?"

Yes, of course fair maiden.  Consider it done.


And so it was.



W.

Chance nodded in return- she was never sure where she stood in relation to some
of the other visitors to The Goth House, but she appreciated the civility of the
greeting.

Turning back to the curious threesome made up of the two newcomers and the
Starlet, Chance was unaware that a figure in a long white lab coat had wandered
up from the lower regions of the house and was approaching her from behind.
Black rubber gloves, red-lensed goggles (which looked suspiciously familiar
somehow) and knee-high buckled platform boots followed a meandering course as
the wearer stared intently into a small gizmo with protruding antennae and what
appeared to be a minature satellite dish. The mumbling figure managed to walk
directly into Chance's back, startling both figures, which quickly changed to
sqeals of glee as Chance and Samantha recognised each other.

Samantha's pigtails were, if possible, even longer than before, and the two
quickly began chattering over the newest Palm-Matrix device which graced
Samantha's wrist and the strange camera that Chance as Marissa had been using.
At some point Winter kindly slipped a drink within Samantha's reach and she took
it without realising as it as the two caught up.

~elisabeth

In a message dated 5/12/2003 11:26:27 AM Eastern Standard Time,
ravnlord@... writes:
>
> The Ravenlord accepted the prepared lemon drops from Winter with a
> thankful nod, and offered one to Rhiobhan.  He turned his burning eye
> on the newcomers.  His eye came to rest on Chance, and he lifted his
> glass in greeting.
>
> *Welcome back, Lady ...* he said.
>
> *It appears that there are more matters of interest, here ...* the
> Ravenlord said, turning back to Rhiobhan.  *Shall we rejoin
> John?*
>
>
> Poe

Jennifer Hallam wrote:
> The Star listened with interest as she sipped her drink,
> "Now boy, you sold into slavery, took my will, and caused me centuries of
> imprisonment. What are ye last words goin’ to be?",
> "Well I'll be jiggered", she said, "You sound just like Victor Mature in one
> of those Bible movies." A far away look came over her face for the long
> forgotten memory, "Victor Mature, now there was a fine specimen of masculine
> fortitude, let me tell you! They said he walked both sides of the railroad
> track, if you know what I mean, (she winked at Winter) but I couldn't care
> less. The man was GEORGEOUS!" She took a drag from the cigarette holder and
> another sip of her drink. She spied the cards Jack had spread out on the
> bar. "Hey! Rummy! Deal us up, deal us up! Penny a point." She good naturedly
> slapped the short stocky man who lit her cigarette with the back of her
> hand. "You're not in any hurry are ya pal?" She turned her attention back to
> Winter, "Heya Joe, pour us another round, on me!" She rummaged through her
> beaded bag and pulled out a casino chip which she slapped down on the bar.
> It was very old and from Cuba. "Ya got any peanuts back there? I'm starvin'!
> 'Bout time this gin joint got to hoppin' again! Deal 'em up! What the hell
> kind of cards are those?"
"Those, my dear, are the Ambergris Tarot, painted by the reknown Martin
Lake," Jack spoke careful, a touch of playfulness at Star’s willingness
to suspend reality for her enjoyment.

"Now, Lop, perhaps we should settle this as the Lady suggests: a game of
card?" said Jack, to his smaller assailant.

The barrel-chested Lop grunted, and paused in heavy thought. "Alright,
ye viper, we shall have a quiet little game. I will provide the cards if
you don’t mind. Ye cheated more than once, and you’ll not cheat me
again." He eased skinny figure back into his seat, where Jack brushed
his lapels and straightened his shirt; a ludicrous effort considering
the ragged affair of his vestments.

Lop removed a black and gold deck of playing card from the back pocket
of his faded denim trousers. He riffled them with practiced ease and
dealt the deck swiftly with five uneven piles, which he shuffled back
into a whole.

"Now then, the stakes?"
"Simple, really, if I win you forget this ludicrious grudge of yours, if
you win you get to vent your frustration on my well being." Jack drawled
with an annoying smirk.

"And what if she wins?" Lop strained the words through his teeth, golden
eyes flashing with unseemly inner light.

Jack leans forward to look at the ageless Star, "Well, my dear, what if
you win?"

---
Pardons, had to work out a knotty plot point.

No Deus Ex Machinus, Please.

Too much of that damages the the Machine.

-c