Riddles in the Dark

Been feeling feisty today. 

Your Lady is a harsh mistress.
She is always there, watching you;
She looms over you like a harrying storm.She never stops and She never slows.
She never hurries; She never gives back.
She never changes, though She is ever-changing.
You think about Her more than anything else;
You think only of Her.
There is never enough of Her; yet She is everywhere.
You live with Her as a slave yet you cannot live without Her.
You are never free of Her.
You plan your life around Her;
You cannot outrun Her nor can you deny who She is.
She will catch up to you in the end;
She will continue even after you are gone without looking back.
Your Lady is a harsh mistress.

Time.

Aleksandr Dalton touched the heads of each of the dead bodies as he walked down the line of bloodied mess he had just created. Each one was wrapped in a white sheet with 2 gold coins placed over their long empty eyes, eyes that looked off into a world only he knew and wished they were back in the world in which he knew nothing of.
         Kneeling down at the last body, Aleks touched the center of the corpse’s forehead until he felt that familiar electric ‘zing’ pulse beneath his slender, tapered finger. He closed his light grey eyes as he frowned.
         This was the last of them, for now at least. It was only a matter of time before he was here again, doing the one thing he didn't really want to do: killing. He was a creator, but more so, a destroyer, and that seemed to be bubbling nearer to the surface every day that the Winter Solstice grew closer. As they grew closer to capturing him and taking from him all he possessed.
         Turning around from the stoic and empty faces, Aleks met the eyes of his brother, who stared back at him with a smirk. He had been here three days and already his overwhelmingly arrogant demeanor was wearing him down. He seemed to pop up at the most inopportune times.
         When Aleks had initially come out here, it was to fish and relax. Then, out of nowhere, Crimson’s ‘gang’ decided to join him. The fight had been brutal, but since Crimson was missing, Aleks was able to prevail. As soon as the last man had fallen lifelessly to the earth, there was his brother. Smiling with arms crossed, he stepped from behind the trees and greeted him as if he had never been gone. Even now, he stood, watching him as if he knew exactly who Aleks was. The feeling he got unnerved him. Enough for him to ask, “What?”  Aleks’ frown deepened at the look on his brother’s face.
         “Nothing, Leks, just watching the way you work. So precise. So caring. So unjustified.”
         The mist around them began to thicken with Aleks’ mood. He didn’t like to be chastised over his work. It was a brutal, distasteful task that he despised, but he did the most he could to uphold some sense of decency throughout it all. Hence the proper burial for men who wanted to gut him. Closing his eyes again, he focused on the sound of the bubbling swamp behind them, allowing it to calm him, lest he add his brother to the mix.
         “If I were given the task of picking watermelons and daisies, it might be different, Rafe. But it's far from that now.”
         Raphael raised his hands in surrender and said, “Not trying to cause offense, bro. No need to turn into Dr. Dick so quickly.”
         Aleks shook his head at the childish nickname. He wasn’t sure where he had gotten the PhD, but he’s wasn’t going to challenge his older brother’s nicknaming.
         “C’mon, Rafe,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s go.”
         “Yeah, cause all this killing has got me a-starvin’. What’re you thinking? Mexican? Chinese buffet? Hooters is always great for the family.”
         Aleks had to hold back his chuckle as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. “Whatever, man. This stuff always puts a bad taste in my mouth. Stuff just don’t taste right afterwards.”
         “The pub it is, bro. You need a stiff drink after a night with these stiffs.” Raphael laughed and wagged his eyebrows as he nudged Aleks in the ribs with his elbow. “Get it, Leks? Stiffs?”
         Aleks nodded slowly. “Got it. Now let’s go,” he said as he started to leave the grasslands until his brother called him.
         “You gonna go like that, Leks? With that death all on you?”
         Aleks gave his brother a cruel grin. “I am Death, Rafe. What more do you expect of me?”
         Rafe groaned in exasperation at his younger brother’s sense of humor. “Something that doesn’t make you reek of a backwoods ‘billy, maybe?”
         Aleks sighed and rolled his eyes. As he turned to face his brother, his attire shimmered and shifted from his current wet and muddy clothes to a pair of tailored black leather pants tucked into a scuffed pair of black Steve Madden Ajax boots and a black Capilene V-neck. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair.
         “Better?” he asked gruffly.
         Raphael shrugged as he strutted past him. “I guess that’s the best you clean up anyway. C’mon, Eric Draven, let’s grub up.”

         The pub was overcrowded tonight and smelled like the pen of pigs that infested it, but winter was coming swiftly and the horny hogs needed some fire in their veins to warm them to life. Aleksandr took a deep, long sip of the bourbon in his right hand, draining the glass of all its contents, before he slammed it back down on the bar. He tried to distinguish the chagrin in his sneer at the animals mingling throughout the wooden walls, but it was a futile attempt.
         "Another," he ordered to the barmaid before he turned away and leaned back against the wooden bar. He placed a heel upon the bottom rung of the barstool next to him as his dark grey eyes prowled the crowd.
         Since his meeting with Roslyn and Malachi, he had been unable to relieve his head of all the thoughts jumbled about inside and, with the return of his brother, he was almost at his wits end. He didn’t really understand why after all this time they had all chosen now to show up. His brother had been gone for almost ten years and called maybe once a year to check on him. He was a big wig in London with the music industry and spent most of his time bar hopping for latest music trends. He wanted nothing to do with either him or anything relating to Styx. Raphael had put himself as far away from it all as possible since their parents’ death.
         Along with his concern over his latest family additions were also those of Tobias Fitz and Crimson. They seemed related to each other, yet not. He couldn’t seem to figure out their correlation with one another. They didn’t seem to communicate but they seemed to be both after the same thing. He didn’t understand.
         He also didn’t know why they were so completely intent on his arrest and yet, as easily and as close as they came to him, they couldn’t capture him. He knew they were skilled enough. He also knew that he didn’t know his own powers well enough to know that he could overpower them and save himself. He had been lucky tonight and Raphael had proved a good distraction. As reluctant as he was to admit it, he appreciated his brother’s presence, as surprising and strange as it was.
         Clearing his head, Aleks looked over his shoulder and noticed the youthful smile plastered on his brother’s face. Raphael adored the humanly wiles, soaking in the ability to be normal and carefree. Raphael basked in the appreciation of the women’s flirts aimed right at him and the envy of the men. At six foot four, the brothers put most men to shame and called more attention to them than Aleks preferred. Woman seemed to have some strange attraction to gigantism.
         “What else can I get ya guys?” asked the barmaid as she set down Aleks' bourbon and quickly began wiping a glass clean before she began stacking them.
         “Two car-bombs,” said Raphael, holding up two fingers. “And make Dr. Dick's here a double. He’s got some panties in a wad that need unfurling.”
         The barmaid laughed as she walked over to the Jameson.
         “Thanks,” growled Aleks.
         “Loosen up, bro. Fight’s over. Job’s done. Night’s young and we don't have any obligations. Unless you’d like to beat some more skulls? You tired yet?”
         Aleks shook his head as his brother leaned back against the bar and kicked a foot up on a nearby barstool. Ever human. Ever arrogant. “I still don’t understand how you like the humans and don’t get what makes my life suck.”
         Raphael shrugged as he gazed out among the crowd. “Well first off, Leks, you're the only one with ‘the power’. I didn't come from the same father as you. So, having any sense of the duty you carry is lost on me. Second, I see how you look at them, Leks. After all they do to you, attempting to kidnap you for what you have, they should have no mercy on their souls. But you look at them with compassion. You see in them things I don’t care about. You see life, opportunity, purpose. I see ‘Survivor’ and ‘Jersey Shore’. It’s like watching another ridiculous ‘Big Brother’ and every day I wait to see who’s going to get voted off the Island of Life. And then that’s where you step in. Bottoms up.”
         Aleks watched his brother drop his shot glass into the half-full glass of Guinness and toss it back. With a shake of his head, he followed.
         Raphael slammed his glass down on the bar. “How many seconds was that? Four? Did I beat my record?”
         “3.5.”
         Raphael threw a fist into the air. “Yes!” Throwing his other arm in the air, he did a little victory dance as Aleks rolled his eyes and turned away when something hit his abdomen. He stiffened at the touch and smell. His lip curled as he looked down at the platinum blonde human that had ran into his stomach.
         “Whoa! Sorry there, dude,” she said loudly, slurring.
         Aleks narrowed his eyes at the woman as he placed his glass on the bar. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.
         “Oh wow, dude, sorry. I thought you were one of those wooden pillars. You’re like a tree! My bad. At least I didn’t spill my drink! No party foul here, man!”
         Aleks made a sound of disgust as the blonde walked off cackling and waving down her group of ‘woo girls’.  Raphael chuckled at his side as he reached behind him to grab his replacement beer.
         “I’m not like a tree, you moronic knit-wit,” Aleks growled through gritted teeth.
         “Yea, I know, bro. Disgusting. But man, are they easy when you need ‘em.” Aleks eyes grew wide at his brother’s chauvinistic comment. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Leks, look at that.”
         Aleks turned his gaze in the direction his brother was motioning as Raphael tapped his shoulder repeatedly with the back of his hand. Raphael whistled low. “Look. At. That,” he said again, enunciating each word.
Aleks sucked in an irritated breath. He didn’t move as he watched her walk in past the swinging door behind the man and woman she was following. He heard nothing but her charming laughter as she stepped beneath the dim light of the bar. The warmth of her smile, a smile that seemed to hold dark secrets behind it, sent a shock wave dead center in his gut. Her auburn hair fell around her face like a halo and midway to her back in loose waves and her eyes were the greenest he had ever seen. They reminded him of the lush rolling hills and emerald valleys where he lived and they struck a place inside almost like the thought of home would.
It was her.
His hand trembled ever so slightly with the second shot in it and he downed the Irish whiskey quickly just to let the burn take his mind off the way her smile made his knees weak.
Raphael whistled low before he turned back to the bar and shot gunned the rest of his beer. Slamming it down on the counter, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned over at his brother, nudging him with his elbow.
“Hey, bro. Enough with the creeper stare. You’re gonna frighten her. Women are like gazelle; you make too many sudden movements they’ll leap out of your life forever. Turn your face, dude.”
Aleks clamped his jaw shut and regretfully turned away. “Who is she?” he asked.
Raphael shrugged. “Hell if I know. I haven’t been to town in what? Ten years? Besides, I haven’t been here long enough for me to know who they are and what they like. Though when I think about it, brother, I doubt it’s your steam punk look.”
Aleks’ lip curled in a sneer. “My middle finger would like to salute you, Rafe.”
He laughed. “Bring it on!” His gaze turned away quickly. “But it’ll have to wait till after I have a taste of her. Delicious!”
Aleks watched as his brother grabbed his glass from the bar, saluted him with it, and then traipsed off after a bouncy blonde. Well, that would be the end of him tonight. Now, he was the lone ranger and, if he could just find the girl, then he’d be fit for the night.
As Aleks turned to the bar to grab his latest glass of Guinness, a dark shadow fell over him.
“Yes?” he asked stonily as he took a sip of the dark liquid. The pub had suddenly gone quiet. Something was up.
“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Dalton. Out in the open. Usually you’re stuck cowering in a hole, waiting for me to come back and beat your ass. I’m surprised you’ve got the balls to show your face in public.”
Aleksandr turned around in one calculated motion at the insult. His eyes narrowed into slits; his body tensed like a predator and it took a large amount of his effort to not gut the man right in front of the entire crowd. But he was better than that.
Grinding his teeth, Aleks scanned the length of the bulk before him. Tobias Fitz. One of the men that deserved to be in that swamp grave tonight. Instead, he was here and challenging him in the open where he knew Aleks couldn’t hurt him. Well, hurt him, yes. But kill him, no. He was a sneaky snake and Aleks didn’t like him. Since the Winter Solstice was soon coming, he had seen more of Fitz’s presence of late. They wanted him, but they wouldn’t get him.
Fitz’s light blonde hair fell wildly around his face and his crooked grin crawled on his face like acid. Aleks was utterly disgusted.
“I beg your pardon, Fitz?” he questioned softly.
The people in the pub began to tense. By Aleks’ tone, he meant business and they weren’t in the situation to get caught in his crossfire. Either side they chose the other would be out for revenge.
“You heard me, Dalton. You’re a coward. I don’t like cowards. You should just give me what I want and then go back to the cheap hovel where you belong, rodent.”
Aleks laughed mirthlessly at the irony of Fitz’s comment. Then, with little to no effort, he jumped up from his seat with the strength and grace of a cat and grabbed Fit by the throat, slamming him against the brick wall.
By now Aleks was sure everyone in the pub was watching and that was the way he wanted it, the way it needed to be. If any of Fitz’s other groupies were around then they’d get the message. They needed to know that Aleksandr Dalton wasn’t a pushover. They needed to know where they stood.
“Listen to me, Fitz, and listen closely. If you ever come around here again and try to belittle me, I will personally rip out your intestines, tie them around your throat and let you hang until that little twitching that happens in your foot when your nerves are still trying to shut down- you know that one? Until that stops,” he spat dangerously.
Fitz’s breath hitched in his throat. Aleks’ normally neutral exterior was twisted with rage and his irises looked like thunderheads as he said,
“You thought you could just march up to me and make yourself look tough, did you? It’s filth like you that makes filth like me look bad. Perhaps, if you could keep that girly arm of yours from shaking when you’re shooting, you might actually be able to shoot something worthwhile. Hopefully yourself. Never again, Fitz. Don’t try this. Ever. Again.”
Sweat was beading on Fitz’s forehead as a result of his efforts to stay conscious from the grip around his bulging throat. He thought about trying to escape, but soon realized that he didn’t stand a chance.
“Do we understand one another?”
“Ye-yeah, Dalton. We understand,” he whimpered painfully.
Aleks’ eyes glinted with high amusement. “Very well,” he replied as he dropped him carelessly to the floor. Turning around, Aleks fixed everyone in the room with a dead stare. “Does anyone else have anything they wish to say to me? Any problems they’d like to work out?”
Everyone looked at their glasses.
“No? Then you all enjoy your drinks,” he said as he turned and stalked out of the pub. Before the door slammed behind him, he could hear the roar of discussion he had left in his wake. He was quite pleased with himself.
         Aleks turned and loped down the road, his head pounding. He stopped at the parking lot when a loud buzzing hummed in his coat pocket. He patted himself down until his left hand hit the small metal box Roslyn had given him. It was vibrating.
         All that noise was coming from this little box. He turned it over in his hand and lifted it to his face. He pressed the little button on its side.
         Suddenly a voice began to sound from it and Aleks’ head jerked back. It was scratchy and the static grew worse as he tried to make it out. He cocked his head to the side and the reception came in clear. Figures, he thought.
         “Aleksandr,” it spoke.
         The voice of Malachi, harsh and short, emanated from the box and Aleksandr listened closely at the instructions.
         “You’ve got to get out of there. We’ve detected a threat heading your way. You need to leave now.”
         “But-”
         The box crackled and a piercing hum came out of it and then stopped. “Aleksandr, go! We gave you this for a reason. Now get out of there!”
         Aleksandr nodded at the little box and shoved it back into his pocket. He started to walk on in a shallow bafflement when he ran into something hard.
         “Gee, seems we’re always running into each other, old friend,” snarled a familiar voice.
         Aleks’ heart dropped at the sound of it. He nodded, looking down at his boots then up to Crimson Black. Damn.
         “It is a small world, isn’t it?”
         Crimson smirked. “No not really, Dalton, old friend. Only I have business to take care of and, fortunately, you always seem to be around when I need to get it done.”
         “Huh, that’s a shame. But meanwhile, I just ran into your little friend back there. You might want to go comfort him. I think I might’ve scared him a bit. Oh man! If I had known that you’d be coming to play, then I would’ve invited him to join us in the sandbox. I am so rude. My mother just never did teach me those things called manners.”
         “Ah, Dalton, kids we are not. That boy means nothing to me. He works for my father. I’m not here for him. I’m here for you, for Styx’s key. And once I get it, I can end your miserable, worthless life.”
         Crimson ticked off the last three words as if he was reciting a grocery list. Aleks switched his stance and glared into the devilish eyes of Crimson.
         “I’d like to see you try,” he whispered.
         Crimson leaned forward, inches from Aleksandr’ s face. “It’d be my pleasure,” he murmured in his scratchy, deep tone.
         Then, from out of nowhere Crimson struck Aleks hard across the temple. Dizziness crawled throughout his head as he tried to shake it off, but not before Crimson grabbed his shirt and lifted him from the ground. The shirt pulled tightly around his neck and his face grew red as he gasped for breath.
         “It was wrong to challenge me, Dalton,” Crimson said while throwing Aleks on the ground.
         Aleksandr scooted back on his hands, peering up at the unforgiving man above him. Stepping slowly over him, Crimson stomped one of his large combat boots on Aleks ankle with a sickening ‘crunch’. Aleks cried in anguish as his ankle was pinned to the ground. His entire leg cramped up, filling his head with pain instead of the motivation to fight back. His heart began to skip beats and his head felt as if it would explode as Crimson slammed his other boot down Aleksandr’ s other ankle.
         He dug his nails into Crimson’s leg. He felt paralyzed and useless. He couldn’t move.

-NIMBUS 

Grace in Disguise: Reaching Out

I lay by his side,

Hear his heart beat fading.

I’m going to lose him soon

The Doctor says,

“You've got 10 seconds to live”

And my heart he’s taking.

5 seconds pass and all I do is cry.

He can only hear the sounds I’m making.

I turn to him

And tell him the 3 words I long to hear back,

“I love you.”

But when he turns to say

8 seconds had gone astray

And I can feel him dying.

My head is on his heart

His hand on my arm

And as the last 2 seconds pass

He says,

“I love you too.”

I turn to him, tears in my eyes

Only to see the light in his die.

The nurse helps me up

I’m struggling on not fainting.

He’s gone forever,

And with him I’ll always be.

I could barely see as the water washed up and over me in a flash flood warning. Crashing into the sides of my skull, flowing through the crevices of my brain and splashing against my nerves, it filtered throughout my mind. I had yet to believe it. I couldn't believe it. Death had fallen at my feet. Love knelt helplessly before me asking for forgiveness, but I gave it none. I had none to give. My heart ached as it fell deeper into the cave of my body.

Thump thump.

Bump bump.

Up and down, up and down.

I tried to stop it. I couldn't stop it.

Thump thump.

Bump bump.

Up and down, up and down.

Sitting back, I hit my head against the wall. My eyes stared straight forward, staring into nothing. What was there left to see? Nothing. I couldn't understand, had yet to understand. The beeps, the buzzes, the yelling, the screaming and the crying- most of it my own.

“Stop!” I had yelled, but no one would listen to me. Why wouldn't they listen to me? Because I had nothing to say that they wanted to hear.

“No!” I hollered, trying to push my way through. “No, no, no!” 

But who was I to decide his fate? Who was I to make decisions for him? He had already decided. He had already made his choice. He had already said goodbye without actually saying it.

I remember as he squeezed my hand a little too tightly. I remember how he smiled a little too sadly and said, “Thank you.”

I shook my head. “No, J. Don’t give up on me.” He squeezed again. But I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't see the signs.

“I love you, P.” He smiled as he said this and it took all argumentativeness out of me. But now all I wanted to do was yell at him, scream at him, hit him and shake him. Why? Why would he do this to me? Instead, why would he do this to himself?

They pushed me aside as if I was nothing. They pushed me back into a chair and told me to ‘sit’ like I was a dog that needed obedience training. Perhaps I did. If not, then I would have seen the signs. Oh, but why hadn't I seen the signs before?

Panic and angry waves of disdain flowed through my veins. My body was numb; my head was heavy. My eyes hurt and my mouth couldn't open wide enough for me to yell loud enough to get through his thick skull that what he was doing didn't need to be done yet. Why did it need to be done now? We had so much time left. We had had so much time.

Everyone calls me P. My full name is of no concern anymore; it is broken. It is broken like my crying heart. The light in his eyes is now gone. His hands are so cold. His eyes, the tick tick tick of his heart as it slowed down, they can’t go yet! I expected his eyes to pop open. I expected his heart to speed up with the force and will to live. I expected his breathing to start again.

“Can’t you intubate him?” I yelled. “Do your job! You’re letting him die!”

They grabbed my arm and asked me to leave. They told me they were doing the best they could, but they weren't! What were they doing in there? All I could see was his arm hanging off the bed. The oxygen was cranked and the hissing scared me. There was no defibrillator. There was no ventilator. They didn't start compressions. At least, I didn't see any of that through the rainfall in front of my eyes.

I stood up and shoved the nurse that was talking to me out of the way.

“Do you even know what you are doing?” I condescended. “I've seen TV shows more realistic than you people! Fix him!”

Tears welled up in the nurse’s eyes as her hand fell from my arm. “We've tried everything, ma’am,” she whispered.

“You've tried nothing! I've seen you try nothing!”

She put a hand to my face to try and console me but I shook it off. I didn't want her. I wanted him.

“We have tried everything,” she repeated sadly.

 “Isn't there another way?” I cried, trying to get around her.

“Ma’am, we did everything we could.”

I stopped short. I quit struggling. I looked at her and bit my lip to keep it from shaking. My breathing quickened. I began to grow silently angry.

“You say that like you've given up,” I snapped.

The nurse bowed her head. “No, we didn't give up. We tried for over an hour to resuscitate him. He’s not coming back. I’m sorry.”

I couldn't control myself. I was shaking so much I had to sit down. This was it? This was the end? This was how he was going to go?

Everything was a whirlwind; I could barely remember my name as I slid down the wall and onto the floor in a heap of bones. The fluid filled sac that is my mind bobbed up and down, up and down. It is deflated and squished, soaking in the remnants of coffee and faux flowers. The people around me pace back and forth, their heels tip-tap-tapping on the marble floor, their hands clasped behind their back. I watch the white tile. 

1, 2, 3, 4. Turn. Do it again. 1, 2, 3, 4.

“Something terrible has happened,” I whispered to myself over and over.

Everything that I had ever known had been whisked from underneath me like a rug beneath my feet. My vision was cloudy; people hurried around me, but the sounds were all the same. I could feel hands touching my shoulders, coaxing me to eat, drink, and stand. They hugged me and pulled me into their arms, but I felt none of it. I could only stare blankly, thinking, “What do I do next?”

My heart, my soul, my everything lay back within that cold, white room. Nothing seemed like it would get better. Could it ever?

My head dropped to my knees. What was there left for me to do? I was forsaken.

A blinding light from across the hall then caused me to cover my eyes. It was brighter than the sun. It is what I expect to see when Heaven comes, it is so bright. The crook of my elbow wasn't much relief from the blinding glare.

            “Do not hide from me,” called a voice from above, but the luster hurt my eyes and I could only peak through the crease of my elbow.

“Here I am.”

            A man, of such glory I have never known, stood before me. He smiled softly with his hands held out in front of him. Something was in his palms. It moved ever so slightly, but I couldn't see it well. As he stepped forward, almost as if he were floating, I could finally see what is in his hands. Little pieces of my heart pulsed, glowing red.

            “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

My voice was more a croak; I had little left to give, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his. Eyes so familiar, so soft, and so loving, I felt like I was at home. My knees trembled and my stomach ached, but I pushed to my feet nonetheless. I grabbed his hands in mine; they looked just like his. The same scars and the same calluses were there with the same memories. But how could it be? Oh, but I didn't care! Had he really returned? I could barely conceal the wonderment!

As I saw my heart move back together within his palms, every piece going to its proper place, I noticed the scars and little lines. They looked fragile and tender, but the pieces were now whole all the same. What did it all mean?

            I looked into his glorious face; the face that I had loved all of my life; the face I look forward to when my time comes, and I smiled. I don’t know how the muscles worked, but they did.

As he took me into his arms, my heart hurt, but it was whole. I saw a picture so clear now that it was like I was actually there. In that moment, I had been given a blessing; I had been given another chance. Through grace and an unbounding and unbroken love, my feeble arms and my weak knees found strength. A sense of serenity washed over me and I laughed as I breathed,

            “Thank you."

...I could barely see as the water washed up and over me in a flash flood warning.  Crashing into the sides of my skull, flowing through the crevices of my brain and splashing against my nerves, it filtered throughout my mind. I had yet to believe it. I couldn't believe it. Death had fallen at my feet. Love knelt helplessly before me asking for forgiveness... 
...and I gave it everything I had...

-Cat A. Strophe

Is a Kiss with a Fist Better Than None?

As an avid reader, I tend to require a little love, hope and at least a smooch or two in the book to keep my interests peaked. I tend to enjoy the descriptive properties of a character's personality compared to their whereabouts because, in my opinion, the emotions are key to really being in their shoes and the eyes literally are the window to the soul. 

Frozen in place, Mara watched as he came down the floor. The few steps seemed much too far. It was as if they were on a different dimension, another wavelength altogether, where a few minutes took hours, even days. But she didn’t care. As his eyes lowered and framed his face with an expression of serenity and oblivion, Mara felt herself give in a little to her heart.

She bit her lip as she imagined the color of his eyes, pure and vivid like the whisper of his smile, transient and unforgettable: overcast. She watched as his hands slipped deeply into the pockets of his slacks. That one leisurely movement always gave her chills, scaring and tempting her all the same. -NIMBUS

As one reads, or even if they do not, there is a search going on, especially in romance. It is to find "the one". We find ourselves captivated by the strong, suave, and dashing character and we try and relate/compare this in our modern life. And as we continue to read, it becomes more and more obvious (Fifty Shades, Twilight, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Anne Bishop) that the top-selling authors as well as purchasing readers enjoy a man who is confident yet dark, sorta secretive sexy and needy (not necessarily the whiny, clingy needy). That's where the mystery lives, though... in figuring out the darkest corners of their minds, their deepest secrets. It increases the heart rate, makes a reader excited and eager, because who can tell what will happen next? What will that character do? He/she is so unpredictable. *valley girl voice*

Personally, I enjoy a snarky, intelligent, and passionate male character (human). Arrogance can only go so far and yet someone who has utterly no spine is useless to me. A willful, humble character (human) is a beautiful character (human). Meekness: strength under control. Such a powerful word that is used too inadequately. Do you not agree?

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves."
-Phillipians 2:3

What are good qualities that you enjoy in a character- male or female? 

Is it a leading lady with a bad attitude and the power to back it up?

Trust me, there's power there. That man weighs 200 lbs. 

 A knight in shining armor that has the magical weapon to protect his dame and woo said damsel?

Could be a magical ring...

 Is it love at first sight or a slowly growing relationship that builds over time? 

So, despite the slight bragging above regarding my husband (he is just too cute, but don't tell him I said that. If he asks, I said he is manly!), what I usually look for is "truthful" love; passionate, clear, and pure in its intentions. Veritas.

Love at first sight... kind of...

A man, who appeared around her age, maybe a year or two older, leaned casually against the wall across the street. He looked oddly familiar, as if she had seen him in a dream or should know him, but she couldn’t place a name. 

         His mussed dark brown hair hung in eyes that were the stormiest gray she had ever seen. He was tall, about 6’4”, with a lithe build and dressed in a grey shirt with a black leather jacket. She had a sudden urge to run her hands down that abdomen to see what was hidden beneath the shirt that was annoyingly in the way and the thought shocked her. 

         His right leg was crossed casually over his left foot and his hands were shoved deeply into the pockets of his black jeans that fit his every curve as he stood beneath a tarp labeled “Rose Co. Pawn Shop”. 

         He was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. His bright eyes pierced through her dark green like thunderheads with an emotion Mara could not quite place. His skin was pale and looked as if she could let her hand drift down his cheek and leave a powdery residue on her palm. 

         Mara’s mind raced. She didn’t know who he was and she didn’t care. All she did know was that she wanted him to come closer to her. She could feel her mouth drop open, but she couldn’t control it. She wanted to touch him, smell him, and taste him. She had never had such an impulse towards a man before and this… this drove her wild. Realizing her jaw was still hanging to her feet, she snapped it shut with a click of her teeth and took a deep breath through her nose. 

         His expression changed at this movement and she could swear he was smiling at her. She knew there was something she should know about this boy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

         The wind blew silently as neither of them made a sound. His scent was blown in her direction. It was the most beautiful fragrance she had ever smelled. It reminded her of home, a place she knew little of. 

         The smell took her back and scared her. She stepped away from him as the boy’s expression changed into a look of angry hunger. His glower penetrated her curious gaze with hatred and a feral gleam. He reminded her of a feral tiger that you wanted to pet and cuddle, but you didn’t know for sure if he’d cuddle back or eat your face. Picking up her courage, Mara turned quickly away and headed for home.

         As she walked away, she took the last remaining bit of her courage to take a quick glance at the spot where the man was. 

         The street lamp he had been standing beneath was empty; there was no evidence that he had been there except for a few sparkles that glinted in the lamp light. His smell and appearance still lingered in her mind. 

         Stupid hot guy, she snubbed.

        

----------

         The sly grin of Aleksandr Dalton protruded from the dark shadows of the street like the Cheshire Cat‘s. His eyes appeared next, sneaky and snarly, which matched the always cloudy sky. 

         After the departing figure of the girl fled down the sidewalk, he unleashed himself from the shadows. He had never seen anyone react in quite the way the girl had when she had seen him and he kind of enjoyed the control he had; the way a slight movement made her jaw drop. It made him feel in control of something. He was definitely not in control of himself of late and seeing her reaction made him feel almost powerful. 

         He could feel the zing of electricity in him as his adrenaline heightened and then began to simmer. Yet, while he liked the way she seemed frightened and allured by him, he couldn’t understand the feeling that he himself got when she was standing there. She had done nothing but stare at him wide-eyed and he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

         Her reaction towards him angered and excited him. He was aroused, but very, very nervous. Never had he had anyone really noticed him. People usually looked right through him. She had looked directly at him with eyes so green it felt as if she was searching his soul. This was something very different and he couldn’t get the thought out of his head that she knew who he was.

         Words his mother had spoken to him long ago flashed in the back of his head. He shook it.  The premonition that said he should stay away from her, as if she was a bad omen, was heavy but a deep and dark pulling on the insides of his chest said otherwise.

         It said he needed to find her again.

And perhaps a little linguistic flirting. 'Cause every woman LOVES a man who can quote from Literature...

After she was a few blocks away and had ditched Crimson before he could retaliate, Amarande Black pressed herself up against a tree off the edge of the sidewalk and let out a deep breath.

         Aleksandr Dalton. The one person in the entire world that she was sworn entirely from was the secret angel she’d been infatuated with since that night on the sidewalk.

         How can this be? She thought. Why must irony be so cruel? She closed her eyes tightly. Now he was her enemy. Evil. Her evil angel.

         She wondered how she could’ve been so stupid. Her father would have her head if he knew she had been so careless! Her mind raced and her nails dug into the bark.

         “I believe this is yours.” 

         Mara nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice behind her. She whirled around as a stiletto slipped from her sleeve. She held it up, ready to throw, but she hesitated. She never hesitated.

         It was him, though. Her knife lowered and she stepped back. Somehow, he had found her, followed her. 

         "Who are you?" she demanded through gritted teeth. She needed to know from the horse's mouth, though, he looked nothing like a horse. No, he was quite close to perfect and every time that grey gaze crossed hers she felt her knees weaken.

         The boy smirked and bowed his head slightly, a little notion that made her heart skip and terrified her in the process. "Who? Dear Lady, 'who’ is merely the form behind the ‘what’ and, while ‘who’ I am is none of your concern, ‘what’ I am is exactly what you've been looking for.”

         Aleks' eyes flickered with amusement at the subtle drop in Mara's jaw. He loved what he was doing to her. She was dangerous, he had seen that, but she had also spared him. She had seen something in him that gave him a second chance and in that instant he took it. Hook. And. Sinker. He had been caught before she had even attempted to capture him and he intended to prove to her that this second chance was all he needed.

         Quickly, he pulled his hand from behind his back, his palm up. A dim lightning flickered around his wrist. His eyes swirled like the eye of a hurricane, entrancing her. Involuntarily, Mara crept closer to him as his lightning chain wrapped around her waist. She felt no shock at its touch. It was almost as if it caressed rather than stung. She was mesmerized at the cool touch of electricity, but always her eyes returned to her evil angel's face.

         He tugged on the chain, bringing her inches from his warm form. His breath was sweet in her face and her mind reeled with his beauty. He was like a demon stricken with the necessity of life that she deeply needed, but wanted even more. Her eyes fell half-mast as they traced the lines of his lips. Kiss me.

         "I believe you've been looking for me, Mara," he whispered so close she thought he might actually answer her thought. She felt herself being pulled under his lure and she wanted nothing else.

         His lips parted ever so slightly and her heart lurched into overdrive as his tongue slipped out to wet the corners of his mouth.

         Control. The thought popped into her head spontaneously. Get control over yourself!

         Regretfully, she pulled her gaze from Aleksandr Dalton's face and to the ground as she blinked to regain control. She closed her eyes and began to feel herself become weightless. She slid through his grip as if she hadn't been there at all and backed away from him.

         "Do not mock me, Mister Dalton. I should cut out your tongue for being so cheeky."

         Calculatedly, Aleks took a small step forward, his half-smile still silkily shining on his angelic face. His next move would set the next events in motion. Hopefully, he thought. He was only hoping he had assessed enough about the woman before him to be able to do so.

         "'Dear darling Tessy'," he whispered as he launched towards her in one large step and wrapped his arms around her waist. "'Don't, for heaven's sake, 'mister' me anymore. I have hastened back so soon because of you!'"

         The quote from Tess of the D’Urbervilles made her head spin and rendered her speechless. She didn't know how he knew, but he had hit her in a tender spot and, as his arms pulled her closer, she thought her skin might catch fire. She felt an unknown heat emanate between them and it scared her. She began to feel her control slip as she slipped through his body to the other side of him.

         Her eyes searched the ground as she searched her mind for some explanation for the man behind her. She couldn't look at him without wanting to kiss him and gut him at the same time. That look in his eyes, it seemed so familiar and so haunted. She wanted so much for it to be directed at her again, only her. 

         But she couldn't. She must take him back to her father for the Winter Solstice and take his powers. It was the only way.

         Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her chin and turned back to him.

         "You have no idea who you are dealing with, Aleksandr Dalton."

         Aleks grinned as he slipped his hands into his pockets and blew a stray strand of dark hair from his eyes. Mara felt her knees shudder.

         "Oh, I think that I do, Mara. You know as well as I that this will not be over quickly. I will not give in to your brother so easily, but you… I just might give in to you. I know that I've been on your mind just as relentlessly as you're been on mine."

         Mara's anger began to swell. His assumptions were beginning to infuriate her, but even worse they were scaring her because she felt the truth in them.

         "You have no idea what goes on in my mind, Dalton, and what does is definitely not you. I'd actually be worried for you if you did know. As for making this quick, well torture is my specialty. So expect an unforgiving end," she snapped triumphantly as she grabbed her dagger from his hand and stomped off.

         "You'll come back to me, Mara," he called after her. "You know you will. Fate is too unkind to allow you not to. This is just the beginning."

         Mara smiled and twiddled her fingers over her shoulder. You have no idea, she thought.

"Kiss with a Fist" by Florence + the Machine:

"It is about two people pushing each other to psychological extremes because they are fighting but they still love each other. The song is not about one person being attacked, or any actual physical violence, there are no victims in this song. Sometimes the love two people have for each other is a destructive force. But they can't have it any other way, because it's what holds them together, they enjoy the drama and pushing each other's buttons. The only way to express these extreme emotions is with extreme imagery, all of which is fantasism and nothing in the song is based on reality."

Comfortable with the Uncomfortable

"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just the first step." 

-Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Salvation. Deliverance. Is it ever too late? 

The world is a cold and unforgiving place and sometimes it wraps us in its clammy grasp and we are undertaken like a heavy ocean current, washed away and drowning within our mistakes and misery. We become a part of the world rather than just in it. We fix our eyes on worldly things rather than what is most important- the unseen. We lose sight of being a light unto the world and rather embrace the darkness because it is easy, it is "the usual", it is comfortable, it is what we know. 

Well guys and gals, it is time to get comfortable being uncomfortable. 

Now I've definitely had my murky past and I continue to make mistakes every day, but at least I know with God I'm on the right track. It is a trial each and every day to find the fine line between controlling my life and maintaining my life. The line is blurred and difficult to discern. Each and every day is a war on its own, but each and every day I get out of bed, I don my metaphorical battle armor and my sword, and I rise. There is no other way except to rise. I know this and you know this because we have all been brought to our knees, down on the ground with no lower to go. And what is next? What purpose and what reason is there to continue when the road seems deserted and dangerous? Love. Love is the reason and love is the purpose. And love is why I am here today.

When I began writing my first book, NIMBUS (meaning: a large gray cloud or a luminous halo surrounding a supernatural being/saint), it never appeared to me that I might be able to send a message out about goodness, love and truth. I'm not that clever and I like writing about magic. It didn't seem like those two things could mix with the immensely important points I wanted to convey. But the more I immersed myself in God and embraced the real me -not the shabby one I had dressed up to look like me- I discovered differently. What better way to send a message than from your own experience, hard earned wisdom, and battle wounds? … and perhaps SONG! Just kidding. I won't sing for you…just yet. 

In light of these things, Matthew says in 5:13-16:
“You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."

Salt. What does that even me? Well, you add salt to your food to add taste. It is a mineral, a necessity of life and a metaphor that signifies durability, purification, value, and fidelity. When you are in the ocean, the salt clings to you, adding to you. It is more than the human shell you have been given, begging you to become what others are afraid to become. It is joy and truth in the fact that we are not meant to become one with the world; we are to be in it as aliens: teaching, learning, and loving but never actually becoming what the world offers. It is hope. It is life eternal. 

So, how in a sense could I convey such awesomeness into words that might come across to anyone who might pick up my book looking for adventure and a good message? In my trials (that are still too close for comfort and I find haunting me ever too frequently), I learned that no one, I repeat NO ONE, is too far gone to be redeemed, loved, or cherished. Darkness is but an illusion; it is a destructive sense of self and a loss of purpose.

Here is how the above translates for me and how I put it to paper:

       “A name is a name, Mara, not the person behind it. If I were so worried about your name, we wouldn't be here right now. You are not so far from redemption, from truth, or from freedom that you must lose faith. It takes but one step into the light and one ray of hope for the waters to cleanse you of that doubt. It’s like standing on a pier and the waves are crashing. They leap and they cover you. They wash you with salt and water, but the salt clings to you and makes you something more. Don’t lose your saltiness, Mara. For if you do, what will be left of you?
         “You must fight for it, for that salt, because it won’t be easy. Nothing truly worthwhile is ever easy to obtain. Hope leads us. It leads us to perseverance and perseverance to character. We are all fallible. None of us are righteous, but we still have the capacity to love.
         “In the ages of old, people died for those they loved. They do so even now. They protect them as if they were sheep. I will be your sheepdog, if you’ll only be my lamb,” he said with a wry smile.

-M. Rose, NIMBUS

"Let your conversation always be full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." -Colossians 4:6

What does 'Always' mean to you?

"Christlike meekness takes bold, aggressive obedience."

Definition of Meekness - strength under control  

It is difficult to be humble, to place oneself out there and allow vulnerability to show. But with God, not much else matters (material things, what people think, personal accomplishments) because you learn that everything you do is for Him and  Him alone: His timing is perfect and He provides Always. What more do you need?

I have found that since embracing my faith that I am more ME than I have ever been. I have gotten stranger, crazier, and much weirder. But I love it. I embrace it and I rejoice in it. I am ME and whether someone likes that or not does not matter because why? Because I am HAPPY. Worries and concerns are lacking. And from this, my imagination has expanded. Ideas and dreams have come to life upon paper that I only ever dreamed of. 

We are all born with talents. These talents are not easily discovered and, through trial and error, sometimes they are revealed. And we must use them once we find them. Don't let your talents collect dust and grow atrophied with disuse. Repetitively and consistently use them!  Use them boldly. Use them aggressively. Use them hopefully!

A friend of mine once asked me, "What does 'Always' mean to you?"

('Always' is a small but very impactful and powerful quote from Harry Potter that's represented and cherished through the whole fan-base. But it's meaning surpasses just the story. It is more.)

What Always means to me:

"It means 'hope'. It means good memories and good friends; it means a love and a passion for what you believe in, for yourself, and an acceptance of yourself and those around you to be who you are and embrace it. It is love; it is truth, but mostly... it is hope."

'Always.'

1. Always trust in God
2. Always have hope in your back pocket
3. Always love with your entire self - allow no dark corners, fall to your knees willingly, and leave the door wide open
4. Always rely on truth - it will be your mentor
5. Always follow the path least traveled with faith as your ally
And lastly,
6. Always endure and always persevere. Do not lose your saltiness - it is what makes you YOU and sets you apart - for if you do, what will be left of you?