Special christmas treat that no one wants
So anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the Blue Cherry bar, an establishment that exists beyond the fringes of reality, and where all the drinks are blue (but not, as far as I can tell, made from cherries. Go figure).
We have two individuals, Miss Molly Nemoy and the good Professor Roerich. They were talking of Atibon, which I was not pleased about, to say the least. Roerich needs to learn some decorum.
The rain poured, and the streets were mere streaks of light and speed. Under the glow of neon, Molly shook her head and sighed.
“I have no idea what that means. Who is Atibon?”
Roerich looked doubtful for a moment. The door opened behind them, and a hooded figure entered the bar and sat down at an empty table. Roerich flicked a glance towards this new arrival, and then cleared his throat. He smiled a big fake smile, and leant his head towards Molly with his eyes set firmly on the seated figure.
“Time is short,” he whispered, his face contorting with panic. “You cannot stay here much longer.”
Molly started to laugh, but stopped when she saw the genuine fear in his eyes. “I don’t understand…”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. Remember, you are the third of three-“
“Oh, not you as well!”
Another worried glance. “Something’s going to happen. A war, or…I don’t know. But only you can stop it. The fate of reality depends upon it.”
The room began to fade, and the Professor’s image became transparent like a ghost or a hologram.
“What?? How can I stop a war??”
The world was turning black. The lingering memory of Johan Roerich, now an almost invisible spectre, whispered, “You must find Albert Louverture before the Day of the Dead. You must get to Circe’s island…”
“What? How am I supposed to do that?”
“By airship…”
And he was gone. Molly blinked, and was back in her room, in front of her glowing computer screen. She reached out and experimentally touched the desk, finding it to be as solid and real as ever. The screen was a lifeless blue. Molly stared at it for a few seconds, before getting up and walking to the kitchen. She opened a cupboard, and took out a packet of pills. She popped one into her mouth, and sighed.
“I should really start taking these more regularly now that I've got a war to stop.”
Morning came, as rosy and cheerful as ever. Molly had not slept. Her eyes were sore, and her mind was addled. The light streamed into the room, and the moon was gone, and the sun tempered by the moderating hand of dawn. Molly's eyes started to itch. She rubbed them hard, and they became even more sore.
Without thinking anything in particular, she went to the computer and, still not thinking anything clearly, entered "Marissa Yaroslavich" into the search, and clicked the first link that came up, that of the Archaeology department at the University of Port-au-Prince. A picture appeared of a group of people, in the middle of which was a woman with a face that Molly recognised all to well; that of business tycoon and new Prime Minister of Haiti, Selena Eryx, only...not. After taking a deep gulp, Molly muttered under her breath,
"Oh."
53
So anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the Blue Cherry bar, an establishment that exists beyond the fringes of reality, and where all the drinks are blue (but not, as far as I can tell, made from cherries. Go figure).
We have two individuals, Miss Molly Nemoy and the good Professor Roerich. They were talking of Atibon, which I was not pleased about, to say the least. Roerich needs to learn some decorum.
The rain poured, and the streets were mere streaks of light and speed. Under the glow of neon, Molly shook her head and sighed.
“I have no idea what that means. Who is Atibon?”
Roerich looked doubtful for a moment. The door opened behind them, and a hooded figure entered the bar and sat down at an empty table. Roerich flicked a glance towards this new arrival, and then cleared his throat. He smiled a big fake smile, and leant his head towards Molly with his eyes set firmly on the seated figure.
“Time is short,” he whispered, his face contorting with panic. “You cannot stay here much longer.”
Molly started to laugh, but stopped when she saw the genuine fear in his eyes. “I don’t understand…”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. Remember, you are the third of three-“
“Oh, not you as well!”
Another worried glance. “Something’s going to happen. A war, or…I don’t know. But only you can stop it. The fate of reality depends upon it.”
The room began to fade, and the Professor’s image became transparent like a ghost or a hologram.
“What?? How can I stop a war??”
The world was turning black. The lingering memory of Johan Roerich, now an almost invisible spectre, whispered, “You must find Albert Louverture before the Day of the Dead. You must get to Circe’s island…”
“What? How am I supposed to do that?”
“By airship…”
And he was gone. Molly blinked, and was back in her room, in front of her glowing computer screen. She reached out and experimentally touched the desk, finding it to be as solid and real as ever. The screen was a lifeless blue. Molly stared at it for a few seconds, before getting up and walking to the kitchen. She opened a cupboard, and took out a packet of pills. She popped one into her mouth, and sighed.
“I should really start taking these more regularly now that I've got a war to stop.”
---
Morning came, as rosy and cheerful as ever. Molly had not slept. Her eyes were sore, and her mind was addled. The light streamed into the room, and the moon was gone, and the sun tempered by the moderating hand of dawn. Molly's eyes started to itch. She rubbed them hard, and they became even more sore.
Without thinking anything in particular, she went to the computer and, still not thinking anything clearly, entered "Marissa Yaroslavich" into the search, and clicked the first link that came up, that of the Archaeology department at the University of Port-au-Prince. A picture appeared of a group of people, in the middle of which was a woman with a face that Molly recognised all to well; that of business tycoon and new Prime Minister of Haiti, Selena Eryx, only...not. After taking a deep gulp, Molly muttered under her breath,
"Oh."