"My daughter, descended from the moon into the still womb of my wife, how was your nightly draft of darkness?" I looked up in time to see my father glide into the room, bearing the vicious bite marks of his newest boyfriend, a bibliomancer with a blood fetish.
"I slept fine, thanks, Fa, and you?" He cast a dark-shadowed eye over me. The shadows, like my eye color, weren't natural- I'd never seen my father without his make-up.
"I heard noises, most unlike your normal nightly echoes." Understanding the unspoken question, I shrugged.
"Just a mangy raccoon."
Fifteen minutes after the coffee machine had wailed out its accomplishment of production, the boyfriend came down. While Fa had bite marks all over his neck, the poor boyfriend had track marks from Fa's latest experiments and bruises on his neck, wrists, and ankles from the restraints. To be honest, the poor man looked a little shell-shocked. It seemed safe to assume that he'd been expecting to be considered the extreme, violent one, not Fa, but- I cast an eye over Fa, tipping a bit of opium into his coffee- he'd probably been wrong. Judging from the way the man collapsed into one of the armchairs next to the kitchen table, he'd definitely been wrong.
I eyed the man with dislike- he'd plopped down in my favorite chair.
"How'd you sleep, Trans?" The boyfriend- Trans, I guess?-looked around, his left eye twitching a little.
"It was intense." Fa turned to look at him, sipping at his coffee and growing progressively more sleepy-looking as he did so. Trans met his eyes, smudged black and dilating as the seconds ticked by, and licked his bloodied lips. "I, uh. Uh."
"My daughter spawned from lifeless womb and dead life, I desire to partake of the carnal pleasures of the flesh. Don't get rabies." Trans responded to Fa's words even before I had processed them, sweeping him off his skinny little feet and striding powerfully upstairs.
"I, uh..." Getting rabies from my 'raccoon' was the last thing on my mind, actually. It was the plainness of the statement that had confused me, though- clearly he must be pretty smitten with this Trans guy to actually fail to embroider-
"Was that your father?!" Exclaimed a voice that sounded suspiciously like- "Remington Zyplergauss, sorry I didn't introduce myself last night." I turned and- damn. Emo raccoon boi was standing merrily in my front door, bleeding on his leg from what looked like a plant tendril lash and possessing a spectacularly-bruised nose that, even as I watched, healed itself and lost its discoloration. His leg followed suit, and when it was finished he stepped forwards and smiled at me slowly.
"Uh... yes? What are you doing here? It's rude to just show up at somebody's house without calling first." Remington Zyplergauss spared a sarcastic look at the telephone box outside our garage. Both structures were being drowned, slowly, in wild roses.
"Your phone is... out of order. And I wanted to see you." He smiled again, but this time there was an edge of teeth to it. I raised an eyebrow, ready to hit him for his nerve, but somehow the honesty involved in baring his canines halted me. His teeth were long and thin, viper-like, and thoroughly out of place in a human mouth. Coming from me, Miss Born-From-a-Dead-Wife-and-Necromantic-Ri
tuals, this was something.
"...Next time, send a pigeon. They're in a coop out back. Take one when you leave." Remington Zyplergauss leaned forwards as if to move from his position against the door frame. "And by 'when you leave' I mean 'now'." He sent another smile my way, this one a little quirky as the sound of frantic thumping and strains of Nirvana floated down from above, along with a little plaster.
"See you in school. I'll send you messages with birds from now on, don't worry."
"The bird'll come right back here, so don't let it loose until you attach the letter."
"Sure thing. Thanks." He nodded a little, eyes lingering on my face as he turned, and left.
It was only after I had watched him head back down the road to town that I realized, due to the nature of our birds, that if he was going to be sending me message
s, he'd be coming around for birds to do that with.
I smacked myself in the forehead and began to get the food for the plants ready. Nice way to tell him to get lost, Chastity.
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sleepy
calm