Corner o’ Stories

[Eilonwy Solstice]

I’ve chosen to post this, even though things are still happening. I suppose to keep myself and my thoughts occupied.


“Corner o’ Stories.” It was an interesting name to an interesting local diner I had recently begun patronizing for a number of reasons. I assured the owner, Stanley, that he didn’t have to pay me for the part-time hours I sang there, and he, in turn, assured me that he owed me anyway for all I’d done and that it was the Stories’ privilege to have me there, so he insisted on paying me for the time I spent each weekend singing. The free money didn’t hurt, his business could afford to pay me, I enjoyed doing the alternate atmosphere, and all the regular patrons knew I was “taken” and didn’t drink alcohol.

There was no reason to stay away. It was that and doing what I enjoyed, mingling with a crowd that accepted me for what I was, or staying home at nights with just Spriggan for company. And she enjoys roaming around after twilight, so half the time I’m alone.

That night the crowd was light and mottled, speckled with new and old people alike, and far louder than usual. Laughter and the clash of thick glass pounding on rough, wooden tables were interspersed liberally with rude comments and calls for more drink. It was one of my days off, so I ignored the noise and sat in ‘my’ corner: a little, out-of-the-way table Stanley left open for me to work on crafts, think, and other little things I could do just as well at home. Stanley didn’t mind the wood shavings I left behind with a few of my projects.

I was finishing a few last touches to a small bust of face I had been seeing recently in my dreams when the figure approached me and tapped me lightly on the knee.

“Hey, you’re that chick that sings here on weekends, aren’t ya?”

I tilted my face up but didn’t answer. I generally don’t respond to ‘chick.’

“Chaney Vargas,” he mentioned and paused, probably holding out his hand for me to shake. When I nodded mutely, he pressed on. “I’m surprised nobody’s claimed you yet. You don’t have to sit alone, you know.”

“It helps me think,” I finally replied, going through my shortened hair with my fingers a few more times than necessary, making it a point to show off the fabulously wrought silver ring more detailed in its craftsmanship than the One Ring. Or so I fancied. I won’t tell you guys where it came from, but it always stays on the ring finger of my left hand.

He never did get the drift, but eventually he got to his point.

“I’m a novelist in the process of writing a book for publication by the Centerpiece Truth. Ever heard of it?”

“No, I haven’t,” I replied warily, something about his tone didn’t play right to my ears.

“It’s a monthly column that deals in the documentation of events within a specified region that abounds in the accredited claims of the citizens of that locality involving extramundane activities that the public in general must be made aware of despite belief to the contrary.”

He said all this with the same speed of a commercial citing the side effects of Celibrex.

“In other words, you work for a tabloid.” I tried to take the bite out of my declaration.

“Well . . . technically that’s true,” he replied, trying to muster the steam my clarification had taken away. “But . . . but . . . you agree that making aware the public of the United States of America to the extramundane is extremely important, don’t you?”

“I think unmasking the supernatural is very important,” I kept my tone neutral.

“Good. I was wondering if you could help me on a little exposé I’m working on.”

“What exposé is that?” I asked.

“The truth about curing vampirism.”

My breath jarred in my throat. It was too late to play ignorant. The sound of my gasp was clearly heard. So I’d have to sidestep my way through this . . . if I could.

“What makes you think I know anything about vampires, Mr. Vargas?” I took such a deep breath my throat hurt. “And what angle did you want to write this article from?”

“I think we already know the answers to both those questions, Miss Solstice,” his cheerful tone had hardened into an arrowhead’s intensity, and I flinched involuntarily as he leaned close and breathed into my face, an unseen cloud of garlic billowing in. “Why don’t we just cut the bull and get to business? Meet me at midnight. I have a little guarantee here that I’m sure will bring you there.”

He then gave me an address and began walking away.

“Why don’t we meet at noon . . .?” My suggestion trailed off. It was too loud and too crowded for him to possibly hear me. Chagrinned, I set back to work, patting the table when I didn’t immediately find the wooden sculpture . . . just the left over shavings.

When I asked Stanley about it, he mentioned he had seen a man walking out with my sculpture, but he had assumed I had sold it, since I had conducted business in here before.

I’d invested hours into that thing . . . I could do it again, but it wouldn’t be easy. And . . . well, for those of you have gone through this sort of thing, you know how annoying it is. I wanted it back, and I wanted to ask him a few questions, too.

Besides, he seemed . . . familiar.

Stanley gave me a description of the man readily enough, and I went home and prepared for the . . . “date.”

[Eilonwy Solstice]

I suppose I should write up another section of this, if only to keep my mind occupied. We’re in the waiting stage now, so while I can’t travel anywhere just yet, if I can do something else to help someone, please call.


The hall was small and cramped, the walls cracked and peeling plaster, and the carpet old and musty. In short, the small amount of research I had done on it had been woefully inaccurate. But since this section of the apartment did serve as an impromptu frat house.

Chaney Vargas was late. Twenty-five minutes late. I had my cell phone out and ready to call a cab—I had already called the police about the theft, though they could do nothing, yet—when I heard the person approaching down the hall.

Not Chaney’s body size. Somebody smaller.

“Uhh . . . can I help you um, ma’am?”

But definitely male. And tired, his question punctuated by yawns.

“Yes, I’m searching for Chaney Vargas? He has something of mine, and I’d like it back, please.”

“Chaney Vargas? Sorry, I don’t know that name . . .”

It was at that point that I got really confused and suspicious. The boy introduced himself as Quentin and offered to help me, citing several aggravating episodes in his own day in an attempt to commiserate with me. I played along in hopes of getting information. His attempts to flirt with me were juvenile and a necessary evil, but harmless. Another fifteen minutes were spent getting the range of topics slowly revolving back to him.

“You sound tired, Quentin,” I observed. “I’m sorry I kept you up. I better be on my way.” I kept the annoyance out of my voice.

“No problem,” he stifled a yawn. “It’s not every night I get to chat it up with pretty ladies. I’m gonna be waiting for another hour or two.”

“Why?”

“Oh, my roomie borrowed this from a friend of his in art class, and he wanted to return it. But something came up, so he asked me to give it to her.”

That caught my attention. “It wouldn’t happen to be a wooden bust, would it?” I asked carefully.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. He had never actually asked if I was blind and I had never actually told him I was, but he seemed to infer it from my actions.

“May I?” I held out my hand.

Quentin was more than willing to let me study it. It wasn’t surprising to feel my own craftsmanship beneath my probing fingers, but it did make me wonder just what Chaney’s game was. When I told Quentin the bust belonged to me, he readily acceded to my claim, relinquishing it without fuss or battle.

“Quentin, what is your roommate’s name?” I asked as casually as possible, stowing my work into the bag I had brought just for the occasion.

He gave me a name.

“And does he . . .” I hesitated only a moment, but proceeded onward; cautiously. “Does he . . . have an interest in vampires?”

“Oh, man,” Quentin groaned. “He’s dragging you into that, too?”

[Kolya]

Any psychometrics on the sculpture? Might help you get the upper hand.

[Razor]

Agreed Koyla.

Also, did you scan him down? Did you pick up anything with your enhanced senses?

[Eilonwy Solstice]

Yes, I tried that, Kolya; thank you for the suggestion. It didn’t help too much, though it did reveal some . . . unpleasant pains about myself that I was trying to forget. However . . . maybe it did help, because I saw something else. I’m just not entirely sure what, or if I could recognize it or let someone else recognize it if I saw it again.

I . . . saw a gathering of people, but their faces and bodies were blurred, as though they stood behind a steamed, stained glass window. One large man—he could easily be Chaney Vargas—stood in the middle of the gathered circle of people. He held my sculpture in his hands and was showing it to the gathering. His motions were very animated, excited even. However, it became impossibly blurry after that, only my sculpture remaining clear; the babble of voices I heard was unfamiliar, just a crowd of voices. It was impossible to tell how many people there were or who they were.

I didn’t get a chance to look at him through my psychic senses, no. But I did get the impression that he was . . . less than likeable.

Sorry. I’ll relate more. My conversation with Quentin was a little more enlightening than my psychometric experience.



“What do you mean, ‘dragging me into that, too’?” I demanded, swinging the loaded bag over my shoulder and facing him as best I could.

“Well,” he hedged, clearly uneasy with the subject, “a few weeks ago, he had this project for a Lit class. He chose vampires, and one thing led to another . . . he started calling around about ‘real life’ vampires. Groups, cults, people into that sort of thing.”

My breath fell sideways in my throat. “And?”

“And . . . well, you can’t really believe this stuff, can you?”

“My beliefs are irrelevant on the matter,” I replied. “I called the police earlier today to let them know that this—” I lifted my bag and patted the bulk of the carved face I’d been seeing in my dreams—“was stolen. Is this the only time he’s done this, or has there been other instances?”

Quentin didn’t answer.

“Tell me what happened, Quentin,” I begged.

“He—he—he’s in trouble, isn’t he?” Quentin guessed. “He’s in danger?”

I nodded. “I’m afraid so.” I didn’t know why I thought so; I rarely do. But my feelings told me that it was thus.

“He—a group contacted him,” Quentin stuttered. “Started feeding him books about vampire lore and stuff like that. He thinks they’re—vampires and stuff—are real, and . . . and that . . . well, he’s doing a ton of research on them. I don’t know why.

“Of course, he’s always been into weird mojo,” Quentin hurriedly said, misinterpreting whatever look I had on my face. “So that’s not new. He’s always been a thrill seeker. He’s always going to all sorts of crazy websites. Sometimes I have to kick him off to do homework, but lately I’ve been going to the library because he’s been . . . difficult. He’s become so much more into it.”

I was listening with a quarter of an ear, which was enough for me. I was trying to make sense of what I’d heard, and more importantly, what it all meant to Chaney. I had several ideas, but no proof. Further queries on my part were fruitless. Quentin was a friend of Chaney’s, but didn’t get into . . . “our” stuff. He insisted that Chaney had always valued privacy, and that characteristic had only intensified with the new interest he had taken to the supernatural.

Quentin was worried enough that he asked for my help in getting Chaney to a doctor, and I agreed.

Nobody has seen Chaney in four days. I was the last one to contact him; he had left a phone message ‘explaining’ the situation with my sculpture. All a lie, of course.

My next goal was to “see” some of these books he had been given. Perhaps they held a clue.

[Razor]

Interesting.

[Eilonwy Solstice]

To say the least. I’m still waiting on the superintendent’s permission on letting me visit the dorm after hours, or else I’d have more to tell.

[Holister]

Watch yourself Wie, this screams trap. Especially with everything that has been going on round here lately.

[Eilonwy Solstice]

I know, Ben. You too.

[Holister]

Vampires cults, random people just contacting you out of the blue, strang stuff going on across the boards.

Khavik has to involved in this one. I'll put money on it Wie.

[Eilonwy Solstice]

I don’t know, Ben. I’m not a gambling kind of girl. Well, in the money sense, at least.

[Kolya]

It might be better for you.

Stay on guard and let me know if there's anything I can do to help you.

[Kelly]

Watch yourself out there all alone girl. We'ld miss you if something happened to you.

[Eilonwy Solstice]

I will. Thanks, guys.

[Holister]

What else happened? Don't keep us in suspence.

[Eilonwy Solstice]

Easy, Ben. Things are a little beyond my control, as of now. I have an appointment with the superintendent tonight, and if I “pass,” he’ll let me into Quentin’s room. I’ll post about that event later, after it happens.

[Holister]

Just break in, you have probable cause.

[Kolya]

A cop suggesting illegal activity to a civilian...?

[Holister]

Around here its common.

[Holister]

Just don't get caught.

[Kolya]

For example? I'm not seeing much criminal activity from people here.

[Holister]

Nemesis for one.

Illegal firearms possession for another.

Discharging firearms within city limits.

Hunting out of season.

Impeding a criminal investigation.

Kidnapping

Torture

Extortion

The list goes on.

But its all for the greater good right?

[Kolya]

If you use Nemesis to illustrate common Society behaviour, well, I can't argue with that "logic".

Most of those charges have no evidence whatsoever anyway.

Besides, shooting a supernatural monster is for the greater good. Breaking and entering a private residence isn't comparable, in my opinion.

Anyway, I don't want to muck up her thread with this back and forth.

[Holister]

Billy J.

Nuff' said.

[Kolya]

Once again, can't argue with that logic. He reads like a snot-nosed kid making a lot of stuff up. In case you're interested, so did Nemesis. None of your examples are long-time members with any kind of credibility. So you really don't have a leg to stand on, although you clearly think you do. And none of it justifies your encouragement of illegal beahviour.

Anyway, back to Eilonwy. It's not like she is just hanging out sipping tea and listening to audiobooks twiddling her thumbs. I've been in contact with her about some of the things she's working on and her time is filled with a lot of very hard work. Perhaps a little too much work. In any case, assume she had the desire, she doesn't have the time for breaking into places.

[Holister]

Bert tortured some guy in the woods with pliers and a blowtorch.

But I have to take into consideration that Wie isn't Cee anymore and simply can't do those things any longer anyhow.

[Kolya]

One-off incidents here and there doesn't mean it's common behaviour.

[Holister]

The use of of unauthorized explosives; the possession of illegal firearms and ammunition; assault & battery; breaking & entering; theft; computer hacking; stalking; lude & illicit behavior; deprevation of a minor; concealing evidence; attempted murder; impeding an police investigation; the list goes on.

Is it true; YES.

Is it distasteful; YES.

Is it necassary; YES.

Im a LEO, and I am the first to admit that with what we do, conventional law simply does not cover the things we must deal with. Sometimes we must work outside the law in order to achieve the greater good, as disturbing as that might be, its a simple fact.

We do work within the boundries of the law when we can, but at times it simply can not be helped. As an LEO I at least have the law on my side, however I even have my hands tied at times. I know how far I am willing to go, some of us however are willing to go a little further.

But back to the thread at hand; good luck Wie and be careful. You don't know what lies ahead. This could all be a set up and you know how those usually end up.

[Kolya]

I guess that I haven't been paying attention.

[Holister]

Its easy not to notice when its considered to normal flow of things. But your a foriegn national who works for the Russian government who at times is assigned to work here in the US(???) for reasons unknown.

Do I ask why; no.

I just go with it cause I trust you so I turn a blind eye.

But back to Wie......please keep us informed.