Momma has encouraged me to express myself here on this site by telling stories. I have a few but I'm not comfortable sharing many of them.
There is one though, that I think would be okay to tell. It was my very first mission. It was very hard back then when I was just a kid but it would be a lot easier now. Still, I guess it's true what they say. You always remember your first.
The mission background was that there was a predator. What got us involved is that it had managed to kill one of my sisters and her handler. They hadn't been after it but it had perceived them as a threat and attacked. The Foundation resented having its goals interfered with and its property destroyed.
Our mission was revenge but not to avenge.
Some of the other girls and their handlers had tracked the beast down to New Orleans but were instructed not to engage. Not only was the beast considered too dangerous for them, they wanted to test my skills and abilities live in the field. My handler was excited about it. I think that if he was successful, he was sure to get some special reward. I imagine he did.
I don't remember him now. Not his name, code name or even his face. Like all my past handlers, I can only remember that I had this vague person as my handler. I can remember things we did together, training and missions and so forth. But whenever I try to envision them or when my memory overlaps with them, there is always a haze that gets in the way.
I do remember that I didn't always enjoy his training.
We arrived just in time for the carnival season. My handler took me to see the first of the parades that would be occurring nightly for the next couple of weeks. I wasn't there to indulge in the festivities however. Part of the first nights objective was to get the lay of the land, to recce the operational zone. While it wasn't explicitly stated to me, I also understood that I was also being tested. They wanted to see how I would be able to handle large crowds.
I remember feeling all that energy around me. It was... exhilarating. Intoxicating even. If you could get all those people working together for a single ritual... why you could do almost anything, I think. But I couldn't allow myself to become distracted. I had a job to do and it was important to me that I succeed. Like my handler, I was promised a special reward if I was successful and performed well.
We walked through the crowd, holding hands. When I sensed magic, I would squeeze his hand once and indicate the direction, number and approximate number of sources. When I sense something supernatural, which was what we were actually looking for, I would squeeze twice. As my sensitivity to the supernatural was less refined, I could only tell that it was in the area and couldn't pin point it like I could with magic. That was okay though. This creature would register to both my senses.
I was surprised how many 'hits' I got, just wandering around. All of them were false positives, being either magic or supernatural but not both. Still it surprised me that there was so much activity. Then I realized that if the energy of that time and place made me feel charged up, it was likely that others who were similar to me would as well.
Most of the 'hits' I made didn't notice me. I guess they didn't so much power in such a small package (I was about four inches shorter then-still just a kid, really). In order to fit in, I was calling my handler daddy so we probably seemed pretty normal and non-threatening.
But as often happens when I'm out when and where there is a lot of energy, I got noticed by one of the dark things. I noticed it too, of course. It pinged as supernatural but not as magic. It was pale and gaunt. It looked at me with hungry eyes. It was a dark thing and it was a predator.
Like me.
I indicated and with almost too much enthuasim, my handler looked at the dark thing. Then he shook his head, "not the one we're looking for. Keep looking."
Nodding, we went about our way. Soon enough though, even my handler noticed that it was stalking us.
"Cynthia, can you identify it?" He asked me in a hushed tone after putting a little bit of distance between us.
"There's a high probability that the creature stalking us now is a vampire." I informed him, anxious to test my abilities the way I had been trained to.
"Alright." I suppose he nodded or gestured in some other positive manner, perhaps sensing my excitement. "I need to you pretend to get separated from me and lost, just like we practiced. We'll track you and support you if you get in over your head, okay?"
"Okay daddy." I said with a giggle. I couldn't help it. It was like all the games but finally for real. And in such a charged atmosphere, I could hardly wait to get started.
We walked for awhile longer. Then I saw some pretty beads discarded on the road, and I thought that maybe a normal girl might dart away from her dad to grab them. So that's what I did. Then I looked around and moved back to where I had left my dad but of course he had already moved on, 'looking' for me.
From there, it really wasn't hard to get lost in the crowd.
It really wasn't a surprise when a cold, bony hand fell upon my shoulder. "Hello young lady, you seem to be lost." The voice was warm and smooth, it made me want to listen to it. "Do you need help?"
I looked up at it and made sure I widened my eyes and pushed out my lower lip, letting it quiver slightly. I nodded once and said, "yes mister."
He took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling my scent as though I was a bottle of fine wine he had just opened and was getting ready to consume. His thin lips curled up into a smile, "I think I saw where your father went dear, come with me."
Like a spider, his fingers crawled down my arm and took my hand.
We walked into the night, two predators readying to set off our ambushes.
Bad Wolf
Re: Bad Wolf
It was no surprise when he pulled me into an alley way. Nor was I startled when his hand went from my hand to my wrist. He turned to face me with a wicked smile, "I'm going to enjoy drinking you."
"Oh dear." I giggled. "I'm afraid I'm not a juice box, Mister."
His smile continued to carry menace, possibly assuming that I didn't realize the peril of the situation. "My dear, to me, that's all you are."
My giggles continued. "How are you going to drink me then, Mister?"
His lips parted, revealing his fangs. "With these."
"My grandma, what big teeth you have!" I exclaimed between giggles.
"Enough!" His other hand grabbed me by the front of my shirt and then slammed me against the wall of the building behind me. Savouring the moment, he leaned down and slowly pierced the skin of my neck. A single drop of blood dripped down.
My tithe now against my skin, I was now ready to work my magic. The foolish creature had left one arm free and did nothing to prevent me from moving. Seconds later, my spell was weaved. I could tell it had worked when his entire body stiffened. "Don't you move now!" I said and then started to giggle again.
Of course his fangs were still lodged in my neck. So I wiggled a bit, letting some more blood spill out onto my skin. Again I gathered eldritch energies and brought it into myself. Filled with power and strength, I started to pull his fingers apart so I could drop down to the ground. Only his eyes could move and they followed my descent.
I reached up and patted his cheek. "This is my first time so I don't actually know how long it will take. So I guess we'll learn together."
Then with that same hand, I squeezed a bit more blood from the wound he had inflicted on me. I giggled at the irony that he had provided me with what I needed. I knew just the spell to cast next.
Over his head formed a small circle of light. Actual sunlight shone down on my would be attacker. I understand that when exposed to the full power of the sun, vampires vanish right away. But this sunlight was weaker. So it took longer. Starting with the top of his head, he started to turn to ash and then blew away. Watching it carefully, I saw the pain in his eyes at least until they too blew away. Briefly I wondered if he would feel the continuing agony until all of him had turned to ash.
When it was done, not even his shoes were left. There was barely a scuff on the ground where he had been standing. As the last of the ash blew away, I felt the release of power from his demise and took it into myself, replenishing my stores. In fact, I had some to spare.
My handlers hand came to rest on my shoulder. "You did good Cynthia. You did good."
I couldn't stop smiling.
"Oh dear." I giggled. "I'm afraid I'm not a juice box, Mister."
His smile continued to carry menace, possibly assuming that I didn't realize the peril of the situation. "My dear, to me, that's all you are."
My giggles continued. "How are you going to drink me then, Mister?"
His lips parted, revealing his fangs. "With these."
"My grandma, what big teeth you have!" I exclaimed between giggles.
"Enough!" His other hand grabbed me by the front of my shirt and then slammed me against the wall of the building behind me. Savouring the moment, he leaned down and slowly pierced the skin of my neck. A single drop of blood dripped down.
My tithe now against my skin, I was now ready to work my magic. The foolish creature had left one arm free and did nothing to prevent me from moving. Seconds later, my spell was weaved. I could tell it had worked when his entire body stiffened. "Don't you move now!" I said and then started to giggle again.
Of course his fangs were still lodged in my neck. So I wiggled a bit, letting some more blood spill out onto my skin. Again I gathered eldritch energies and brought it into myself. Filled with power and strength, I started to pull his fingers apart so I could drop down to the ground. Only his eyes could move and they followed my descent.
I reached up and patted his cheek. "This is my first time so I don't actually know how long it will take. So I guess we'll learn together."
Then with that same hand, I squeezed a bit more blood from the wound he had inflicted on me. I giggled at the irony that he had provided me with what I needed. I knew just the spell to cast next.
Over his head formed a small circle of light. Actual sunlight shone down on my would be attacker. I understand that when exposed to the full power of the sun, vampires vanish right away. But this sunlight was weaker. So it took longer. Starting with the top of his head, he started to turn to ash and then blew away. Watching it carefully, I saw the pain in his eyes at least until they too blew away. Briefly I wondered if he would feel the continuing agony until all of him had turned to ash.
When it was done, not even his shoes were left. There was barely a scuff on the ground where he had been standing. As the last of the ash blew away, I felt the release of power from his demise and took it into myself, replenishing my stores. In fact, I had some to spare.
My handlers hand came to rest on my shoulder. "You did good Cynthia. You did good."
I couldn't stop smiling.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
As nice as it was to prove myself and validate my existence, this was merely a diversion from our true purpose. A purpose that was not achieved that night.
Our search was hampered by the fact that the full moon had happened the day before we arrived. There would only be a few days more that the creature would be forced into its true form at night. After that, she would be just one face amongst millions. Of course, if anyone could pick this particular needle out of a haystack, it was me. There was a certain amount of hope that she might get sloppy once she had control of her shape changing powers once more.
There was also a Plan B for us to pursue. While yes, Mardi Gras in New Orleans would be an excellent place for a creature like her to hide, she had come here go ground here for a reason. We were certain that she had a contact that could provide her safe haven in the area. Find that contact, and it would be easier to find our target.
We didn’t know exactly who the contact was, but we had some solid leads to check on. That sort of leg work was best left to the other girls and their handlers. I was still needed on the streets to sort the hay and find the needle.
Unfortunately I wasn’t having a lot of luck in that regard. Where ever she was, she was staying off the streets. Well, that killed the theory that she might try to go someplace public where she could both blend in and we might be discouraged from openly attacking. We were quite prepared to do just that however. The Foundation has found that after a shooting occurs, no one suspects the crying little girl holding a violin case or the older brother/father figure offering her comfort.
So it took a couple of nights but eventually the other girls found the contact. It was decided that I would move in to make the kill.
The place was in the French Quarter. It was an old building with a bar on the first level and some apartments above it. Our objective was on the top floor. My senses told me that there were two magic capable presences and that the supernatural was also present. I could tell the magic was on the top floor but couldn’t pin down the supernatural presence.
My handler decided we would go in through the front door.
The bouncer had other ideas. “She can’t come in here.”
I bit down on a capsule that I had in my mouth, filling my cheeks was a coppery taste. As crimson washed over my tongue and teeth, I licked the bottom of my upper lip. Then I drew the power from my handler through the contact I had with him from holding his hand. “Let me in.” was the only audible portion of my spell. Then with a giggle I added, “Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow the place in!” Sometimes a little humour can offset the natural urge to negativity a subject has when you overwrite commands onto their brain.
He smiled in a way that suggested he was indulging a precocious youth and then stepped aside, “try to stay out of trouble, alright?”
“Sure thing, mister.” I said over my shoulder as I waved at him.
None of the other partiers seemed to mind that a child was in their midst. I wonder if they would have been more perturbed if they realized that I was also a soldier on a mission? After all, child killers are something that happens in Africa, right? Not something anyone here in the good ole US of A should be worried about. Wilful blindness has always been one of my greatest allies.
The stairs up were in a back room that my handler used his abilities to gain us access to. Ancient wood creaked and groaned in protest to my handler’s foot falls. I seem to recall thinking that he always made too much noise on these sorts of ops. Or was that another one? I mix them up, sometimes.
In any case, the door to the apartment was warded of course. I pricked myself and let the blood fall upon the invisible mystic symbols and chanted. I could feel the resistance pushing back against me. It felt as though they would win when suddenly they stopped and the barriers were broken.
On the other side, I could feel them. Two powerful presences and by now, I knew they must feel me as well. From under the door, I saw no lights on. So I placed my hand on the floor and let my shadow take a look underneath for me.
Inside was a very old woman in a rocking chair. Back and forth she rocked, her eyes on the door. And while she rocked, she knitted.
At her feet was a wolf. A wolf that was black and shaggy and bigger than any wolf that has walked the earth since prehistoric times. There was no doubt about it, it was one of the dark things.
“Good evening Cynthia.” It said in a masculine voice loud enough for even my handler to hear. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Our search was hampered by the fact that the full moon had happened the day before we arrived. There would only be a few days more that the creature would be forced into its true form at night. After that, she would be just one face amongst millions. Of course, if anyone could pick this particular needle out of a haystack, it was me. There was a certain amount of hope that she might get sloppy once she had control of her shape changing powers once more.
There was also a Plan B for us to pursue. While yes, Mardi Gras in New Orleans would be an excellent place for a creature like her to hide, she had come here go ground here for a reason. We were certain that she had a contact that could provide her safe haven in the area. Find that contact, and it would be easier to find our target.
We didn’t know exactly who the contact was, but we had some solid leads to check on. That sort of leg work was best left to the other girls and their handlers. I was still needed on the streets to sort the hay and find the needle.
Unfortunately I wasn’t having a lot of luck in that regard. Where ever she was, she was staying off the streets. Well, that killed the theory that she might try to go someplace public where she could both blend in and we might be discouraged from openly attacking. We were quite prepared to do just that however. The Foundation has found that after a shooting occurs, no one suspects the crying little girl holding a violin case or the older brother/father figure offering her comfort.
So it took a couple of nights but eventually the other girls found the contact. It was decided that I would move in to make the kill.
The place was in the French Quarter. It was an old building with a bar on the first level and some apartments above it. Our objective was on the top floor. My senses told me that there were two magic capable presences and that the supernatural was also present. I could tell the magic was on the top floor but couldn’t pin down the supernatural presence.
My handler decided we would go in through the front door.
The bouncer had other ideas. “She can’t come in here.”
I bit down on a capsule that I had in my mouth, filling my cheeks was a coppery taste. As crimson washed over my tongue and teeth, I licked the bottom of my upper lip. Then I drew the power from my handler through the contact I had with him from holding his hand. “Let me in.” was the only audible portion of my spell. Then with a giggle I added, “Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow the place in!” Sometimes a little humour can offset the natural urge to negativity a subject has when you overwrite commands onto their brain.
He smiled in a way that suggested he was indulging a precocious youth and then stepped aside, “try to stay out of trouble, alright?”
“Sure thing, mister.” I said over my shoulder as I waved at him.
None of the other partiers seemed to mind that a child was in their midst. I wonder if they would have been more perturbed if they realized that I was also a soldier on a mission? After all, child killers are something that happens in Africa, right? Not something anyone here in the good ole US of A should be worried about. Wilful blindness has always been one of my greatest allies.
The stairs up were in a back room that my handler used his abilities to gain us access to. Ancient wood creaked and groaned in protest to my handler’s foot falls. I seem to recall thinking that he always made too much noise on these sorts of ops. Or was that another one? I mix them up, sometimes.
In any case, the door to the apartment was warded of course. I pricked myself and let the blood fall upon the invisible mystic symbols and chanted. I could feel the resistance pushing back against me. It felt as though they would win when suddenly they stopped and the barriers were broken.
On the other side, I could feel them. Two powerful presences and by now, I knew they must feel me as well. From under the door, I saw no lights on. So I placed my hand on the floor and let my shadow take a look underneath for me.
Inside was a very old woman in a rocking chair. Back and forth she rocked, her eyes on the door. And while she rocked, she knitted.
At her feet was a wolf. A wolf that was black and shaggy and bigger than any wolf that has walked the earth since prehistoric times. There was no doubt about it, it was one of the dark things.
“Good evening Cynthia.” It said in a masculine voice loud enough for even my handler to hear. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
Needless to say, I was surprised. Not so much that this wolf could talk but that it knew my name. Many things that look normal can talk. But I was pretty sure I had never met this creature before in my life. Likewise, the old woman seemed surprised at what the Wolf was saying (didn't seem to me that she was actually surprised that it was speaking).
"Are these friends that have come at this late hour?" The old woman asked both of us and the wolf.
The wolf chuckled, "They are not your friends, old woman. But neither are they my enemies. They will kill you if they can and I will not be compelled to help you in the least."
My handler kicked in the door. I was crouching so he opened fire over my head. I joined him, firing my own compact pistol. Our rounds were deflected by a mystic barrier the woman had protecting her.
True to his words, the wolf did not so much as lift a paw. It was neither helping nor deterring either the old woman or us.
My handler went for the pouch I knew held the flash bangs so I instinctively ducted back behind the wall. As the light and noise filled the room, I pricked myself. Barely feeling the pain due to my adrenaline high, I prepared my next spell.
When we both went around the corner, the wolf had it's paws over hits ears and eyes and seemed to be in a bit of pain. The old woman had fallen over backwards in her chair and was still disoriented. That meant she would be unable to cast which gave me the advantage. I weaved darkness and magic together and then the shadows themselves began to attack and pummel the old woman.
Another prick and I was ready to cast my next spell. I unweaved her protection magics. Then I gave my handler the signal and he opened fire again. This time his shots found their mark, scattering blood against the floor and the back wall. I could still sense her though, so she wasn't dead yet. I sprinted into the room and vaulted over the chair to land on her. My hands met her blood. The shadows assailing her ignored me as I cast one more spell. A bolt of blackness shot from my outstretched hand and into her face. As her aura began to go out, I collected her ebbing power and took it into myself, recharging past my normal levels.
"Who are you? Who are you with?" My handler was asking of the wolf.
"Easy, easy." The wolf said blinking the last of the dots from its eyes before standing up. "We're on the same side here. In fact I owe you one. That contract was starting to be a hassle."
"In writing please." I paused to smear more of the old woman's blood on my hands before standing and turning to face the wolf.
It's head snapped in my direction. "What?"
"You owe us. I'll have it in writing." I opened my purse and pulled out a prepared scroll. I also pulled out a long sharp silver needle. "Your true name, signed in your blood of course."
"You can't be serious!" It growled.
"You must realize that I am currently super charged from the death of an experienced witch. You must also know that I can't hold that power forever, which is why you're attempting to stall." I pointed out to it as I started to lay the scroll out before it. "Be advised that I am not bluffing and will force the issue while I still have the capacity to do so."
The wolf looked to my handler. He shrugged. "Standard procedure, buddy. The boss is all for allies but he's even more for ensuring allies back his plays." Then he glanced at his watch, "you'd better hurry. Cynthia's patience training isn't as far along as I'd like."
"Fine." It barked out before grasping the silver needle and pricking itself. Then it signed on the dotted line in the language of Hades. "There'll be a reckoning brat."
"Shall you test yourself against me now?" I asked, betraying no emotion.
It looked between me and my handler. "Another time." Then it leapt out the window.
"Alright." My handler said. "Let's clean this place up and ready the ambush."
"Are these friends that have come at this late hour?" The old woman asked both of us and the wolf.
The wolf chuckled, "They are not your friends, old woman. But neither are they my enemies. They will kill you if they can and I will not be compelled to help you in the least."
My handler kicked in the door. I was crouching so he opened fire over my head. I joined him, firing my own compact pistol. Our rounds were deflected by a mystic barrier the woman had protecting her.
True to his words, the wolf did not so much as lift a paw. It was neither helping nor deterring either the old woman or us.
My handler went for the pouch I knew held the flash bangs so I instinctively ducted back behind the wall. As the light and noise filled the room, I pricked myself. Barely feeling the pain due to my adrenaline high, I prepared my next spell.
When we both went around the corner, the wolf had it's paws over hits ears and eyes and seemed to be in a bit of pain. The old woman had fallen over backwards in her chair and was still disoriented. That meant she would be unable to cast which gave me the advantage. I weaved darkness and magic together and then the shadows themselves began to attack and pummel the old woman.
Another prick and I was ready to cast my next spell. I unweaved her protection magics. Then I gave my handler the signal and he opened fire again. This time his shots found their mark, scattering blood against the floor and the back wall. I could still sense her though, so she wasn't dead yet. I sprinted into the room and vaulted over the chair to land on her. My hands met her blood. The shadows assailing her ignored me as I cast one more spell. A bolt of blackness shot from my outstretched hand and into her face. As her aura began to go out, I collected her ebbing power and took it into myself, recharging past my normal levels.
"Who are you? Who are you with?" My handler was asking of the wolf.
"Easy, easy." The wolf said blinking the last of the dots from its eyes before standing up. "We're on the same side here. In fact I owe you one. That contract was starting to be a hassle."
"In writing please." I paused to smear more of the old woman's blood on my hands before standing and turning to face the wolf.
It's head snapped in my direction. "What?"
"You owe us. I'll have it in writing." I opened my purse and pulled out a prepared scroll. I also pulled out a long sharp silver needle. "Your true name, signed in your blood of course."
"You can't be serious!" It growled.
"You must realize that I am currently super charged from the death of an experienced witch. You must also know that I can't hold that power forever, which is why you're attempting to stall." I pointed out to it as I started to lay the scroll out before it. "Be advised that I am not bluffing and will force the issue while I still have the capacity to do so."
The wolf looked to my handler. He shrugged. "Standard procedure, buddy. The boss is all for allies but he's even more for ensuring allies back his plays." Then he glanced at his watch, "you'd better hurry. Cynthia's patience training isn't as far along as I'd like."
"Fine." It barked out before grasping the silver needle and pricking itself. Then it signed on the dotted line in the language of Hades. "There'll be a reckoning brat."
"Shall you test yourself against me now?" I asked, betraying no emotion.
It looked between me and my handler. "Another time." Then it leapt out the window.
"Alright." My handler said. "Let's clean this place up and ready the ambush."
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
We expected our target to make contact with the old woman shortly. So we only had a little time to prepare ourselves in the room. Naturally the old woman's body had to be removed and her blood cleaned up. The other thing we had to do was set up a decoy to pose as the old woman. For that purpose we brought up a disguise specialist.
As for the conduct of the ambush, that would be up to my handler and me. I hid under the bed while he hid in the closet. I had several packets of the old woman's blood that were mixed with anti-coagulant agents so I wouldn't have to worry about pricking myself during the confrontation to come. As an additional precaution, I was wrapped in shadows, further hidden from view.
Unfortunately for us, something had tipped our target off to our presence. That became evident when without warning, a flash bang appeared suddenly in the middle of the room. The only clue to its appearance was the sudden activation of my magical senses. My handler was sufficiently protected behind the closet door but both the decoy and myself felt the full effect of the noise and light.
Thus I was unable to defend the decoy when a four and half foot man burst in through the window, swinging a battle axe in one hand and a large calibre pistol in the other. With a solid thunk, he sunk the axe into our helpless decoy. She didn't even have a chance for a last utterance.
However, her sacrifice wasn't entirely in vain. She was above me on the bed. Thus the axe that cleaved her, penetrated all the way through the bed and stopped only millimetres from my nose. Her blood dripped down onto my face and I was able to absorb her dying essence as I was starting to recover from the assault on my senses.
Meanwhile, my handler wasn't standing idle. He burst out of the closet, firing his SMG, riddling the back of the strange axe wielding midget. The force of the rounds pushed our attacker off balance and forward onto the bed and now dead decoy.
With the assailant distracted, I was free to roll out from under the bed and join the fray. None too soon either, as I could sense a quickly approaching magical presence. The approach suggested it would attempt to enter through the door way. Probably hoping that our current assailant would be keeping us busy and distracted.
Not a surprising assumption as that same assailant was already rolling off the bed and flinging himself at my handler. His bulk suggested that he was wearing some heavy duty body armor under his long coat. That was confirmed as my handler riddled his front with more rounds. Despite this, our attacker was moving with surprising speed.
Despite my desire to engage the primary target which by now I had also identified as being supernatural in nature, I was compelled to protect my handler. Waving my hand from the floor to the axe wielding maniac attempting to dismember my handler, I dragged the shadows around him, and wrapped them around him.
The blood from the decoy disappeared so I pulled out the first plastic pouch and burst it over the top of my hand. Just in time as the primary mission objective was entering the room.
I'd seen her picture before. She was beautiful with blonde, curly hair and blue eyes. Her lips and cheeks were both rosy, which matched the long cloak she wore. She also wore a white as snow peasant blouse, a black leather corset and a long flowing skirt that swirled around her legs.
As soon as she entered, she saw her comrade and immediately appeared distressed. While my handler looked over when the door opened but didn't seem to be able to focus his eyes on her. Apparently she was using her natural ability to cloud minds to her presence. I admit, I had some disdain for my handler for being fooled so easily.
I brought up my sidearm and began unloading my rounds into her. They caught her completely off guard as I was still in the embrace of darkness. Not being human, it took nearly my entire magazine to bring her down. As she died, I was recharged and then some.
Wanting more of the same feeling, I drew my knife and lunged for the incapacitated axeman. My blade sliced through his throat, squirting blood out on my handler, which made me laugh. Further mirth was fuelled by the new power filling me. Between giggles I informed my handler, "his weapons are magic. I don't sense any curses."
He hefted the axe and said, "Sweet. HQ will be happy with this loot." He nodded at me, "you did good Cynthia, real good."
I looked at him hopefully, "Will we be staying to see the remaining parades?"
He shook his head. "No. We've got to clean up this mess and get out of here. They don't pay me to take you to parades." Then he looked thoughtful, "I suppose we can enjoy the festivities tonight when clean up is done though. Okay?"
I grinned ear to ear, already starting with the chore of clean up. "Yes, thank you."
***
The rest of the evening was very enjoyable, despite the presence of my handler. I don't think I ever liked this one. In fact I had complained about many of activities both during missions and his training regimes. HQ had told me to suck it up so I had no choice but to put up with it.
The next morning, we were a plane back home. I don't know where home really was. The doors we used to get there were always in different places. To confuse matters more, my trainers had a tendency to confuse the issue by making reality seem like a dream and dreams like reality. Still, I had learned a few tricks that helped me keep track of which was which.
Soon enough, we were back in HQ, giving our mission reports. It seemed odd that there was a man there I didn't recognize. His presence seemed to make my handler uncomfortable.
When the reports were over, our debriefer turned to me and smiled in an unpleasant way. "Very good performance, Cynthia. You've earned your reward."
My handler was giving me a perturbed look, unaware that I had been talking to HQ in his absence.
"Close your eyes, Cynthia." The debriefer told me.
It seemed an odd request to me at the time but I complied.
A shot rang out and there was a thump beside me as my old handler fell over. Immediately I forgot his face and name and felt a certain amount of relief.
A new voice addressed me, "open your eyes, Cynthia."
Obediently I opened them. It was the strange man. I bit the inside of my cheek, producing blood so I could look deeper at the man as I had been trained. He passed my checks. "Are you my new handler?"
"Yes I am, Cynthia."
The debriefer interjected, "remember." He told my new handler and gestured to my old one, "this is an object lesson. You're replaceable. She's not. No unauthorized training or activities, understood?"
The new handler nodded before turning to me again and smiling. "Don't worry, I'll follow all prescribed procedures."
I smiled back at him, just as I had been taught. But underneath it, I began to doubt that this new handler would be any better than the last one had been.
As for the conduct of the ambush, that would be up to my handler and me. I hid under the bed while he hid in the closet. I had several packets of the old woman's blood that were mixed with anti-coagulant agents so I wouldn't have to worry about pricking myself during the confrontation to come. As an additional precaution, I was wrapped in shadows, further hidden from view.
Unfortunately for us, something had tipped our target off to our presence. That became evident when without warning, a flash bang appeared suddenly in the middle of the room. The only clue to its appearance was the sudden activation of my magical senses. My handler was sufficiently protected behind the closet door but both the decoy and myself felt the full effect of the noise and light.
Thus I was unable to defend the decoy when a four and half foot man burst in through the window, swinging a battle axe in one hand and a large calibre pistol in the other. With a solid thunk, he sunk the axe into our helpless decoy. She didn't even have a chance for a last utterance.
However, her sacrifice wasn't entirely in vain. She was above me on the bed. Thus the axe that cleaved her, penetrated all the way through the bed and stopped only millimetres from my nose. Her blood dripped down onto my face and I was able to absorb her dying essence as I was starting to recover from the assault on my senses.
Meanwhile, my handler wasn't standing idle. He burst out of the closet, firing his SMG, riddling the back of the strange axe wielding midget. The force of the rounds pushed our attacker off balance and forward onto the bed and now dead decoy.
With the assailant distracted, I was free to roll out from under the bed and join the fray. None too soon either, as I could sense a quickly approaching magical presence. The approach suggested it would attempt to enter through the door way. Probably hoping that our current assailant would be keeping us busy and distracted.
Not a surprising assumption as that same assailant was already rolling off the bed and flinging himself at my handler. His bulk suggested that he was wearing some heavy duty body armor under his long coat. That was confirmed as my handler riddled his front with more rounds. Despite this, our attacker was moving with surprising speed.
Despite my desire to engage the primary target which by now I had also identified as being supernatural in nature, I was compelled to protect my handler. Waving my hand from the floor to the axe wielding maniac attempting to dismember my handler, I dragged the shadows around him, and wrapped them around him.
The blood from the decoy disappeared so I pulled out the first plastic pouch and burst it over the top of my hand. Just in time as the primary mission objective was entering the room.
I'd seen her picture before. She was beautiful with blonde, curly hair and blue eyes. Her lips and cheeks were both rosy, which matched the long cloak she wore. She also wore a white as snow peasant blouse, a black leather corset and a long flowing skirt that swirled around her legs.
As soon as she entered, she saw her comrade and immediately appeared distressed. While my handler looked over when the door opened but didn't seem to be able to focus his eyes on her. Apparently she was using her natural ability to cloud minds to her presence. I admit, I had some disdain for my handler for being fooled so easily.
I brought up my sidearm and began unloading my rounds into her. They caught her completely off guard as I was still in the embrace of darkness. Not being human, it took nearly my entire magazine to bring her down. As she died, I was recharged and then some.
Wanting more of the same feeling, I drew my knife and lunged for the incapacitated axeman. My blade sliced through his throat, squirting blood out on my handler, which made me laugh. Further mirth was fuelled by the new power filling me. Between giggles I informed my handler, "his weapons are magic. I don't sense any curses."
He hefted the axe and said, "Sweet. HQ will be happy with this loot." He nodded at me, "you did good Cynthia, real good."
I looked at him hopefully, "Will we be staying to see the remaining parades?"
He shook his head. "No. We've got to clean up this mess and get out of here. They don't pay me to take you to parades." Then he looked thoughtful, "I suppose we can enjoy the festivities tonight when clean up is done though. Okay?"
I grinned ear to ear, already starting with the chore of clean up. "Yes, thank you."
***
The rest of the evening was very enjoyable, despite the presence of my handler. I don't think I ever liked this one. In fact I had complained about many of activities both during missions and his training regimes. HQ had told me to suck it up so I had no choice but to put up with it.
The next morning, we were a plane back home. I don't know where home really was. The doors we used to get there were always in different places. To confuse matters more, my trainers had a tendency to confuse the issue by making reality seem like a dream and dreams like reality. Still, I had learned a few tricks that helped me keep track of which was which.
Soon enough, we were back in HQ, giving our mission reports. It seemed odd that there was a man there I didn't recognize. His presence seemed to make my handler uncomfortable.
When the reports were over, our debriefer turned to me and smiled in an unpleasant way. "Very good performance, Cynthia. You've earned your reward."
My handler was giving me a perturbed look, unaware that I had been talking to HQ in his absence.
"Close your eyes, Cynthia." The debriefer told me.
It seemed an odd request to me at the time but I complied.
A shot rang out and there was a thump beside me as my old handler fell over. Immediately I forgot his face and name and felt a certain amount of relief.
A new voice addressed me, "open your eyes, Cynthia."
Obediently I opened them. It was the strange man. I bit the inside of my cheek, producing blood so I could look deeper at the man as I had been trained. He passed my checks. "Are you my new handler?"
"Yes I am, Cynthia."
The debriefer interjected, "remember." He told my new handler and gestured to my old one, "this is an object lesson. You're replaceable. She's not. No unauthorized training or activities, understood?"
The new handler nodded before turning to me again and smiling. "Don't worry, I'll follow all prescribed procedures."
I smiled back at him, just as I had been taught. But underneath it, I began to doubt that this new handler would be any better than the last one had been.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
Hello Cynthia,
I've been following your posts and posts about you with some interest. I'm especially interested in this Foundation you used to be associated.
First I'd like to say you're a very good writer for your age. You're also very knowledgeable about the supernatural and I think that expertise could be a huge boon to the Lazlo Society. So I hope you keep posting and sharing what you know.
There is, as you've noted earlier a risk in revealing too much about your abilities online. The pay off is that we can all learn from your experiences. Even what we learn about you helps us. For example, you sensitivity to magic is much higher than I've previously heard about. It opens new possibilities to learn what is possible.
I do have one question about the conclusion of this story. On one hand it seems that you are compelled to protect your 'handler' yet you imply you arranged with the Foundations 'HQ' to have a handler 'retired'. One would seem to be at odds with the other, given your account. Can you clarify?
Also you refer to your sisters and their handlers quite often. Am I right in assuming that the Foundations paradigm is a female pre-adolescent or adolescent paired with an adult male handler for wet work operations? I ask because a couple of years ago, there was a series of attempts on Mr. Blue's life.
There seemed to be an attempt to frame Nemesis for at least one of the attempts at the time but as that ruse was quickly uncovered, it was dropped. However Mr. Blue noticed that either before or shortly after each attempt a man and a young girl was seen each time near the scene. There were attempts to alter their appearance each time but he noticed certain details about them that led him to believe they were the same two people each time.
Can you shed any light on that situation?
I've been following your posts and posts about you with some interest. I'm especially interested in this Foundation you used to be associated.
First I'd like to say you're a very good writer for your age. You're also very knowledgeable about the supernatural and I think that expertise could be a huge boon to the Lazlo Society. So I hope you keep posting and sharing what you know.
There is, as you've noted earlier a risk in revealing too much about your abilities online. The pay off is that we can all learn from your experiences. Even what we learn about you helps us. For example, you sensitivity to magic is much higher than I've previously heard about. It opens new possibilities to learn what is possible.
I do have one question about the conclusion of this story. On one hand it seems that you are compelled to protect your 'handler' yet you imply you arranged with the Foundations 'HQ' to have a handler 'retired'. One would seem to be at odds with the other, given your account. Can you clarify?
Also you refer to your sisters and their handlers quite often. Am I right in assuming that the Foundations paradigm is a female pre-adolescent or adolescent paired with an adult male handler for wet work operations? I ask because a couple of years ago, there was a series of attempts on Mr. Blue's life.
There seemed to be an attempt to frame Nemesis for at least one of the attempts at the time but as that ruse was quickly uncovered, it was dropped. However Mr. Blue noticed that either before or shortly after each attempt a man and a young girl was seen each time near the scene. There were attempts to alter their appearance each time but he noticed certain details about them that led him to believe they were the same two people each time.
Can you shed any light on that situation?
-
Gotham Witch
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Fri Nov 26, 2010 9:11 pm
- Location: Queens, New York
Re: Bad Wolf
This was an interesting story, Cynthia, thank you for sharing it.
Did you ever run into this werewolf again?
Did you ever run into this werewolf again?
"God have mercy on a man, who doubts what he's sure of." - Bruce Springsteen
Re: Bad Wolf
Gotham Witch wrote:This was an interesting story, Cynthia, thank you for sharing it.
Did you ever run into this werewolf again?
Do you mean as a ghost, Gotham Witch? Because I did kill her. But no, I haven't seen her as a ghost since. Do you think I might?
Also, she wasn't a werewolf. My rounds weren't silver but they killed her anyway.
Or are you talking about the Dark Thing I made sign a pact? It wasn't a werewolf either.
In fact, I can honestly say that no werewolves were harmed in the writing of this story.
Robyn,
I can shed quite a bit of light on your questions since I was the trigger on that job. It caused me no end of frustration and was the first time I ever failed on a mission. It vexed me. But now I suppose I'm glad I failed.
It was a little confusing when I first met Cybermancer, since he looks a lot like Mr. Blue. But I was able to determine that they weren't the same person and the conflict within me ended and I was happy.
If you PM me how Mr. Blue was able to survive, then I will post my side of that story. I'll respect Rule #8 and not tell anyone what you tell me but it's been bothering me for a long time and I'd like some closure.
Does that sound fair?
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
-
Gotham Witch
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Fri Nov 26, 2010 9:11 pm
- Location: Queens, New York
Re: Bad Wolf
The Dark Thing that you made sign a pact. I suppose I just assume all talking wolves are either fey or werewolves - bad habit of mine.
"God have mercy on a man, who doubts what he's sure of." - Bruce Springsteen
Re: Bad Wolf
Cynthia,
Agreed, we can exchange information. PM sent.
Agreed, we can exchange information. PM sent.
Re: Bad Wolf
Gotham Witch wrote:The Dark Thing that you made sign a pact. I suppose I just assume all talking wolves are either fey or werewolves - bad habit of mine.
That IS a bad habit, Gotham Witch. There are many things that can seem like many other things but aren't. A circle of salt wouldn't keep that Dark Thing away from you and that could make me sad.
Robyn,
I'll write and post here later.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
-
Gotham Witch
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Fri Nov 26, 2010 9:11 pm
- Location: Queens, New York
Re: Bad Wolf
Which I suppose leaves two questions - what was it, you think (the wolf), and have you seen it since - three, if we count 'Is it still around?' as a valid question.
"God have mercy on a man, who doubts what he's sure of." - Bruce Springsteen
Re: Bad Wolf
Gotham Witch wrote:Which I suppose leaves two questions - what was it, you think (the wolf), and have you seen it since - three, if we count 'Is it still around?' as a valid question.
It is a Dark Thing. I guess that doesn't answer your question though. It is a type of demon though I can't be more specific than that.
I have seen it since.
It is still around.
Don't try to stop it with salt.
You could probably shoot it though. Silver is good but regular bullets will work. I would suggest rounds that are good penetrators or armor piercing.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
-
Gotham Witch
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Fri Nov 26, 2010 9:11 pm
- Location: Queens, New York
Re: Bad Wolf
It's okay Cynthia, I don't trust salt to stop most things.
A 12 gauge Foster slug or a 10mm Auto in silver on the other hand...
A 12 gauge Foster slug or a 10mm Auto in silver on the other hand...
"God have mercy on a man, who doubts what he's sure of." - Bruce Springsteen
Re: Bad Wolf
Those are good choices, Gotham Witch. I wish my hands were big enough for a 10mm auto but hopefully I'll grow into it. In any case, I should keep my end of the bargain.
I don't know what the purpose of the Foundation is or what the bulk of its resources go into. I do know that when the Foundation has problems it can't solve by other means, it had the other girls and their handlers to take care of them. When those problems were supernatural or expected to be extraordinary in some way, I was brought in along with my handler.
As Robyn correctly surmised, I am required to protect my handler with any means at my disposal. That doesn't mean I have to like my handler. In fact I think I often have not. It was not determined that I had to like them in order to obey and protect them.
I most certainly did not like the handler from my previous story. I mentioned such to one of my other trainers while he (my handler) was away on some task, errand or other business. I also explained why I disliked him and queried if it would be possible to get a new handler. Eventually HQ came back and told me that I could in fact get a new handler and they would arrange it if I did well on my first mission. As a reward and incentive to continue to do well.
What I did not realize was that by replacing him, they meant to kill him first. Once the method of replacement was demonstrated to me, I was quite unable to request a new handler again as that was counter to my requirement to protect them. Indeed, I took often found myself taking pains to cover up their mistakes and not revealing information of misconduct to our superiors. Bear in mind that this wasn't because I liked any of them but rather because the compulsion to protect them from even [i]implied[i/] danger was so strong.
There are readers out there that perhaps should keep that last bit in mind.
In any case, this is the story of the First Mission I Failed and How I was Very Much Vexed.
The mission we received seemed simple enough. We were to assassinate a man who was apparently nosing around in and interfering with Foundation business. Our intelligence indicated that he had no magic, no psionic ability and no other supernatural capability. Frankly, it seemed like a waste of my talents.
Given that I have already admitted to failing, you can understand when I say that it was my most difficult mission. Still, I did learn some valuable lessons. First, I learned that it is a mistake to under estimate even the most harmless seeming foe. I further learned not to get too cocky as that can lead to making mistakes. Finally, I learned that failure was not acceptable to the bosses at the Foundation, regardless of how important you were to them, how successful you've been in the past or what you were up against.
Of course, my handler was as much to blame as I was. He didn't mandate any sort of reconnaissance or investigation into our target beyond ascertaining when and where he would be in public.
That information was provided to us by Miranda. Miranda wasn't part of the Foundation but apparently was on the same side and working towards the same goals. She specialized in infiltration and getting information. The target had annoyed some very important and power people. Not just the Foundation but higher though I don't enough to elaborate. I do know that she insisted that certain things happen, just in case we failed.
I informed her that we wouldn't fail but she said that we weren't familiar with the target and it was making us over confident. In any case, she insisted that the weapon I use be the .338 LM. This is a much bigger round than I'm used to using and I had to spend a few days at the range practicing in order to get used to it. While I appreciated the round for its capabilities, I knew it would be many more years before I properly grew into a rifle of that size.
And it seemed like it was wasting valuable time that could be used actually killing the target using a platform I was familiar with. For once my handler agreed with me and shared my annoyance and impatience. Orders are orders however so we were both stuck for it.
The big morning came. I took up position in a building down the street from our target. He came out of the front doors of the expensive hotel he was staying at, walking towards where his rental car was parked. I had an excellent profile of him as he turned away from us so I took my shot, center of mass like I had been taught.
"Damn it Cynthia, you missed!" My handler cursed when the target didn't go down.
I was certain that I hadn't but there wasn't time to argue the point. I lined up a second shot.
The target was acting oddly. He stopped and turned around and was kneeling on the ground and picked something up. In my scope I could see the bullet I had just fired between his fingers. It looked as though it had hit something solid.
Again I squeezed the trigger.
Just the merest of moments later, I watched as he picked the second bullet up off the ground, near where the first had fallen.
"What the...?" My handler had seen it too. "Must be magic. Pack up. We'll do a walk by and we'll see what you pick up."
I was disassembling the rifle and fitting it into a chello case. I was dressed like any little girl just out of or on her way to music lessons might. My handler, I think, was younger and dressed as though he was my brother, escorting me on my way.
Minutes later we were walking down the street, in an effort to over take him. Miranda was doing her part as well. She let herself be seen by him though she had a disguise in place. That got him going in the direction we wanted.
We passed by him on the opposite side of the street which was close enough to get a read on him. I had to cast a spell to complete my survey of the man. That required biting a capsul I had for just that purpose. For the briefest of moments, I could swear that he looked right us but didn't pause in his pursuit of what he thought was the shooter.
When we got into our car, my handler asked, "so what sort of magic are we dealing with."
"We aren't." I said, shaking my head. "No psionics. No magic. There was an aberration though, something I've never seen before."
I don't know what the purpose of the Foundation is or what the bulk of its resources go into. I do know that when the Foundation has problems it can't solve by other means, it had the other girls and their handlers to take care of them. When those problems were supernatural or expected to be extraordinary in some way, I was brought in along with my handler.
As Robyn correctly surmised, I am required to protect my handler with any means at my disposal. That doesn't mean I have to like my handler. In fact I think I often have not. It was not determined that I had to like them in order to obey and protect them.
I most certainly did not like the handler from my previous story. I mentioned such to one of my other trainers while he (my handler) was away on some task, errand or other business. I also explained why I disliked him and queried if it would be possible to get a new handler. Eventually HQ came back and told me that I could in fact get a new handler and they would arrange it if I did well on my first mission. As a reward and incentive to continue to do well.
What I did not realize was that by replacing him, they meant to kill him first. Once the method of replacement was demonstrated to me, I was quite unable to request a new handler again as that was counter to my requirement to protect them. Indeed, I took often found myself taking pains to cover up their mistakes and not revealing information of misconduct to our superiors. Bear in mind that this wasn't because I liked any of them but rather because the compulsion to protect them from even [i]implied[i/] danger was so strong.
There are readers out there that perhaps should keep that last bit in mind.
In any case, this is the story of the First Mission I Failed and How I was Very Much Vexed.
The mission we received seemed simple enough. We were to assassinate a man who was apparently nosing around in and interfering with Foundation business. Our intelligence indicated that he had no magic, no psionic ability and no other supernatural capability. Frankly, it seemed like a waste of my talents.
Given that I have already admitted to failing, you can understand when I say that it was my most difficult mission. Still, I did learn some valuable lessons. First, I learned that it is a mistake to under estimate even the most harmless seeming foe. I further learned not to get too cocky as that can lead to making mistakes. Finally, I learned that failure was not acceptable to the bosses at the Foundation, regardless of how important you were to them, how successful you've been in the past or what you were up against.
Of course, my handler was as much to blame as I was. He didn't mandate any sort of reconnaissance or investigation into our target beyond ascertaining when and where he would be in public.
That information was provided to us by Miranda. Miranda wasn't part of the Foundation but apparently was on the same side and working towards the same goals. She specialized in infiltration and getting information. The target had annoyed some very important and power people. Not just the Foundation but higher though I don't enough to elaborate. I do know that she insisted that certain things happen, just in case we failed.
I informed her that we wouldn't fail but she said that we weren't familiar with the target and it was making us over confident. In any case, she insisted that the weapon I use be the .338 LM. This is a much bigger round than I'm used to using and I had to spend a few days at the range practicing in order to get used to it. While I appreciated the round for its capabilities, I knew it would be many more years before I properly grew into a rifle of that size.
And it seemed like it was wasting valuable time that could be used actually killing the target using a platform I was familiar with. For once my handler agreed with me and shared my annoyance and impatience. Orders are orders however so we were both stuck for it.
The big morning came. I took up position in a building down the street from our target. He came out of the front doors of the expensive hotel he was staying at, walking towards where his rental car was parked. I had an excellent profile of him as he turned away from us so I took my shot, center of mass like I had been taught.
"Damn it Cynthia, you missed!" My handler cursed when the target didn't go down.
I was certain that I hadn't but there wasn't time to argue the point. I lined up a second shot.
The target was acting oddly. He stopped and turned around and was kneeling on the ground and picked something up. In my scope I could see the bullet I had just fired between his fingers. It looked as though it had hit something solid.
Again I squeezed the trigger.
Just the merest of moments later, I watched as he picked the second bullet up off the ground, near where the first had fallen.
"What the...?" My handler had seen it too. "Must be magic. Pack up. We'll do a walk by and we'll see what you pick up."
I was disassembling the rifle and fitting it into a chello case. I was dressed like any little girl just out of or on her way to music lessons might. My handler, I think, was younger and dressed as though he was my brother, escorting me on my way.
Minutes later we were walking down the street, in an effort to over take him. Miranda was doing her part as well. She let herself be seen by him though she had a disguise in place. That got him going in the direction we wanted.
We passed by him on the opposite side of the street which was close enough to get a read on him. I had to cast a spell to complete my survey of the man. That required biting a capsul I had for just that purpose. For the briefest of moments, I could swear that he looked right us but didn't pause in his pursuit of what he thought was the shooter.
When we got into our car, my handler asked, "so what sort of magic are we dealing with."
"We aren't." I said, shaking my head. "No psionics. No magic. There was an aberration though, something I've never seen before."
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
Of course, just because the first attempt was a failure doesn't mean the mission was a failure. Yet.
The aberration I detected didn't seem to bother anyone from HQ so we decided to proceed with the next attempt to eliminate the target. This time we weren't going to be as subtle as shooting someone in public. No, we were going to rig his rental vehicle to explode when he started it up.
Demolitions was a skill my handler brought to the team so I kept watch while he broke into the vehicle and rigged the explosives to the starting circuit. That part of the job went off without a hitch. So we retreated to a position where we could observe the situation.
Our target approached the vehicle but he paused at the door. He squinted at it for several moments. He traced his finger of the top of the window that was still open a tiny bit from the Slim-Jim entry tool my handler had used. Then he stepped back and walked around the vehicle. Then he pulled something rather like a smart phone from his pocket and began to wave it around the car while examining the screen.
"He's on to us, somehow." My handler said through gritted teeth. "Time to remote detonate."
The command given, I sent the cellular signal that would detonate the bomb remotely for us.
As you may have guessed, nothing happened.
Well, that's not entirely true either. As soon as I hit the send command, the target took a closer look at his monitor thing and then pointed it in our direction. It seemed as though he had traced the signal back to us. I was pretty sure he had intercepted and blocked it as well.
"Time to go." My handler said and we withdrew from the area, hoping he hadn't gotten a good look at either of us.
Of course, we were not so easily deterred as that. Our next attempt called for the summoning some shadow creatures to ambush him. We weren't sure what happened to them exactly, but they never returned to report success and of course the target continued to go about his business.
Finally, we decided that this job called for direct action. I was to approach him directly and use every ability in my arsenal in order to kill him. My handler would be watching from a distance so that he could take a shot of opportunity if one presented itself or assist me if I required it.
The approach was the hard part. Ideally, I wanted to get him alone but social conventions make it difficult to devise scenarios where a girl might be in a secluded location with a strange man. We considered attempting to dress me up as a Girl Scout and try to sell him some poisoned cookies. But it was decided that might expose me publicly unnecessarily.
It was Miranda who came up with the answer. Apparently he was investigating girls that were having strange dreams and claiming to have strange encounters with a boogie man like creature at night. So she used her disguise abilities to pretend to be my mother and to come forward with me as someone he could examine.
Now the odd thing was that all his examination equipment was in his hotel suite. He wasn't from the area and was conducting what he considered field research. Just as odd was that he wasn't affiliated with any of the local clinics or hospitals. Regardless, this served our purposes.
Miranda made contact and arranged for a meeting. As this was not her job, she refused to do more to help us. We figured it would be enough.
At the appointed time I arrived at the hotel lobby. The man at the desk called up to let the target that I was there and then let me on the elevator up to the top floor.
I knocked on the door to the suite, feeling oddly nervous. He answered the door and looked down at me with a smile. That was the first time I got a really good look at him without his sunglasses on. I remember thinking that he had the prettiest eyes.
"You must be Cassandra." He looked past me and into the hall, "didn't either of your parents come?"
I shook my head. "No. Mom and dad say I'm a big girl now and can get to my appointments on my own."
"Is that so? A little unusual." He was frowning slightly but when he looked down at me again he seemed to remember to smile again, "Please come in, Cassandra."
Walking in, I looked around. It was a large suit of course but it seemed cramped due to all the equipment that was present. A lot of it was in cases as he was wrapping up his research in the area now. Whatever he had set out to accomplish had been accomplished. We had failed to stop him and now I was to extract revenge.
"So why don't you tell me about these nightmares you've been having, Cassandra." He gestured to a comfortable looking seat.
He didn't seem quite at ease yet so I decided to wait a little longer to draw him into feeling more at ease and therefore more vulnerable. I sat down in the seat and began to tell him about my dreams. My real dreams. I'm not sure why I did that. I think maybe I thought it would be alright to confess to this man who was about to die anyway.
While I talked, he listened carefully and made notes. Occasionally he would ask questions that surprised me. It was like he already knew details of what I was talking about from another source.
"Interesting, Cassandra." The emphasis on my name was odd. "After listening to you, I have no doubt that the dreams you're having are very much related to this case I'm investigating. I suppose that's not surprising though, since you work for the Foundation."
My expression was quizzical as I still didn't want to give away my mission. Still, there were knots in my stomach at the thought that I may have been found out. Discovery would greatly decrease my chances of conducting a successful mission. "I don't work for anyone, sir."
"Do you want to know what gave you away?" He asked. His tone didn't suggest that he was especially upset with me.
"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." As I spoke, I was working on my plan of attack and escape.
"You're carrying the same cell phone today as you were the other day when you tried to use it to blow up my car."
Every muscle in my body tensed. He was absolutely right but how did he know? And why hadn't he tried to neutralize me as a threat. There was only one thing to do now, I had to attack. I went to bite down on my capsule but he seemed to anticipate something like that happening. He grabbed my throat with one hand, presumably to keep me from swallowing anything. His other hand he jammed into my mouth, preventing me from biting down. Well, I bit down anyway but he only gritted his teeth and bore the pain. I'm sure the glove he was wearing helped with that.
Fishing out the capsule, he examined it. "That's an odd color for poison."
Good. So he didn't know everything and could make a false conclusion. Still, he had accidently neutralized easy access to my magic. Caught up in examining the capsule, he didn't notice when I bit my lip.
He did however notice when I began chanting however. What's more, he seemed to recognize the threat that could represent to him. My spell was interrupted and lost and my tithe along with it when he pulled a taser like device on me and sent electrical shocks through my system.
Before I was done convulsing, he had may wrists and ankles secured to the chair and mouth piece in my mouth that prevented me from both biting down and also from speaking.
"What am I going to do with you?" He asked himself out loud.
The logical thing to do would have been interrogate and then kill me.
Then the sound of running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall way. No doubt my handler along with some back up. Now the logical thing to do would be to just kill me.
Instead he shook his head. "I'm sorry my dear." His tone suggested genuine regret. "I can't defeat your would be rescuers and I can't take you with me. My ticket out of here is for one only and it wouldn't accept your ID."
The door handle was blown off and my colleagues entered the room. They sprayed him their weapons but none of the bullets reached him, falling down an inch in front of him as though impacting thin air. He offered them a rude gesture and adjusted his belt buckle and was then gone.
Surprisingly, my handler wasn't killed for our failure. Neither was I, obviously although we were both punished in different ways. Part of my punishment involved watching his, while being unable to intervene.
How he did all those things without any sort of magic or psionic power was a mystery to me until very recently. I still don't really understand how any of those things worked since I don't think any of them should be possible.
Maybe I've been lied to. Or maybe my memories have been altered to confuse the truth of those events. Perhaps both. All I can do is report what I remember, not validate those memories.
The aberration I detected didn't seem to bother anyone from HQ so we decided to proceed with the next attempt to eliminate the target. This time we weren't going to be as subtle as shooting someone in public. No, we were going to rig his rental vehicle to explode when he started it up.
Demolitions was a skill my handler brought to the team so I kept watch while he broke into the vehicle and rigged the explosives to the starting circuit. That part of the job went off without a hitch. So we retreated to a position where we could observe the situation.
Our target approached the vehicle but he paused at the door. He squinted at it for several moments. He traced his finger of the top of the window that was still open a tiny bit from the Slim-Jim entry tool my handler had used. Then he stepped back and walked around the vehicle. Then he pulled something rather like a smart phone from his pocket and began to wave it around the car while examining the screen.
"He's on to us, somehow." My handler said through gritted teeth. "Time to remote detonate."
The command given, I sent the cellular signal that would detonate the bomb remotely for us.
As you may have guessed, nothing happened.
Well, that's not entirely true either. As soon as I hit the send command, the target took a closer look at his monitor thing and then pointed it in our direction. It seemed as though he had traced the signal back to us. I was pretty sure he had intercepted and blocked it as well.
"Time to go." My handler said and we withdrew from the area, hoping he hadn't gotten a good look at either of us.
Of course, we were not so easily deterred as that. Our next attempt called for the summoning some shadow creatures to ambush him. We weren't sure what happened to them exactly, but they never returned to report success and of course the target continued to go about his business.
Finally, we decided that this job called for direct action. I was to approach him directly and use every ability in my arsenal in order to kill him. My handler would be watching from a distance so that he could take a shot of opportunity if one presented itself or assist me if I required it.
The approach was the hard part. Ideally, I wanted to get him alone but social conventions make it difficult to devise scenarios where a girl might be in a secluded location with a strange man. We considered attempting to dress me up as a Girl Scout and try to sell him some poisoned cookies. But it was decided that might expose me publicly unnecessarily.
It was Miranda who came up with the answer. Apparently he was investigating girls that were having strange dreams and claiming to have strange encounters with a boogie man like creature at night. So she used her disguise abilities to pretend to be my mother and to come forward with me as someone he could examine.
Now the odd thing was that all his examination equipment was in his hotel suite. He wasn't from the area and was conducting what he considered field research. Just as odd was that he wasn't affiliated with any of the local clinics or hospitals. Regardless, this served our purposes.
Miranda made contact and arranged for a meeting. As this was not her job, she refused to do more to help us. We figured it would be enough.
At the appointed time I arrived at the hotel lobby. The man at the desk called up to let the target that I was there and then let me on the elevator up to the top floor.
I knocked on the door to the suite, feeling oddly nervous. He answered the door and looked down at me with a smile. That was the first time I got a really good look at him without his sunglasses on. I remember thinking that he had the prettiest eyes.
"You must be Cassandra." He looked past me and into the hall, "didn't either of your parents come?"
I shook my head. "No. Mom and dad say I'm a big girl now and can get to my appointments on my own."
"Is that so? A little unusual." He was frowning slightly but when he looked down at me again he seemed to remember to smile again, "Please come in, Cassandra."
Walking in, I looked around. It was a large suit of course but it seemed cramped due to all the equipment that was present. A lot of it was in cases as he was wrapping up his research in the area now. Whatever he had set out to accomplish had been accomplished. We had failed to stop him and now I was to extract revenge.
"So why don't you tell me about these nightmares you've been having, Cassandra." He gestured to a comfortable looking seat.
He didn't seem quite at ease yet so I decided to wait a little longer to draw him into feeling more at ease and therefore more vulnerable. I sat down in the seat and began to tell him about my dreams. My real dreams. I'm not sure why I did that. I think maybe I thought it would be alright to confess to this man who was about to die anyway.
While I talked, he listened carefully and made notes. Occasionally he would ask questions that surprised me. It was like he already knew details of what I was talking about from another source.
"Interesting, Cassandra." The emphasis on my name was odd. "After listening to you, I have no doubt that the dreams you're having are very much related to this case I'm investigating. I suppose that's not surprising though, since you work for the Foundation."
My expression was quizzical as I still didn't want to give away my mission. Still, there were knots in my stomach at the thought that I may have been found out. Discovery would greatly decrease my chances of conducting a successful mission. "I don't work for anyone, sir."
"Do you want to know what gave you away?" He asked. His tone didn't suggest that he was especially upset with me.
"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." As I spoke, I was working on my plan of attack and escape.
"You're carrying the same cell phone today as you were the other day when you tried to use it to blow up my car."
Every muscle in my body tensed. He was absolutely right but how did he know? And why hadn't he tried to neutralize me as a threat. There was only one thing to do now, I had to attack. I went to bite down on my capsule but he seemed to anticipate something like that happening. He grabbed my throat with one hand, presumably to keep me from swallowing anything. His other hand he jammed into my mouth, preventing me from biting down. Well, I bit down anyway but he only gritted his teeth and bore the pain. I'm sure the glove he was wearing helped with that.
Fishing out the capsule, he examined it. "That's an odd color for poison."
Good. So he didn't know everything and could make a false conclusion. Still, he had accidently neutralized easy access to my magic. Caught up in examining the capsule, he didn't notice when I bit my lip.
He did however notice when I began chanting however. What's more, he seemed to recognize the threat that could represent to him. My spell was interrupted and lost and my tithe along with it when he pulled a taser like device on me and sent electrical shocks through my system.
Before I was done convulsing, he had may wrists and ankles secured to the chair and mouth piece in my mouth that prevented me from both biting down and also from speaking.
"What am I going to do with you?" He asked himself out loud.
The logical thing to do would have been interrogate and then kill me.
Then the sound of running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall way. No doubt my handler along with some back up. Now the logical thing to do would be to just kill me.
Instead he shook his head. "I'm sorry my dear." His tone suggested genuine regret. "I can't defeat your would be rescuers and I can't take you with me. My ticket out of here is for one only and it wouldn't accept your ID."
The door handle was blown off and my colleagues entered the room. They sprayed him their weapons but none of the bullets reached him, falling down an inch in front of him as though impacting thin air. He offered them a rude gesture and adjusted his belt buckle and was then gone.
Surprisingly, my handler wasn't killed for our failure. Neither was I, obviously although we were both punished in different ways. Part of my punishment involved watching his, while being unable to intervene.
How he did all those things without any sort of magic or psionic power was a mystery to me until very recently. I still don't really understand how any of those things worked since I don't think any of them should be possible.
Maybe I've been lied to. Or maybe my memories have been altered to confuse the truth of those events. Perhaps both. All I can do is report what I remember, not validate those memories.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Maybe that man knows Mr. Just?
Cynthia wrote:Maybe I've been lied to. Or maybe my memories have been altered to confuse the truth of those events. Perhaps both. All I can do is report what I remember, not validate those memories.
_____Hi, Cynthia! I’m really glad that Miss Darcy is your handler, now. Or is it Mr. Ron, now? Can your handler be a woman? Since you call Miss Darcy “Momma,” maybe she can be your Momma instead. Women can be mommas. That sounds better than “Handler” to me. I think Mr. Ron would be a good handler too, but I think he is a better daddy. That’s another name for “Papa,” you know. I don’t remember either of my parents, but if I do, I want to call my dad “Daddy.”
_____P.S. Mr. Just could do stuff like the man that you didn’t kill. He let me live in a sweet in his castle once, although there were some rooms he asked me not to enter. I wonder if that’s where he kept the ghosts that wandered around sometimes?
_____P.S. Again. I’m sorry if you were lied to. Lying is wrong.
Last edited by Clarity on Wed Jun 13, 2012 1:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
When my dreams and visions help people, it’s not a burden, it’s a good thing.
Re: Bad Wolf
Hi Clarity,
I suspect that you are right and there is some sort of connection between this man and your Mr. Just. I'm glad I failed if it meant you got to live in a castle for a bit.
Nemesis is my handler now but I call her Momma and that feels right to do. Mr. Ron is not my handler so I don't have to do what he tells me, only Momma. But I still try anyway. I call him Papa and I like to call him Papa. I don't want to call him Dad or Daddy. I've called other men those names and they were not nice at all (but they weren't my real father).
I didn't have a normal sort of parent arrangement. I never knew the woman who gave birth to me (if that's what actually happened) and I don't think I ever had a father of any sort. I remember when they still referred to me as Seven-Seven. I asked my first handler what that met (I had my name by then but he also knew that I was once Seven-Seven). He said it was because I was part of the seventh batch and was the seventh to be born in that batch.
And you're right, lying is wrong. I've had to do that a lot. I mean a lot, a lot. It's gotten easier than truth sometimes. Actually, most of the time.
I hope that doesn't mean you hate me now.
I suspect that you are right and there is some sort of connection between this man and your Mr. Just. I'm glad I failed if it meant you got to live in a castle for a bit.
Nemesis is my handler now but I call her Momma and that feels right to do. Mr. Ron is not my handler so I don't have to do what he tells me, only Momma. But I still try anyway. I call him Papa and I like to call him Papa. I don't want to call him Dad or Daddy. I've called other men those names and they were not nice at all (but they weren't my real father).
I didn't have a normal sort of parent arrangement. I never knew the woman who gave birth to me (if that's what actually happened) and I don't think I ever had a father of any sort. I remember when they still referred to me as Seven-Seven. I asked my first handler what that met (I had my name by then but he also knew that I was once Seven-Seven). He said it was because I was part of the seventh batch and was the seventh to be born in that batch.
And you're right, lying is wrong. I've had to do that a lot. I mean a lot, a lot. It's gotten easier than truth sometimes. Actually, most of the time.
I hope that doesn't mean you hate me now.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Re: Bad Wolf
Thank you for sharing that, Cynthia. It has proven useful.
Re: Bad Wolf
It took me a long time to consider a reponse to this. A lot I've said to Cythia in person and that doesn't need to be repeated here.
I always thought I started in this business young, but at least my father managed to let me have something resembling a normal child hood. I didn't appreciate that at the time but I do now.
I'm going to do everything I can to see that Cynthia has as normal a life as is possible. I'm also going to ensure that none of the abuses visited upon her in the past are repeated.
It seems odd to me that the second story was never reported on this site sooner. I guess he must have had his reasons.
I always thought I started in this business young, but at least my father managed to let me have something resembling a normal child hood. I didn't appreciate that at the time but I do now.
I'm going to do everything I can to see that Cynthia has as normal a life as is possible. I'm also going to ensure that none of the abuses visited upon her in the past are repeated.
It seems odd to me that the second story was never reported on this site sooner. I guess he must have had his reasons.
Hi, I'm Darcy!
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
Hannah told me in a dream, so I don’t hate you
Cynthia wrote:I hope that doesn't mean you hate me now.
_____Hi, Cynthia!
_____Of course I don’t hate you. Hannah told me a little about you in my dream, so I understand now.
_____P.S. She told me how it wasn’t really her, but just a “construct” since she wasn’t in my “dream pool.” She tried to tell me what that is and how I don’t need to worry even though I can’t swim.
_____P.S. again. I waited for you on Friday, but it was Hannah who came instead. She was back from her date.
_____She said she told me already we wouldn’t be going to the dancing club because you were gone. I probably forgot, though. Sorry.
When my dreams and visions help people, it’s not a burden, it’s a good thing.
Re: Bad Wolf
Hi Clarity!
I'm glad you don't hate me.
Sorry I didn't make it to go to the club with you last weekend. Surprisingly I'm not grounded for what I did so maybe we can go dancing this weekend. Would that be okay?
I'm glad you don't hate me.
Sorry I didn't make it to go to the club with you last weekend. Surprisingly I'm not grounded for what I did so maybe we can go dancing this weekend. Would that be okay?
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
-
Cybermancer
- Posts: 1071
- Joined: Fri Jan 20, 2006 10:41 am
- Contact:
Re: Bad Wolf
I've always thought that the so called 'Big Bad Wolf' of mythology has always been the victim of bad PR. Persecution of wolves is a result of economic realities. That is, they feed on domestic animals found in rural areas. There are actually very few reports of attacks on humans by wolves. Those attacks that do occur tend to be either a result of rabies or against children. Humans are not the natural prey of wolves.
Now that we've established that wolves have been misrepresented to us, let's take a long hard look at what they really are, shall we?
Wolves, much like humans, are social predators that hunt by daylight. They are generally apex predators where they range, threatened only by tigers and humans. It is their social cooperation that allows them to take down prey that is much larger than they are. The wolf hunting group is made up of an Alpha or mating pair and their adult children.
What is truly remarkable about wolves is their ancient connection to humans and their descendents, the domestic dog. You see, dogs are the same species as wolves. All dogs alive today are descended from ancient wolves and can still breed with wolves. There is only 99.8% genetic difference between wolves and dogs. But sticking with wolves for a moment, we have to go back in time and look at how wolves joined with humanity in the first place.
Archaeological evidence places the domestication of dogs anywhere between 15,000 and 30,000 years ago. However, genetic evidence suggests that dogs branched off from the wolf much further back than that, on the order of up to 100,000 years ago. There are wolf fossils associated with human fossil remains going back much farther than that.
So how did this connection between wolves and humanity take place? Well, there are several theories and there have been some interesting experiments conducted that help us understand how this could have occurred. For example, there was a study showing that wolf cubs taken at a very young age (before 21 days) could be tamed and socialized normally (though wolves taken after that time remained wild).
Another interesting experiment was conducted in Russia with Silver Foxes. The scientists took the top 1% of a fox population that showed the least fear of humanity and bred them together. Then they repeated this process generation after generation. After just three generations they noticed a decrease of aggression towards people. Now, fifty years and 80 generations later, the silver foxes are quite tame.
So were these first wolves domesticated by humanity? Well, some people beleive that similar ranges and hunting styles led to wolves effectively domesticating themselves by approaching humans and associating with them. This is remarkable, when you think about it. It means that wolves looked at people and essentially thought, we should hang out with them apes over there. Perhaps they started by scavanging kills made by people.
I suspect what happened is that wolves started hanging around humans, and humans adopted the wolf, with each helping the other to survive and prosper. And the more the wolf and humans associated, the more they became alike one another, and influenced how each species grew and matured.
Let's look at some of the time scales:
200,000-250,000 years ago: Appearance of antomically modern humans.
100,000 years ago: Wolves associated with humans.
50,000 years ago: 'The Great Leap Forward' or the appearance of modern behavior in humans. Whether caused by gradual and incremental increases in knowledge, the exchange of ideas of larger and more diverse human population or because of a sudden increase in the complexity of the human brain, this is when things like art and other abstract thinking appear in the archaeological evidence.
30,000 years ago: Domestic Dogs are associated with humanity.
15,000 years ago: Domestic Dogs definitely part of human culture.
9,000-11,000 years ago: Agricultural Revolution.
Basically, we might not be who we are today had our ancestors not been joined by wolves in the struggle to survive. And even today, sometimes a wolf is adopted into our lives and families. Maybe it doesn't always work out, but it can and when it does, everyone benefits.
Now that we've established that wolves have been misrepresented to us, let's take a long hard look at what they really are, shall we?
Wolves, much like humans, are social predators that hunt by daylight. They are generally apex predators where they range, threatened only by tigers and humans. It is their social cooperation that allows them to take down prey that is much larger than they are. The wolf hunting group is made up of an Alpha or mating pair and their adult children.
What is truly remarkable about wolves is their ancient connection to humans and their descendents, the domestic dog. You see, dogs are the same species as wolves. All dogs alive today are descended from ancient wolves and can still breed with wolves. There is only 99.8% genetic difference between wolves and dogs. But sticking with wolves for a moment, we have to go back in time and look at how wolves joined with humanity in the first place.
Archaeological evidence places the domestication of dogs anywhere between 15,000 and 30,000 years ago. However, genetic evidence suggests that dogs branched off from the wolf much further back than that, on the order of up to 100,000 years ago. There are wolf fossils associated with human fossil remains going back much farther than that.
So how did this connection between wolves and humanity take place? Well, there are several theories and there have been some interesting experiments conducted that help us understand how this could have occurred. For example, there was a study showing that wolf cubs taken at a very young age (before 21 days) could be tamed and socialized normally (though wolves taken after that time remained wild).
Another interesting experiment was conducted in Russia with Silver Foxes. The scientists took the top 1% of a fox population that showed the least fear of humanity and bred them together. Then they repeated this process generation after generation. After just three generations they noticed a decrease of aggression towards people. Now, fifty years and 80 generations later, the silver foxes are quite tame.
So were these first wolves domesticated by humanity? Well, some people beleive that similar ranges and hunting styles led to wolves effectively domesticating themselves by approaching humans and associating with them. This is remarkable, when you think about it. It means that wolves looked at people and essentially thought, we should hang out with them apes over there. Perhaps they started by scavanging kills made by people.
I suspect what happened is that wolves started hanging around humans, and humans adopted the wolf, with each helping the other to survive and prosper. And the more the wolf and humans associated, the more they became alike one another, and influenced how each species grew and matured.
Let's look at some of the time scales:
200,000-250,000 years ago: Appearance of antomically modern humans.
100,000 years ago: Wolves associated with humans.
50,000 years ago: 'The Great Leap Forward' or the appearance of modern behavior in humans. Whether caused by gradual and incremental increases in knowledge, the exchange of ideas of larger and more diverse human population or because of a sudden increase in the complexity of the human brain, this is when things like art and other abstract thinking appear in the archaeological evidence.
30,000 years ago: Domestic Dogs are associated with humanity.
15,000 years ago: Domestic Dogs definitely part of human culture.
9,000-11,000 years ago: Agricultural Revolution.
Basically, we might not be who we are today had our ancestors not been joined by wolves in the struggle to survive. And even today, sometimes a wolf is adopted into our lives and families. Maybe it doesn't always work out, but it can and when it does, everyone benefits.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: Bad Wolf
Well isn't that some food for thought.
Within the canidae family the fox is one tribe and genus and the wolf is another. Some of those differences include the fox tends not to be pack animals and even one species from them climbs trees. Of course, culturally speaking, each animal conjures up very different associates. A fox can be sexy or clever, while a wolf tends to evoke powerful and spiritual associations.
But the point is taken. Ten thousand years is sufficient time for two species to tear each other apart or to become comfortable with one another.
And just as a side note, a pug is closer to his wolf ancestor than is the German shepherd, genetically speaking.
Within the canidae family the fox is one tribe and genus and the wolf is another. Some of those differences include the fox tends not to be pack animals and even one species from them climbs trees. Of course, culturally speaking, each animal conjures up very different associates. A fox can be sexy or clever, while a wolf tends to evoke powerful and spiritual associations.
But the point is taken. Ten thousand years is sufficient time for two species to tear each other apart or to become comfortable with one another.
And just as a side note, a pug is closer to his wolf ancestor than is the German shepherd, genetically speaking.
Наташа Крылова .:. Natasha Krilova
Re: Bad Wolf
It would seem, Cybermancer, that there is some room for interpretation with regards to the point you were making.
Regardless of how ancient wolves may have behaved around tribes of hunter-gather humans, today they kill the chickens and attack children. And as you said yourself, wolves taken in too late never socialize properly.
Regardless of how ancient wolves may have behaved around tribes of hunter-gather humans, today they kill the chickens and attack children. And as you said yourself, wolves taken in too late never socialize properly.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
-
Cybermancer
- Posts: 1071
- Joined: Fri Jan 20, 2006 10:41 am
- Contact:
Re: Bad Wolf
Perhaps you're right Cynthia.
It's a good thing then, that people aren't wolves. At best, they can put on the skin of a wolf. Fortunately, that can always be shed.
It's a good thing then, that people aren't wolves. At best, they can put on the skin of a wolf. Fortunately, that can always be shed.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: Bad Wolf
It is not whether wolf-human relationship is this or that.
Domestication of the dog is of immense importance to our history and development. It is clear that we no longer co-exist with the animal and have been shaped by the relationship far more than the wolf has been changed by us. Presuming that the wolf has been changed, do humans not engage in the same treacherous behaviour? On the other hand, the wolf does it survive, what's our excuse?
Domestication of the dog is of immense importance to our history and development. It is clear that we no longer co-exist with the animal and have been shaped by the relationship far more than the wolf has been changed by us. Presuming that the wolf has been changed, do humans not engage in the same treacherous behaviour? On the other hand, the wolf does it survive, what's our excuse?
Наташа Крылова .:. Natasha Krilova
Re: Bad Wolf
Nemesis wrote:It would seem, Cybermancer, that there is some room for interpretation with regards to the point you were making.
Regardless of how ancient wolves may have behaved around tribes of hunter-gather humans, today they kill the chickens and attack children. And as you said yourself, wolves taken in too late never socialize properly.
Maybe, but our little wolf pup is making so much progress I doubt we'll have any problems in the long run.
Hannah
I will be who I chose to be.
Re: Bad Wolf
I think Matt, like usual, took a long route to a short answer.
All I have to add is no one better come between Momma wolf and her cub.
All I have to add is no one better come between Momma wolf and her cub.
Hi, I'm Darcy!
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
-
LostSeeker
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Wed Jun 27, 2012 12:43 am
- Location: On the run
Re: Bad Wolf
What a fascinating kid.
Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth-Sherlock Holmes
