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Siroc's Notebook - Part 4
As we pulled into the garrison courtyard, getting strange looks from the Musketeers there, something I at least am used to, D’art hit me on the shoulder. ‘Hey, we’ll take care of getting this junk into your lab. You should go talk to the Captain.’
I swallowed. ‘You’re right. Thanks.’ I jumped down, then stopped and looked at all of them, and repeated, ‘Thank you.’ I’m not good at showing my emotions, but I think they understood for what I was thanking them.
I took a deep breath before knocking on the door to Duval’s office. ‘Come in!’ he called. I smiled to myself. I had gotten that habit from him. I opened the door and entered cautiously. ‘Siroc,’ he said, hushed, half-standing as I came in.
‘Captain,’ I said, closing the door.
As soon as it clicked he’d crossed the room and hugged me, surprising us both, I think. He pulled back quickly, held m
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Siroc's Notebook - Part 3
I worked all night again. I really had not slept much the last couple of days, if at all. As I put on the finishing touches, fashioned the ammunition, hour by hour it more resembled what it was: a weapon. But still I worked, driven to complete it, caught up in the storm of creation.
I was about to attach a sight when there was a rap on the window. It was Jacques. He waved through the glass before moving around toward the door. I put the sight down and yanked a rope I had rigged to drop a tarp over the gun. It covered the device just barely in time.
‘I’m off to church,’ Jacques said as he came in. ‘Are you coming?’
I crossed my arms defensively and cleared my throat. ‘Ah, I have work to do.’
‘Oh.’ He looked a little disappointed, and a little worried. I had been trying to put God back in my life since joining the Musketeers, and I rarely missed church. ‘All right.’ He turned to go.
‘Say a prayer for me,’ I sto
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Siroc's Notebook - Part 2
I went back to the garrison, and, as I always do when troubled, shut myself in my lab. I tried to occupy my thoughts and hands with other projects, but the notebook consumed me, and eventually as night fell I found myself simply pacing the floor in the dark, staring at the maddening scrap, until I was stopped by the sound of breaking glass. Outside a horse galloped away. At my feet lay a piece of paper wrapped around a rock. The note read:
For more secrets of the Master, meet me on the rue Asperges.
I didn’t even stop to think. I was ready to follow that map Mazarin had spoken of even if it were the Devil himself who handed it to me.
I walked slowly down the rue Asperges, wondering if I’d recognize whichever of the Cardinal’s friends came to meet me.
Someone came up behind me and grabbed my arm, saying, ‘You are Siroc?’
I was a little surprised to see a face I didn’t at all recognize, a common man’s face. ‘You sent the note? Why all the s
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Siroc's Notebook - Part 1
I’ve thought a hundred times about destroying the preceding pages, tearing them out of my notebook and throwing them on the fire of my forge. But the thought of such willful destruction of the incredible discovery they contain gives me pause, and I find myself unable. Maybe I haven’t learned anything at all these last few days. But, if remain they must, then on the chance this notebook too is one day lost and then found again, I want to follow them with a cautionary tale of their destructive nature. Perhaps DaVinci too, after designing this machine, unlike me was wise enough to realize it shouldn’t be built, but like me found himself unable to erase its creation. Perhaps, like mine shall, the facing pages of his notebook held a warning. Such thoughts give me small comfort, even if they do not erase my sin.
After all, this invention, for all its brilliance, for all its advent consumed and excited me, led me, in the end, to fear for my soul.
I’m not accustomed to
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Hell House - Part 4
April 8, 2012: Easter
I’m told the churches around town had record turnouts Saturday night and Sunday morning.  I know I went to both services.  I guess we all felt we had a lot to pray and be thankful for.  All the churches, also, had final rites for anyone ever taken by the House, including Peter Smith.  I can’t imagine the number of prayers for him; I think everyone who had ever met him and been helped by him knew he was responsible for the House’s collapse.
As for myself, I just wanted him back.
I was at Ronnie’s that afternoon, drinking a hot chocolate, when my cell phone rang.  “Hello?”
“Hello, Heather Murray?” an older man’s voice said.
“We met once, a couple weeks ago.  You interviewed my wife.  My name is Rich Worther.”
I set my cup down and leaned forward, catching Ron
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Hell House - Part 3
April 12, 2012
I can’t believe it all happened over Easter weekend.
I’ve tried a few times to put pen to paper and write it all out since, but this is the first time the words have come.  Even so, it’s not easy.
He still hasn’t woken up.
This is bad journalism.  Start at the beginning.
I was trying to sleep all day after my amaretto bender with Peter, but was woken by knocking on my door in the afternoon.  It was Ronnie, looking like he didn’t know what to do about anything.  “He’s been taken,” he said.
“Had a rescue this morning, got them out, and apparently just turned around and walked back in.”
I couldn’t believe it.  “But—“
“I needed to tell someone.  Could only think of you.”
“…ten minutes.”  I already knew what I was going to do.  I showered and dressed in record time, grabbed my revolver, and ran out
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Hell House - Part 2
March 28, 2012
Went to the Hell House today and just stood against my car, outside the perimeter fence, thinking.  Mary Anne’s description was apt.  It looks like a house, but you just know instinctively that it isn’t.  I can’t imagine anyone willingly walking in there.  Felt weirded out just standing on the outside looking at it.
Had a phenomenal stroke of good luck.  Was still standing there thinking when a cab pulled up.  Out stepped Smith, barely closing the door before the cab peeled out.  He looked a little wryly amused by it.  Then he just stood there, waiting.  Thought about talking to him, but he seemed preoccupied.  Couldn’t blame him.  He stayed facing the House the whole time.
Eventually a car pulled up, parked near mine.  Middle-aged guy stepped out, glanced at me before joining Smith.
“Mr. Barrymore?” Smith confirmed as he approached.
“I sure hope you know what you’
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Hell House - Part 1
Hell House
March 23, 2012
After 3 days searching, and more coffee than I’d care to admit, finally found Peter Smith.  Was in a coffee shop, as per rumors, but not one of the chains, some little hole-in-the-wall place called Ronnie’s.  Ordered a tea and a scone to celebrate, and took a seat by the door so I could stop him if he left.
Description: A little older than I expected, maybe in early thirties.  I must watch too much TV; was picturing some young handsome action star.  Average height, slim, dark brown hair, pale eyes.  Attractive, in a way.  A little prematurely aged, graying temples.  Not surprising, considering what he does.  Drinking something in a mug, reading a book.  This in itself was interesting to watch.
Finished my scone and decided to go for it.  Picked up my mug, approached his table, and slowed down.  How would I begin this?  How do you pressure someone like him?
He saved me the trouble.  
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The Experiment - Epilogue
This job had been strange from the start.  Contacted by a dying man who didn’t want to be killed.  First meeting done over crappy quality videophone to arrange for a real meeting.  Then on the way to the appointed café I get in a car accident.  A bad one.  Lands me in the hospital for several days, no way to contact my almost employer and tell him what’s up.  Imagine my surprise when I got out to hear I had taken the job, missed my opportunity, and was at that moment embroiled in a fight at a hotel with a guy trying to kill my employer.  In a world where not much shocks me anymore, this was almost unbelievable.  I had to check it out.
The parking lot in front of the hotel was a zoo of squad cars, ambulances, spectators, and uniformed men and women.  I could see my would-be contractor sitting by one of the ambulances, surrounded by underlings, hooked up to an oxygen pump, looking pissed.  I slipped through the
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The Experiment
The Experiment
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
The older gentleman occupying the table looked up at me and said something completely unexpected.  “About damn time.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do I look like someone who has shitloads of time to kill?”
“Well.”  He, in fact, looked quite ill, like he was losing a battle with some chronic disease.  “No.”
“Then shut up and sit down.”
At this point it was obvious he had mistaken me for someone else, and I should probably tell him as much, then go find a different coffee house, one with more than one open seat.  Yes, that would have been the thing to do.
I sat down.
“I’ll make this quick,” he continued.  “I’m dying.  Everybody knows this.  But one of my underlings thinks to speed things up.  Bastard thinks if he can rub me out before the Grim Reaper finds me it’ll make him look good, help him make a p
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Grocery Cart Cabs
Grocery Cart Cabs
Big City lives up to its name.  Towering skyscrapers reach into the atmosphere, and the busy streets form a labyrinth for anyone not intensely familiar with their layout.  Traffic is a constant, streams of lights that never stop accompanied by a symphony of horns.  People who call Big City home call it beautiful, and revel in its quirks and rhythms.  People who don’t call it home call it confusing, a sentiment its residents certainly don’t discount, and they struggle to find a way through its fast and dangerous streets.
Big City is a home to legends, though, and peculiarities not found in the world’s smaller metropolises.  Perhaps the most famous of these is the Grocery Cart Cabs.  GC Cabs, to the initiated, is a group of boys and girls who live on the streets of Big City, and have banded together to provide an alternate means of transportation to the harried citizens of their hometown.  They adopt forsaken grocery carts, rehab them into sturdy vehic
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The Drink
Stark shuffled into his living room from the workshop and stopped short. There was a tall man in a dark coat standing in front of his liquor cabinet, reaching for glasses. Stark almost said "Who the hell are you?" but hesitated. He recognized that wacky black hair.
"I thought we might have that drink now," Loki said as he turned around. He was dressed in human clothes. In a really nice suit, in fact, complete with dark green silk tie and a plaid scarf in similar colors.
Not really sure how to react to this, Stark's defense mechanisms kicked in. "Didja steal that suit from my closet?"
"No," Loki answered, straight-faced, then grinned. "I didn't think any of yours would fit." Stark winced. Yeah, sure, mister Asgardian god, rub in the fact you're like nine feet tall.
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Dwight Schultz Group Contest Entry by cesura Dwight Schultz Group Contest Entry :iconcesura:cesura 3 14
Special Effects 2 - Part 6
After bathing to wipe off all the cold, clammy "I'm dying" sweat, I went in search of the Queen.   After asking several servants and getting some very strange reactions, I finally realized that word must have spread about my special powers.  Rumor is an ugly thing, make no mistake.  Some of them even yelped, yelped, and ran off.  It was very disconcerting.  It got worse.  
I was eventually directed to the temple Madise had taken me to when I had first arrived.  When I walked in, about a dozen pairs of priestly eyes met mine, then were thrown downwards as every man in the room bowed.  Bowed.  To me.  I burst out laughing, this being just the icing on the proverbial cake.  One of the priests approached.
"Forgive my impudence, Lord Silvanus, but we must know."  My laughter intensified at the use of the honorific.  "How is it the gods have come to bless you
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Special Effects 2 - Part 5
I was woken from my dead faint finally by that same manservant who had come to fetch me the day before.  "Master Sil?" he said, prodding me until I came conscious.  "Are you alright?"
"Huh?  Oh.  Yeah.  Fine.  I just got tired of staring at the ceiling from the bed, so I wanted to try a different angle."  I struggled to my feet.  "How are you?"
His brows came together, but he made no response to my question.  "Her Majesty has already begun court, but wishes you to join her as soon as possible."  I turned to look at the clock and raised my eyebrows.  I'd been passed out a long time.
"Okeedokee," I told him.  With a small shake of his head he left me to get ready.  
After getting dressed in something respectable, I made my way down to the Grand Hall.  This was where they held court, which was a big meeting to take care of government matters, but to a
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Special Effects 2 - Part 4
I slept in the next morning.  That was a weird feeling.  Normally I'm up at the crack of dawn, either because I'm outside and the sun wakes me, or because I'm in some crappy inn with no curtains and the sun wakes me.  But here, in the palace, I had curtains, and they were drawn, so I ended up shooting out of bed in a panic because I thought I'd massively overslept.  But according to my clock, it was only mid-morning.
This room also had a bathroom.  This was still new to me.  Well, I mean, before I left home I had a washroom, and my room at the summer residence had had one too, but not like this.  This was Impressive.  An honest-to-god bathtub with heated water, bubble soap, towels, everything I could ever want in a bathroom.  I proceeded to spend an embarrassingly long time in there, having the first real bath of my life (or so it seemed at the time), grooming myself, and changing into the clothes
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cesura's Profile Picture
enjoys the little things
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Home is where your rump rests.
Favourite genre of music: instrumental, movie soundtracks, classical
Favourite photographer: none
Favourite style of art: anything
Operating System: mac
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Shell of choice: Mortal.
Wallpaper of choice: changes every few days
Skin of choice: mine
Favorite cartoon character: Jackie Chan, Toph (Avatar), Joker (BtAS)
Personal Quote: "If you try to nail anything down in the novel, either it kills the novel, or the novel gets up and walks away with the nail." ~D.H. Lawrence
I...guess I should write a new journal entry. I mean, it's been almost a year. Haha, wow...I fail. Anyhoo, I am home from Japan, back in good ol' Ohio, at least for the time being. Working on finding a job, all that fun stuff. And also, yes, writing!

As mentioned in the comments on Siroc's Notebook, I have a retelling of the movie Thor, from Loki's perspective. This was fun to write, and gave me a chance to air all my theories on the character and what happens in that movie. It's also 30 pages long, and will perhaps undergo more revisions once my mom reads it, so it won't be up immediately. But soon.

Also, I still have that story about a guy named Kitan. I need to title that, break it into sections, and post it. It's been complete for waaaaay too long.

Back on the Loki thing, I decided this was a really fun and educational form of fanfiction to write, so I'm gonna keep doing them. I've started one for the Gene Wilder Willy Wonka, partly to challenge myself, and partly because Gene Wilder. There's a fantastically distinctive voice. So much so, in fact, I'm kinda tempted to do one for Jim in Blazing Saddles. That would also be a challenge, because of the total destruction of the fourth wall at the end there.

Sil is still babbling at me, off and on. If any of you watched/like the Japanese shows Galileo and Nazotoki wa Dinner no Ato de, I've also been translating the novels those are based off of (they're actually short story collections). If there's interest, I can put those up as I do them as well.

That's pretty much it for a writing update, for anybody out there still reading. Thanks for sticking around, even through long periods of no activity!
  • Listening to: iPod, the dog
  • Reading: Captain Harlock movie novel
  • Watching: Saint Seiya, Black Fox (Chinese drama)
  • Playing: with the cat
  • Eating: all the foods I couldn't get in Japan
  • Drinking: water, tea, decent beer (good to be home)


Add a Comment:
IronQuill Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2015  Professional General Artist
*Good to hear from you! How is your writing going?
cesura Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
It's going, but probably not as fast as it could be. I need to wrap something up to post. It's been too long. ^_^;
bcbdrums Featured By Owner May 23, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
[link] tag :D
cesura Featured By Owner May 25, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Voila! :D
hetyife Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2012
So I tagged you in this journal thingy [link] Don't feel obligated to reply, just a bit of fun :D
cesura Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Done! It was fun!
KaizokuShojo Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2011   Traditional Artist
I notice that you like Murdock. You're welcome to join the #Dwight-Schultz-Group if you feel so inclined.
Have a nice day!
cesura Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
I just might do that, thank you. :D
ADarkDezine Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
HI sarah!!!! it is me linda.
Aasharu Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2010
I'd like to thank you for faving my story. I really appreciate it.
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