Writing Project #9: Coffee with Marie
So, it's been a trying week; sleep has not exactly come easily to me and I keep waking up way too early in the morning for no apparent reason at all. That's made it hard to focus on what I need to do around the house in addition to actually writing. I've started four different little writings but none of them got beyond a paragraph before I lost my muse. Of course, this got a little spurred after I took some time to relax with some DVD boxed sets, a movie or two, and in general relax my mind.

(Tangentially, I'd recommend "Firefly" to people who like decent character writing. Decent, not stellar, but that's better than most shows which are on television of late. It's a lot better than "Heroes" lately . . .)

In any case, this goes back to some of the other writings, meshing together in ways. I think underneath all this I've worked out the setting and how things connect. I suppose that means I need to settle into a chair sometime and pound it all out into a short story for another attempt at submission.

I think the next one is going to be different entirely in scope. Probably another fan-fiction piece, because those really do relax my muse.



"That was a harrowing experience, I'm sure several people would say." Jerome rubbed at his cheek and poured coffee from the pot into two cups. One for his guest, and one for himself. He stirred in sugar, and sank into a seat with a sigh. "Even without the interference."

"I did warn you. The paths are no longer safe with any certainty, and there are those who watch them for those they call prey." The woman sitting across from Jerome spoke evenly, dispassionately. She sipped at a cup of coffee and frowned into it. "What is it with you people and drinking bitter drinks? Last time it was cocoa . . ."

"You should add some milk or sugar." He said, waving a hand vaguely. "Most people do, one or the other. Or both." She shrugged and set her cup down, looking at him steadily. "So, there are other gateways which have been opened besides this one?"

"Yes, some of which have existed naturally for many years. Previous generations have used them before. Their secret was lost, some generations ago, when a great many of the wisest minds in this world were also lost." She looked towards the window. "There are some who survived to pass down other knowledge, but still there was much which was lost."

"I know. I find myself wishing Anton told me a whole lot more than he did." Jerome muttered and sat back with a soft sigh. "What do you think, Marie?" She turned her head to regard him with barely veiled amusement, and he sighed. "What do you recommend I do about this problem? I won't get paid unless I can track down what happened to him, and bring him back."

"The child who fell through."

"Yes."

She stood and walked to the window, staring at the street outside and the trees lining it. Jerome bit the corner of his mouth, trying to keep himself from exploding angrily at the theatrics Marie always subjected him to. It was better than being treated like an idiot, like some of his other contacts.

She spoke slowly, thoughtfully, turning around. "You will not find him, not in the manner you are searching. He is lost, body and mind, beyond this world. The gateways will not lead you to him, and those who would answer any summons you cast out would also not know." Marie raised a hand to gesture vaguely. "There are only a few who would know where to look for him, and they would ask a heavy price for their help."

"That's my business, not yours. I can afford it."

She sat down and looked down into her lap for a moment before speaking. "Jerome Richter, you have been actively invested in the matter ever since you were discovered and awakened by Aliandros. You have fought for your people, and you have done many things which have made you an enemy beyond the gateways." She lifted her cup and studied it before taking a sip. "There are many who would see you not simply killed but destroyed. Mind, body, and soul."

"I take that risk every time-"

"You do not understand." She cut him off with a fierce chopping motion of her fingers. "There once was an authority in place which set the code of conduct for the spirit world, but it has been silent and even perhaps has failed entirely. Since then, everything has become chaos outside of the gatherings. Lords have been unable to hold together any sort of order without overextending their powers. The other worlds are as open to the spirit world as yours is, and there have been . . . some leaks."

Marie set down the cup and looked away for a long and silent moment before standing up. "If you pursue this any further, it is entirely likely you will not return. I would also add, it is far more certain the child will not. You ask always for my advice, and now I give it. Make your peace with this failure, and let it go."

Jerome was quiet, and drank the whole of his cup before speaking, softly. "I can't. If I don't do this, then I can't be paid. And I really do need the money."

"This matter is not about material wealth."

"Damn straight on that, it's about what that material wealth can do to keep me moving from day to day." He set the cup down. "So who is it I need to talk to, Marie, to get a good lead?"

"I want no part of this self-destruction."

"I want a name. I'll leave yours out of it, I promise."

She closed her eyes, and sighed softly, shaking her head. "Francis Reynard. And may whatever gods you pray to help you on your journey."