Post by cooltubesource on Nov 23, 2019 2:54:50 GMT -5
A letter eventually finds it's way to the hands of Kenzi Grey-Lacklan as she limps her way through her daily walk in the halls of the hospital, though the exhausted pigeon seems quite confused as to why its target was not where it had initially been instructed to go. Still, it is delighted to finally find Kenzi, deliver its cargo, and accept the light scratch atop its head. The letter, written on strong paper and bearing the signet of the firebird taking flight, is filled with the expected elegant script in red ink, and has tiny spots that make the writing smudgy at times, which are evident to Kenzi to be tiny teardrops
My Dark Goddess
The silence is maddening. No click or clack from your computer as you write. No soft tick from your tablet as you edit. No white noise from the television as you study. No soft grumbling about Lael making a nest of your hair. Just silence. Enough to fill my ears with the toll of dread.
The last two weeks have been misery without you near, but the last two days without your spirit has been tenfold. My soul aches, and I can tell you without shame, as the only person who can read and understand these words, that I have wept until slumber while cradling a cardboard cutout of my heart. And while my ego hopes that your despair equals my own, my mind hopes that it does not, for I would never wish upon you this pain I feel.
That being said, I refuse to let anything in this world but you find itself in control over me. I will be beholden to no one or thing that is not you. Our world has changed drastically in such a short span, and those I was foolish enough to trust have shown themselves to be what I always feared. And your spirit, that spirit which could hold true for even the worst of the world, is caught up in the lie. But I have faith that you will see the truth and cast down the liars in our midst.
You are my everything, my Beloved, and together we shall always stand strong against the world. My spirit shall follow you into the darkness eternal, but my mortal flesh hopes you see the truth before we wither away.
Your Porcelain Princess
~~Thursday, November 21st, 2019~~
The dark car creeps slowly down the street lined with palm trees, coming to a stop before a massive gate of wrought iron, a “G-L” written in cursive dominating the center of the border, and the driver’s window lowers. A head pops out, the pale face wearing sunglasses topped by short-cropped dark hair, and looks left and right.
“Hello?”
The man’s question goes unanswered as he looks into the small structure next to the gate. The head retreats back into the car for a moment, and then returns.
“Is anyone they-uh?”
The strong Maine accent sounds at odds with the crisp delivery of the words, and finds more silence in response. His mouth tightens and he opens his door, stepping out into the muted sunshine, and into the structure. A single chair and monitor rests unused, the monitor showing the space directly behind them, from the main road and to the private path leading to the gate. The man reaches forward and flips a large switch on the desk and is rewarded by the groan of the gates separating. He climbs back into the car and slowly drives through the gate once he has room, making his way across the driveway leading to the odd egg-shaped white house before it circles back to head the other direction.
“La port ne rien savoir faire de ses dix doigts.”
In the back of the long car, Aveline Lacklan’s face is unreadable. In a black dress with green pleats, and wearing a black scarf around her head to only show her face, the woman’s green eyes blaze as she turns from the gate they pass and to the front yard. They settle on a fountain before the large house, but then roll when she realizes that the two figures in the fountain were nude women, one with a multitude of braids atop her head and the other with what seemed to be tiny rubies in the eye sockets.
“Les lesbiennes sont les pires.”
She smiles as the car comes to a stop, though it faded into a frown after a moment. Just outside of her window, the recognizable, if somewhat silly, Grey-Lacklan vehicle was parked before the house crookedly, as she had expected, but it seemed filthy. The Knight Industries replica was certainly in need of a wash! Her daughters should know better. And when her door is opened by her driver, Aveline steps out into the soft California sunshine, the air still somewhat chilled from the week’s rain, and peers through the window of the car and sees, to her surprise, a pile of crumpled speeding and parking citations on the floor mats. She was proud of her step-daughter for learning how to drive, but she should caution her about being so reckless.
Turning from the car, Aveline motions towards the trunk of her own car, one of the fleet belonging to the House, and the driver gives her a deep nod before opening the trunk and gathering her things. Aveline spares the garish and profane fountain another disapproving look and then turns her attention toward the house. After an odd back-and-forth between herself and her daughter-in-law which included the deed of a massive yacht and helicopter, the funds for the down payment of the odd two story house in the hills of Hollywood had brought a roof over the Grey-Lacklan heads. And while Aveline had come to generally approve of Kenzi and Sarah being together...though the details of their relationship still made her skin crawl...she wished they had chosen a different place to put down their roots. Far too many of THEIR kind, that was for certain.
With a deep breath, Aveline strides forward, the heavy skirt of the dress making deep le swish! sounds, and her flat slippers giving shallow plops!, as she climbs up the steps. When reaching for the doorbell, she sees that the door is slightly ajar, and one of her eyebrows raise. Instead of pressing the doorbell, she pushes the door and it opens wide. Giving a shrug of her shoulders, she steps into the Grey-Lacklan house for the first time and immediately stops in her tracks.
“Sacré Dieu!”
Before her, the foyer was in shambles. On her left, shoes littered the floor, a tornado of colors and styles, with several parasols littered throughout. On the right, discarded bits of clothing, papers, and what looked to be crumpled potato chip bags were spread all throughout. Leading away from the door and into a living space were more bits of clothing, as well as more papers, each covered in paint, though with the contents hard to see. In the center of the room sat Sarah, her back to her, her platinum hair in a messy braid down her back, sitting on a stool in front of an easel, a large canvas before you.
“Kenzi?!”
The desperate surprise in Sarah’s voice as she turned toward the door took away Aveline’s breath.
“Kenzi?! Oh, thank GOD! I have missed you so much! I am so fucking sorr-”
She cuts off abruptly as she fully turns as sees Aveline, and she sways as she stumbles off the stool. Even from across the room, Aveline can see the dull haze of drink in Sarah’s red eyes, can see it in her movements. Aveline’s mouth turns sharp in its corners as she thinks of the time. 10 in the morning and the silly girl was clearly several cups deep!
“Not quite, Daughter.”
Sarah’s shoulders slump and her eyes close.
“...fucking damnit…”
Aveline’s eyes go wide as Sarah turns back to her stool and easel.
“La langue!”
She then narrows her eyes as Sarah sits back down on the stool and goes back to her painting. With a growl, Aveline walks fully into the house and takes a moment to take in more detail. A large couch to the left, along with a television, and the right heads towards what she assumes is the kitchen, as well as a set of stairs in the center leading upward. But her eyes mostly find the scattered clothing and litter.
“I remember you being a tad bit neater, Daughter. And sober.”
She turns her head back to Sarah in time to see her shrug her shoulders.
“...going through some stuff…”
Sarah sighs and raises her hand to her canvas, a paint brush dipped in black going back to work on what is clearly a portrait of the other Grey-Lacklan. As Aveline looks around, she is able to take in more of the pieces of paper, and she sees picture after picture of Kenzi. Some detailed, some cartoonish. In some, her face is strong and fierce, a face that Aveline has personally seen across the ring from her. In others, she is smiling and joyful. There was even one with tiny hearts in place of her pupils.
“Are...are you two...okay?”
The Frenchwoman’s voice is low as she asks, low and filled with caution. The paint brush stops at the question, but it continues again, and she only receives silence in response. She opens her mouth to ask again, but Sarah’s voice pipes up.
“What ARE you doing here, anyway, Step-Mumsie?”
Aveline blinks in surprise at the question.
“I was invited.”
She looks towards the kitchen, the reason for her visit returning to her after the initial confusion of the whirlwind of mess, and her face flashes red.
“Why do I not smell turkey? Is the cook still brining it?”
“What ARE you talking about?”
“Thanksgiving, Daughter! Your country’s celebration of the grape and pillage of the locals and bringing them the Light under pain of death!”
She turns back to Sarah and flashes a wide smile.
“I brought those creamed onions you like!”
She gestures towards the door as her driver enters the room with three back slung over his shoulder and a foil-covered pan in his hands. Sarah slowly turns on her stool and her face slackens into incomprehension.
“Thanks...I...what…”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
“Step-Mumsie...Ava...Thanksgiving is NEXT week…”
Aveline’s face slowly fall and her mouth opens. After a second, her eyebrows lift in understanding.
“Oh.”
She looks back toward her driver and the pile of bags across his back and then back to Sarah. She shrugs and gives her another smile.
“Well! I guess that means I will simply stay the week! Show me to my room!”
The paintbrush in Sarah’s hand begins to shake so bad that tiny flecks of paint fly and splatter around the room.
Over the next few days, Aveline found Sarah drinking a LOT. She drank from a wine glass as they broke their fast with eggs and oatmeal. She drank from a different glass while painting. She drank from yet another while she performed that profane “yoga” exercise. She no doubt did THAT “exercise” in order to be a better lesbian. Disgusting. Aveline asked several times about why she was drinking so much, particularly so early in the day, but always got the same response:
“...it keeps the misery away…”
Aveline would never drink away her worries, of course, but she supposed she somewhat understood. The Grey-Lacklans had had a very public argument several days ago, a continuation to the argument they had been having since that wonderfully entertaining day of her very own Harvest Festival when she let the truth about Angie’s parentage be known. The argument had been about the hated Roxy Cotton, and-
“That stupid BITCH!”
Aveline’s eyes bug out at the loud crash of the glass shattering against the wall. Yet another prodding of Sarah’s recent uptick in drinking had led to this sudden outburst.
“That FUCKING BITCH, Roxy! EVERYTHING just HAS to be about HER, doesn’t it?! That piece of GUTTERTRASH saunters her slutty-ass way to the ring to ‘help’ me in my match when Donovan ‘somehow’ ends up hurt, and WHAT happens? The BITCH shows just how SHITTY she is! That bitch PROVES my point and argument to Kenzi! She does EXACTLY what I have ALWAYS said about her, being a fake piece of crap, and what happens? The LONGEST winning streak in Coalition HISTORY comes to an end because SHE needs to make the entire WORLD about HER!”
Sarah begins pacing back and forth, her arms flailing about, and she nearly slips in the small pool left by the tossed wine.
“And when I KINDLY bring it up to my DARLING WIFE, when I KINDLY make it CLEAR that I will never EVER FUCKING EVER allow that stupid COW Roxy have ANY hold or sway over me, Kenzi goes NUCLEAR. Yet AGAIN, she is SO blinded by her heart’s penchant to hold onto strays that she cannot see the TRUTH for what it is! She cannot SEE that Roxy is a SHIT person who we should never EVER EVER FUCKING EVER associate with EVER FUCKING AGAIN. For the love of GOD, why can’t Kenzi get over herself and see the TRUTH?! Why can’t-”
Now Sarah does slip to the floor in her pacing and lands on her bottom. She quickly pulls her knees into her body and burries her head within them. At first, Aveline is not concerned, but then she hears a noise which makes even the mad Frenchwoman empathetic: Tears. She rushes over and places her hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“...why won’t she just come home, Ava? Why won’t she…”
Aveline looks down at Sarah with true concern. Sarah was the daughter of a powerful man. She was educated and worldly. Well traveled. Strong. Filled with perseverance. A rightful champion of the world. But without Kenzi? She was a mess.
“...perhaps…”
She licks her lips as she contemplates bringing up the subject. Sarah was “taking a break” from all of her coworkers...she had even given their small house staff the week off...and so she was not aware of some things. Aveline, however, was. And she was aware that Kenzi spent a day at the Great Wall in China with her “spiritual adviser” Terri...who Aveline knew was just yet another snake oil salesperson peddling the latest lie by Satan...and the two were seen to be all smiles. Terri was...of course...blonde and pretty.
“...have you thought...and I perish having to mention this, Daughter...but perhaps...perhaps Kenzi’s trip is not about this quest for an actor’s blasphemous Bible.”
Sarah looks up, her red eyes lined with tears and confusion..
“...what?”
Aveline bites her lip but finishes.
“Perhaps it is about being...unfaithful. I do not-”
Aveline doesn’t remember Sarah jumping to her feet. She doesn’t remember seeing the hand curl into a fist and swing her way. She doesn’t remember that fist connecting with her head hard enough to make her see stars. She doesn’t remember Sarah screaming down at her to never say that again. But she does remember waking up on the floor, tasting the iron that was the blood in her mouth, and smiling. THERE was that fire she was looking for!
The days stretched into the weekend and Sarah began to get out of her funk. The drinking didn’t end, no matter HOW many times Aveline sweetly reminded her that only loose harlots drunk that much and perhaps she should actually do God proud and NOT be that way, but her spirits did. The misery of Kenzi being gone, a period of time quickly approaching three weeks, was being burned away by anger and frustration. As she had expected, Aveline was able to proud out that anger and focus by reminding her of how Roxy had been responsible for-
“The LONGEST winning streak EVER! GONE! ENDED! SNAPPED!”
Each yelled word was met with Sarah either kicking or punching the heavy back Aveline held. The disgusting stretching routine had been left behind...she did NOT want to think about how these lesbians used things like “downward dog”...for something more appropriate. Sarah was still dressed like a harlot...she wore very little while she worked out, something that was held over back from their days of working out together years ago...while Aveline was far more appropriate in a body suit that still allowed for her head scarf.
“I...I...I am THE World’s Champion! And I am QUICKLY becoming the most DOMINANT World’s Champion there has ever BEEN! Since my return to the roster after Wrestlestock, I have OBLITERATED the ENTIRE company! Literally NO ONE has won 12 matches in a row before me. Not Tyvola. Not Zane. Not Declan. Not Vain. But that ENDED at the hands of TWO FUCKING LOSERS because, apparently, the universe decided that MY heat, that MY momentum, that MY ability, needed to be sucked out by the LEECHES and INSECTS below me feet. Leeches like Roxy ‘Guttertrash’ Cowton!”
She leans back and then shoots forward with a knee strike so powerful that it knocks Aveline back on her heels. While she had slept for what felt like an eternity, she had been paying attention since the dragon awoke for Outlast, and the increase in knee strikes to Sarah’s offense pleased her. Her husband, il est ressuscité, would certainly be pleased to see more of his style coming out in his daughter. Well, in THIS daughter, anyway. And the mist! She was very happy to see that return!
“‘Find out?!’ That bitch will find my goddamn FIST in her fake fucking FACE, I swear to GOD!”
Aveline’s jaw still hurt from when Sarah had punched her over her mild suggestion that Kenzi’s trip was to break their wedding vow...could even still taste the blood a bit...but she had been elated when she had finally gotten Sarah to take a peek at the social goings-on of her peers. Of all things, Roxy had posted a picture of the smiling Kenzi and Terri at the Great Wall, and then followed that up by suggesting that, perhaps, Kenzi should “find out” if Terri was “better” than Sarah. Her Step-Daughter’s screams and howls of rage over Roxy’s no doubt “innocent” attempts to sway Kenzi’s affections away from Sarah had been a large part of her renewed focus.
“And to make me lose to freakin’ HIDE Yamazaki?! Sweet Mother! THAT guy?! For all of his ferociousness, for all of his grit and strength, he has spent the vast majority of the year being talked down to by that manchild Johnny for coming up short in his latest match. Honestly, unless YOU were by his side in cooperative matches, the only victory he could find was being happy that he successfully walked through the door without it swinging shut and hitting him in the face! I once saw that dude drop eight out of nine matches! Without YOU to inspire him, he is no better than Raab!
“Oh, and THAT guy! For FUCK’S sake! The fact that you can break down ‘Black Ice’ to be ‘so...the dude wears a mask and beats on his woman? I guess?’ is as pathetic as Raab’s continued reliance on saying that I ‘lied’ about something without ever actually saying what I ‘lied’ about. I ABHOR liars, Step-Mumsie. I ABHOR even the THOUGHT of them. And over and over again, Raab goes back to the idea that I am unworthy, I am not a real champion, I have to cheat to win, et cetera et cetera. Well, AFTER he waits for me to produce my promotional videos and THEN record his own after he watches them so that he knows what he’s supposed to say. FUCK, I hate that shit. Either come at me with YOUR own tactics and strategy, come at my titles and my records with YOUR own words or get the FUCK OUT OF MY RING!”
She drives several knees into the bag and Aveline snickers. She, too, had faced the “brilliance” that was “certain entertainment professionals” offering the “rebuttal but only in a way that you yourself are not allowed to offer a rebuttal” technique.
Silly, that.
And like any true member of the House of Lacklan, she put them down when it mattered.
“And now...NOW...I have to face those two idiots again! Ichabod is likely laughing his ASS off! ‘Sarah...they BEAT YOU last week...they should get ANOTHER match against you! Now hold on whilst I smoke my cloves and be mysterious.’”
Aveline nodded in silent approval of how well Sarah mimmicked the current Creative Director.
“And! AND! To make matters WORSE, I have to do it alongside freakin’ RYDELL!”
To this, Aveline giggles as the bag moves against her. Lo! The Rydells of the world.
“I swear to GOD, Step-Mumsie, that I WILL kick that bastard’s ASS if he so much as TOUCHES Angelica in a way I don’t like! I promised the Mark of Cain on any who would hurt her...well, at least outside of the normal confines of a professional wrestling match...and if that idiot thinks he can use this opportunity to rise above his station as the laughable gatekeeper, hoo BOY does he have an ass-kicking coming to him. Same with Deimos!”
Aveline could feel her cheeks flush for a moment, and Sarah’s eyes suddenly turning into dangerous slits confirmed that she was unable to hide it.
“Gross, Step-Mumsie. You DO realize that Deimos once referred to my promotional styling as ‘verbal diarrhea,’ yes?”
Aveline’s shade of scarlet does not lessen and Sarah rolls her eyes as she punches the bag.
“You and older men who obscure they faces. Whatev. THAT guy had better realize VERY quickly that any of my so-called ‘inadequacies’ are but the falsehoods of lesser men and that he will be led...LED, I say...to cooperative glory as long as he stays focused. And as long as he doesn’t ‘accidentally’ break Angelica’s neck before I do, of course. He is FUUUUUCKED if he does that.”
Aveline chews on her lips for a moment in thought, then steps over to one of the tables in the small room the Grey-Lacklans used for light workouts and retrieves her phone. A few presses of buttons and a text goes out.
Sarah looks at Aveline flatly.
“You cannot possibly tell me, with the full truth of the Light, that you and Phrixus Deimos actually text one ano-”
Vous avez un message!
Sarah’s eyes go wide as the notification cuts her off. Aveline smiles...and then struggles to keep the smile in place as she reads:
“He...er...he says sure!”
Sarah’s eyes narrow in suspicion as she returns to the bag with punches, but she otherwise remains silent. Aveline places her phone back down on the table and sets herself up behind the bag.
“...why didn’t you tell me…?”
Aveline blinks in confusion and opens her mouth to respond but Sarah removes the need.
“Why did you fucking tell me about Angelica?!”
A strong two-punch combo punctuate her screamed question.
“Why the FUCK did YOU wait for so goddamn long?!”
Aveline shakes her head and sighs as she holds the bag.
“We have been over this, Daughter. Several times.”
“Then we will go ovER IT AGAIN!”
Sarah screams out the final few syllables as she punches the bag, then pushes herself away and begins pacing back and forth in small, tight lines, her left hand wringing her right wrist all the while.
“It was my RIGHT to know, Ava! It was my goddamn RIGHT to know as SOON as YOU found out! I understand my Beloved’s hesitation...but yours?!”
Aveline remains silent, allowing Sarah to get out all of her words. This was not the first time they had played out this scene.
“Over two years! Over two FUCKING YEARS! I have flown across the WORLD with that lying bitch, Ava! And ALL that time she was just trying to sneak into my life and STEAL my fire! STEAL my shine! And YOU knew for MOST of it!”
Aveline shakes her head as Sarah begins to wind down.
“I gave her every opportunity, Sarah. Over and again. I was nice. Helpful. Mean. Cross. Passive. Aggressive. Over and again with different tactics. It had to come from her. But you are wrong, Daughter! She did NOT know for that long! She-”
“No! YOU are wrong!”
Ava takes an involuntary step back as Sarah whirls on her with a face full of rage.
“Angelica has ALWAYS known. Or at least has known for MOST of her life. That...that…WHORE...Mary...she probably told Angelica the truth as she gave her babe suck! Angelica probably dreamed of taking MY life, of taking MY father, and played out the scenarios with her dolls! And just because you AND Kenzi have fallen for the LIE that is Vaughn doesn’t change the fact that I know the TRUTH!”
Aveline takes in a few breaths to steady herself and allow her to keep her face passive.
“Yes, as you have said. But I speak truth, Daughter. Mary did not tell Angelica until she herself was pressured, much in the way that Kenzi pressured me. Angelica did not-”
She cuts off as Sarah shoots forward and shoves a finger into her face.
“YOU are BLIND...because you are not a TRUE Lacklan. KENZI is BLIND...because she is not a TRUE Lacklan.”
Sarah shakes her head and begins pacing again.
“Its not your fault, of course. Both of you married into the family. But Angelica? She’s BLOOD, Ava. What we do is IN her. And everything she has done?”
She holds up her hand and ticks off her fingers.
“Came up with a story about being kicked from her family? Just so happened to join the company Kenzi and I were in together? Immediately befriend me to the point of having a holiday away from Kenzi so that she could become intimate with who I am? Follow me to the UGWC despite none of our other friends initially doing so? Living in my goddamn HOUSE so as to ingrain herself with the staff and the people? Become the star youth pastor for the church?”
She turns her splayed fingers into a fist with the last tick and slams it into the wall with a grunt.
“All of that? All of that manipulation? It is EXACTLY what I would do in her position.”
She whirls on Aveline again.
“Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that my ability to mimic voices is what led to you ‘going away’ for a while because I was feeling threatened. Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that I absolutely, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT, dug at Kenzi’s relationship to help push along her breakup with that evil bitch Song. Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that I then absolutely emotionally seduced Kenzi after she made it clear that she didn’t want what I was offering. And that’s just my personal life! My career is FILLED with examples of me befriending people...usually older women who can teach me things...and then turning on them when I no longer needed them! What Angelica has done is LITERALLY what I do! What ANY Lacklan does! IT IS WHAT WE DO!”
She turns away from Aveline again and resumes her rapid, aggressive pacing.
“But holy FUCK is this ALL going to backfire on her! Because I will NOT be used! I will NOT be manipulated! I will NOT be fooled by the LIE that is ‘sweet’ Angelica Vaughn which confuses the masses! I will NOT allow MYSELF to be led astray in the same way you and Kenzi have! And to PROVE it, to PROVE that I am RIGHT, I am going to break every fucking bone in Angelica’s goddamn BODY until she cries out to the Heavens: ‘Yes! Yes! It is all true, my older, wiser, prettier, smarter, and FAR more LOYAL Big Sister! I conspired against you! I conspired to STEAL Daddy’s love! And money! And fortune! And land! And church! AND EVERYTHING!’”
Sarah screams and runs forward, leaping off one foot and pushing the other leg out as she sends a supergirl punch into the bag.
“I NEVER should have listened to Father! I NEVER should have tried to make friends outside of the Compound! I NEVER should have TRUSTED people who were not on the Path! But I DID listen to Father and now have to deal with a life FULL of LIARS and WHORES!”
She sends in a few more punches to accentuate her screams. After the punches, she leans her head back and screams wordlessly into the air, and then leans forward and rests her head against the bag. Her shoulders slouch as her body moves up and down in great drafts of breath. Aveline lets out her own light breath, confident that the storm has been weathered. She reaches out and gently lays a hand on Sarah’s right shoulder, her fingers just barely touching the large tattoo of the white mask.
“Speaking of your father…”
Her fingers dance lightly on Sarah’s shoulder, tracing the etches in the mask. The shadow work her tattoo artist had added over the last two years was quite good.
“...and your sister...and wife...and me, for that matter…”
She moves from around the bag and places her other hand on Sarah’s left shoulder, these fingers tracing the tattoo of the cross in the center of a sunburst.
“...have you thought of what I asked?”
Sarah’s body rises and falls a few times as she breathes in deeply. The two of them had spoken many times in the last few weeks, perhaps having longer and more detailed conversations in that time than at any other time since they first met six years ago, and chief among those conversations was the tattoo on her left shoulder. More than just a commemorative piece for winning her first world championship, it was a symbol important to their family. The symbol for the Path of the Light Church.
“Your father was the Voice of God, the Hammer of His will. I am Le Bord de Dieu, the blade, the edge.”
She could almost feel the scars on her arms, one hundred on each arm, given to herself while she was “away,” as Sarah had so politely put it. She well remember the searing pain of the neat and surgical cuts, and the agonizing tear of the jagged set. But they had been worth it.
“What are you? Who are you?”
Sarah looks up at Aveline, having to crane her neck a touch in order to meet the three inch height difference.
“I am the Firestarter.”
Aveline smiles at the defiance in her voice. She squeezes Sarah’s shoulders with a strength that would surprise people who focused on how gaunt she had become.
“Yes. But that are you to God? To the Church? To the people who follow? That is the question you must ponder. And decide upon soon, I think.”
Sarah gives her a nod, and then her face softens from defiance into...care? She reaches up and lightly touches one of Aveline’s sharp and pronounced cheekbones.
“When did you get so old?”
Aveline gives Sarah a flat look and successfully holds in the retort of “When you locked me away,” and instead gives her an amused smile.
“I am not yet thirty, Child.”
Sarah smiles and gives a small giggle.
“Yeah...but you act like you’re sixty, so…”
Aveline gives her a flat stare again, and this time does not break it. She begins a retort about how someone needed to lead the House while OTHERS spent too much time engaging in gross, despicable lesb-
“I promised Father I would take care of you.”
The sincerity in Sarah’s words kill the retort before it could come. Sarah’s bright eyes let out a tear which had been threatening to fall all throughout her tirade about Angelica.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
Aveline’s green eyes stare at her, threatening to join her step-daughter in tears. Aveline gives her a small nod, instead.
“And I am sorry for what I did to you.”
Sarah lunges forward and embraces her around the waist. Aveline’s smile is the picture of smug satisfaction.
The House of Lacklan would be strong under her thumb.
Strong, indeed.
My Dark Goddess
The silence is maddening. No click or clack from your computer as you write. No soft tick from your tablet as you edit. No white noise from the television as you study. No soft grumbling about Lael making a nest of your hair. Just silence. Enough to fill my ears with the toll of dread.
The last two weeks have been misery without you near, but the last two days without your spirit has been tenfold. My soul aches, and I can tell you without shame, as the only person who can read and understand these words, that I have wept until slumber while cradling a cardboard cutout of my heart. And while my ego hopes that your despair equals my own, my mind hopes that it does not, for I would never wish upon you this pain I feel.
That being said, I refuse to let anything in this world but you find itself in control over me. I will be beholden to no one or thing that is not you. Our world has changed drastically in such a short span, and those I was foolish enough to trust have shown themselves to be what I always feared. And your spirit, that spirit which could hold true for even the worst of the world, is caught up in the lie. But I have faith that you will see the truth and cast down the liars in our midst.
You are my everything, my Beloved, and together we shall always stand strong against the world. My spirit shall follow you into the darkness eternal, but my mortal flesh hopes you see the truth before we wither away.
Your Porcelain Princess
Presenting the House of Lacklan Saga Story of
Full Circle, Part III: Mother Knows Best
~~Thursday, November 21st, 2019~~
The dark car creeps slowly down the street lined with palm trees, coming to a stop before a massive gate of wrought iron, a “G-L” written in cursive dominating the center of the border, and the driver’s window lowers. A head pops out, the pale face wearing sunglasses topped by short-cropped dark hair, and looks left and right.
“Hello?”
The man’s question goes unanswered as he looks into the small structure next to the gate. The head retreats back into the car for a moment, and then returns.
“Is anyone they-uh?”
The strong Maine accent sounds at odds with the crisp delivery of the words, and finds more silence in response. His mouth tightens and he opens his door, stepping out into the muted sunshine, and into the structure. A single chair and monitor rests unused, the monitor showing the space directly behind them, from the main road and to the private path leading to the gate. The man reaches forward and flips a large switch on the desk and is rewarded by the groan of the gates separating. He climbs back into the car and slowly drives through the gate once he has room, making his way across the driveway leading to the odd egg-shaped white house before it circles back to head the other direction.
“La port ne rien savoir faire de ses dix doigts.”
In the back of the long car, Aveline Lacklan’s face is unreadable. In a black dress with green pleats, and wearing a black scarf around her head to only show her face, the woman’s green eyes blaze as she turns from the gate they pass and to the front yard. They settle on a fountain before the large house, but then roll when she realizes that the two figures in the fountain were nude women, one with a multitude of braids atop her head and the other with what seemed to be tiny rubies in the eye sockets.
“Les lesbiennes sont les pires.”
She smiles as the car comes to a stop, though it faded into a frown after a moment. Just outside of her window, the recognizable, if somewhat silly, Grey-Lacklan vehicle was parked before the house crookedly, as she had expected, but it seemed filthy. The Knight Industries replica was certainly in need of a wash! Her daughters should know better. And when her door is opened by her driver, Aveline steps out into the soft California sunshine, the air still somewhat chilled from the week’s rain, and peers through the window of the car and sees, to her surprise, a pile of crumpled speeding and parking citations on the floor mats. She was proud of her step-daughter for learning how to drive, but she should caution her about being so reckless.
Turning from the car, Aveline motions towards the trunk of her own car, one of the fleet belonging to the House, and the driver gives her a deep nod before opening the trunk and gathering her things. Aveline spares the garish and profane fountain another disapproving look and then turns her attention toward the house. After an odd back-and-forth between herself and her daughter-in-law which included the deed of a massive yacht and helicopter, the funds for the down payment of the odd two story house in the hills of Hollywood had brought a roof over the Grey-Lacklan heads. And while Aveline had come to generally approve of Kenzi and Sarah being together...though the details of their relationship still made her skin crawl...she wished they had chosen a different place to put down their roots. Far too many of THEIR kind, that was for certain.
With a deep breath, Aveline strides forward, the heavy skirt of the dress making deep le swish! sounds, and her flat slippers giving shallow plops!, as she climbs up the steps. When reaching for the doorbell, she sees that the door is slightly ajar, and one of her eyebrows raise. Instead of pressing the doorbell, she pushes the door and it opens wide. Giving a shrug of her shoulders, she steps into the Grey-Lacklan house for the first time and immediately stops in her tracks.
“Sacré Dieu!”
Before her, the foyer was in shambles. On her left, shoes littered the floor, a tornado of colors and styles, with several parasols littered throughout. On the right, discarded bits of clothing, papers, and what looked to be crumpled potato chip bags were spread all throughout. Leading away from the door and into a living space were more bits of clothing, as well as more papers, each covered in paint, though with the contents hard to see. In the center of the room sat Sarah, her back to her, her platinum hair in a messy braid down her back, sitting on a stool in front of an easel, a large canvas before you.
“Kenzi?!”
The desperate surprise in Sarah’s voice as she turned toward the door took away Aveline’s breath.
“Kenzi?! Oh, thank GOD! I have missed you so much! I am so fucking sorr-”
She cuts off abruptly as she fully turns as sees Aveline, and she sways as she stumbles off the stool. Even from across the room, Aveline can see the dull haze of drink in Sarah’s red eyes, can see it in her movements. Aveline’s mouth turns sharp in its corners as she thinks of the time. 10 in the morning and the silly girl was clearly several cups deep!
“Not quite, Daughter.”
Sarah’s shoulders slump and her eyes close.
“...fucking damnit…”
Aveline’s eyes go wide as Sarah turns back to her stool and easel.
“La langue!”
She then narrows her eyes as Sarah sits back down on the stool and goes back to her painting. With a growl, Aveline walks fully into the house and takes a moment to take in more detail. A large couch to the left, along with a television, and the right heads towards what she assumes is the kitchen, as well as a set of stairs in the center leading upward. But her eyes mostly find the scattered clothing and litter.
“I remember you being a tad bit neater, Daughter. And sober.”
She turns her head back to Sarah in time to see her shrug her shoulders.
“...going through some stuff…”
Sarah sighs and raises her hand to her canvas, a paint brush dipped in black going back to work on what is clearly a portrait of the other Grey-Lacklan. As Aveline looks around, she is able to take in more of the pieces of paper, and she sees picture after picture of Kenzi. Some detailed, some cartoonish. In some, her face is strong and fierce, a face that Aveline has personally seen across the ring from her. In others, she is smiling and joyful. There was even one with tiny hearts in place of her pupils.
“Are...are you two...okay?”
The Frenchwoman’s voice is low as she asks, low and filled with caution. The paint brush stops at the question, but it continues again, and she only receives silence in response. She opens her mouth to ask again, but Sarah’s voice pipes up.
“What ARE you doing here, anyway, Step-Mumsie?”
Aveline blinks in surprise at the question.
“I was invited.”
She looks towards the kitchen, the reason for her visit returning to her after the initial confusion of the whirlwind of mess, and her face flashes red.
“Why do I not smell turkey? Is the cook still brining it?”
“What ARE you talking about?”
“Thanksgiving, Daughter! Your country’s celebration of the grape and pillage of the locals and bringing them the Light under pain of death!”
She turns back to Sarah and flashes a wide smile.
“I brought those creamed onions you like!”
She gestures towards the door as her driver enters the room with three back slung over his shoulder and a foil-covered pan in his hands. Sarah slowly turns on her stool and her face slackens into incomprehension.
“Thanks...I...what…”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
“Step-Mumsie...Ava...Thanksgiving is NEXT week…”
Aveline’s face slowly fall and her mouth opens. After a second, her eyebrows lift in understanding.
“Oh.”
She looks back toward her driver and the pile of bags across his back and then back to Sarah. She shrugs and gives her another smile.
“Well! I guess that means I will simply stay the week! Show me to my room!”
The paintbrush in Sarah’s hand begins to shake so bad that tiny flecks of paint fly and splatter around the room.
Over the next few days, Aveline found Sarah drinking a LOT. She drank from a wine glass as they broke their fast with eggs and oatmeal. She drank from a different glass while painting. She drank from yet another while she performed that profane “yoga” exercise. She no doubt did THAT “exercise” in order to be a better lesbian. Disgusting. Aveline asked several times about why she was drinking so much, particularly so early in the day, but always got the same response:
“...it keeps the misery away…”
Aveline would never drink away her worries, of course, but she supposed she somewhat understood. The Grey-Lacklans had had a very public argument several days ago, a continuation to the argument they had been having since that wonderfully entertaining day of her very own Harvest Festival when she let the truth about Angie’s parentage be known. The argument had been about the hated Roxy Cotton, and-
“That stupid BITCH!”
Aveline’s eyes bug out at the loud crash of the glass shattering against the wall. Yet another prodding of Sarah’s recent uptick in drinking had led to this sudden outburst.
“That FUCKING BITCH, Roxy! EVERYTHING just HAS to be about HER, doesn’t it?! That piece of GUTTERTRASH saunters her slutty-ass way to the ring to ‘help’ me in my match when Donovan ‘somehow’ ends up hurt, and WHAT happens? The BITCH shows just how SHITTY she is! That bitch PROVES my point and argument to Kenzi! She does EXACTLY what I have ALWAYS said about her, being a fake piece of crap, and what happens? The LONGEST winning streak in Coalition HISTORY comes to an end because SHE needs to make the entire WORLD about HER!”
Sarah begins pacing back and forth, her arms flailing about, and she nearly slips in the small pool left by the tossed wine.
“And when I KINDLY bring it up to my DARLING WIFE, when I KINDLY make it CLEAR that I will never EVER FUCKING EVER allow that stupid COW Roxy have ANY hold or sway over me, Kenzi goes NUCLEAR. Yet AGAIN, she is SO blinded by her heart’s penchant to hold onto strays that she cannot see the TRUTH for what it is! She cannot SEE that Roxy is a SHIT person who we should never EVER EVER FUCKING EVER associate with EVER FUCKING AGAIN. For the love of GOD, why can’t Kenzi get over herself and see the TRUTH?! Why can’t-”
Now Sarah does slip to the floor in her pacing and lands on her bottom. She quickly pulls her knees into her body and burries her head within them. At first, Aveline is not concerned, but then she hears a noise which makes even the mad Frenchwoman empathetic: Tears. She rushes over and places her hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“...why won’t she just come home, Ava? Why won’t she…”
Aveline looks down at Sarah with true concern. Sarah was the daughter of a powerful man. She was educated and worldly. Well traveled. Strong. Filled with perseverance. A rightful champion of the world. But without Kenzi? She was a mess.
“...perhaps…”
She licks her lips as she contemplates bringing up the subject. Sarah was “taking a break” from all of her coworkers...she had even given their small house staff the week off...and so she was not aware of some things. Aveline, however, was. And she was aware that Kenzi spent a day at the Great Wall in China with her “spiritual adviser” Terri...who Aveline knew was just yet another snake oil salesperson peddling the latest lie by Satan...and the two were seen to be all smiles. Terri was...of course...blonde and pretty.
“...have you thought...and I perish having to mention this, Daughter...but perhaps...perhaps Kenzi’s trip is not about this quest for an actor’s blasphemous Bible.”
Sarah looks up, her red eyes lined with tears and confusion..
“...what?”
Aveline bites her lip but finishes.
“Perhaps it is about being...unfaithful. I do not-”
Aveline doesn’t remember Sarah jumping to her feet. She doesn’t remember seeing the hand curl into a fist and swing her way. She doesn’t remember that fist connecting with her head hard enough to make her see stars. She doesn’t remember Sarah screaming down at her to never say that again. But she does remember waking up on the floor, tasting the iron that was the blood in her mouth, and smiling. THERE was that fire she was looking for!
The days stretched into the weekend and Sarah began to get out of her funk. The drinking didn’t end, no matter HOW many times Aveline sweetly reminded her that only loose harlots drunk that much and perhaps she should actually do God proud and NOT be that way, but her spirits did. The misery of Kenzi being gone, a period of time quickly approaching three weeks, was being burned away by anger and frustration. As she had expected, Aveline was able to proud out that anger and focus by reminding her of how Roxy had been responsible for-
“The LONGEST winning streak EVER! GONE! ENDED! SNAPPED!”
Each yelled word was met with Sarah either kicking or punching the heavy back Aveline held. The disgusting stretching routine had been left behind...she did NOT want to think about how these lesbians used things like “downward dog”...for something more appropriate. Sarah was still dressed like a harlot...she wore very little while she worked out, something that was held over back from their days of working out together years ago...while Aveline was far more appropriate in a body suit that still allowed for her head scarf.
“I...I...I am THE World’s Champion! And I am QUICKLY becoming the most DOMINANT World’s Champion there has ever BEEN! Since my return to the roster after Wrestlestock, I have OBLITERATED the ENTIRE company! Literally NO ONE has won 12 matches in a row before me. Not Tyvola. Not Zane. Not Declan. Not Vain. But that ENDED at the hands of TWO FUCKING LOSERS because, apparently, the universe decided that MY heat, that MY momentum, that MY ability, needed to be sucked out by the LEECHES and INSECTS below me feet. Leeches like Roxy ‘Guttertrash’ Cowton!”
She leans back and then shoots forward with a knee strike so powerful that it knocks Aveline back on her heels. While she had slept for what felt like an eternity, she had been paying attention since the dragon awoke for Outlast, and the increase in knee strikes to Sarah’s offense pleased her. Her husband, il est ressuscité, would certainly be pleased to see more of his style coming out in his daughter. Well, in THIS daughter, anyway. And the mist! She was very happy to see that return!
“‘Find out?!’ That bitch will find my goddamn FIST in her fake fucking FACE, I swear to GOD!”
Aveline’s jaw still hurt from when Sarah had punched her over her mild suggestion that Kenzi’s trip was to break their wedding vow...could even still taste the blood a bit...but she had been elated when she had finally gotten Sarah to take a peek at the social goings-on of her peers. Of all things, Roxy had posted a picture of the smiling Kenzi and Terri at the Great Wall, and then followed that up by suggesting that, perhaps, Kenzi should “find out” if Terri was “better” than Sarah. Her Step-Daughter’s screams and howls of rage over Roxy’s no doubt “innocent” attempts to sway Kenzi’s affections away from Sarah had been a large part of her renewed focus.
“And to make me lose to freakin’ HIDE Yamazaki?! Sweet Mother! THAT guy?! For all of his ferociousness, for all of his grit and strength, he has spent the vast majority of the year being talked down to by that manchild Johnny for coming up short in his latest match. Honestly, unless YOU were by his side in cooperative matches, the only victory he could find was being happy that he successfully walked through the door without it swinging shut and hitting him in the face! I once saw that dude drop eight out of nine matches! Without YOU to inspire him, he is no better than Raab!
“Oh, and THAT guy! For FUCK’S sake! The fact that you can break down ‘Black Ice’ to be ‘so...the dude wears a mask and beats on his woman? I guess?’ is as pathetic as Raab’s continued reliance on saying that I ‘lied’ about something without ever actually saying what I ‘lied’ about. I ABHOR liars, Step-Mumsie. I ABHOR even the THOUGHT of them. And over and over again, Raab goes back to the idea that I am unworthy, I am not a real champion, I have to cheat to win, et cetera et cetera. Well, AFTER he waits for me to produce my promotional videos and THEN record his own after he watches them so that he knows what he’s supposed to say. FUCK, I hate that shit. Either come at me with YOUR own tactics and strategy, come at my titles and my records with YOUR own words or get the FUCK OUT OF MY RING!”
She drives several knees into the bag and Aveline snickers. She, too, had faced the “brilliance” that was “certain entertainment professionals” offering the “rebuttal but only in a way that you yourself are not allowed to offer a rebuttal” technique.
Silly, that.
And like any true member of the House of Lacklan, she put them down when it mattered.
“And now...NOW...I have to face those two idiots again! Ichabod is likely laughing his ASS off! ‘Sarah...they BEAT YOU last week...they should get ANOTHER match against you! Now hold on whilst I smoke my cloves and be mysterious.’”
Aveline nodded in silent approval of how well Sarah mimmicked the current Creative Director.
“And! AND! To make matters WORSE, I have to do it alongside freakin’ RYDELL!”
To this, Aveline giggles as the bag moves against her. Lo! The Rydells of the world.
“I swear to GOD, Step-Mumsie, that I WILL kick that bastard’s ASS if he so much as TOUCHES Angelica in a way I don’t like! I promised the Mark of Cain on any who would hurt her...well, at least outside of the normal confines of a professional wrestling match...and if that idiot thinks he can use this opportunity to rise above his station as the laughable gatekeeper, hoo BOY does he have an ass-kicking coming to him. Same with Deimos!”
Aveline could feel her cheeks flush for a moment, and Sarah’s eyes suddenly turning into dangerous slits confirmed that she was unable to hide it.
“Gross, Step-Mumsie. You DO realize that Deimos once referred to my promotional styling as ‘verbal diarrhea,’ yes?”
Aveline’s shade of scarlet does not lessen and Sarah rolls her eyes as she punches the bag.
“You and older men who obscure they faces. Whatev. THAT guy had better realize VERY quickly that any of my so-called ‘inadequacies’ are but the falsehoods of lesser men and that he will be led...LED, I say...to cooperative glory as long as he stays focused. And as long as he doesn’t ‘accidentally’ break Angelica’s neck before I do, of course. He is FUUUUUCKED if he does that.”
Aveline chews on her lips for a moment in thought, then steps over to one of the tables in the small room the Grey-Lacklans used for light workouts and retrieves her phone. A few presses of buttons and a text goes out.
S'il vous plaît ne tuez pas Angelica, cher ami.
Sarah looks at Aveline flatly.
“You cannot possibly tell me, with the full truth of the Light, that you and Phrixus Deimos actually text one ano-”
Vous avez un message!
Sarah’s eyes go wide as the notification cuts her off. Aveline smiles...and then struggles to keep the smile in place as she reads:
I offer no promises, dearest Aveline
“He...er...he says sure!”
Sarah’s eyes narrow in suspicion as she returns to the bag with punches, but she otherwise remains silent. Aveline places her phone back down on the table and sets herself up behind the bag.
“...why didn’t you tell me…?”
Aveline blinks in confusion and opens her mouth to respond but Sarah removes the need.
“Why did you fucking tell me about Angelica?!”
A strong two-punch combo punctuate her screamed question.
“Why the FUCK did YOU wait for so goddamn long?!”
Aveline shakes her head and sighs as she holds the bag.
“We have been over this, Daughter. Several times.”
“Then we will go ovER IT AGAIN!”
Sarah screams out the final few syllables as she punches the bag, then pushes herself away and begins pacing back and forth in small, tight lines, her left hand wringing her right wrist all the while.
“It was my RIGHT to know, Ava! It was my goddamn RIGHT to know as SOON as YOU found out! I understand my Beloved’s hesitation...but yours?!”
Aveline remains silent, allowing Sarah to get out all of her words. This was not the first time they had played out this scene.
“Over two years! Over two FUCKING YEARS! I have flown across the WORLD with that lying bitch, Ava! And ALL that time she was just trying to sneak into my life and STEAL my fire! STEAL my shine! And YOU knew for MOST of it!”
Aveline shakes her head as Sarah begins to wind down.
“I gave her every opportunity, Sarah. Over and again. I was nice. Helpful. Mean. Cross. Passive. Aggressive. Over and again with different tactics. It had to come from her. But you are wrong, Daughter! She did NOT know for that long! She-”
“No! YOU are wrong!”
Ava takes an involuntary step back as Sarah whirls on her with a face full of rage.
“Angelica has ALWAYS known. Or at least has known for MOST of her life. That...that…WHORE...Mary...she probably told Angelica the truth as she gave her babe suck! Angelica probably dreamed of taking MY life, of taking MY father, and played out the scenarios with her dolls! And just because you AND Kenzi have fallen for the LIE that is Vaughn doesn’t change the fact that I know the TRUTH!”
Aveline takes in a few breaths to steady herself and allow her to keep her face passive.
“Yes, as you have said. But I speak truth, Daughter. Mary did not tell Angelica until she herself was pressured, much in the way that Kenzi pressured me. Angelica did not-”
She cuts off as Sarah shoots forward and shoves a finger into her face.
“YOU are BLIND...because you are not a TRUE Lacklan. KENZI is BLIND...because she is not a TRUE Lacklan.”
Sarah shakes her head and begins pacing again.
“Its not your fault, of course. Both of you married into the family. But Angelica? She’s BLOOD, Ava. What we do is IN her. And everything she has done?”
She holds up her hand and ticks off her fingers.
“Came up with a story about being kicked from her family? Just so happened to join the company Kenzi and I were in together? Immediately befriend me to the point of having a holiday away from Kenzi so that she could become intimate with who I am? Follow me to the UGWC despite none of our other friends initially doing so? Living in my goddamn HOUSE so as to ingrain herself with the staff and the people? Become the star youth pastor for the church?”
She turns her splayed fingers into a fist with the last tick and slams it into the wall with a grunt.
“All of that? All of that manipulation? It is EXACTLY what I would do in her position.”
She whirls on Aveline again.
“Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that my ability to mimic voices is what led to you ‘going away’ for a while because I was feeling threatened. Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that I absolutely, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT, dug at Kenzi’s relationship to help push along her breakup with that evil bitch Song. Let us not forget, dear Step-Mumsie, that I then absolutely emotionally seduced Kenzi after she made it clear that she didn’t want what I was offering. And that’s just my personal life! My career is FILLED with examples of me befriending people...usually older women who can teach me things...and then turning on them when I no longer needed them! What Angelica has done is LITERALLY what I do! What ANY Lacklan does! IT IS WHAT WE DO!”
She turns away from Aveline again and resumes her rapid, aggressive pacing.
“But holy FUCK is this ALL going to backfire on her! Because I will NOT be used! I will NOT be manipulated! I will NOT be fooled by the LIE that is ‘sweet’ Angelica Vaughn which confuses the masses! I will NOT allow MYSELF to be led astray in the same way you and Kenzi have! And to PROVE it, to PROVE that I am RIGHT, I am going to break every fucking bone in Angelica’s goddamn BODY until she cries out to the Heavens: ‘Yes! Yes! It is all true, my older, wiser, prettier, smarter, and FAR more LOYAL Big Sister! I conspired against you! I conspired to STEAL Daddy’s love! And money! And fortune! And land! And church! AND EVERYTHING!’”
Sarah screams and runs forward, leaping off one foot and pushing the other leg out as she sends a supergirl punch into the bag.
“I NEVER should have listened to Father! I NEVER should have tried to make friends outside of the Compound! I NEVER should have TRUSTED people who were not on the Path! But I DID listen to Father and now have to deal with a life FULL of LIARS and WHORES!”
She sends in a few more punches to accentuate her screams. After the punches, she leans her head back and screams wordlessly into the air, and then leans forward and rests her head against the bag. Her shoulders slouch as her body moves up and down in great drafts of breath. Aveline lets out her own light breath, confident that the storm has been weathered. She reaches out and gently lays a hand on Sarah’s right shoulder, her fingers just barely touching the large tattoo of the white mask.
“Speaking of your father…”
Her fingers dance lightly on Sarah’s shoulder, tracing the etches in the mask. The shadow work her tattoo artist had added over the last two years was quite good.
“...and your sister...and wife...and me, for that matter…”
She moves from around the bag and places her other hand on Sarah’s left shoulder, these fingers tracing the tattoo of the cross in the center of a sunburst.
“...have you thought of what I asked?”
Sarah’s body rises and falls a few times as she breathes in deeply. The two of them had spoken many times in the last few weeks, perhaps having longer and more detailed conversations in that time than at any other time since they first met six years ago, and chief among those conversations was the tattoo on her left shoulder. More than just a commemorative piece for winning her first world championship, it was a symbol important to their family. The symbol for the Path of the Light Church.
“Your father was the Voice of God, the Hammer of His will. I am Le Bord de Dieu, the blade, the edge.”
She could almost feel the scars on her arms, one hundred on each arm, given to herself while she was “away,” as Sarah had so politely put it. She well remember the searing pain of the neat and surgical cuts, and the agonizing tear of the jagged set. But they had been worth it.
“What are you? Who are you?”
Sarah looks up at Aveline, having to crane her neck a touch in order to meet the three inch height difference.
“I am the Firestarter.”
Aveline smiles at the defiance in her voice. She squeezes Sarah’s shoulders with a strength that would surprise people who focused on how gaunt she had become.
“Yes. But that are you to God? To the Church? To the people who follow? That is the question you must ponder. And decide upon soon, I think.”
Sarah gives her a nod, and then her face softens from defiance into...care? She reaches up and lightly touches one of Aveline’s sharp and pronounced cheekbones.
“When did you get so old?”
Aveline gives Sarah a flat look and successfully holds in the retort of “When you locked me away,” and instead gives her an amused smile.
“I am not yet thirty, Child.”
Sarah smiles and gives a small giggle.
“Yeah...but you act like you’re sixty, so…”
Aveline gives her a flat stare again, and this time does not break it. She begins a retort about how someone needed to lead the House while OTHERS spent too much time engaging in gross, despicable lesb-
“I promised Father I would take care of you.”
The sincerity in Sarah’s words kill the retort before it could come. Sarah’s bright eyes let out a tear which had been threatening to fall all throughout her tirade about Angelica.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
Aveline’s green eyes stare at her, threatening to join her step-daughter in tears. Aveline gives her a small nod, instead.
“And I am sorry for what I did to you.”
Sarah lunges forward and embraces her around the waist. Aveline’s smile is the picture of smug satisfaction.
The House of Lacklan would be strong under her thumb.
Strong, indeed.
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