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maderrI don't think it's as good as the one I wrote yesterday. But I don't entirely hate it, even if I now resent it for making me write it twice. And I'm just posting it now before the fates conspire to lose it a second time
"So in the past two days, what have we learned?" Neil shoved away the book in front of him, disgust and frustration flickering across his face. He glared morosely at the rest of the books and papers piled on the table in front of him.
Kasimir looked up from where he was still reading on the couch, "Nothing."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean, we've learned that my ancestors were certifiable but that's something I knew already. All this searching for the Carnelian and no one bothered to get a description of the thing? Come on, shouldn't that be step one or something? Damn it, I was sure there would be something in one of these journals. I mean, they were required to keep them for a reason, right?"
Kasimir lifted a brow, closing the book in his lap. "I think the contents of them prove that your family didn't much care about what was required of them beyond locating the stone." Rising he crossed the room to replace the journal he had on the table. He stood over Neil, who was still glaring at the table as a whole.
Half-heartedly Neil pulled his latest book back in front of him, flipping it open to the page he'd left off at. "This is way more than I ever wanted to know about my damned family. I mean they blather on and on about the stone, their thought on and all, but they just use that and our "demon blood" to get away with all sorts of creepy crap. I'm sick of reading these things."
"As am I. Your family is not a very illustrious one."
"That's putting it nicely," Neil looked up, smirking, "Which is unusual for you."
Kasimir made a face, "I'm too tired of reading to think of appropriate insults. Suffice to say I'm glad I'm not related to you in any way, shape, or form."
Neil sighed, teasing manner gone. "Speaking of family, do you really think there's no way my sister or Rosemary could help? I mean, if they really know all of what's going on…"
The genie shook his head, "I doubt it. If they could have been of any use, don't you think they would have done something already? Does this Rosemary still practice the family business?"
Neil shook his head, "No - like I said, they just run this weird little antique store now. Rosemary runs the shop right now, but it's got a pretty small clientele. Mostly she just gets into trouble with my sister. Heck, until you came along I would never have thought either one of them believed in all this crap. Shows just how much I know…"
"Regardless, I think it's better if you just stick to your initial plan. It's not the greatest, but it's better than anything else you've come up with so far." Kasimir shrugged.
"Gee, thanks." Neil groaned, "Argh, is it too much to ask for just one of these loser to give me one description, some little indication of what the Carnelian looks like?" He dropped his head to the table.
Kasimir stared down in amusement at Neil, "Well it's not like any of them ever saw it. Even Gareth and Simon never got a glimpse, and they came closer to succeeding than anyone. Only Ornias himself ever had the stone."
Neil sat up, frustration in his face as he looked at the genie, "Yeah, but you'd think his wife - what was her name? I forget - would have left some indication of what it looked like. I mean, how do you know what to look for otherwise. Say Gareth and Simon had actually succeeded and summoned Nomolos instead of you - what good would it do if they didn't know what the Carnelian looked like. Because I'd be willing to bet it doesn't look much like an ordinary carnelian. He could have handed over any old red stone and they wouldn't have necessarily known."
Kasimir stared back, "Oh, you would know. There's no mistaking something like that. And given that it belongs to you, you would recognize it the moment you laid eyes on it. Not necessarily in a picture, but if you saw the stone yourself. That's probably why she didn't leave an image or description anywhere. You would just know."
"That makes no sense, but whatever." Abruptly Neil pushed up and away from the table, sending a startled Kasimir stumbling back with a faint cry of surprise.
"What did you do that for?" the genie glared, "It can't be snack time already. You just ate."
Neil turned to head for the stairs, motioning the genie to follow. "No, it's not snack time. I just had a thought it all, and I'm tired of these thrice-damned books. They're useless. C'mon Kasimir, we're going to the museum. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."
Kasimir followed up the stair and into the kitchen, "Museum?"
Neil paused at the back door, swinging it open to gaze out over the massive field that was the back yard. He turned to grin at the man beside him, "Not an actual museum, that's just what we call it - because there's so much old crap in it." He stepped outside and began to cross the lawn, Kasimir picking up his own pace to stay even with the suddenly hurried Neil. "That house," he indicated the one they'd just left, "Is only a few decades old. My great grandfather got a little bitter when his wife left him, to the point he wouldn't stay in the old family home - which was about 300 years old. It's the only time a family member ever broke a serious tradition. Anyway - he built the new one and the old one was torn down. I think he always meant to put something else in its place, but no one ever got around to it."
The crossed the lawn, passing through a brief wall of small trees and continuing on to where a massive stone floor sat in the middle of a large clearing. Neil continued his explanation, "Anyway, the old basement remained and my grandfather had the idea of using it for storage. There's already too much crap in the attic and you've spent the last two days in our current basement. So a lot of old family stuff was moved out here - when my parents died my brother banished nearly all of it out here." Neil looked thoughtful as they reached the strange stone floor, reaching down to heft a heavy iron ring. Heaving he lifted the heavy door, letting go to let it slam down on the stone floor.
"It was one of the few times my brother ever argued and won against my grandfather. After our parent died, my brother couldn't stand to see any of the paintings in the house. There are tons of them, at least one for every relative and then the family portraits. My brother hated them all, he wouldn't calm down until every last one was gone. He never did say why…"
Reaching the bottom of the old, creaky steps Neil fumbled around until at last he located the light switch, bathing the immense chamber in bright, yellow light. "I guess the ground crew keeps this place functioning - I wasn't expecting the lights to work at, never mind work well. Cool."
He walked in silence toward the back of the old basement, Kasimir trailing behind him just as silent. Neil came to a halt before the far wall, where vast arrays of carefully stored painting were neatly stacked. "These are it. I don't know why I didn't think of it before - I'm pretty sure there's a picture of Ornias in here somewhere. If the stone was that important, maybe he was wearing it or something when he had his portrait done. I mean, why not?"
"Because it's stupid? He could be wearing it out of sight, why show something like that to the world? Ornias wasn't that stupid, though he came pretty close I'm sure."
"Shut up. If you'd rather go back to the house and read those stupid journals, feel free. I'm going to go on a goose chase." So saying Neil began digging through the collection of paintings, starting at the very back. One by one he dragged several out, propping them up against a long line of furniture piled nearby. Removing the cloths that protected them, he turned at the sound of Kasimir's startled cry.
"Who is that?" the genie pointed the fourth painting in the line, "He's beautiful, almost hauntingly so."
Neil frowned, examining the indicated painting. It was a portrait of two men. The foremost in the image was seated, gazing sternly out at the viewer. He appeared to be in is forties, and looked like an older version of Darrell. His old fashioned attire placing him as well before Neil's time. Just behind him was the second man, standing with one hand on the seated man's shoulder. His hair was gold in color, cut short but only more vibrant for it. Equaly stunning were his eyes, as stunning a gold as his hair, the color a stark contrast to the darker colors that were predominant in the painting. It was to this second man that Kasimir was pointing.
"That's just one of Sheridan's relatives. Let me think…that's my great grandfather. So that must be…Lucas…Nicholas…ah, Sean. That's his name. Sean Arden, and family rumors say he was a bit more than Great Granddad's assistant. Not that it really matters, and I doubt it's true anyway seeing as they both had kids, families, etc."
"Arden? You've mentioned that name before - they are the ones that serve your family, right? Have they always done so?"
"Pretty much. They're just one more DeMarius tradition - each one serves the newest generation of DeMarius. Technically speaking, Luc should still be working for my dad. Then eventually my brother would have taken over, with Sheridan at his side. But Darrell wound up taking over way too soon, and Sheridan is my age so he's not quite ready yet…"
Kasimir was frowning in thought, only half listening. "Arden, Arden…I know I've heard that name before…"
"What's got you so interested? It's not even what we're looking for." Neil turned away from Kasimir and the painting to begin dragging out others, "None of these look right, they're all too recent. I think. I have no idea what the guy looks like, so I hope you have some idea."
"I recall his appearance." Kasimir rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." Neil set the latest group of painting over the first, removing the cloths and stepping back to examine them. He paused at the second to last one, a portrait that was clearly very old. It was a portrait of a grim faced man, perhaps in his late thirties or forties. His clothing was centuries old, the painting faded and worn but somehow still intimidating. "Sheesh, what a sourpuss. He looks like he swallowed a bug or something."
Neil whirled around at the sound of something he hadn't expected ever to hear - Kasimir was laughing, and laughing hard. "What the hell? What's so funny?"
Kasimir shook his head, unable to speak. Slowly his laughter died as he gasped for breath. He looked up at a confounded Neil, eyes still sparkling with mirth. "You're an idiot. Do you really have no idea who that is."
"Cleary not. But I can guess. Is this the asshole demon himself?"
Kasimir smirked, "Indeed it is. Lord Ornias himself."
"What's so damned funny then? I told you I didn't know what he looked like." Neil glared resentfully at the genie.
Kasimir tossed his head, pale hair almost gold in the yellow light. "The funny part is that he looks exactly like you. Well, you in about 25 more years or so. Right down to the "swallowed a bug" thing. That's what you look like every time you tell me to shut up.
Neil made a face, "Shut up. I do not look like that. I know I'm not the most stunning DeMarius in history but I'm not as awful looking as him, thanks." He sighed, "Unfortunately, I don't see any sort of jewelry on him. Nothing at all, besides his clothing. I thought men in that age wore lots of jewels and stuff? Maybe not…"
Kasimir was pensive, though amusement still lingered in his blue violet eyes, "I have no idea. I used to wear a lot of jewels, but I couldn't tell you about human fashion that long ago. But it wouldn't surprise me if Ornias preferred to not wear it. I told you this was pointless."
"Yeah, yeah. It couldn't hurt - except my dignity, but that always takes a beating when you're around." Tired of looking at the image of Ornias, Neil's eyes perused the other paintings, eyes falling on the last one in the row. It was a portrait of a woman, perhaps I in her thirties, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She stared expressionlessly at the viewer, red lips seeming tight with anger or repressed sadness. "That must be his wife, the woman that started this whole mess. She's pretty, I guess. She looks like a doll, really."
Kasimir nodded, "Yes, a sort of frozen beauty. I think that rose is the only warm thing about her." He waved a hand at the woman's throat, where hung a rose shaped pendant on a heavy silver chain. The red rose seemed to burn, so intense was the color. It made the rest of the painting pale by comparison.
"You don't suppose…" Neil looked at Kasimir.
The genie shook his head, "I doubt it. Why would he give it to his wife? Something that important, wouldn't he keep it with him at all times? And it seems just a little too easy, that it would just be here for us to see. We'll never know for sure anyway - you can pretend that's the Carnelian all you want, but if you don't know then wishing for it is pointless.
"Yeah, yeah. You've made your point, spoilsport. I guess it's back to the books, though I doubt that's going to work at all. C'mon, it's time for a snack."
"So in the past two days, what have we learned?" Neil shoved away the book in front of him, disgust and frustration flickering across his face. He glared morosely at the rest of the books and papers piled on the table in front of him.
Kasimir looked up from where he was still reading on the couch, "Nothing."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean, we've learned that my ancestors were certifiable but that's something I knew already. All this searching for the Carnelian and no one bothered to get a description of the thing? Come on, shouldn't that be step one or something? Damn it, I was sure there would be something in one of these journals. I mean, they were required to keep them for a reason, right?"
Kasimir lifted a brow, closing the book in his lap. "I think the contents of them prove that your family didn't much care about what was required of them beyond locating the stone." Rising he crossed the room to replace the journal he had on the table. He stood over Neil, who was still glaring at the table as a whole.
Half-heartedly Neil pulled his latest book back in front of him, flipping it open to the page he'd left off at. "This is way more than I ever wanted to know about my damned family. I mean they blather on and on about the stone, their thought on and all, but they just use that and our "demon blood" to get away with all sorts of creepy crap. I'm sick of reading these things."
"As am I. Your family is not a very illustrious one."
"That's putting it nicely," Neil looked up, smirking, "Which is unusual for you."
Kasimir made a face, "I'm too tired of reading to think of appropriate insults. Suffice to say I'm glad I'm not related to you in any way, shape, or form."
Neil sighed, teasing manner gone. "Speaking of family, do you really think there's no way my sister or Rosemary could help? I mean, if they really know all of what's going on…"
The genie shook his head, "I doubt it. If they could have been of any use, don't you think they would have done something already? Does this Rosemary still practice the family business?"
Neil shook his head, "No - like I said, they just run this weird little antique store now. Rosemary runs the shop right now, but it's got a pretty small clientele. Mostly she just gets into trouble with my sister. Heck, until you came along I would never have thought either one of them believed in all this crap. Shows just how much I know…"
"Regardless, I think it's better if you just stick to your initial plan. It's not the greatest, but it's better than anything else you've come up with so far." Kasimir shrugged.
"Gee, thanks." Neil groaned, "Argh, is it too much to ask for just one of these loser to give me one description, some little indication of what the Carnelian looks like?" He dropped his head to the table.
Kasimir stared down in amusement at Neil, "Well it's not like any of them ever saw it. Even Gareth and Simon never got a glimpse, and they came closer to succeeding than anyone. Only Ornias himself ever had the stone."
Neil sat up, frustration in his face as he looked at the genie, "Yeah, but you'd think his wife - what was her name? I forget - would have left some indication of what it looked like. I mean, how do you know what to look for otherwise. Say Gareth and Simon had actually succeeded and summoned Nomolos instead of you - what good would it do if they didn't know what the Carnelian looked like. Because I'd be willing to bet it doesn't look much like an ordinary carnelian. He could have handed over any old red stone and they wouldn't have necessarily known."
Kasimir stared back, "Oh, you would know. There's no mistaking something like that. And given that it belongs to you, you would recognize it the moment you laid eyes on it. Not necessarily in a picture, but if you saw the stone yourself. That's probably why she didn't leave an image or description anywhere. You would just know."
"That makes no sense, but whatever." Abruptly Neil pushed up and away from the table, sending a startled Kasimir stumbling back with a faint cry of surprise.
"What did you do that for?" the genie glared, "It can't be snack time already. You just ate."
Neil turned to head for the stairs, motioning the genie to follow. "No, it's not snack time. I just had a thought it all, and I'm tired of these thrice-damned books. They're useless. C'mon Kasimir, we're going to the museum. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."
Kasimir followed up the stair and into the kitchen, "Museum?"
Neil paused at the back door, swinging it open to gaze out over the massive field that was the back yard. He turned to grin at the man beside him, "Not an actual museum, that's just what we call it - because there's so much old crap in it." He stepped outside and began to cross the lawn, Kasimir picking up his own pace to stay even with the suddenly hurried Neil. "That house," he indicated the one they'd just left, "Is only a few decades old. My great grandfather got a little bitter when his wife left him, to the point he wouldn't stay in the old family home - which was about 300 years old. It's the only time a family member ever broke a serious tradition. Anyway - he built the new one and the old one was torn down. I think he always meant to put something else in its place, but no one ever got around to it."
The crossed the lawn, passing through a brief wall of small trees and continuing on to where a massive stone floor sat in the middle of a large clearing. Neil continued his explanation, "Anyway, the old basement remained and my grandfather had the idea of using it for storage. There's already too much crap in the attic and you've spent the last two days in our current basement. So a lot of old family stuff was moved out here - when my parents died my brother banished nearly all of it out here." Neil looked thoughtful as they reached the strange stone floor, reaching down to heft a heavy iron ring. Heaving he lifted the heavy door, letting go to let it slam down on the stone floor.
"It was one of the few times my brother ever argued and won against my grandfather. After our parent died, my brother couldn't stand to see any of the paintings in the house. There are tons of them, at least one for every relative and then the family portraits. My brother hated them all, he wouldn't calm down until every last one was gone. He never did say why…"
Reaching the bottom of the old, creaky steps Neil fumbled around until at last he located the light switch, bathing the immense chamber in bright, yellow light. "I guess the ground crew keeps this place functioning - I wasn't expecting the lights to work at, never mind work well. Cool."
He walked in silence toward the back of the old basement, Kasimir trailing behind him just as silent. Neil came to a halt before the far wall, where vast arrays of carefully stored painting were neatly stacked. "These are it. I don't know why I didn't think of it before - I'm pretty sure there's a picture of Ornias in here somewhere. If the stone was that important, maybe he was wearing it or something when he had his portrait done. I mean, why not?"
"Because it's stupid? He could be wearing it out of sight, why show something like that to the world? Ornias wasn't that stupid, though he came pretty close I'm sure."
"Shut up. If you'd rather go back to the house and read those stupid journals, feel free. I'm going to go on a goose chase." So saying Neil began digging through the collection of paintings, starting at the very back. One by one he dragged several out, propping them up against a long line of furniture piled nearby. Removing the cloths that protected them, he turned at the sound of Kasimir's startled cry.
"Who is that?" the genie pointed the fourth painting in the line, "He's beautiful, almost hauntingly so."
Neil frowned, examining the indicated painting. It was a portrait of two men. The foremost in the image was seated, gazing sternly out at the viewer. He appeared to be in is forties, and looked like an older version of Darrell. His old fashioned attire placing him as well before Neil's time. Just behind him was the second man, standing with one hand on the seated man's shoulder. His hair was gold in color, cut short but only more vibrant for it. Equaly stunning were his eyes, as stunning a gold as his hair, the color a stark contrast to the darker colors that were predominant in the painting. It was to this second man that Kasimir was pointing.
"That's just one of Sheridan's relatives. Let me think…that's my great grandfather. So that must be…Lucas…Nicholas…ah, Sean. That's his name. Sean Arden, and family rumors say he was a bit more than Great Granddad's assistant. Not that it really matters, and I doubt it's true anyway seeing as they both had kids, families, etc."
"Arden? You've mentioned that name before - they are the ones that serve your family, right? Have they always done so?"
"Pretty much. They're just one more DeMarius tradition - each one serves the newest generation of DeMarius. Technically speaking, Luc should still be working for my dad. Then eventually my brother would have taken over, with Sheridan at his side. But Darrell wound up taking over way too soon, and Sheridan is my age so he's not quite ready yet…"
Kasimir was frowning in thought, only half listening. "Arden, Arden…I know I've heard that name before…"
"What's got you so interested? It's not even what we're looking for." Neil turned away from Kasimir and the painting to begin dragging out others, "None of these look right, they're all too recent. I think. I have no idea what the guy looks like, so I hope you have some idea."
"I recall his appearance." Kasimir rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." Neil set the latest group of painting over the first, removing the cloths and stepping back to examine them. He paused at the second to last one, a portrait that was clearly very old. It was a portrait of a grim faced man, perhaps in his late thirties or forties. His clothing was centuries old, the painting faded and worn but somehow still intimidating. "Sheesh, what a sourpuss. He looks like he swallowed a bug or something."
Neil whirled around at the sound of something he hadn't expected ever to hear - Kasimir was laughing, and laughing hard. "What the hell? What's so funny?"
Kasimir shook his head, unable to speak. Slowly his laughter died as he gasped for breath. He looked up at a confounded Neil, eyes still sparkling with mirth. "You're an idiot. Do you really have no idea who that is."
"Cleary not. But I can guess. Is this the asshole demon himself?"
Kasimir smirked, "Indeed it is. Lord Ornias himself."
"What's so damned funny then? I told you I didn't know what he looked like." Neil glared resentfully at the genie.
Kasimir tossed his head, pale hair almost gold in the yellow light. "The funny part is that he looks exactly like you. Well, you in about 25 more years or so. Right down to the "swallowed a bug" thing. That's what you look like every time you tell me to shut up.
Neil made a face, "Shut up. I do not look like that. I know I'm not the most stunning DeMarius in history but I'm not as awful looking as him, thanks." He sighed, "Unfortunately, I don't see any sort of jewelry on him. Nothing at all, besides his clothing. I thought men in that age wore lots of jewels and stuff? Maybe not…"
Kasimir was pensive, though amusement still lingered in his blue violet eyes, "I have no idea. I used to wear a lot of jewels, but I couldn't tell you about human fashion that long ago. But it wouldn't surprise me if Ornias preferred to not wear it. I told you this was pointless."
"Yeah, yeah. It couldn't hurt - except my dignity, but that always takes a beating when you're around." Tired of looking at the image of Ornias, Neil's eyes perused the other paintings, eyes falling on the last one in the row. It was a portrait of a woman, perhaps I in her thirties, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She stared expressionlessly at the viewer, red lips seeming tight with anger or repressed sadness. "That must be his wife, the woman that started this whole mess. She's pretty, I guess. She looks like a doll, really."
Kasimir nodded, "Yes, a sort of frozen beauty. I think that rose is the only warm thing about her." He waved a hand at the woman's throat, where hung a rose shaped pendant on a heavy silver chain. The red rose seemed to burn, so intense was the color. It made the rest of the painting pale by comparison.
"You don't suppose…" Neil looked at Kasimir.
The genie shook his head, "I doubt it. Why would he give it to his wife? Something that important, wouldn't he keep it with him at all times? And it seems just a little too easy, that it would just be here for us to see. We'll never know for sure anyway - you can pretend that's the Carnelian all you want, but if you don't know then wishing for it is pointless.
"Yeah, yeah. You've made your point, spoilsport. I guess it's back to the books, though I doubt that's going to work at all. C'mon, it's time for a snack."
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Date: 2003-11-28 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-28 04:57 am (UTC)hee hee
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:10 am (UTC)Please mam. Can we have some more?
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:18 am (UTC)I'm almost done with 18, then I'll post that and 17.
Speaking of which, if you're still interested in beta-ing I'll take you up on that offer soon.
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:26 am (UTC)Umm let me think about it for a few minutes.. YES! Just point and I will beta away!
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:28 am (UTC)Speaking of alcohol and food, it's about time for round three. I'll be right back...
I'll go over a few of them again myself so they're not too terribly shredded and send them your way in the next few days.
I'm doing all I can to distract myself from packing.
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:48 am (UTC)Hurray! I'll be waiting!
Hee hee just remember you need to wear some of the clothes you are trying to pack before you leave ;)
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Date: 2003-11-28 05:51 am (UTC)I need to wear them? That would certainly explain a lot...
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:20 am (UTC)hee hee Oh no.. the new style is not to wear them... I'm sure the LC business would increase quite a bit ;)
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:22 am (UTC)I can't wait until I get to eat breakfast. Why are leftovers more fun than the meal?
I can never keep up with fashion. Doesn't that break health codes or something?
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:25 am (UTC)heh heh umm maybe just a few..? and what about burns..? OWWWWW
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:26 am (UTC)I think I'll just try the out dated clothing thing, there are just some places where I don't need to get burned (not there are any that need burning)
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:36 am (UTC)But there WAS that splinter.. Try asking your mom help you get THAT out..
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:37 am (UTC)That's a story I don't think I ever want to hear the full extent of.
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-28 06:44 am (UTC)*winces* ouchie. a guy at worked accidently elbowed me in the chest the other day, that was painful enough. I don't want to contemplate shelving and splinters.
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Date: 2003-11-28 06:48 am (UTC)Yeeeah. It wasn't pretty.. too many nerves there to get a splinter out easily..