Puck Foetry

Puck Foetry

We used to live in a world where children were seen but not heard
Now they're a chaos-driven rabble, a bloodthirsty herd
Stabbing other children and grown ups alike
'Father of five killed by knife-wielding tyke'
At night roaming streets using hoodies to hide
Whilst wearing gang colours with such misplaced pride
Lives that are hollow and driven by greed
Unable to write 'cos they can't fucking read
Communicating with each other by electronic slang
Texting their mate by their side in the park where they hang
While we try our best to save their tomorrow
They practice their skills, to beg, steal or borrow
Money for the things they're unable to nick
Six cans of cider, they'll drink 'til they're sick
Oblivious parents so quick to protect
Their foul mouthed young spawn without a shred of respect
Biting at the teat the moment it's sucked
If children are our future, we're totally fucked

© Charon 2009

Just a thought.

I could never write something like Star Wars. I'd spend way too long trying to figure out how Darth Vader manages to eat...
Or poop come to think of it.

Bitemarks 2.1

Bitemarks 2.1

Skarletta admired her reflection in the shop window. The clothes she had acquired pleased her. Her jeans were black baggy denim. Her trainers, soft and comfortable, made her feel like the gazelle they were named after. And atop that she had a plain blue T-shirt and a small black denim jacket. She marvelled at how far the clothing industry had come, for she remembered only too clearly now the ragged animal pelts of the past. All around her she had seen people with vastly different forms of dress. It certainly made it easier for her to fit in among the crowd. She adjusted her gaze to look through the shop window. The last customer was just leaving and that was her cue to enter. The man inside greeted her as she entered and she returned the greeting, smiling. Her body had assimilated so much blood since her rebirth. It was time to put her knowledge of the Dherroine tongue to the test.
"How can I help you?" he asked politely.
"I require information." she said.
"About?"
"Everything. History, culture... science." That last word was a concept she didn't understand too well but she was all too eager to know what it encompassed.
"Tourist?" the man asked, laughing, "You probably want to head to the library. They have internet terminals for the public."
Library. Yes. That sounded useful.
"Where can I find this library?"
"You're not that far actually. St David's Library is pretty huge. There's a map just down the street. Can't miss it."
"Thank you."
Skarletta gave him a wink and watched his response before turning and leaving. The men of this age were just like the men of old. Strong in body yet weak in will. They would serve her well.
She left the shop and made her way outside. The man had indicated she go left and so she did. A map? This was a piece of paper with markings of places and the routes to them. Why would it be out in the street? Her answer was soon revealed as a minute later she found herself stood before a large sign holding a map of the area beneath waterproof plastic. She touched the plastic with her finger. How very clever. Rendering the fragile paper immune to the ravages of the weather. Plastic.
A big red arrow pointed at her current location and she traced her finger down the street to the large library. A short distance. And then, then she would find this internet. She knew not what one was. The word was too complicated for mere blood to convey, but if a library was a repository for all knowledge then it would be a good place for her to start. She knew that she needed this knowledge but so far she couldn't remember why. Something was calling her. And there was still the second hunger. Not for blood, for she had fed well the night before. This was something else, just as animalistic. Ingrained in her soul and burning away at her insides. She had felt it a few times now. Once as her eyes first fell on Dr Keibler. Again when fighting the soldiers outside the Arctic base. When attacked in the alleyway. And just then when the shopkeeper greeted her. She hoped that the library could answer all her questions.

Hooray.

Well, having hopefully made my point that you should question your beliefs and that even if those beliefs differ from my own they can still be valid and we can still be friends, it's time for some other news!

I have a new computer! :D

The stats of which can be found at the following link for those interested.
http://www.xfire.com/profile/charonicus/#game_rig

Climate Change

It seems my initial info on this subject fell on deaf ears. Perhaps it's time to bust some myths.

A good place to start reading is here.
http://www.climatechangefacts.info/

In particular it covers the following.
http://www.fel.duke.edu/~scafetta/pdf/opinion0308.pdf
A paper by Scafetta and West.
Nicola Scafetta is a research associate in the Duke University physics department. Bruce West is chief scientist in the mathematical and
information science directorate, US Army Research Office, in Research Triangle Park, North Carolina.
Remember what I said about Argument from Authority though. Just because these guys are scientists does not make them right. It's a complex paper, but one key point is of interest. They claim 69% of observed warming is caused by the sun. Because of course, the sun is a big ball of gas that will get hotter and hotter until eventually it uses up its fuel and begins to die, plunging the Earth into icy coldness.

Returning to the main article, I find this paragraph interesting.

It is generally accepted that the Earth has been much warmer than today, for example, in the time of the dinosaurs (the mid-cretaceous period) when the CO2 was 2 to 4 times greater than today (NOAA). More recently, in the prior period between ice ages, just 125,000 years ago, the Earth also was much warmer than today and the sea level much higher - by about 13 to 20 feet (4 to 6 meters) (IPCC). The primary driver of the past climate shifts is believed to be orbital mechanics and solar variability, with some contribution from Earth geophysical processes, such as volcanic eruptions. It is also known that mankind's contribution to CO2 is just a small percent (3%) of the total amount and that the total is very small - there is 23.6 times more argon (.009) in the atmosphere than CO2 (.00038). Lastly, we know that the Earth's temperature and the level of CO2 rise and fall roughly together, but it is not clear (not proven) whether this is cause and effect by either variable. In a first attempt (Hadley-chart) to use a CO2 - based model to predict temperatures, the results are not impressive at all and are exactly opposite observations.

Some interesting stuff too on rising sea levels.
Dr. Nils-Axel Mörner (leading expert on sea level): "If you go around the globe, you find no rise anywhere. But they need the rise, because if there is no rise, there is no death threat. They say there is nothing good to come from a sea-level rise, only problems, coastal problems. If you have a temperature rise, if it’s a problem in one area, it’s beneficial in another area. But sea level is the real “bad guy,” and therefore they have talked very much about it. But the real thing is, that it doesn’t exist in observational data, only in computer modeling."
Professor Nils-Axel Mörner, Head of Paleogeophysics & Geodynamics, Stockholm University, Sweden President, (1999-2003) of the INQUA Commission on Sea Level Changes and Coastal Evolution, Leader of the Maldives Sea Level Project
Seems legit?
So the glaciers are melting but not causing the sea level to rise... Didn't I mention this just a few days ago in the Bitemarks 1.10 comments? Hmmm, yes I did. And here's a leading expert on sea levels agreeing with me. I'm feeling positive. I'm inclined to believe. In fact, since the Ice Age, sea level has fallen...
*strokes chin*
Interesting...

So just how much CO2 is there? Shitloads right? We're pumping it out in tons!
These gases in the atmosphere (in order) by percent are:
Nitrogen 78.1%
Oxygen 20.9%
Argon 0.9%
Carbon Dioxide 0.0378% (NCAR 2005)
Neon 0.002%
Helium 0.0005%
Methane 0.0001778% (NCAR 2005)
Krypton 0.0001%
Hydrogen 0.00005%
Water vapor 0 to 4%
Ozone 0.000004%

Oh... Well those figures are four years old... But still. You see my point?

So global warming... What about global cooling?
http://www.climatecooling.org/

As the sun goes even quieter and January, 2008 saw the greatest year to year temperature drop ever (128 years of NASA GISS data) and thru the end of 2008 remains relatively cool, it is clear cooling needs to be considered as a very plausible future.

:O Warming, cooling? Which is it?!

The southern hemisphere has been cooling over the last 10 years, just about as much as the north has been warming.

:o Both?! But that's bizarre! Does this mean... that there's no real net change? O_O Possibly.

Well that's a lot of information to take in and I doubt you've read it all. But already some interesting 'facts' have come to light. No rise in sea level whatsoever. CO2 levels 2-4 times LOWER than when the dinosaurs ruled the Earth (what sort of industrialization were they running?!) Temperatures both increasing and decreasing. CO2 linked to both warming and cooling and neither! O_O

Who to believe... That's your decision. All I can do is provide you with the information scientists make available.

Thou Shalt Think For Thyselves!

This isn't the blog where we'll go into details about climate change. This is a precursor. Allow me to introduce you to a concept called "Argument from Authority". It amuses me ironically to quote this direct from Wikipedia.

"Argument from authority or appeal to authority is a logical fallacy, where it is argued that a statement is correct because the statement is made by a person or source that is commonly regarded as authoritative. The most general structure of this argument is:

Source A says that p.
Source A is authoritative.
Therefore, p is true.

This is a fallacy because the truth or falsity of the claim is not necessarily related to the personal qualities of the claimant, and because the premises can be true, and the conclusion false (an authoritative claim can turn out to be false). It is also known as argumentum ad verecundiam (Latin: argument to respect) or ipse dixit (Latin: he himself said it). [1]

On the other hand, arguments from authority are an important part of informal logic. Since we cannot have expert knowledge of many subjects, we often rely on the judgments of those who do. There is no fallacy involved in simply arguing that the assertion made by an authority is true. The fallacy only arises when it is claimed or implied that the authority is infallible in principle and can hence be exempted from criticism."

And as a reasonably intelligent seeming person (Apple in my eye) wrote regarding this applied to a different subject.
"And, the other way around -- that someone is automatically incorrect because they are not an authority."

All this will hopefully serve to remind you that you are your own person. A hilarious accident has bestowed you with life and a complex organ known as a brain enabling you to observe and question everything around you. When another person feeds you information you have to make the conscious decision on whether to believe them or not. This decision has to be independent from trust. Let's face it, it's trust in authority that left you believing in a certain fictional seasonal character (Santa) for years on end. Examine as much evidence as possible then draw your own conclusions and even then, you might still be wrong, but at least you tried.

I'll also throw in something else I know. Perception, as you are aware, is something I find fascinating. Perception is the mystical property that allows us all to see things differently. It's why we like different music and different films and have different values, principles and views. The police force is one body that is all too aware of the power of perception. When an incident occurs and the police take witness statements, the one thing they expect to find is inconsistencies. When witness statements match perfectly, someone's lying. This is because people see things very differently. It's why, after my robbery experience, I (A 20 something male face to face with the robber) described him as being only a bit taller than me, 5'10 or thereabouts, whereas my coworker, Linda (A 50 something woman standing some distance away) described him as being 6'3". Neither of us were lying and tbh, I don't know for sure how tall he turned out to be, but such a result is to be expected. In the heat of the moment, Linda made her judgement, partly in fear, seeing him tower over me. I made mine from my peripheral vision, my focus more on the knife swishing in front of me than the robber himself. It's up to the police to decide which report is the more accurate. Likely he was somewhere in between, around 6 foot.

This is why it's important to question other things in your life that you may have taken for granted based upon someone else's perception. If you were brought up Christian or Muslim or whatever, it's a good idea to take a step back and examine your faith. Discuss such matters with members of other religions and athiests. Maybe you'll decide your beliefs have changed, or maybe you'll come out of it more convinced than ever that you have made the correct decision. But until you do question it, you're just believing someone else's perception blindly. You're believing in Santa because your parents told you to.

And likewise you should rarely believe what you read in the papers or see on the news. They too get it wrong. If you pay careful enough attention you'll often see apologies for false information buried on page 33, completely discounting a previous day's headlines.

Aleister Crowley once said "Nothing is true and everything is permitted."

NOTHING is true. Question everything. And be prepared to change your mind as new facts come to light! You won't be alone. The Jews, for example, are often willing to reinterpret their holy texts as science reveals new information that could not have been known at the time of their writing. They accept that the holy texts are not fully accurate. That their God made the world but also gave them the power to figure out the finer workings of it for themselves and come to new understandings about his teachings, methods and intentions.

But let me not get all caught up in religious issues. It's simply an easy way of explaining my message. Think for yourselves. Leave the blind autonomy for the lesser creatures.

As

As

You can't see the sadness in her eyes
With practice cleverly disguised
It's not her fault she looks away
Just too much on her mind today
And though the words energize you
They leave her drained and feeling blue
She's out of place and out of time
Trapped in her body and her mind

All she knows is something's wrong
In this world she don't belong
Just an actress playing a part
Why is everything so hard?
Every question breeds confusion
Reality just an illusion?

But now you've moved beyond a drain
Vampiric pupils cause her pain
Her inner sanctuary violated
Her sense of fear exacerbated
Her world is sent spinning around
Overwhelmed by lights and sounds
As the sirens blare she's trapped
Inside the void as her mind snaps

All she knows is something's wrong
In this world she don't belong
Just an actress playing a part
Why is everything so hard?
Why is it they can't comprehend
It's just a shut-down, not the end

All she needs is to be alone
Back in the safety of her home
Wallowing in familiar despair
Tapping fingers and pulling out her hair
She's used to being branded a freak
For taking pride in being unique
She appreciates the irony too
What's weird to her is normal to you

All she knows is something's wrong
This is her world, you don't belong
Tired of having to hide behind a hood
Tired of living a life misunderstood
Sick of being the actress playing her part
The endless pretension is just too hard

She's over conscious when she talks
She feels unstable when she walks
She doesn't mean to be rude or curt
She wishes she weren't so easily hurt

All she knows is something's wrong
This is her world, you don't belong
Your every move creates confusion
Coming clean is no solution
There's just no way you could understand
So she shows the puppet, not her hand

© Charon 2009

Self-destruct

I'm a busy bunny, people. There'll be more Bitemarks to come sometime soon, once the rest of my computer components arrive and I'm in possession of a more stable internet connection. There may even be a blog on climate change on its way if Ches isn't content with information I've already provided him with. I'm sure you all would sleep happier in your beds knowing that you don't need to worry about it half as much as you are.

But now is not the time for such things. See the comments on the last Bitemarks if your curiosity is aroused. For now, it's poetry time. Written on non-recycled paper!! ZOMG.
(Just kidding. Paper recycling is fairly important. It's a nice easy way to reduce the amount of trees that are chopped down. And trees are both useful and pretty. They just happen to be more useful to me when mashed up and rolled out and bleached white. Keep on recycling.)

Self-destruct

I paint my face with hidden wants
Matt black torment I know so well
Tattoo my nightmares in two fonts
Times New Roman and Arial
Hide behind my mental blanket
Shield-like metaphor
Shiver in the stress because I'm tense
I will be and I was before
But my haven isn't waterproof
And the static panic rains right through
Left to face my demons all alone
In a cell filled with only pictures of you
In this prison-cum-asylum
I'm the patient and the jailer
I'm the shining light that burns my eyes
I'm the darkness turning me paler
Nothing to fear but fear itself
And fear thy name is me
I still stare back as the mirror cracks
I'm my own worst enemy

© Charon 2009

Bitemarks 1.10

Bitemarks 1.10

Ed followed Beauclair. He saw no reason not to. Every bit of information about what he faced was going to be useful.
"So why the cane?" he asked.
"Because I'm... ageing, Ed. My kind, we... require food to repair our bodies and... keep them functioning, much... like you do. I haven't fed... properly since the... cull. These days I... have to content myself with... livestock. So I have to... voluntarily forego... the luxuries of my body's... innate healing. But don't think me weak... If need be I could... muster enough energy to return my youth... temporarily."
"So you haven't fed on a human since the cull?"
"Well... there was one time. But I was given... special dispensation in return for my... assistance."
"What?"
"I did my part, Ed. I am not... averse to helping. Let us simply say... they never did find... Hitler's body."
"You killed Hitler? You don't expect me to believe that."
"You have an... alternative theory perhaps? One that makes... more sense?"
Ed said nothing. It was true he had no alternative theory and given what he knew of the Bureau's methods it wasn't completely unlikely after all. He changed the subject.
"So where are we going?"
"To see the artefacts. And here we are."
Beauclair stopped and Ed looked past him. The hallway they were in terminated ahead in a large steel vault door. There were two similar doors to the left and right. Beauclair punched in a code on a keypad beside the left door, offered up a fingerprint and retina scan and finally spoke a short sentence to confirm his voice pattern. Satisfied the technology unlocked the vault's door for him.
"My artefact room." Beauclair smiled.
Ed stepped through the doorway into a vast chamber. Each wall lined with tall bookshelves filled with books and sheaves of paper. In the centre, various cabinets and tables held all manner of curiosities.
"What's in the other two vaults?" asked Ed.
"One is my wealth." said Beauclair, "And the other... the other is just for me."
"What is all this stuff?"
"Vampiric relics. Literature written in our own tongue. Artefacts that were... once of importance to us. Some may even still be... significant, who knows. It's my last... link to my heritage."
"Where did it all come from?"
"Archaeological digs mostly. And now you see why... I have been funding such... excursions."
"You were treasure hunting?"
"In a... manner of speaking."
"And what did you send Keibler's team to unearth?"
Beauclair didn't answer him straight away. He motioned to one side, where a desk sat with one hefty tome atop it. The book was open and they both made their way over to it. Ed looked at the open pages. They were written in a strange language, strings of conjoined symbols not unlike Arabic.
"What language is that?"
"Ancient Karal."
"Karal?"
"It is what we... used to call ourselves. Before you humans named us yourselves. We were the... Karal, you dubbed us... vampires."
"What's it say?"
"That's difficult to say... It is... a complex tongue... long since unspoken. But it speaks of an artefact of great... significance. The... Holy Grail of the Karal... as it were. It tells of the buried... remains of the first of our kind. The body of the Mother."
There was merely silence as Ed stared at the indecipherable pages, letting this information sink in.

Bitemarks 1.9

Wow. Monday already? That was quick. :S I have ordered a new computer. So I may find myself busy for a few days, setting it up, transferring everything over from my old computer etc so you'll have to bear with me. Also, it's incredibly difficult to find out information about military callsigns. So I had to just go off information I already had. Don't expect it to be too accurate. ¬¬

Bitemarks 1.9

"Hotel One Niner this is Zero Alpha. Please respond."
Skarletta sat in the back of the helicopter as she heard the voice crackle through the pilot's headset. She was still far from fluent in this new tongue but the messages grew increasingly urgent.
"Hotel One Niner, this is Zero Alpha. Please respond!"
Skarletta looked out of the side of the chopper at the land far below. She wasn't really sure how high a drop she could survive but this was no time for uncertainty.
"Fly lower." she commanded the pilot and the chopper began to descend.
"Hotel One Niner this is Zero Alpha. Intercept en route."
She didn't like the sound of that. Intercept. She pulled the chopper's side door open and peered out. They were getting lower. She waited. Waited as long as she dare. Waited until it felt right. When she judged the height to be sufficient she ordered the pilot to ascend again and then leapt from the chopper. She'd chosen her point specifically for the tall buildings she could see below her, reducing the height of her fall dramatically. Still it hurt as she crashed onto the solid concrete roof of one of the buildings. Despite their strength the bones in her legs snapped clean and rocketed through the skin and she struck the back of her head hard against the unyielding surface and passed out.

When she came to night had fallen. She rubbed the back of her head. It felt intact though it throbbed like crazy. Her body's unique metabolism had taken care of her wounds while she had been unconscious and she tentatively rose to her feet. The bones had repaired and she was thankful for that. But now she felt the hunger again. The need to feed to replace that lost life energy. Food first, she told herself, then she would have the energy to spawn some distractions.
The roof she was on was high but not as high as the drop from the copter. She leapt nimbly over the edge and landed catlike on a lower roof nearby. From there it was a simple drop to the alleyway between the two. Her initial bone breaking fall had left her uniform trousers in tatters and she reminded herself of the need for clothing to blend among the Dherroine. She needed to orient herself with this place. She peeked out of the alley into the lit street. People milled about, going about whatever business kept them from their domiciles at such hour. She checked behind her. The alleyway continued around the corner of the smaller building and she followed it. There was a male Dherroine at the other end, leaning unsteadily against the wall. He smelt funny and so did his blood. Instinct told her he was not good to feed upon and so she made to walk past him.
"Well hello there darling."
His hand fell on her shoulder as she passed him. Unusual. She actually fought the urge to tear it from its socket. What did this filthy Dherroine want so badly that he dare lay a hand upon her. It took her even more by surprise as his grip tightened and he spun her round to face him before shoving her back hard against the alley wall. Bemused, Skarletta stared into the man's eyes. The man leered at her and she smelt the stench again. It was coming from his breath. Memories flooded back to her. Certain beverages containing a substance, alcohol, she rolled that word around her brain, alcohol which made Dherroine act foolish and tasted foul to her mouth. Even while she mulled this thought over she felt the man suddenly stuff his hand, forcibly, down the waistband of her trousers. She had no idea what this fool thought he was doing but had tired of him now. Still staring quietly into his eyes she returned the action, stuffing her hand into his trousers. She took a firm grip on what she found down there, smiled wickedly, and pulled with all her might. The bloodcurdling scream that left the Dherroine's mouth was music to her ears. She headbutted him square on the forehead and watched him reel backwards. She shook her head, tossed the man's severed genitals to the far side of the alley and planted a foot in his face. There was a crunch as the heel of her foot caved in his skull and then he screamed no more. Such a pity he was tainted by that alcohol. Her hunger was growing by the second...

4shared

Some of you may remember that I mentioned Geocities was shutting down a few months ago which left me with no more online storage. However. A friendly Malaysian chap I bumped into on last.fm pointed me towards 4shared. And it's pretty fantastic. ^^ So all the In the Bloods and the two volumes of poetry are back online. There's a link down there on the left in the "places you can find me" box. Or you can just head over to:
http://charon.4shared.com
And it's free! :o Ten whole gig of storage for nothing. Awesome. You may even notice I stuck the song that me 'n' Kreate made ages ago. Available for download or...


Embed code! :D Win. So if "Song for the Girl" gets turned into a song I'll likely shove that up there too. I've also uploaded some other things like the "Learn English" and "Descent into Madness" series.

It's pretty awesome. ^^

Words I Hate.

Nightlife.

Noun
Nightlife is all the entertainment and social activities that are available at night in towns and cities, such as nightclubs and theatres.

...

Nightclubs and theatres. Well there's two opposite ends of the fucking spectrum right there. Those are two things that really deserved to be lumped together. 'Cos they're gonna attract the same crowd of people. Nightclubs and theatres...
Nightlife.
This place has such great nightlife... so if you get bored trying to get to sleep don't worry about it, there's both nightclubs and theatres so you're bound to find something to do.

Nightclubs as well while I'm on about it. Nightclubs. Clubs exclusively for night time. They require that night prefix (It's not a fucking prefix!) to differentiate them from the many dayclubs I've accidentally stumbled into...
Theatres are open during the day right? So what are they then? They're not part of the nightlife. So they must be part of the daylife. Along with the dayclubs. And day spas! Which means that somewhere there are people chilling in a night spa...

It's just unnecessary. Telling me somewhere has nightlife is pointless. What you're really saying is that it has a theatre and one or more nightclubs. One or more nightclubs that are exactly the same as each other inside, play the same music, have the same knobheads milling round out front and smell of the same sick. With names like 'Yeah!' or 'Badgers' or something that ends in 'bar'. In Manchester alone, within walking distance of each other we had Kro Bar, Scubar, Zumeba and Bar Bar.
Kinda makes me hate the word 'bar'.

And I hate all the words for paint that's not exactly white but not quite cream. Loads of made up words. Like these... these are actual names of colours (for women and gay men):
Ghost White.
Old Lace? O_O
Cosmic Latte...

Cosmic latte!! WTF! How can you take a word like cosmic and ruin it by mixing it with a stupid word like latte. Latte which is some weird bastardization of milky.
"I'll have a skinny latte"
"A what?"
"Coffee, white, no sugar"

Bah.

Cosmic fucking latte. Who even gets to name colours? Wasn't that Adam's job? Or did he just name the animals and fuck everything else?
God: So Adam, I made like 50 shades of white. Wanna name them?
Adam: Fuck off.

Or something. That might not have been the actual dialogue. In fact probably not because they wouldn't have spoke in English.

Sooooo...

Don't say Nightlife any more. Or I'll introduce you to its opposite...
Nightdeath!
*stab*

Bitemarks 1.8

Bitemarks 1.8

It was dark by the time Ed finally found the address. He was so deep into rural France he didn't even know which region it was anymore. Even Google maps had tried to convince him the address didn't exist. In the end he had to rely on a handful of scribbled notes from Alf and the rental car waiting at the airport to get him to his destination. And so here he was, parked up on a windy country road that led through forested mountains, facing a dark wooden gate. He looked up, his eyes following the wooden staircase that led up to the house. He climbed out of the car and tucked his gun, for all the good it would do, into the waistband of his jeans. He smoothed his t-shirt back over it but it did little to hide the bulge so he fastened the bottom three buttons on his leather trenchcoat. He didn't intend to kill Beauclair and knew he probably couldn't if he did want to but it made him feel more secure. He steeled himself, pushed the gate open and started climbing the staircase. It terminated in decking at the top that ran along the wall of the house and a large wooden door. Ed took a deep breath then rapped loudly upon it. He waited, counting towards sixty in his head. When he reached the minute mark he raised his fist to knock again but the door swung open before he could. Ed wasn't going to let himself be unnerved and stepped through, pushing the door closed behind him before it could slam shut of its own accord. There was no one inside but the lights were on, although rather dim for his liking. There were doors to his left and right but they were closed and so Ed wandered down the hallway a little further. He passed two more doors and then the hall opened out into a staircase not unlike his father's place. He heard a sound to his left and turned to see an old man hobbling towards him, a cane held firmly in his left hand. Ed sized him up. He was just over six feet tall though slightly hunched and his long hair was grey. No, not grey, silver, like an ageing Hollywood actor. He smiled at Ed with a mouthful of yellowed yet sharp teeth. He flexed his fingers wrapped around the cane's handle, giving Ed a good glimpse of his jet black pointed fingernails. Impeccably manicured and impeccably tailored too in a crisp purple suit with white shirt. It hung open at the neck, no tie. He pulled his right hand from his pocket to reveal a black electronic device.
"Remote control for... the door." he explained, "Just... a parlour trick really."
He pressed it and the door opened then closed again behind Ed. Ed shrugged.
"Can't say I'm surprised." he said, noting that Beauclair had spoken in English, albeit with a mild French accent. "I take it Alf told you I was coming."
Beauclair nodded.
"And from your English accent... and mention of him I deduce... that I find myself in the presence... of Ed Baxter."
He had a peculiar way of talking, pausing at certain moments like somebody doing a caricatured William Shatner impersonation.
"And you're Jean Beauclair. Which completes the pleasantries."
"Quite..." A lengthier pause, "But we need not... talk in the corridor like scullerymaids... come... I have the... fire in the drawing room."
He turned and hobbled off and Ed followed him.

Beauclair led him into a large drawing room. Sure enough a fire burnt away in a large hearth. There were three quilted comfortable looking chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the fireplace and a sturdy semi-circular table separating them from the flames. Atop the table were two brandy glasses containing what Ed could only presume to be brandy, and a large ashtray that looked to be ivory. Two fat cigars sat alongside it. Beauclair made his way to the furthest chair and lowered himself into it. Ed followed his lead and sat down. Beauclair raised one of the brandy glasses and took a slug, sighing.
"Try the brandy." he offered, "I assure you it is... not poisoned or tainted. In fact, it's... older than you are."
Ed was cautious but he raised the brandy glass and took a sniff. It smelled of nothing other than alcohol and he took a mouthful, feeling it burn its way down his throat. Beauclair pulled a silver cigar cutter from his pocket and snipped the end off one of the cigars and offered it to Ed. Ed lit the cigar with his zippo and then offered the flame to Beauclair.
"So... you have come a long way to... see me. Alf was a little... vague about your reasons."
Ed flicked ash from the fat cigar.
"You seem a smart man Beauclair. Why don't you tell me what you... deduce?"
He laughed at that and tapped a pointed fingernail upon the desk.
"Yes... very well. You have become aware of me... yes?" he looked to Ed for confirmation but he was giving nothing away. "And you were the man sent to check... on Dr Keibler and his team... tell me. What of Dr Keibler?"
Ed leaned back and stretched his arms a little.
"Ok Beauclair. Let's cut through the crap. I know you bought your way out of the cull. I know that you're a vampire."
"Yes, the... last of my kind."
"There you're wrong."
"Oh?"
"Dr Keibler and his team are dead, Beauclair. All of them. Killed by one, possibly more, vampires."
Beauclair seemed genuinely surprised at this.
"And what led you to this... conclusion?"
"They were fed upon." Ed replied, "All ten of them."
This time Beauclair actually seemed shocked.
"But that's ridiculous. Even... at my height I... never fed off ten men in a day."
"Well then it's a remarkable fucking coincidence isn't it?" asked Ed, not even trying to conceal the sarcasm. "One solitary vampire survives the cull. Then all these years later he sends an archaeologist to the remote north where suddenly they are attacked by another vampire. One which feels the need to feed on all ten of them. Feel free to fill in the holes here."
"I..."
"You can start with why you sent Dr Keibler and his team to their deaths."
"I had no idea Ed... They were searching for... well..."
"What? What did they find?"
Beauclair sighed.
"This will be easier if I show you a little something."
He rose to his feet, leaving the cane behind.
"Come with... me Ed. Perhaps I... can she some light upon this."

Bitemarks 1.7

Bitemarks 1.7

Skarletta lay in the snow and listened to the sound of the second helicopter landing. She couldn't see but she could hear their heartbeats, feel their pulses. Six of them were nervous, poised to leap from the metal contraption as it neared the floor. The other was the pilot. That career choice was the only reason he would survive the next few minutes. The helicopter touched down and she heard the crunch of six pairs of boots hitting the snow.
"Go go go." she heard one of them yell. And so she did.
She flipped herself up from her hiding place beneath the snow and launched herself into the air. Even as the soldiers turned to face the sound she was passing over their heads to land on the floor behind them. Six assault rifles whirled round to fix on her position. One was too slow. She kicked the weapon from the hands of the nearest soldier and punched a hole through his gut. Panic took over the remaining men. In a flurry of confusion they fired. Skarletta felt a torrent of bullets riddle her chest and howled. She jumped again, landing in the centre of the group. The soldiers had no choice but to stop firing lest they hit each other and in the seconds that it took them to reformulate their plan and try to reposition themselves she killed two more, snapping their necks like twigs. The weapons they had had hurt her but she had weapons of her own. Fear and surprise were evident on the soldiers cries as they questioned aloud why she still stood, dripping blood from the many bullet holes. She saw them making the most of their comrades death. Watched the expert way they circled until the three remaining men all stood facing her. The weapons were rising again and she had no desire to take a second barrage. She moved with all the speed she could muster, grabbing the closest soldier and sliding behind him. Even as the other soldiers fired she held her captive in front of her as a shield. Some bullets made it through and struck her but the burst of fire was brief as they realised their mistake. It was still too late. Their mistake had cost them their lives. She threw their betrayed comrade at one of the remaining soldiers and vaulted over to the other. She landed behind him, snapped his neck and dashed to the last. She could hear the helicopter taking off and had little time. He'd managed to dodge the lifeless ragdoll of his teammate and raised his weapon against her. Skarletta snarled and snatched the gun from his grasp. He was too scared to put up a fight and she swung the weapon round, clubbing him across the head with the butt. He fell and Skarletta tossed the rifle aside. She stopped only briefly, to bend down and drink deeply from his neck then turned back to the chopper. The bullet holes in her chest began to close over as she watched the chopper climbing higher into the sky. She crouched, tensing her muscles as tightly as she could and launched herself into the sky. She timed it beautifully, landing on the windshield of the chopper without striking the rotors and grinned at the panicking pilot. She pulled back a fist and punched the glass. It didn't break. She stared at the pilot through the window. He stared back. Skarletta smiled and forced the Thrall upon him.
"Fly" she commanded him mentally, "Return to where you came from." and dutifully the pilot obliged. Skarletta sighed deeply and manoeuvred herself along the side of the chopper until she could open the side hatch and clamber inside. She lay in the back of the chopper, breathing heavily as her wounds healed. She didn't like these uniformed Dherroine. Their weapons were powerful and accurate and dangerous. Moreso than any she'd previously known. In number they could be her death. It was time for her to swell her own ranks...

Chasing Ms Quinn

Playing Batman reminded me just how much I love Harley Quinn. ^^





And a chance to ogle the amazing design work in detail. Beautiful.



Sense of humour, kooky dress sense, slightly demented, simultaneously intelligent and stupid... what's not to love?!

I jus' cannae dae it cap'n!

You see... sometimes it gets to this point.

He seals his secret thoughts in a simple paper packet
Pops it safely in a pocket on the inside of his jacket
Stops to take a look at her picture in his locket...


This is the point where I bang my head against the table and cry, "I can't do it. I'm not Eminem, it's too hard!"
*thud*

There's just no way I can squeeze a decent line in there and still turn it into some decent poem. I pondered "Pulled back to the memory with the speed of a space rocket" then beat my head against the desk again. It's just one of those ideas that's going nowhere.

My point, and there is one, is that this shit is HARD! And thus, I always appreciate your patience in waiting for my genius to emerge from its somewhat bruised cocoon.
Night night.

Bitemarks 1.6

Just a short one because I have to go to work.

Bitemarks 1.6

Ed didn't bother knocking on Alf's door. He shoved it open and barged inside. Alf was sitting at his desk filling in paperwork.
"Ed?..."
"How long has Beauclair been funding this organization, Alf?"
"I don't see how that's relevant."
"Oh it's relevant, Alf, very fucking relevant."
"What happened?"
"The excavation team are dead. All dead, even the soldiers."
"How?"
"A vampire."
"Impossible." Alf pushed his glasses up his nose. "Vampires are extinct."
"Are they, Alf? Are they really? Because let me tell you. Even a schoolchild could have looked at that scene and told you a vampire did it. This isn't coincidence. What was a vampire doing alive and well in the Arctic?"
"I..."
"How long has Beauclair been funding this organization?!"
Alf sighed, defeated.
"Ed."
"Don't give me that warning tone."
"A hundred and five years."
"Dammit." Ed smashed his fist down on the table.
"Ed, you have to understand..."
"Understand what? Greed? Stupidity? Recklessness? What was the agreement? Beauclair is allowed to survive the cull and in return he funds this place for life?"
"The cull was expensive Ed. The Bureau had to make certain... concessions."
"And you knew? You knew all this time that there was still one out there?"
"You're over-reacting Ed. I know this is an emotional time..."
"I am NOT over-reacting!" Ed brought his fist down again. "You know what these things are capable of and now we have one, maybe more, on the loose. That damn Beauclair could have been spawning for decades!"
"Ed, we don't know that."
"What other explanation is there?"
"I don't know, Ed. This is all very unexpected."
"Unexpected? Our agency, who has pledged to destroy monsters like this, allowed a vampire to survive the cull in exchange for cash and this is unexpected? I want to visit him. Where's he live?"
"France, but Ed..."
"No buts Alf. Get me a flight booked. Beauclair must know what went on up there and we don't have time to waste. You know how fast these things can multiply. That's why there was a mass cull in the first place."
"Ok Ed. Fine. You win. Go see Beauclair. But be careful. Beauclair is a very powerful man and not just because he's a vampire."
"Fine. And when the flight's booked you better get every available agent looking for this thing. News reports. Hospitals. Any sign of any vampiric activity we need to be on it fast."

Yawn

I am made of tired today.
*yawn*
So I played Batman instead of doing the next Bitemarks. :o Naughty I know. But seriously... Batman is awesome. Anyways, I actually get some days off next week. So hopefully I'll get the ball rolling on this Bitemarks thing. I have the next few bits planned out in my head it's just a matter of finding time to write it!
Ok so I didn't just spend all day playing Batman. I was at work all morning then lumping furniture round because my folks have gone mental and bought a new fridge and two new TVs...
*yawn*
So I'll just slope off to sleep... before work tomorrow...
*yawn*
*thud*

Bitemarks 1.5

Sorry for delay. Life and whatnot.
Also, note. Dherroine. Deh-ro-een.

Bitemarks 1.5

Ed left the sleeping quarters and made his way down the final corridor. There was an eating area with two more corpses. Ed kept track mentally. This made seven. These two men had died the same way as the other civilians. Broken necks and then fed upon. Why would one vampire feed on seven men? There had to be more to this than meets the eye. Multiple vampires? But why here? There was another connecting corridor from here and Ed found the second solider. He was naked from the waist down and had his jacket pulled up over his head. The pool of blood around him was enough that Ed didn't want to see the damage under the jacket. There was a bullet on the floor near him. A fired bullet. Looks like he'd shot the vampire before it got him. He wondered what the army was going to make of this. He continued on and came into the lab room. Here were the final two civilians. He recognized one of them as Dr Keibler. There was a table in the centre of the room with chunks of ice upon it and more ice underneath. It had probably been a pool of water until the external doors had been left open, dropping the temperature throughout the complex. Ed wondered what the scientists had been up to. He checked his watch. There wasn't time for much research. He opened the nearest file cabinet and flicked through the most recent files. He couldn't make head nor tail of what he was seeing. He glanced around the lab some more and found a dictaphone laying on one worktop. He picked it up and rewound the tape then played it.
"Expedition: Arctic 3912: Dr Keibler. Tape 2. We managed to haul the specimen back to the lab though it wasn't easy. Thank god for those military guys. It'll be some time before the surface defrosts enough to allow a better visual of what we have here."
*click*
"The surface ice is melting nicely. Specimen seems in unusually good condition. Female, age difficult to discern. Under twenty possibly. I can't date our finding yet. The skull shape is hard to place. No clothing remains. All we can do is wait for now."
*click*
"The body is partially exposed now. I'm chipping away some surface ice carefully but it's slow work. I'm no longer sure what to make of this. Could it be a hoax?"
*click*
The tape ended there. Specimen? From the notes Alf provided these guys were supposed to be looking for a mammoth. What did they find instead? The evidence all pointed to a vampire. One frozen in the arctic wastelands? Ed didn't know enough about the subject. His work here was done. He put the dictaphone back and pulled a cloth from his trouser pocket. He wiped his prints off the recorder and the files and filing cabinet. With practiced precision he made his way back to the main door of the complex, wiping anywhere he'd touched. He hit his radio as he reached the main door.
"Wilbur, do you read?"
"Loud and clear Ed. No sightings yet. Everything is clear."
"Ok, bring her down. Let's get out of here."
Ed silenced the radio and cracked the door open, wiping his prints off afterwards. He left the door as he'd found it, swinging loosely in the breeze and looked out at the landing pad as the chopper came into view.


From her vantage point Skarletta watched the metal bird return. She had hidden herself here for now, covered loosely with snow some distance from the complex. She had seen the thing land nearby and seen one of them get out. The Dherroine. That was her word for them but now they called themselves something different. She could feel the blood of all those men pulsing through her veins. She still couldn't remember the specifics but she could feel the blood filling in the answers. Humans. She tried the word out on her lips, silently. How they had changed. The Dherroine of her time were so different. Slower, stupider, technologically backward. These Dherroine had strange ranged weaponry, devices with flashing lights that made crackling noises, odd clothing, a whole new language and that strange metal bird. She watched the first man clamber back into the thing and saw it take off. He would have seen the bodies. Skarletta needed a distraction. But first, she needed to find an area with more Dherroine. A heavily populated centre. Bigger than a simple tribal village. A small town or suchlike. She waited 'til the sound of the metal bird had left and then burst from her hiding place. She covered the distance to the helipad in seconds and reburied herself in the snow nearby. Sooner or later another would arrive. She could sense it and when it did, she would be free of this icy wasteland. Free to carry on. She couldn't remember what she was supposed to do but seeing the metal bird had been enough to remind her that there was an important task to accomplish. She lay down in the snow and shifted around until her face was covered too. She didn't feel the cold, especially with all that blood still inside her. She lay. And listened to its secrets. She played their voices back in her mind.
"What the fuck?!"
"No please, I have a wife, children!"
"Shit, she's coming!"
"Hold it right there. One more step and I'll shoot!"
"Dr Keibler, I heard scream..."
"No! Noooo!"
She smiled to herself under her snowy blanket.
"Helicopter." she said.