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Syntax · Shadows

Prologue, Part Three

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     Mister Saint-Christopher is a man of heritage on the western continent, but his accent and mannerisms are unmistakably drawn from an entire life in the Kingdom, permitting eastern holidays.He is a tall man of middle-age, and well means through previously mentioned acquires as well as other various businesses, but he is intelligent and sharp-witted, and quite able to fit with any class of society he might encounter.Because of his ties to the western lands, he has been brought up with the mysticism there-in, and his faction of people believe greatly in the spirits of animals, and this, he strives to impart to Joanna, but she finds it difficult to believe in such things.
     A mere month after being in their present home, Mister Saint-Christopher had taken Joanna to see a youth of which he had called Coyote.Like Mister Saint-Christopher, the boy had a ever present tan on his skin, and his hair was coal black, as seemed his eyes save for very bright light, when they appeared to be a chocolate browne.These things I had noted, but also had Joanna as she spoke them to Mister Saint-Christopher at her and Coyote's first meeting.His residence seemed to be that of an old warehouse in the docklands of Kings Lynn in Norfolk.On the air was the familiar salt scent of the sea, and though the docks creeked under their non-constant use, I managed to keep my step with theirs, and otherwise silent.
 However graceful I was on my feet, the old wood of a water drenched dock made no mind and went on its rickity way.When they entered the warehouse, I found myself quite distressed at the apparent energies surrounding the area.The metres on my electronics were wild and I could not bring myself to follow my subject.I made a quick round of the building, and a view upwards, and the energy on the building itself was so slippery, I could not scale it.Satisfied on my outward observations, I made note of the anomolies, and sat on a series of crates near-by to wait for their eventual return.
     When they did, Joanna was visibly shaken, and Mister Saint-Christopher had an arm around her and a hand on her shoulder, comforting her, but neither had spoken of the occurances with-in, though I was genuinely curious as to what it might be.I continued my observations on that day straight to their home and as Joanna retired to bed, Mister Saint-Christopher spent several hours writing in the study, of which I have little knowledge of, as it was in a language I am not familiar with.
     They have made several treks back to this warehouse, and each time I am unable to enter it as the same aqueous energy surrounding the building prevents it, and each time Joanna has appeared the same, and they do not speak of it.Having said this now, it was this night Mister Saint-Christopher brought up the name of the apparent man in the warehouse.
     "You would do well to remember what Coyote said about upsetting yourself too drasticlly, Joanna," said Mister Saint-Christopher, sitting in a cushioned single chair near-to the lit fireplace.


He put his pen down and closed the book, resigning to finish from the recording later.Re-adjusting his mico-screen, he sat back and smoked, watching, and listening to the conversation.Inside the other accomodations, Joanna did not respond to Mister Saint-Christopher and continued to read, until, quite annoyed, he spoke again, "Would you care for some tea?" Mister Saint-Christopher questioned, lighting a browne clay pipe.
     The young lady tilted her head to the side, as if suddenly becomming aware of the quest, then shrugged, "If you wish" said she, quite simply.
     Mister Saint-Christopher rose and walked ot the door of the study, pressing a small, round button near the frame of the door, then returned to his position near the fire.
     Joanna leaned back in her dark green, leather chair, letting it lean back on its springs ever so little, before sitting upright again.In a few moments, there came a small knock at the door and Miss Sutherland entered with a fine silver tray and the refreshments.
     "I shall take it here, if you please," Joanna said, hardly glancing at the elderly woman, as in her usual manner, she gestured to her desk.
     Mister Saint-Christopher took his on a small table near his chair and Miss Sutherland promtly left, leaving a small few letters from the nightly mail on the coffee table.
     "These things have their drawbacks, dear," Mister Saint-Christopher said, setting his pipe on the small table.
 Joanna stopped the typing she had begun on her computre and sighed in a frustrated manner before taking a small sandwhich in her hand, "I know that, Niel, and do not call me dear, for the last time.I am no animal, thank you."
     Mister Saint-Christopher let a smile creep across his face and left it.Their evening was uneventful until quite out of the serenity of the beautiful string orchestra that play on the disc-player was disturbed by the beeping of the video-phone on Niel's desk.He rose and paused the disc-player, then pressed the small, flashing green button on his desk.
     Appearing on the screen was a woman Mister Saint-Christopher immedietly grimaced to the sight of.Her skin was ebony and beautifuly constructed around her delicate face, and her golden eyes slit as a felines rather than rounded as a humans.Her elven features were obvious and coupled with her other physical enchance, she could have been mistaken for one of the Eagles.Her black hair was plaited in so many it would have been hard to count, but the sides of her head were permanently shaved as to make room for the two connectors in either temple.
     The slightly distorted audio of the still fairly newly discovered macinery crackled before settling down and the woman smiled, "How lovelly it is to see you, Niel.And here I thought  you wouldn't speak to me."
     Mister Saint-Christopher sighed, "You are calling on my telephone, Cesily," said he, annoyed at his own responce.
     "Yes, well I wouldn't have seen your most stunning, handsome face had I called Joanna directly.Would you transfer, please, my most beautious man?" Cesily questioned, in a tone of feminine measure, yet her features brought her out to be anything, but a lady.
     With a swift and aggravted motion, Mister Saint-Christopher pressed a few buttons and his screen went blank, transfering the picture to Joanna's.The young woman of observation smiled warmly at this little inter-course, and had still a smile on her face when Cesily's image appeared before her.
     "Good evening, Cesily" said she, quite warmly. "I have been waiting for your call for an hour now.Did you just return to the Kingdom?"
     Cesily's image flickered as she must have been moving around on her end, but it re-settled as her image became clearer, "I did, little one, and I thought to contact you first."
     Cesily's origins had been quite a mystery to all who knew or spoke to her, but her accent was of the eastern continent and most likely that of Greece or southern Italy.
     Joanna smiled at the elfs genuine compliment, "Thank you for that.Did you finish your work, completely, in Berlin then?"
     "Oh I did.It's all well and fine enough and I've found something for you as well," the image on the screen crackled. "I am uploading to your L."
     Cesily and Joanna first met each other a year and a month ago, and yet their friendship and trust seemed immediate and unbreakable.On the screen of Joanna's computre, there was a brief green flickering as data transferred through the uneasy, yet well protected wiring of the house.
     Mister Saint-Christopher moved himself to the side of Joanna and peered into the video phone, "Cesily, as much as it has been a pleasure to speak with you, would you call back another time?We have some things to take care of."
     His hand moved quickly to the off switch before the elf could answer, and the connection broke.Joanna sighed and swivlled her chair to the side, accessing her computres L system.
     "How rude," said she, throwing a side-glance in the direction of Mister Saint-Christopher. "I have not spoken to her in quite a while."
     "Good," Mister Saint-Christopher said, lounging over to a settee and sitting on it. "Perhaps it will be longer still before your next conversation." He lit his old clay pipe and picked up the Daily, scanning through it with little interest.
     Brushing the insult to the side as she did often, Joanna read through the information processed on her screen.The patterns and heiroglyphs on the screen fluttered across and down in semingly chaotic patterns, but the quick eyes of the young woman followed them.In the next house her observer had not the adequate knowledge to translate them so quickly, save for a person with the name of Flies with the Dragons, something about his death in a battle of mysticism, and his shaman talisman being lost in the afore mentioned dispute.
     Joanna sat back in her plush chair and placed her hands to-gether in contemplation.She turned off her computre and turned around in her chair, addressing Mister Saint-Christopher, "We have work to do, as you said.We may as well be off."
     Joanna stood and walked out of the room, in deep thought, taking each of the stairs she stepped on carefully.Her room, now tidy, seemed larger to her as she entered.The night was upon them and with skill and precision, she was dressed for excavations in a matter of minutes.Her payden and eatra body-suit fit snugly and over it she pulled a simple grey/black cotton and wool dress with lace trimmings.Almost dreamily, she sat at her chestnut marble topped vanity dresser and began to plait her hair.Her eyes seemed to glimmer in the mirror before her, and behind her was the distinct sound of a distant crackling of fire.As her fingers moved in-between her hair, a light caught in the mirror and danced around her.Joanna placed her hand down on a brush and gazed in, narrowing her eyes to see what it was when a voice cracked the dream.

Current Mood:
contemplative contemplative
Current Music:
Xrispa - Den mou eisai aparaithtos
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