Java Elemental

Ladylike (explicit) by Storm and The Balls

Java Elemental — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:54:28 -0000

Every Woman Has A Name by Alice Cooper

Java Elemental — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:54:28 -0000

The Sentinel by Alice Cooper

Java Elemental — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:54:27 -0000

Updates to playlist: Writing List

Java Elemental — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 06:16:57 -0000

Chapter Eight

Java Elemental — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 22:08:48 -0000

Since it's been so long between chapters, a short recap is available here. And now, on to Chapter Eight!

Hours later, I was wandering around the suburban ranch-style safehouse Honey had agreed to rent to me. Rent on credit, of course. She even gave me a twenty percent discount, since I may have saved her life earlier. She argued a good case for my having endangered it in the first place, but I rather think she had over-insured the bar, and the prospect of looming massive profits had her a little bit giddy.

I’m glad Honey was happy. I certainly wasn’t. Thanks to that little soirée at the bar, the shadow was absolutely glutted with power. One of Dmitri’s turbocharged geists was more energy than I usually allowed her, and she’d gobbled down ten or fifteen at Honey’s bar. Oh, and then she’d feasted on Dmitri’s reserves, swallowing so much raw magical energy it felt like she’d gorged on a small nuke.

The sheer swollen strength of her terrified me. I tried to be terrified quietly. She had that habit of picking up on what I’m thinking, and I suspect the only reason she hadn’t made a lunge for the reins was because it hadn’t occurred to her to try. Like the old yarn about training baby elephants - put a logging chain around their leg, and as they grow, make it a smaller and smaller chain. Eventually, you have a full-grown bull elephant secured with a string around one leg. That was my shadow and me, and Elder Gods help me if she ever figured it out.

I forced those thoughts aside again, hoping they hadn’t caught her attention.

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Chapter Seven

Java Elemental — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 06:24:02 -0000

When we last left our intrepid adventures, Alice was standing at the point of Irish's sword, staring death in the eye ... again.

I swallowed, hard, dropping back a step. “I can explain.”
“You can explain?” His voice was quiet, even, and he moved with me and pressed the tip of the sword against the base of my throat. He wasn’t breaking the skin, not yet.
“I know this looks bad, but --” I stepped back again, slowly, and he let me. The remnants of Dmitri’s body lay on the floor between us.
The bar was trashed, tables tipped over, chairs broken, and bodies slumped everywhere. The lights were blown out, and every few seconds, one of the old neon Budweiser signs shot a few sparks. Honey stood off to my left, gore-spattered and shotgun still in one hand, staring down at the scant remains of Dmitri's host. The bar was dim and strewn in shadow, the only light filtering in from the slagged front door and the hole in the alley wall. The darkness stirred in response to my nerves, sharp shifts and swirls that moved widdershins around the room, sometimes eclipsing one of the exits entirely. In that shifting half-light, Irish looked like he was carved out of stone.
“Looks bad?” The volume went up a notch, his eyes darkening with wrath. The Irishman was staring at me, mouth a hard, frowning line, eyes hot, angry, shoulders tight, a white-knuckled grip on the hilt of his sword. “Looks bad?? Yeh break into my fuckin' house, go through my personal belongings, steal them --”
“Steal? Hey, now.” I began, but he went right on, voice getting louder as he stepped forward over the corpse.
“Dragging me out here, where the bastard responsible for callin’ demons into my fuckin’ city --”
“Your city!?” The shadow stopped her rotations, and turned her attention to us with something like offense. She and I had both bristled at that. We’d just established ourselves as the biggest baddest thing in this town – we’d survived an Inquisitor today, and wiped the floor with Dmitri, who was stronger than anything I’d even heard of! Where did this guy get off claiming it was his city?
“--just happens t' show up and heal you while yer fuckin demon tries t' kill me!” He was shouting by the time he was done, red faced. “You set me up!” He roared, and all in a rush, I realized exactly how bad it did look.
What I should have done, I remember thinking, was do the downcast eye thing again and speak softly. I should have sniffled a little and said something about how I was only trying to help. But instead, I laughed at him.
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Chapter Six

Java Elemental — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 02:46:30 -0000

And, finally, we have Chapter Six done! This was an incredibly difficult chapter to organize and write, but we're very pleased with the results. It involved a lot of action and exposition, a few introductions, and blowing several things up in a really big, fun way. It took us forever to get it into a state we liked, but here it is, along with a handy -- and by now, probably much-needed -- recap.
Chapter One: Alice and Irish meet over a dead body -- apparently, not an unusual circumstance for them -- and discover that the dead body belongs to one Devon Brant, Deputy Mayor of Detroit. We learn that Alice is a mage, an "artificer" to be precise, one who makes magical gadgets. Irish, on the other hand, is the much-feared local Inquisitor, a member of the Order of St. Heinrich, Catholic monster hunters. We discover that Devon Brant's body is contaminated by an "alien" (IE, extra-dimensional) presence, which is Bad News. We see one of the sons of the local Mafia shot down right outside the crime scene, learn that Alice is something called an "outlander" -- a human possessed of a Lovecraft-style demon, that Irish is worried about "retirement", and that Irish and Alice have forged something of an alliance despite their enmity.
Chapter Two: Alice goes after Benny DeAngelo's killers, and we meet the infamous Mama DeAngelo over the phone. We learn how Alice and Irish met, and started working together. Alice finds and dispatches Benny's killers, making a big fun mess in the process, loses her cellphone, and meets "Dmitri", a vastly-powerful entity of an unknown sort, responsible for Benny's death.
Chapter Three: Alice slips by a "grateful" Mama DeAngelo and returns home, where she finds an extremely annoyed Irishman waiting for her. Seems the Deputy Mayor "hatched", and we find Irish somewhat worse for wear for dealing with it. Alice invites him in because he doesn't give her much other choice, and she gets him patched up. In the process, she discovers his Order tattoo is an artifact enchanted with a geas, which she deactivates. We also get to meet Alice's former husband, the house-zombi Gene, see a bit of her work shop, and have an impromptu photography session that isn't going to work out well for anyone involved.
Chapter Four: Just as she's getting ready to crawl into bed, Alice gets called from the house to deal with another victim of the strange creature loose in Detroit, and there we meet two of the Knights, Grace and Tyler. On her way there, Alice bumps into the mystery photographer, who turns out to be Irish's superior officer, and a replacement Inquisitor. Alice swipes the Inquisitor's cellphone, deals with alien monstrosities, gets dispatched to meet with "Owen", and then finds out that the Order means to execute Irish for treason.
Chapter Five: Alice calls her bartender friend, Honey, to arrange a meet with Irish, to warn him of the Order's treachery, and in the meantime, races to the location provided -- inadvertently -- by Father Tanner. There, she meets some old friends, and learns a stunning secret about Irish, before butting heads with Cat once again.

Chapter Six
I parked a few blocks from Bushie’s, and nearly fell down when I stepped out of the Chevy. My shoes were working just fine – their magically enhanced footing keeping me from slipping on the icy pavement, but my knees were another story. I found a big parka in the back of the Chevy, and I threw that on to cover the guns and machete. I attempted to wash some of the blood off my face with a little of Detroit’s grimy snow, but I still wasn’t fit for the public eye. All it would take was some do-gooder calling the cops for the poor, beat-up redhead, and I’d be hip-deep in trouble. I’d just have to hope that wearing the hood up, and keeping my face shrouded in shadows did the trick. Particularly considering that my CCWs were in my purse… along with my cigarettes, dammit. And of course, I’d managed to steal a car belonging to a non-smoking restaurant employee, which fit nicely with my luck lately. I gathered up the sketchbooks and the steering wheel, and carefully made my way down a series of side streets and narrow alleys, avoiding the main roads. Most of the way, I had to lean against a wall for support.
I felt awful. I could feel the shadow, a cold presence pumping through my veins, crooning her hunger and weariness in a soft hum. She had little concern for our surroundings, which was a rarity. All her attention was devoted to keeping me alive, and that was disturbing. Her ability to effortlessly multitask was something I had come to rely on. How much effort had that escape cost her? She was quiet, and focused on her task. Was I so badly hurt it took all her attention, or was she so drained and weary that she couldn’t spare the resources?
I should have gone to a hospital, not a bar, but what was I supposed to tell the ER attendants? “I’m only alive because an extradimensional demon is keeping me that way, so try to work around her. Careful, she’s hungry.” The very idea left a bad taste in my mouth.
As I made my way to Bushie’s, I kept an eye out for anyone else in the warren of alleys and cul-de-sacs. My shadow was no help – she was definitely weaker than either of us liked. Worse, despite her best efforts, I was pretty sure I was dying. We both needed to feed – her on raw energy, like heat or electricity, or better yet, the pure refined stuff of magic itself. And me, on life. Living souls, like Petey and Maggie. Ten, maybe twelve more people and I might avoid dying. She was taking in ambient light, and what little heat she could glean from the air, which would restore her well enough, given time.
I shook my head as I stepped out of a narrow side street onto the sidewalk in front of Bushie’s. If I died, I had no idea what would happen. The shadow was bound so tightly to me that we were almost a single being. Almost. Maybe she’d die, too. Maybe she’d be free, and she’d die anyway unless she could find a new host.
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Petrified by Xuk

Java Elemental — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 23:13:36 -0000

Chapter Five

Java Elemental — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 17:53:42 -0000

Good lord, about time, huh? This chapter was a dirty little bitch of a thing to write, at least from my point of view, but it was also an exciting chapter, because we've got a "big reveal" tucked in there, and we get to learn some more about our characters. A quick recap for those of you watching from the cheap seats:
Chapter One: Alice and Irish meet over a dead body -- apparently, not an unusual circumstance for them -- and discover that the dead body belongs to one Devon Brant, Deputy Mayor of Detroit. We learn that Alice is a mage, an "artificer" to be precise, one who makes magical gadgets. Irish, on the other hand, is the much-feared local Inquisitor, a member of the Order of St. Heinrich, Catholic monster hunters. We discover that Devon Brant's body is contaminated by an "alien" (IE, extra-dimensional) presence, which is Bad News. We see one of the sons of the local Mafia shot down right outside the crime scene, learn that Alice is something called an "outlander" -- a human possessed of a Lovecraft-style demon, that Irish is worried about "retirement", and that Irish and Alice have forged something of an alliance despite their enmity.
Chapter Two: Alice goes after Benny DeAngelo's killers, and we meet the infamous Mama DeAngelo over the phone. We learn how Alice and Irish met, and started working together. Alice finds and dispatches Benny's killers, making a big fun mess in the process, loses her cellphone, and meets "Dmitri", a vastly-powerful entity of an unknown sort, responsible for Benny's death.
Chapter Three: Alice slips by a "grateful" Mama DeAngelo and returns home, where she finds an extremely annoyed Irishman waiting for her. Seems the Deputy Mayor "hatched", and we find Irish somewhat worse for wear for dealing with it. Alice invites him in because he doesn't give her much other choice, and she gets him patched up. In the process, she discovers his Order tattoo is an artifact enchanted with a geas, which she deactivates. We also get to meet Alice's former husband, the house-zombi Gene, see a bit of her work shop, and have an impromptu photography session that isn't going to work out well for anyone involved.
Chapter Four: Just as she's getting ready to crawl into bed, Alice gets called from the house to deal with another victim of the strange creature loose in Detroit, and there we meet two of the Knights, Grace and Tyler. On her way there, Alice bumps into the mystery photographer, who turns out to be Irish's superior officer, and a replacement Inquisitor. Alice swipes the Inquisitor's cellphone, deals with alien monstrosities, gets dispatched to meet with "Owen", and then finds out that the Order means to execute Irish for treason.

Chapter Five
I quickly strode out of the building, furiously thumbing through the rest of “Cat’s” messages. There wasn’t much else in there that was useful – a lot of picture texts captioned with addresses and time/date stamps, all forwarded already to Tanner’s number. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked around. A few steps down, a young guy in a suit and an expensive overcoat was about to get into a cab. I pushed in front of him and put my elbow in his midsection, ducking into his cab. He let out a squawk of complaint, and halfway into the cab I paused, shooting him a look that made him stagger back a step and hold his hands up. I had one leg in the cab, and my coat hung open, so maybe it was the machete that gave him pause. I slammed the cab door and glanced up at the startled cabbie, an older black man with a full head of snow white hair.
“Three-twelve West Burnside, and there’s a hell of a tip in it for you if you get me there fast.”
“Yes ma’am.” He said promptly, glancing out at the businessman who was hustling back from the cab with wide, worried eyes.
Hmm. May have overdone the dirty look a bit, there. Hardly my fault, I was tired and stressed out. The timing of that murder-text was a touch on the suspicious side. If she’d noticed that her phone was gone, then this would be a fine way to lead me into a trap. But there was no way to know, and what the hell – I’d walked into traps before. It had always ended poorly for the other guys. The cab pulled away from the sidewalk, merging into traffic as I dialed Honey Cautiveria from memory. If anyone in the world could get a hold of Irish for me, it would be my favorite bartender. The phone rang in my ear while I chewed my lip.
My whole city was going to hell in a hand basket. I ran a hand over my hair – the pins were still in place, but the knot was falling apart. The shadow was sitting in my chest like cold iron, holding my ribs together, and also slithering through the dim interior of the cab inspecting the stains and crumbs on the floor, the taste of the carpet, the mild, spicy scent of the cabbie. She prodded him a bit, feeling him out for a quick meal, and I jerked her back. Her irritation prickled the fine hairs on the back of my neck. She was hungry, and doing a lot of work for me, and felt she was owed a morning snack. Okay, she’d just eaten last night, but most of that was being used to heal my injuries. I reminded her that the guy was driving, a concept she’d never bothered to really grasp. In return she tossed up images of Tanner and Cat, our new Inquisitor in town. She then added the glyph, and Gianna, and Irish. She wanted her strength up if she was taking all that on. She let my ribs twinge some, to underscore the point.
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Black Alice Update

Java Elemental — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 17:29:36 -0000

All the writing advice in the world tells you that first, you write your rough draft, and then you go back and revise. Pfft, we say. Besides, MrJames and I figure if we get the framework laid out properly, first, the rest of the stroy will flow that much more easily. So, we've spent a lot of the last couple of weeks poking at chapters One through Three, getting them the way we want. We've finally got three chapters we can live with (although, admittedly, I'm still dickering with One). Here they are:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three