The Other Place
(a semi-musical Steampunk Goth hybrid story)
Blog Eighteen: And Not Just Your Soul
Caedar-writing-artwork.com
#steampunk #gothic #storytelling
Lady Oolong shivers. She slips off her goggles and leaves them to hang around her neck. The goggles keep out the sight of those that have moved on. In the dim light she squeezes drops into each eye to blur out the vision of the living. And it’s unlikely their father is still alive. Not a belief she would say to her younger sister, Lady Steamsail.
Familiar figures wander the hall she now hurries down. Some are inside deep alcoves that line the stone walls. She sees the glowing faces of relatives, friends, and acquaintances staring at her between rusty bars.
Lady Oolong shivers. She slips off her goggles and leaves them to hang around her neck. The goggles keep out the sight of those that have moved on. In the dim light she squeezes drops into each eye to blur out the vision of the living. And it’s unlikely their father is still alive. Not a belief she would say to her younger sister, Lady Steamsail.
Familiar figures wander the hall she now hurries down. Some are inside deep alcoves that line the stone walls. She sees the glowing faces of relatives, friends, and acquaintances staring at her between rusty bars.
In a quiet voice, she sings:
Quite the place to be
When the owner of the castle,
Is your aunt
And she wants you,
Exactly where you are
But behind the bars
Behind the bars
Not so soon aunt
Not quite yet
I am not demised
Nor ready yet,
To live
In the Other Place
She jolts at the sound of a familiar voice.
“About time you got here.” Mr. Intrepid’s voice sounds, weaker, than she remembers it.
“Where is your ghost, father?” she manages to whisper while slipping out a tiny, blue, ceramic vial from her bosom.
“You know what I want,” she hears Mr. Intrepid say in a stronger sounding voice. “A hot bath, while I drink Guinness with one hand, and a cup of tea with the other.”
Lady Oolong slips on her goggles. “Oh, you’re all battered and chained against that wall. Well then, I’ll bring your whole being back to the Real Place, and not just your soul.”
“I’m feeling quite sanguine,” Lady Oolong says, as she wipes the blade of her cane, across a storm grey overcoat.
“The ancients will wake soonest,” Lady Steamsail says with a sigh. She gnaws on her lower lip as she wipes the blade of her Dragonrider knife on the sea green overcoat of the other vampire.
“Accept Abhilesh; he seems to have disappeared,” Lady Oolong observes. She takes out her pipe and lights it. Taking a puff, she turns to her sister. “Our Chief Shabuni did not look pleased as he sank through the floor.” Taking another puff she asks, “Do you think he’ll understand?”
“He’ll heal,” Lady Steamsail replies with a shrug. “Father gave you his cane, so you better get him.”
“I wonder if our real father is here,” Lady Oolong says with one more puff before she taps out the scented tobacco.
“Do we really want to know who that is?” Lady Steamsail asks, with an arched eyebrow.
“Hmm. Let’s always agree that Mr. Intrepid is our real father. In a spiritual way. Although he is vague and cryptic.” Lady Oolong kneels on the floor and blows the ashes of her pipe towards the ancients. “A few more moments of protection for us. You’ll get the explorer and oversized pup?”
“I will,” Lady Steamsail replies, thoughtfully. “But we need Chief Shabuni to get the ghost. A deal is a deal.”
“Does he know?”
“I think the friend in his chest knows, he can’t leave here, without the twin.”
“See you at mother’s, sister,” Lady Oolong says as she begins to dematerialize.
“If not, well met sister,” Lady Steamsail says in the direction her sister was.
Always looking for cosplayers who can do character modeling. Think of movie posters and book covers. Maybe, when Taylor and I revisit A Motley Sisterhood of Pirates! we’ll be able to add to the already amazing “character” models.
Blog Sixteen: Just a Bit of Your Albino Blood and Bone
Caedar-writing-artwork.com
“She looks so peaceful like that,” Lady Steamsail says as she and her sister stare down at their aunt, who’s sleeping peacefully against one of the hall’s walls.
“Just a few stabs under the ribs,” Lady Oolong says as she places the point of her cane sword against the wound in their aunt’s side. The dark red fluid on the blade immediately beads and rolls into the wound. “She’ll sleep for an hour or two.”
“Will be gone by then?” Lady Steamsail asks, as she toes their aunts hand mirror. “Is that a very faint outline of our very own Chief Shabuni?”
“Yes,” Lady Oolong replies. She picks up the mirror and holds it so both she and her sister can see its story. “Can you hear voices?”
“Faintly,” Lady Steamsail leans in closer. “Listen, those two vampires are talking about the gathering of the most powerful aristocrats of The Other Place.”
“That’s Baron von Athanasius holding a chain leash,” a vampire wearing a storm grey overcoat says.
“Attached to that barbed collar around the kneeling Hugstari,” says the other vampire, who wears a sea green overcoat. “Who is Athanasius talking to? The one with the broad shoulders and rectangular head with the immaculate beard and mustache?”
“That is Abhilesh, the original of the name.”
“Does he belong?”
“No,” the vampire in the storm grey overcoat says. “It’s believed, he can wander to and through any Place he desires. Do you hear breathing behind us?”
Lady Steamsail stares at her sister.
Lady Oolong smiles back. “Chief Shabuni will have to understand later. No twinkling earrings this time,” she continues as the emerald green in her earrings fade.
“We should become immaterial,” Lady Steamsail says as the glow from her own earrings fades. “I believe he’s directly below us.”
They rematerialize behind the nearly visible chief.
Lady Oolong stabs through Chief Shabuni’s trousers into his right calve until the tip pierces his bone. As he falls to his knees, Lady Steamsail stabs into his left calve.
As Lady Oolong steps towards the two turning vampires, Lady Steamsail wraps the Chief’s calves with handkerchiefs. “We need your albino blood and a tinge of bone,” she explains. Making sure the knots are tight first, she whispers in his left ear, “Wait for the ticking of the clock before you depart.”
I got close to having @_melgie (Melanie) to portray Roisin Moodlive in person but perhaps another time or for another character. This is her performing a beautiful rendition of the Weeknd’s Blinding Lights.
“Thank you for rowing us across,” Lady Steamsail says with an enchanting smile at the two, finely dressed, rowers.
“A pleasure, maladies,” both rowers reply in unison. While one balances the skiff, the other stands up and helps Lady Oolong and Lady Steamsail onto the dock before Castle Cumplit.
The two Ladies lean forward, and swim through the air towards the magical lyre strings, left by Chief Shabuni’s mysterious friend. The sound of the song is faint but remains.
Hurry a fading soprano, calls to them.
I know your mother sent him to succeed
I know you’re near enough to come
And
Save him
I know so much more
I know who you’re looking for
But
The danger is great here
The gathering of the powerful is here
Hurry!
Hurry, before they discover the magic
So deep inside his bones
They enter the hall, where their aunt is staring into an antique silver mirror. Her teeth are bared and she seems so–annoyed.
“Hello, Auntie Thelma,” Lady Oolong calls, as she unwinds the dragon head of her cane.
“We’re he to gather some individuals,” Lady Steamsail adds, flicking open her dragonrider knife.
Lady Oolong and Lady Steamsail find themselves on the opposite shore of Countess Mlde.
Lady Oolong lowers her head and unsheathes the rapier within her dragon headed cane. “It’s the original, you know” she says to her sister.
“It was always his prized possession,” Lady Steamsail says, as she stares around for a way to cross. The wind over the water makes swimming through the air difficult.
I’d like to think he’s still alright, Lady Oolong sings.
Breathing in an unsafe place
You know,
I don’t think he gave in
I don’t think they know I have it
Oh, sister, Lady Steamsail sings in reply.
He’s as stubborn as a tax collector
As tough as a billy goat
I think he’s still sane
Even after so many years
With a sniffle, Lady Oolong sheathes the rapier. “Do you see a boat we could procure.”
Lady Steamsail squints towards the lake. “Why, I think Chief Shabuni will be saved. There is a fine-looking skiff with two nervous rowers, just waiting our arrival.”
As he focuses on becoming immaterial, he hears footsteps enter the hall. Countess Thelma Mlde is no longer just an image. Her corporeal being is almost overwhelming in its confident presence. She’s only a few steps from him now. In her hand is the antique silver mirror. Anger makes her eyes an abyss of rage as she stares into it.
“Where is he?” she demands into the mirror.
Cautiously he crouches down as tingling sensations run from his fingers to his toes. His nose grows numb.
“Sink through the floor,” Roisin Moodlive encourages him, inside his head.
He feels his body become liquid and everything gets larger in the hall as he flows downward. Just as his eyes sink into the floor, he swears Countess Mlde stares directly at him. If he could, he would inhale deeply but there is no breath for him to intake.
He nearly becomes tangible as his body flows through the air of the room below. He stares down, into a large room, filled with strange humans. An overwhelming terror grasps a hold of his chest as he floats behind the two vampires, who brought him to the castle. But it’s not them that terrifies him. It’s the gathering they are staring at.
Staying ever so still, he listens in to what the vampires are saying.
With much thanks, as always, to Leah Weir for portraying Countess Thelma Mlde.
Lady Oolong is smoking her pipe outside the red door of Lady Iris’s mansion, talking to Lady Steamsail, when the sisters both stop to listen.
“Do you hear a siren’s voice melded with enchanting strings of a lyre, dear sister?” Lady Steamsail asks.
Lady Oolong takes a puff of her pipe. “Why, yes, I do. It seems we’re being beckoned to Countess Mlde’s castle but not by the countess.”
“Isn’t that where our stepfather, Mr. Intrepid is believed to be?” Lady Steamsail asks. “And the spirit of The Inventor’s twin?”
“Why yes,” Lady Oolong replies. “It’s also believed that Mr. Siku Claws and Ulysses are there as well.”
“I sense the music is from Roisin Moodlive,” Lady Steamsail says, staring thoughtfully into the direction of Countess Mlde’s castle. “And there was a sense of Chief Shabuni, but no more.”
Lady Oolong takes a puff. “Why is Chief Shabuni there when he should be here?”
“Twist of fate,” Lady Steamsail replies. “I wonder if The Inventor and Mr. Clockwind have finished the clock?”
“Not to worry sister, fate has intervened,” Lady Oolong says with a final inhale. The herb mixed with the tobacco in her pipe helps clear her mind. “We were supposed to wait here, but now we need to put on our goggles and turn phantasmal.”
“To Castle Cumplit,” Lady Steamsail says with relish.
“We need to get out of this room,” Roisin Moodlive’s soprano voice sings up to him, “Countess Milde has company.” He sees her grab a cane seat chair.
He follows as she tugs him into a hall with Corinthian moldings at the base of an archway. Just beyond the archway are doors on opposite sides of the hall. Moodlive places the head of the chair under the doorknob of the room they just left.
He turns and looks down at her. “Why me?” he asks.
Others are here, she sings
Powerful entities inside
Inside corporeal bodies
Oh, Dimoso they’ve brought you here
For your magic
“I’ve never done anything magical until I came here.” He can hear the frustration in his own voice. “And everyone here seems to have the same abilities as I do.”
The magic is in your bones
Innate and meant to be
A part of Mother Earth
Not meant for humans to use, Dimoso
“Those rowers better have not lied to us,” the distant voice of the vampire with the storm grey overcoat says from the room they just departed.
“You need to escape,” Moodlive says, her voice full of urgency.
He pulls out the jar and note from his pocket, and passes the jar to her.
The note says in Lady Elsewhere’s handwriting: Don’t take off the key. He grimaces, realizing he had already made that mistake. The ointment is to make you more invisible, if necessary.
“Can you feel him?” he hears the vampire in the sea green overcoat asks in a desperate tone.
“No, and even invisible he’s so big it would be impossible to miss him,” replies the vampire in the grey storm overcoat. “Let’s move on.”
He can hear the door rattling and the cane chair rocking as the vampires try to open the door.
“We need to cover you in this ointment, clothes and all,” Moodlive tells him in a hushed tone as she starts rubbing ointment onto his shoes. She scoops out a glob and says, “Here,” and passes him the jar. “Cover your hat and googles. I’ll start on the back of your trench coat.
“What then?” he asks, as the banging on the door gets more violent.
“Done,” Moodlive says. “They’re not powerful. They won’t be able to sense you now that you’re completely invisible. Lean against a wall until they finish searching the room.”
“What will you do?”
“Listen Ladies Oolong and Steamship,” he hears her sing as she brushes the strings of her lyre.
Countess Milde has called a meeting
A meeting with the hierarchy
We head to the dungeon
Where Dimoso will find what he came for
But help is needed
If we’re to succeed
At the end of the song, he sees her hands reach up to his chest. She turns into yellow mist and flows into him; lyre and all. Inside his head, he hears her voice tell him, “Focus on becoming immaterial.”
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