Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ivory Tower ❯ Ivory Tower 8/? ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Ivory Tower 8/?

Author: Quirk othe Trade

Category: Fanfiction

Genre: AU, Romance

Rating: 11+, 14+ rating, I think, P or T for MM.rg

C&CC: quirkothetrade@yahoo.com Feedback is always appreciated. ^_^

Archive: wufeiduo.net(when the redesign is finished), makotosagara.net, under the couch, mediaminer.org

Disclaimer: I own none of this except the Orignal Character and the idea.

Warnings: No warnings that I can think of

A/N: Sorry for the wait!

Beta: Makoto Sagara Sama! yay!

Synopsis: Duo sees WuFei again, a brief check-in on Trowa, Hephaestus completes the whip, ‘Pain of Death’, and Magda makes a visit to Pluto's domain.
+++

Duo bypassed the silent forest for the gardens, setting down on his feet near the foot of the one thousand and one steps. Straightening, he drew in a deep breath as he fought off a case of nerves. His heart was steadily increasing, and his mouth felt dry. (This isn't the time for this. Don’t be nervous!) Scowling at himself, he lifted a hand, palm up. "Can someone please carry a message somewhere?"

A construct in the form of a fairy shimmered out of the air, landing daintily on his palm. Its little head cocked to the side, and he smiled at it. “Please tell WuFei Duo is here to see her.”

It fluttered its tiny wings and blinked, a sign it didn’t quite understand.

(Great, I must have gotten a defective construct or something.) It happened in every bunch made, usually the first or last one. Duo kept his smile in place. “Tell WuFei Duo is here.”

It nodded and took off in a flutter and a flash. Turning away, he moved to sit on a bench. Doing so for a moment reminded him of why he didn’t like it at Dorothy’s. Everything was too still; there was no breeze, insects, or noise whatsoever. He wondered if it bothered the endless rows of oxblood roses, if it was why they didn’t turn out a more pure red color. Maybe it didn’t, maybe they were simply there, not real roses but imaginary ones that mimicked being alive.

“Duo?”

Looking up and back over his shoulder, Duo smiled. WuFei was descending the stairs, just past the last curve of the tower. Still clad in white, face bare of a veil, Fate’s new apprentice looked like an angel, black slippered feet descending the stairs gracefully one at a time. Feeling emotion rise up to clog his throat, the braided man stood and swallowed. “Hi.”

WuFei smiled, a real smile, even if it was a little small. Duo felt a bit dazzled as the other paused a few steps up. “Would you like to come in? We have refreshments…”

“I would go anywhere with you.”

The soft tone and the worshipful look that entered the other’s violet eyes made WuFei stare for a moment. Duo was looking at him as if he were something precious. It was different than the raven haired man had ever been looked at before. “Come in, then.”

Duo moved toward WuFei with a smile. “How did you get down here so fast?”

“I--- hurried.” Waiting for the black clad man to come abreast with him, they started up the stairs.

“Want to make it a race back up?” Duo kept half his attention on WuFei as he climbed.

“Huh?”

“Better yet, give me your hand.” Duo grabbed his hand even as a questioning sound passed the other’s lips. The world tilted sideways for a moment, and WuFei clenched the hand in his with uncertainty. Then the world righted itself, and they were standing at the top of the stairs.

“We’re… how did you do that? You DID do that, right?”

“Yeah. It’s easy; just think of where you want to be in your mind really clearly, and then will yourself there. Just make sure there’s enough room, otherwise there’ll be trouble, you know?” Duo purposely didn’t release the hand he held.

“You’ll have to teach me how.” Glancing down at their hands, WuFei left his hand were it was and opened the aged, heavy oaken door with the other. “I’ve been studying in the ball room. Mistress--- Dorothy--- wants me to be up on as much as possible.”

“Why the ballroom?” (I didn’t know there was a ballroom…)

“Because it’s an open floor. The view is… somewhat soothing to me.” Leading the way through, they came to the gazing room and upon Dorothy, who lounged on her mound of cushions and pillows. “Mi--- Dorothy, may I present to you my friend, Duo…”

“We’ve met.” The blonde smiled. “Long time, no see, if I may say so, Duo. How is your mistress?”

“Fine enough, thank you.” Suppressing a few twitches at the sight of Dorothy’s branched brows, he responded with a smile.

She smirked. “Are you sure? She hasn’t shown any signs of tears lately, has she?”

Duo stiffened, amethyst eyes frosting over. “I believe that’s out of line, Dorothy, even for you.”

“Come now, Duo. Children were meant to be cried over.” She shifted, reclining back a tad more. “Have you ever wondered, Duo, what would happen if Magda were suddenly… indisposed?”

“That is also out of line.”

(What’s going on? I thought Dorothy liked Duo and his mistress?) Onyx eyes darted from one to the other. His mistress looked almost indifferent, except for a tightening between her brows. Duo was visibly tense, shoulders hunched and frowning, announcing without words she was pressing on his nerves.

“One more ‘out of line’ thing, then, dearest Duo. Would you give up your master for your mother, whatever that might mean?” Light, lacy lashes hid limpid blue eyes, and turning her head to the side, she brushed the surface of the gazing mirror with the claw tips of the beaten silver nail guards adorning her fingers. “What is more important to you, your past or your future?”

Hand tightening around WuFei’s unconsciously, Duo realized that Fate was trying to warn him of something, but what? Why couldn’t she just speak plainly? “My future. I can’t change my past, but I can change my future.”

She smiled. Not a smirk, but a full smile. (I’m satisfied. At least he means well.) “WuFei, please take your playmate and go play now.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Tugging on the other’s hand, he pulled Duo along behind him past the heaped cushions. They followed the stairs that wound down to the next level, enclosed on the open side by wrought iron steel, passed through what looked like a sitting room, then more sitting rooms until at about the tenth floor. The stairs came out even with a stone section, but beyond that, in between each section, there was no wall. Four glassless sections opened out onto nothing but clouds and sky, soft winds blowing through the space. Gazing about, he saw where the iron railing began again on the far side, leading down to the next level, and at the edge of one of the open spaces were two cushions, and a small stack of books.

“You were sitting over there?”

“Ah.” Finally releasing his hand, WuFei led the way over to his little nest. Duo settled on the floor at the edge before he could offer one of the cushions, long legs dangling over the edge. The newly appointed apprentice decided to offer anyway. “Would you like a cushion?”

“No thanks.” Duo glanced up at him, eyes dancing. “This is pretty cool.”

Leaning the top cushion back against the cool stone, the onyx eyed man settled on the bottom one, slouching just the smallest bit, one leg moving to dangle over the edge while the other was drawn up. “The view is different, and the cool air is refreshing. Do you want something to drink, or eat?”

“No, I’m fine. I just want to be with you.” The apprentice of Death smiled, still looking at him

“Ah…” A soft blush stained pale gold cheeks. WuFei’s heart kicked painfully in his chest. (Is he aware of how that sounds? Because he can’t possibly mean it like that.)

“Um… I know this is forward, and moving too fast, and you don’t know me and all that stuff… but I really, really like you.” Leaning on one hand, Duo bent until his face was even with WuFei’s, amethyst eyes sincere and wide. His shoulder was even with a white clad knee, and he planted the other pale hand in the little free space by the other man’s hip. Words seemed to escape him for a moment as he gazed into dark eyes, and he breathed his name with unnamed emotion. “WuFei…”

Said man’s heart began to speed up, and dark eyes blinked. “Duo?”

“Have you ever felt… an instant attraction to someone? It doesn’t make any sense, but you feel compelled… like… maybe this one person was what you were waiting for all your life?” Two sets of lips drew closer and closer, like a head-on collision one just knew was going to happen. “That’s how I feel… about you.”

(He DOES mean it like---!!)

Mouths met in the sweetest kiss, lips meshing perfectly, and then sweetness melted away. A tongue traced the fullness of a bottom lip, and a mouth opened, heat slowly building as that tongue slipped inside, explored and slid against another tongue. Two bodies moved closer to one another, one pressing down against the other. Then the kiss broke reluctantly, reverently, and amethyst and onyx eyes were dreamy as mouths parted for the shortest possible distance.

“You’re a man.” It was spoken dreamily, dazedly, petal pink lips against honey blushed lips, lower bodies still pressed together. His chestnut head tilted to the side a bit, and his lips made to reinitiate contact. “Ah.”

Dark eyes widened, and WuFei flushed, though it had nothing to do with amorous feelings. There was the briefest touch against his lips, and he smacked his hands into broad shoulders and shoved. “Wait a minute! You thought I was a girl!?”

Duo yelped and caught himself with one hand before he could fall backwards. “Well, I wasn’t sure. It doesn’t matter, anyways. It doesn’t change the way I feel. I love you.”

WuFei glared as he sat up. “You thought I was a woman!!”

“Because you’re so damned gorgeous! What man is as gorgeous as you!?” Duo yelled back.

“Have you looked in a mirror!?”

“You think I’m gorgeous?”

He drew breath to yell, and then realized the question didn’t merit it. The other man was looking at him curiously, eyes wide, and a naked, vulnerable expression on his face. “Yes.”

“…wow.”

“IR 17;m not a woman.”

“No, you’re not.” Duo smiled and held out a hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Duo Maxwell. I was born… a hell of a long time ago, male, and would have died at the age of twenty- three if my mistress Magda Therese hadn’t decided to make me her apprentice.”

Taking the hand, he returned the smile. “I’m Chang WuFei, born twenty-six years ago. Male. All I know is that somehow I ended up with my mistress.”

An eyebrow arched. “That’s okay. That’s kind of like me, too, actually.” (Where have I heard that name…? Chang WuFei…)

“Oh? How”

“Well… I was mugged. I was on my way home with dinner from my favorite restaurant, and I was taking a short cut I’d taken before on worse nights. The man was acting weird. I think he’d have tried to kill me even if I hadn’t fought back. I took a knife to the stomach. The last thing I remember most clearly is how much it hurt. Then I woke up in the Hidden Palace with my head in Magda’s lap. Now that was scary.”

“You don’t remember the details of how your mistress found you? She didn’t tell you?”

//Blood was slipping through his fingers, and he could feel his insides trying to spill out. It reminded him of an old documentary he’d seen with an odd image of a shark tossing its stomach inside out. A scream was echoing in his ears, but it wasn’t his, and there was a hand sprawled on the outside of his fading vision. A booted foot stepped in front of him, then pivoted toward him, and a set of black clad knees and an oddly familiar hand came into view just before his vision finally blacked out …//

“Well, I was kinda dying at the time, so I’m not sure. She says she just decided to keep me.” He chuckled and laid back against the cool stone. WuFei allowed himself to slump back against his cushions. “I remember I opened my eyes when I woke up again and looked up, and she had this pinched look on her face. I had never seen her before; she was a total stranger. I flipped out and tried to sit up, and slid off the bed because she’d been crying. See, Magda, when she cries--- her tears turn into diamonds. The bed was covered in them, and I slid the opposite of the way she was sitting when I jumped up. I grabbed for the bedclothes, but it didn’t work and I fell off the bed. It made quite a racket. She yelled and looked at me over the edge of the bed, and then she started laughing and said I looked like someone had goosed me on the ass.”

“Her tears become diamonds? Do the other Archetypes have the same characteristic?”

“Apparently some do. I was talking with Hephaestus, and he said Dice spills blue diamonds.”

“Ah.” (Hephaestus--- Greek, a god of fire and metalworking.) WuFei looked down at his hands, curled against his abdomen. “I wonder how that works.”

“I couldn’t tell you.” He looked sideways at him. “What about you? Do you remember how Doro got you?”

// He couldn’t stop coughing as he handed the unconscious woman off to the man on the ladder, who started to instruct him to get on. There was a loud creaking, though, and the already unstable floor began to collapse inward. There was a shout from the firefighter, who tried to grab his hand, but he wasn’t fast enough. He slid backwards, and then plummeted through flames to the next floor. Burning debris fell around him as he landed awkwardly on his hands and knees, and the building was groaning loudly in his ears. Then, his coughing grew worse. He couldn’t see anything for the smoke and his eyes tearing up. Lying as close to the floor as possible, with the sleeve of his cheongsam over his mouth and nose, he closed his streaming eyes as he listened to the shouting outside under the creaking of the building. Then, everything just faded away…//


“No. The last thing I remember was listening to the fire and rescue outside. Then, I just kind of drifted away. When next I woke, I was in a suspension tube, here in the Tower. Dorothy was there, and she said I was burned from the fire. It felt like I was drugged the entire time I was in that stupid glass test tube.”

“Did Dorothy give you the liquid light?”

“Ah--- if you mean that blood transfer thing, yes. We’re not done, though. Apparently my body isn’t responding well. Did you have any difficulties in your--- exchange?”

“I don’t know. Magda said she did the whole thing while I was unconscious. Something about blood loss, which makes sense. I was gutted with a knife. So you died in a fire? That sucks.” He looked past his elbow and blanched at the sight of WuFei’s wide eyes. He sat up hurriedly and waved his hands. “Sorry if I seem laid-back about the whole thing. It’s just that inevitable death is how most of us have ended up as apprentices. And, I’m the apprentice of Death, so…”

“Ah.” Swallowing, WuFei drew his legs up in an unconscious gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by Duo. “Yes, I died in a fire. I was trying to rescue my friend.”

“That was brave of you.” He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. (I guess it’s a touchy subject, though I can’t blame him.) “So what did you do while you were mortal? A model?”

“No… I was a courtesan.” He watched amethyst widen in surprise.

“Now I remember where I’ve heard your name! You’re, like, famous. Your death was a mystery because your body was never found. It’s assumed that it burned completely in some house fire. Holy cow.” Duo crossed his arms and frowned down at his knees. “Now I feel like a fool. I bet you’re used to people throwing themselves at your feet and declaring their love for you, huh?”

“Actually, I’m not. They usually just booked an appointment.” Disbelieving amethyst met apprehensive onyx. “Truth. Most were very good to me, and I learned valuable information from others. Some I would go so far as to call friend. But none have ever done what you’ve done. How do I put… you--- you look at me like I might mean something. Me, not my position or what I can do for you. Not even my friends looked at me that way. Not even her.”

“Her who?”

He looked away from Duo. “…Let’s change the subject, please.”

“As long as I don’t have a rival for your affections, okay.” Duo winked at him when the raven haired man looked back at him. “ You’re mine, okay?“

”You can’t be serious about that?”

“Of course. I’m not a liar. I found a gift for your ball that’s very important to me. It’s a scroll, a poem I think, from my mom to my dad. I don’t know how my mistress came across it; I was orphaned when I was three.” Duo sat up and wiped away everything but seriousness from his expression, though he was unable to do anything about the blush beginning to flood his face. “And it’s not just a ball gift. It’s… it’s a courting gift.”

“Courting gift? … I…” Onyx eyes were wide with disbelief as he stared at Duo. The breeze played with his over shirt, playing peek-a-boo and flashing the creamy skin of his shoulders. Chestnut strands danced around his face. (I didn’t think he was serious, just a nice guy flirting or something… and… I prefer it when he’s smiling… he looks so serious… too serious...)

“I meant it. I think I love you.”
+++

Trowa blinked his way through a headache induced by alcohol and its accompanying symptoms. Sitting up carefully, he realized he had passed out on the patio. (Damn… I think I hit a new record for mixed drinks… Why can’t he ever let me off the hook and go somewhere else?)

“Are you awake, Trowa? ‘Bout time. Let’s go to IHOP (1), I’m in the mood for pancakes.”

Tilting his head back, he shoved a hand through his long bangs, leaving them a sticky mess standing upright. (I must have fallen asleep in the middle of a spilled drink or something…) Squinting, he made out the stocky bulk of Bacchus, seated atop the picnic table. The man looked ridiculously, enviously sober after the long night plus of straight drinking. “Sir, I don’t feel too good…”

“Hung over, huh? Ah, well, these things happen.”

(Almost every time in the last thousand years it’s been your fault!) He covered a pained wince and his eyes with a hand.

“Go get cleaned up, my boy. Pancakes will heal what ails you.”

Trowa scrambled to the edge of the patio and wretched. The thought of food did not sit well with him at the moment. His stomach didn’t stop until it was good and ready, his skin was clammy and damp with sweat, and his temples ached fiercely in time with his heartbeat. There were footsteps behind him, and a coarse, cool damp cloth was pressed against his face.

“Okay, maybe you don’t need pancakes but a good lay down, aspirin and a few tons of water, boyo.” Strong arms scooped him up. “Next time, we’ll make all your drinks virgin. Your ladies will be mad if they find out I got you ill, on purpose or not.”

“I don’t mind drinking with you, Lord Dionysus, but do you have to drink so much?” Trowa asked weakly. Even being carried was making him nauseous. It was all that swaying back and forth.

“I’m the lord of wine and revelry, it’s what I do. Besides, I miss her. Haven’t you ever heard of drowning your sorrows?”

“Her?”

“Ariadne.”

(His human wife….) “I’m sorry, Lord.” They stopped, and the soft swoosh of wind against water told him they were in the bath. Made of limestone and marble, most of it was decorated with friezes depicting water nymphs playing in streams. It had been remodeled in one corner at some point pre-Trowa so that there were modern showers besides the bathing pools.

“Nothing to be sorry for. She was gloriously human. Even in her old age, she was a sight to behold. That man was a fool to have left her on the beach that day, and I was lucky to have found her. The cool pool, I think, little Trowa. The heat will just make you sicker.” Bacchus set him down on cool marble, and he opened his eyes blurrily as the other man began removing his clothes. “I’m stripping you down to your tighty whiteys. Then I’m sitting you in the pool.”

Trowa made an accepting sound. Before long, he was stripped down to his boxers and sitting in the pool. The cool water felt good once he got used to it, and he sank down in the carved seat until the water tickled his earlobes and threatened to run up his nose.

“Don’t fall in. Here, drink this.” A plastic cup was dangled before him, and he sat up just a bit and took it. “Orange juice. Drink up, Next, you’re drinking water.”

He drank it slowly, fearing his stomach would reject it. It stayed down, if hesitantly, and he handed the cup back for it to be refilled. “Thank you.”

“Ah. So, do you know what you’re doing for the upcoming ball?”

“No. I haven’t been asked to perform yet, so I don’t know if I need to be doing anything besides attending my mistresses.”

“Oh, they’ll come asking. You’re Trowa, apprentice of the nine muses. To have you participate is a great honor, and to NOT have you, unthinkable.” He filled the cup from one of two pitchers he had brought with the cup.

“You’re too kind,” Trowa said dryly, and accepted the next cup. (Okay, being babied through a hangover by Bacchus may be worse than drinking with him…)
+++

The candlelight flickered against the bedroom walls as he worked quietly beside his sleeping wife. Normally, Hephaestus didn’t take his work with him to bed, but he had two desires: to watch over his wife while she slept, and to finish the diamond whip, Pain of Death. So, he had crept out of bed without the aid of his leg braces, gathered the materials, and crept back in. Candles would do for illumination, since anything brighter would wake the blonde beauty.

One by one, he cut the diamonds into shape and painstakingly attached them one by one to the nine strands of the floret at the end of the whip with his energy and a specially treated wire of his own invention and design. The floret was the only thing left needing completion. Most of the work was already done from previous years long past; the only thing that had stopped it was the lack of more tears. The Master Smith finished one strand at a time of the nine, ending each with one medium to large sized diamond until at last it sat finished in his lap, and he was collecting everything up--- stray bits of wire, diamond chips, tools and their containers.

Leaning over, he kissed Choris on the cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry, my precious wife. I know you wish this weapon unfinished. But what hope does humankind have of fulfilling their covenants with the Two Made One (2) if there is no trial for them to prove themselves on?”

A large, hard hand smoothed gold silk, and then he rose from his marriage bed, creeping from the room as well as his lame legs could without their braces. He made his way back to his workroom and set everything aside on a table. Easing down on a handy bench, he rested a moment, rubbing at his ruined legs that ached worse than they usually did when he walked. The room was shadowy with the sun spell dimmed; the fires ruled the room with red and orange light even banked. Closing his eyes, he felt for the barrier of energy in the walls of the cavern, and sealed it shut with his thoughts. The next step was to temper the weapon with energy, to name it and instruct it in its purpose. For that, he needed no interruptions and a secure area to work.

Thinking of the layout of the room, he rose, retrieved the weapon and limped to the corner with the open barrels of water. Once there, he leaned for a moment and allowed himself a grimace and a thankful thought that there was no one to witness him in his weakness before he straightened as best he could. Grounding his energy in the earth through his legs and feet, and in the Universe through the crown of his head, he began drawing the two energies into his body, allowing it mingle with his own before he channeled into the whip he cradled in his hands. He channeled enough energy into it to run a house, realized it wasn’t enough, and drew even more energy in until it glowed in his hands, until it was should have been molten and it STILL wasn’t enough.

(Damn it, what will it take to temper this thing?) He hissed to himself, eyes slitted against the glow. (Magda does not possess the capacity to hold a soul. She gave that up for Duo’s sake. Yet a soul is the only thing that could possibly be the reason for my inability to fill the whip with enough energy to temper it for use.)

(I need more energy, more strength. Unmoved Mover (3), She Who Hears All (4), open me up. Make me a vessel.)

Energy flowed into him in a trickle until it flooded through him, until it roared in his ears and he felt lighter than air, seeing nothing but a silvery white light. Time lost its meaning, and he felt very far away from where he was supposed to be, as though observing from somewhere else. Then the energy began to slow, and as it receded, he gradually came back to his body, and it felt odd to be there, and he couldn’t see because the whip had finally become fully molten in his hands. It glowed like a sun as it rested, awaiting the words that would tell it what it was, what it could do, what its limit was.

He took a breath before speaking aloud in his gravelly voice, eyes slit against the glare. “You who are forged of Death’s tears, you will use sorrow to defeat sorrow, for sorrow is what brought you forth from Death. You are limitless; nothing shall stop you, and you shall make your wielder limitless. None shall stand before you. Be terrifying, but be merciful, you who was over thousands of years in the making, you who are represented by nine for those periods of death and pregnancy between lives, by one for infinity, you who are ‘Pain of Death’. By the Two Made One, so be it.”

It glowed brighter, if that was possible, and he quickly thrust it into the barrel of water and released it. The water boiled and rolled, steaming, and did hardly anything to dim the light the whip emitted. He leaned against the sturdy wood and winced; his hands were burned. But all his strength had fled, and it was either lean or collapse on the floor, which would be hard to get up from with his legs.

(I’ll rest until I feel well enough to return to bed. It maybe a while before ‘Pain of Death’ will be ready to come out of there. But… It’s finished.) Pride in a job finished flooded through him. But then, he thought of all the power it had taken to temper the weapon, and what that meant. (Has Magda earned another chance at a soul? Or is it because so many of the tears used in the whip’s construction are from before Duo’s birth?)
+++

Magda Therese glared at nothing as she walked beside Pluto in the catacombs deep beneath the manor. The air was thick with specters, and it felt like walking through a heavy mist or fog that left the skin chilly. “WHY does Morpheus live down here again? Can’t he get a castle of his own somewhere? Or even a nice condo in Hawaii or Miami or something.”

“The Gates can’t be moved. You know that.”

“I know. But it’s always damned nippy down here.”

“You’ll be fine.” He glanced down at his would-be daughter. “How is Duo, by the way?”

“Fine. He’s fallen in love with Doro’s new apprentice.”

“What?”

“Not quite what I said. I’ll go talk to Doro after I leave here. I don’t want any complications.”

“So why are you here?”

“Amy is his mother. She deserves to know what’s going on.”

“She doesn’t know she’s his mother. She’s in a state of dreaming.”

“She still gave birth to him. He is her son, no matter what happens. And it’s not like I’ll tell her outright. I know better. If the dream breaks, she might break, too. I won’t ever allow that to happen.” The fog of spirits was fading away, she noted, pleased.

It had almost dissipated completely when they entered the cave of dreams. A moon hung in the perpetual night sky, illuminating the room with its chilly light without benefit of the stars. The gates of horn and ivory stood side by side, shining in the light. Between them were two figures, one on a hammock strung up high, and the other on a cushion covered rug on the ground. Squinting, she asked, “Have we ever seen Hypnos or Morpheus actually awake?”

“Only in dreams.” He watched as she surrounded herself with a sparkling glow from head to toe. As it faded away, it revealed her change in garb, having exchanged the black dress and platforms for a short sleeved, white kimono and coordinating foot wear. White embroidered cherry blossoms dulled the pale shiny satin, and the contrasting textures of the cloth of the obi kept the entire ensemble from being boring. Her hair was piled on her head, an elaborate carved bone hair stick tethering it. “I’ll wait here.”

“Every time we’re here you say that; I don’t care what you do, just don’t interrupt me.” Ignoring his snort, she strode toward the gate of ivory, the gate known for giving false dreams.
+++

(1) Some of my friends like to visit the International House of Pancakes after clubbing or when something’s happened, like a major event or party. I wonder if it really is a Texas thing?

The following terms are ones I use personally as a Pagan/Wiccan. I don’t know if anyone else uses them, too.

(2)Two Made One- a term or title for God and Goddess demonstrating their connection.

(3) Unmoved Mover- a term or title for the God.

(4) She Who Hears All- a term or title for the Goddess, based off of the title of Kwan Yin, “She Who Hears the Cries of the World”.