Nothing is True. Everything is Connected.
Tag: <span>Sylum Teaser</span>

Sylum Teaser: The Russian Spy

This is still set to come out during 7 Days – *crosses finger RL cooperates*

***

“So what’s the plan?”  Shep asked as he glanced at Brass.

“There is only one way to deal with an unruly Pirate Captain.”  Brass looked around the precinct, noticing that it was mostly cleared out.  

He glanced back at Shep, who gave him a wicked smirk.

“I’m not stupid, not matter what most think of me.” He motioned upwards where the higher ranking members of the NOPD lived. “I had Captain Dent clear out the floor for a departmental meeting.  This way, we won’t be conspicuous when dragging him out of his office, down the hall, out the door, and stuffing him into the trunk.”

“I was going to let him ride in the backseat, but trunk works.”

And without hesitation, Brass stalked across the room and kicked the door open. “Hi Honey.”

Story now in the Archive

Sylum Teaser: The Russian Spy

During Nicolaus Meridius Weekend, we posted the first part of the 3rd part of the Westen Series which is a major turning point in Sylum.

The full story will be released for 7 Days … pending RL batshittery of epic.

But because I’m a kind hearted soul *coughs* evil general.

A tiny tiny teaser.


This was a day of reckoning.

One he never thought would come.

And once again.

Nico’s enemies underestimated the quiet unassuming Roman.

Mistook kindness for gullibility.

Compassion for softness.

Mercy for weakness.

He was dragged once again upwards, to look his killer in the eyes.  He had no voice left to scream, when he felt the blade slam upwards into his chest, barely inches from his heart.

Story now on the Archive

Sylum Teaser: The Russian Spy

Author’s Note: You must have read The Spy Among Us and Aiden Pearce to understand what is going on in this story.

2nd Author’s Note: Switches between Westen’s POV and 3rd Person POV

Sylum Timeline: October 2012 AD

Read more“Sylum Teaser: The Russian Spy”

Sylum Advent 2017: December 29th

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***

Title: Waiting For Me To Catch Up
Characters/Pairings: Jeremiah Parks/Ray Kowalski; Benoit Franciscus; Ray Vecchio; Peter Parker; Original Characters; Members of Tallikut Clan
Rating: PG
Summary: When Jeremiah Parks returned to the city of his birth, his life was in such turmoil that he failed to realize the most important thing in the middle of all the chaos. Now he has to learn to open his life to someone new.


~ Chicago, Illinois, February 2005 ~

Sitting with his chin resting on his fist, Jeremiah Parks watched the snow beginning to accumulate on the branches outside his office window. An email from his Operations Manager containing the year end numbers on his clubs had put him in a contemplative mood. The numbers were remarkable considering he’d bought and remodeled one property, and sold one. If the next six months continued the same way, it might be time to think about the best city for this year’s club. He was sure something would drop him a clue.

Reaching for his coffee cup, the light flashed off the diamonds and sapphires embedded in the wide platinum band on his left hand. A soft smile lightened his mood thinking about all that happened in the past seven years, including a trip to Massachusetts two weeks ago. He’d have to talk with his Mate about where he wanted to take a honeymoon trip, or maybe he should make the trip a surprise.

Speaking of his Mate … Taking a look at his watch, Jeremy transferred his files to his tablet, and put everything else he needed in his case. Stopping by his PA’s desk, he told Rory he’d be working from home after he finished his appointments. First stop was the Clan’s estate where he sat down with Peter to go over the wedding and reception pictures they wanted to order. He also went over some information he’d picked up at the club, and informed the Lead Hunter his next stop was the FBI to meet with the Clan’s Head of Security.

Leaving Peter to his work, Jeremy was headed to the front door when Benoit stepped out of his office. The Clan Leader was also dealing with the aftermath of Victoria Metcalf’s latest foray into their lives. Ray Vecchio had found out about Vampires. Jeremy suspected Vecchio would soon be joining the ranks of the Clan, and wondered at what his reaction would be when he found out he was Benoit’s Mate.

“Jeremiah, how are things going?”

Benoit and Diefenbaker came out the office. Jeremy bent down to greet the half-wolf.

“Good. I just dropped off some information to Peter from my contacts, and ordered wedding pictures. I am on my way to see James and Eliot then headed home. I want to take Ray on a trip sometime in March … Sort of honeymoon/scouting trip for a new haven location.”

“Let Bob or Carolyn know when, and if the jet is available, you are welcome to its use.” Benoit offered.

“I appreciate that. The thought of Ray in an airplane full of people for an extended period of time is a scary thought, and that’s if we’re in first class.”

That drew a laugh from Benoit remembering Ray constantly moving, even when they were engaged in a stakeout. “I have a few hours, I believe I will go see Peter about your information.”

“How’s things going with your Ray?”

Said Ray popped out from behind Benoit. “I’m going to be Turned, or someone’s going to get a smack.” Vecchio growled.

“Congratulations?” Jeremy gave Benoit a questioning look.

A small negative shake of the head indicate the Clan Leader had not told Ray about being Mates.

“Ray will be pleased to have a new Clan brother.”

“Stanley will be … Oh crap, I’m the baby of the Clan.” Grumbling to himself, Ray headed for the kitchen.

“He’s going to realize after he is Turned, especially if you are his Sire.” Benoit ducked his head. “Oh, Benoit.” Jeremy lamented.

“There’s his family and background to consider.”

“He is not the first Italian Catholic to be Turned, or to have a male Mate.”

“I know that.” Benoit hissed. “What if he says, ‘No’?”

“What if he says, ‘Yes’? I missed out on six years my Mate because of willful blindness. Do not give up this gift because of your insecurities. Do not let Victoria win.”

“Once he is settled …”

Shaking his head, Jeremy turned to leave. “You’re definitely going to get that smack.”

“Give my regards to Ray.”

“Might want to use the penthouse … More privacy.” Jeremy chuckled as he waved over his shoulder.

“More privacy for what?” Ray asked as he came from the kitchen with a sandwich and cup of coffee.

Diefenbaker added his thoughts on the matter. “Not you, too.” Benoit huffed in exasperation before turning his attention to his partner.

~~}~~

As he drove away from the diner near the FBI offices, Jeremy thoughts turned back to his Mate, and how he’d almost let something so precious slip through his fingers.

When his Sire, Victoria Metcalf, had kidnapped Detective Stanley Ray Kowalski, and showed up in Jeremy’s living room trying to find Benoit, he’d felt drawn the to the blond man. Suppressing his emotions in order to deal with Victoria’s insanity, and to keep anyone from dying, he didn’t realize what Ray was to him.

After Victoria was once again on the run, Kowalski had come to him for the job as General Manager of his Chicago club because he was tired of living undercover in his own life. Though they had become close friends in a short period of time, Jeremy was still dealing with his own traumas related to Chicago, so he’d returned to his home in New York City.

For the next six years, he’d only seen Ray once or twice a year, though they talked often on the phone. Because Ray was such a great manger, Jeremy only stayed in Chicago long enough to pat him on the back for a job well done because Javier was calling about case that needed his expertise.

Jeremy turned his thoughts back to his driving when traffic finally started to move. The snow was beginning to accumulate on the roads, trying the patience of Chicago rush hour drivers. Finally pulling into the garage next to the GTO, he shook off the show off his coat and boots before heading up the back stairs to the apartment that covered the third floor of the historic firehouse. Halfway up the steps, his sensitive nose picked up the smells of fresh bread, and a mouthwatering blend that meant his Mate had been busy this afternoon. In the time it took him to divest himself of his boots and heavy coat, his beloved had danced over the rugs, and slid across the wooden floor in sock feet to catch Jeremy around the neck for a kiss that thoroughly explored the inside of his mouth.

“I gave our information to Peter, Malone, and Ness. Now, I am going to put on something warm and comfy, until I need to go down to the club.”

“I could keep you warm and comfy.”

Pulling Ray in for another kiss that momentarily distracted the cook. Jeremy left the distracted blond standing in the kitchen as he darted around the corner to the master suite.

“Not buddies!” Was shouted down the hall after him.

~~}~~

Jeremy spent most of his hours at the club moving between the underage side of the club, and the adult side. Each side had an area set aside where the psychologist could talk privately with anyone who sought him out. It also gave him an opportunity to observe the employees for problems, or perhaps someone needed recognition for outstanding work. No one paid a lot of attention to a watcher in the shadows, giving Jeremy an opportunity to watch for predators that might need dealt with. None of Jeremy’s people had tolerance for anyone who preyed on the patrons of Lost Children of the Blood.

Ray was his usual high energy self … Talking to the patrons, dancing to the jukebox, taking over the bar when their bartender got a call from his babysitter. Jeremy smiled when his Mate brought him a perfect Irish coffee, delivered with a kiss.

Seeing Ray’s wedding band flash in the bar lights, Jeremy’s thoughts were drawn to last year when he had fled from New York to Chicago after a particularly nasty undercover job in which he’d become a suspect. At the same time Kowalski called to say Benoit had found his Mate. The Tallikut Clan had converged on Chicago for fear history would repeat itself.

Once again focused on his Sire, Jeremy knew he needed to protect Ray, but had no time to examine why. He’d Fed from Ray on several occasions, but had been so tied up in his own issues, he failed to realize he’d started a Bond with his friend. It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve, when his fears had been quieted, and his mind clear that Jeremy realized what he’d been missing. With Ray in his arms as they danced across the club’s hardwood floor, he knew without a doubt the slender blond was his Mate.

The realization caused him to stop in the middle of the floor, and take the smiling mouth in a chaste kiss. When the kiss ended, Kowalski never missed a beat.

“It ain’t midnight, and I’m not complaining, but …”

Jeremy silenced the runaway words with another kiss. When the kiss ended, he placed his lips against Ray’s ear. “You are my Mate.”

It was Ray’s turn to stop. “If you’re messing with me, I’ll kick you in the head.”

“I am sorry I have been so blind.”

“How’s your eyesight now?”

“Perfect.”

Jeremy had called John Carter the next day, and three days later, Ray was Turned. Once John was satisfied everything was fine, and Ray had Fed from Chosen Ones to quell the Hunger, they kicked the Clan doctor out, and Ray had tackled him onto their king-sized bed.

~~}~~

The inclement weather kept a lot of people home, or caused them to cut their evening short. There was no one to monitor in the playrooms, so he began sending people home around eleven. By one everyone had cleared out except the crew, and they had everything cleaned up, so Jeremy sent them home.

Standing at the door watching the snow covering the tracks in the parking lot, Jeremy felt arms wrap around his waist. Leaning back into the warmth of his Mate, Jeremy only had one question … “Where would you like to go for your honeymoon?”

~ TBC ~

Random Post: One Liners

What you’re going to see are single lines from upcoming Sylum stories.

(Disclaimer: Bob and Bob 2 have the right to change anything and everything)

***

 

“Where’s my witch at?”

“I want to create, like the men in whose image I was myself created.”

“Do you think he’s invested enough in this.”

“I’m not kissing you, while you smell like that.”

“That was my kill!”

“Nada es verdad.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do guys.”

“Hello, brother.”

“They’re actually mermaids.”

“He felt a sharp pain slice through his temple, and when his eyes opened the courthouse stood completely finished, the clock hand was moving towards 10:04pm.”

“We noticed you were missing your bodyguard.”

“I just brought out his full potential.”

“Are you done being twelve?”

“You want me to find out his cunning plans are before or after I blow him?”

“I’m so proud I made that, don’t you dare look at that the wrong way.”

 

Sylum Wiki Teaser

We’ve been working on a pretty big update to the Sylum Wiki Blog …

New Characters!!

New Images!! (on going project – thank you Taibhrigh)

Adding in the 10 Races.

Wait? Ten Races?

Yes, these were laid out in the rework of Roads Untravelled.   We specifically showcased them as an introduction – as many of them will come into play in future storyline.

Some are already on earth, a few have visited, and a few have been visited.

Lets recap! (Check under the cut – this ended up being a long post)

Read more“Sylum Wiki Teaser”

Sneak Peek: Clan War – 10th Anniversary

 

Exciting scene from the next installment of Clan War: 10th Anniversary … coming this Advent!

***

The parlor clock chimed five with solemn intent.

“Thomas?  Do let the lady in, and offer her a seat,” he said briskly, admiring her startling if somewhat slightly dated fashion sense.  “She is in no condition to be left standing at the door like a vagrant.”

The smile she bestowed upon him as she stepped into the Manor, was one of immense gratitude.  “I have come all the way from Hill Valley, California, sir,” she explained.  “And I must say, you are very much as has been described to me.  A noble Roman General indeed!”

She refused the chair to which he gestured, and instead reached to take his hand.

“I confess you have the better of me, ma’am.  I was expecting no visitors at this hour.”  His frown was both dark and severe in order to disguise his utter astonishment at her words.

“Forgive me, but I simply could not wait a single hour longer.  I have to talk with you.”  She took a deep breath and pushed her hat a little more squarely on her head, for it had shifted lopsidedly in her agitation.  “I bring you a message from Doctor Emmett Lathrop Brown.”

Full Arc can be found in the Archive

Seven Days of Summer 2017: Day 7

VidMaker: Bj Jones
Summary: Trailer for upcoming re-work and additional Pirate stories
Artist: Taibhrigh

Link To Video

*Must have password to site to view

Teaser from Dead Man’s Chest

Calhoun’s gaze settled on his Mate, a small smile spreading across his face.  In the past few years he looked more Pirate than English Lord.  The dark hair was browner, having been bleached by the sun, and was longer than when he had first had his way with the Englishman, the black velvet tie was no longer used to pull it back but instead tie of the braid that was settling on his shoulder.  The fancy clothes were replaced by durable sea worth wear, a cutlass strapped to his side, with two side arms settled against his lower back.

Over time he had discovered he wasn’t actually an English Lord, but a Roman.

After they had Mated titles really didn’t mean anything to him.

English Lord.

Roman Lord.

There was no difference.

Neither would secure safe passage in the Caribbean.

Until he saw the Roman truly come out, and it was far from the English Lord he played.  Warrick watched in awe and ended up horny as hell as his Mate ripped to shreds a group of soldiers working for the East India Trading Company that had the audacity to arrest Captain Calhoun.

Tony and Timothy had broken him out of the cell, while Nick finished off the soldiers.  The grace and brutality that he used to dispatch the idiots was beautiful.  For a moment he had thought he was looking at another who was known ‘to fight like a devil dressed as a man’.

When Nick pulled his sword from the soldier’s gut watching as he fell next to his comrades, then turned towards Warrick eyes flashing – he had been tempted to drop to his knees.

Anthony slid next to him, smirking slightly.  ‘Captain, I would like to introduce you to the Roman General Nicolaus Valerius Meridius.’

Jack Sparrow Aesthetic by Captain Jack Sparrow

***

Will Turner Aesthetic by Captain Jack Sparrow

This is also when we would like to take the time to announce our next ‘Appreciation Day’.

Sept 19th – Pirate Appreciation Day

More info will be forthcoming

 

Sneak Peek: POTC

***

Jack watched in horror as the Interceptor blew. Debris scattered across the ocean, the mast tumbled into the water, as the rest of her sank to the bottom of the ocean. His heart ached at the loss of such a beautiful ship. His soul cried out for the one who completed him. He had heard tales of Vampires going insane at the loss of their Mate, after all how did one explain Kenway.

He knew he wasn’t sane, and though they hadn’t Bonded, the young blacksmith had soothed his chaotic mind. It was at the moment the ship disappeared from sight his mind completely stilled, the only thought was killing Barbossa.

He had taken the Pearl, but worse he had stolen his soul.

As he settled into a sort of determination to seek his revenge, a voice rang out from the side of the ship.

“Barbossa!”

“Will!” Elizabeth exclaimed happily, hands on her chest as she sighed in relief and attraction.

Jack stared at his Mate. ‘Aye, my blacksmith isn’t easy to kill, this is good.’ He grimaced at the lass, she was practically batting her eyelashes at him. ‘Miss Swann is going to a problem. She must learn Will is mine.’

Story now in Archive

Evil Author Day!

 

This is the first time I’ve participated in Evil Author Day.  Mainly because I’m actually evil all year round!  But this year I figured why not …

There are two Sylum Snippets and one from my POI/AU stories.

Snippet from upcoming Sylum storyline

***

There was a part of him that never wanted to leave.

This was as closest to home he was ever going to get.

Nico took a deep breath, taking in everything that was Rome. It brought back the memories of his childhood. He could hear Artorius laughing in the garden, smell his mother’s cooking, feel the material of his father’s toga in his tiny hands. The memories fade, replaced by the laughter of his children, the feel of Julia in his arms as her pregnant belly pushed against his side, smell the olives as they came into bloom.

He shook his head pulling himself out before the sounds turned violent, the smell of blood was in the air, the cold press of iron against his palm, and the memories became death at his feet.

Nicolaus Valerius Meridius had found himself in the most unique situation. He had never anticipated being part of the Stargate Program. He had helped Jed sell it off to Tony Stark, kept up with the information it was producing, and made sure to always know where D’Artagnan was at all times. But he had no intention of getting involved, until Shep showed up at his office door, asking for a favor.

In their explorations they had found the furthest gate in the known galaxy. The only reason they discovered it was due to Stark’s arc reactors giving the Gate the energy it needed to dial out that far. It would seem the gate just needed a power boost to get a good long distant calling plan.

They had found Rome.

Well it wasn’t the Rome on Earth, but close enough. It also backed Daniel’s theory that Ra had returned to Earth a few times, after the rebellion. The society was Rome in all essence, it was as if the Empire had never fallen, and continued flourishing thousands of years.

The moment O’Neill had encountered the diplomats he knew they needed someone who could speak the language, and he didn’t mean Latin. He had left Daniel behind, made him promise not to get into trouble, and then went back to Command and called Shep, and told him to get his Sire.

Nico was sure, Jack hadn’t expected Kenway, but figured the more bodyguards the Clan Leader had the easier his life would be. He should’ve realized that two Meridii was never a good combination for any situation.

He couldn’t believe the sight before him, even Kenway had been subdued. It was one of the rarer moments that Artorius was more in the forefront. The sight of Rome was enough to bring out the oldest brother of Nicolaus, keeping the pirate and royal navy officer at bay.

Nicolaus was introduced to Caesar Augustus, and the two were friends instantly.

No one was really surprised.

The only downside, was the fact the citizens were concerned by the visitors influence. Though Nico was appalled by their tradition of killing Caesar after five years, he knew not to interfere. This was not his Rome, despite how much it looked like it. They had built their society based on Rome, creating their own system of politics, culture, economy, and history. It was not Nico’s place to change any of it. All he had requested is to learn about them.

Kenway had been worried about the hostility they were receiving. As far as he remembered Romans were very open to strangers, but the citizens of Roma were borderline xenophobic.

Roma didn’t go out to the world.

The world came to Roma.

And only lived and acted in the way best for Romans.

Though many senators had embraced the Meridii brothers, though there were a few who made their displeasure known. The Organas on the other hand had embraced Nico and Kenway instantly, then she promptly grabbed each of their asses. Her husband only smiled and told them to get used to it, she smacked his ass on the way out.

Kenway loved her instantly, and agreed to teacher her sea shanties.

Nico apologized profusely.

Her husband apologized in return when she got Kenway into trouble.

They were only to stay another few days, and Nico found himself sorry to go. He knew he needed to get home, he missed Warrick dearly. They had been fighting more lately, and the time away made him realize how stupid he was being, and wanted to get home to his Pirate. And he didn’t care if he was working or not, he would kidnap his ass if need be. He would make sure to come back to Roma, and bring Warrick next time.

He made his way towards the circular Temple in the center of the gardens. The Cenotaph lay in the middle, with a simple wreath of gold laurels on top. It was an empty tomb, a reminder of what Caesar’s rein end will end. He knew he would not be here in a year’s time, to see Augustus killed on the Ides of March. Instincts would have him trying to save the man, he would freely call brother.

A sound caught his attention.

A shuffle of feet, then the wisp of material.

He opened his hearing, picking up the small heartbeat. It would seem he was being followed.

Nico turned around, startling the small child who was trying to sneak up on him. He had to be no more than six, maybe seven. His brown reddish hair was spiky and looked completely out of control. The beige outfit, and darker robes reminded him of something … but before he could contemplate it, the child blinked. His eyes were mesmerizing, almost iridescent, a trait of the Roma’s especially of those whose lines go all the way back to the founding of the city.

“Hello.” Nico squatted down, the leather creaking slightly. Though he was enjoying wearing the traditional clothes for a General in the Army, the leather was a bit new and stiff.

“Who are you?” The child asked, indicating he wasn’t shy at all.

“Nicolaus.” He answered smiling at the kid. “General Nicolaus Meridius.” Just to remind him, that he was outranked.

“I have not seen your symbol before.” He pointed at the rearing horses on this chest plate.

“It is a symbol of my home, which is far from here.” He stood back up, looking down at the young boy. “Who are you?”

“Son of Caesar.” He answered a hint of a challenge in his voice.

“Caesar has no children.” That he knew for sure. It was not allowed. There were to be no heirs to try and claim the throne.

“I’m an exception.” He moved past Nico to stand near the sarcophagus. “I have left Roma to be a Jedi. And that makes my father childless. I am here to visit him, for the last time.”

Nico closed his eyes, feeling the pain the kid was holding back. “What is your name?”

He turned, gave Nicolaus a small smile. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Snippet/Tease for past history for Sylum

***

Harold was tucked into the library, with Immutef as company. John smiled at the two as they discussed new advancements in medicine, and ways to help his Mates poor eyesight. He was pretty sure Harold really had an idea what he looked like.

Oh he knew sections. He had gotten up close and personal with all aspects of John’s body. Harold commented frequently on his dark hair and light eyes, and when they were face to face, admired his smile. But the overall package, from head to foot – he was pretty sure all Harold saw was a dark blur, it was one reason he took to wearing a red sash around his middle … little did he know it would become much more than a way for his Mate to ID him in a crowd.

He left Harold in the safety of the main Medjai compound and went out to search for Rick to discuss training with the Medjai warriors. He had wanted to up his fighting skills, and at the same time get a feel of the warriors, how much they had changed over the centuries.

John had not told his Mate about his ability to remember all of his Past Lives. If he did explain it, he would have to explain his Mates connection to Nicolaus. Shepsit Hemet Amun-Ra knew about his unique ‘gift’, but he doubted she would be talking to Harold about it, any time soon.

He rounded the corner, entering one of the many tunnels that led through the mountains that hid the Medjai from the outside world. It had taken a few times to get a feel for the tunnels, but after a while he navigated them like a native.

He stepped out into the early morning sun.   It was taking time to adjust to the heat, especially since he came from the cool shorelines of Wales.

“Rhy’el?”

John turned on his heel, seeking out the voice.

A voice, that at one point he thought he would never hear again.

He smiled brightly at the sight of his brother. The wild blonde hair, large smile, dressed in Medjai clothing, it was as if they had not been parted. He looked exactly the same, as the day John had died protecting those in his care.

“Dan’el!”

Without hesitation, the two embraced holding each other tightly. The joy of finding a part of home, soothed their souls.

Dan’el stepped back looking over John, eyes narrowing slightly. “You are smaller than the last time I saw you.”

“About a foot.” John smirked slightly, gesturing towards himself. “This is my fourth time around since then.”

He paused. “How is that possible? I mean. How do you know who I am?”

“I have all of my memories, all the way to the moment I woke up and saw our father.” He stepped back slightly, letting his brother come to terms with the situation.

“You look just like Rhy’el. I mean, besides a foot smaller you are a spitting image of him.” Dan’el smiled as he reached up and cupped John’s cheek. “You even have his eyes. Do you have his anger issue?”

“Some things never leave the blood.” John shrugged, not wanting to discuss it. “This is not my first time back in Egypt, I had thought to seek you out, but the Horus guards got to me first.”

“We finally defeated them, the Gate was buried, along with the knowledge of how to open it.” Dan’el sighed, he had come to terms centuries ago he would truly never go home. “I made a life here.”

“Vampire?” He asked, noticing the lack of a heartbeat.

“Ardeth is my Sire.   My wounds were great, and the Vampire blood sealed all of it together. It is odd, but I have had no one to talk about it.”

“And of Rem?” John asked curiously. “I know he survived I’ve seen his own fruition.”

Dan’el laughed heartily. “We all left something on this planet, or you would not be standing before me.”

“You were not the only one given a gift, the rest of just did not start a war over it!” He gave him a pointed look. “I am more human …”

“So the Vampire is the stronger element, than your original blood line.” Dan’el asked, gazing at his brother.

“The genetics are still strong, just smaller.” John gave him a wicked chuckle.

“He has a Mate you know.”

They both turned to see the third of their family, standing next to them. His black hair pulled back into a tail, blending in by wearing the traditional Medjai clothing. He leaned against his staff, an item they had rarely seen him without, and a rare item that had come from their home.

“A Mate?” Dan’el smiled. “May the Gods help this planet if anyone was to harm them.”

“No truer a prayer, my brother.” John smiled softly. “He is my center, my calm. The only one to sooth the darker elements.”

“Then he is your Mate.” Dan’el patted his arm. “You must introduce him.”

“I am sure you know him.” Rem added into the mix. “Harold, the Irishman.”

“The one Nicolaus and Arthur brought home, he is very smart and not one to be taken lightly.” Dan’el approved. Harold was a man, their father would have been proud to have Rhy’el Bond with.

“Do not underestimate him.” John stated simply.

“Never underestimate the quiet ones.” Rem chuckled. “I had a feeling today would be a good time to hang around the Medjai. It was time we were once again a family.”

“You know we have to keep this secret.” Dan’el pointed out. “Even talk of something unworldly besides the Vampire can set anyone off. Those who lived through the rebellion with Ra, do not hold ‘outsides’ in high regard.”

“I do not hold a few Vampires in high regard.” John snarled. “The Medjai Advisor is not one to advise wisely. She knows of my gift, but not that I am older than she. I lost my soul and life to the Horus guards protecting a precious soul, nine years before your rebellion, and she denies that soul exists.”

“You changed more than you know, Rhy’el.” Rem reached out and touched his brother’s arm, sensing the anger building. “That night you lost your Mate, and then your life. One was watching, and your sacrifice touched him deeply. It was likely the moment that changed him to the good. He was instrumental in the rebellion nine years later.”

Dan’el gazed between them, with a look of contemplate and slightly confusion. “Rem’el?”

“He is the story of the handmaiden and her child?” He glanced over at the oldest of them. “The one that Ra’s Al Ghul would tell others about, the one who not only sacrificed her life but took out three guards in revenge.”

Dan’el focused on John. “That was you.”

He nodded biting back the emotions, he knew full well he was going to have to come up with some explanation to Harold about his range of emotions. He was horrible at hiding from his Mate, at least Harold was as bad.

“My brother, to have lost you twice…” He pulled John into his arms, holding him tightly. Rhy’el was the youngest of the three, the last one ‘born’. His duty was to protect, and he would have given his life for any of them, but had sacrificed himself to make sure their father had survived.

To know the Horus guards had killed him again, while he protected a precious soul, brought tears to Dan’el.

“You were to lose me two more times, before now.” John held him close for a moment then stepped back. “One as a slayer of dragons, now a Saint. The other a young child who died in a fire, before her father could save her. It’s him I’ve mostly returned to, Nicolaus.”

Rem laughed. “You are doubly blessed or cursed to be born of the Meridii.”

Dan’el shook his head, somehow it was fitting and not shocking. “You are truly now of the Meridii line?”

John nodded. “Soul and Blood.”

The two brothers looked at each other, shaking their heads and smiled. “Then there is someone you need to meet, it will help you understand the significance of all things.”

When John laid eyes on him, he understood the meaning behind their words. The only response was to laugh. At least the father of all was not offended.

And now for the Non-Sylum story, this is a piece from the upcoming installment in Dragons of Interest

***

Harold had made sure to not draw attention to himself as he fled the library.  He loosened his grip on Bear’s leash, easing his own tension.  They walked a few blocks, then turned right and went another two blocks.

When his phone beeped he glanced down to see directions.

‘Right.’

‘Stay.’

‘Left.’

He stood on a street corner, across from a park.  It was actually the one Bear liked the least.  Harold couldn’t help the smile the Machine led him to one of the few places he barely frequented.

His paranoia, it would seem, was rubbing off.

The light turned green and as he was ready to cross, his phone beeped again.

‘Stay.’

‘Stay.’

He gripped Bear’s leash, putting the dog on full alert.

As the light turned red, he noticed there were Federal Agents on the other side.

He had nowhere to go.

He could turn and go back the way he came, but they would catch up with him in mere seconds.  It didn’t matter which way he fled, his disability wouldn’t let him run.

Harold glanced down at Bear, who was growling low in his throat.  The dogs ears were pointed towards the threat, lips curled in a snarl.  “Stand down.”  He commanded in Dutch, Bear ignored him.  “Bear you can’t take them all.”

He barked almost as if daring the Agents to come at them.

“You are so Mr. Reese’s dog.”  He took a few deep breathes, and waited for the light to turn green.

Waited.

And waited.

He frowned when he realized the light wasn’t turning.  He looked to his left to see the line of cars, backing up at the intersection.   When he glanced back across the street the Agents were watching the traffic race through the intersection, there was no way for them to step out.

‘Stay.’

“You can’t keep them away forever.”  He muttered looking up at the camera. “They’ll go after civilians.”

‘Stay.’

Two Agents stepped off the curb, guns drawn, and their hands out bringing the traffic to a stop.

Citizens began backing away as the Feds moved across the street towards them.

Harold refused to move, hand tight on the leash as Bear began barking and growling at earnest.  He stood his ground, not wanting any innocent being killed because of him.

Just as the Agents were halfway across the road, a black van slammed on it’s brakes and came to screeching stop in front of Harold.

The side door opened.

“Get in!”  A woman yelled, as she reached out.  “We’re friends, Harold, get in the damn van.”

Well it couldn’t be worse than the situation he was in now.

He moved towards his rescuers.

She took his arm and helped him into the van, as a blonde grabbed Bear’s leash and yanked the dog in side, before slamming the door shut.

“We’re clear!”  He yelled at the two in front.

Harold startled at the sound of gunshots being fired, before the van took off down the street at a high speed.  At the next light, there was a thump on the roof.  The man in the front passenger seat grabbed his gun, and slid out the window just as the side door opened and Connor Kenway moved inside.

“You’re a hard man to find Harold.”  He gave him a pointed look, as he closed the door.  “I give Aveline credit for keeping up with you.”

“Are you fucking insane!”  The man yelled, as he settled back in his seat.

Connor gave him a smirk, before reaching over and petting Bear.  “Not nearly as bad as you four.”

“I never thought I would be this happy to see you, Mr. Kenway.”  Finch gave him a small smile, before glancing at the rest of the occupants of the van.  “Who are you people?”

“I’m Jane.”  The woman held out her hand, giving him a reassuring smile.  “These losers are my siblings.  Benji, at the computers.  Brandt, is the one yelling, and Ethan is driving.”

“Wait, Ethan Hunt?” he asked curiously.

The man in question turned and looked at him.  “My reputation precedes me?”

“John stated I should avoid you.”  He gave the man a pointed look, wanting to hide the Machine even more than it was.  “He also said, that if I ever needed help, to contact you.”

“It wasn’t you that contacted us?”  Benji asked, confused.  “We got messages stating Dragons needed help.”

Harold looked down at his phone.

‘Auxiliary Admin authorized.’

Yes, yes I am evil, why do you ask?

 

Post Advent Sylum Teaser

 


So I couldn’t go the whole Advent without some Teaser of what’s to come!!

This particular scene is set in the next big Arc, which is still in the beginning stages of development.   I’m not going to explain exactly what’s going on, just let you enjoy the moment.

To fully get the impact of the scene, listen to this before, after or during.

This scene is a gift to Timothy Quinn – my partner in all of this.  Enjoy!


He was going to kill Nico for this.

It was his crazy idea in the first place.

Take a stand for the common man!

By running through the streets of London, dressed like a madman, wearing long black coats, Guy Fawkes mask, black wig, and a Capotain hat, or something similar from the 16th Century.

On the one side Driver Cloaks.  Hey, at least they formed to the body, which prevented the material from snagging on a chimney, fire escapes, or any other protruding items on a rooftop, but did the great Nico think about weapons – NO!

To stay anonymous everyone had to keep their weapons on the inside of their coats.

Problem, if they needed their weapons their coat had to be open, and when the coat was open, it became a cape.  Capes have a tendency to get caught on chimneys, fire escapes, or any other protruding items on a rooftop, which is a potential disaster when one is running across said rooftops being chased by the military.

And he won’t even mention the inability to see out of the damn mask.

But hey at least everyone looks the same, and can be anonymous.

John didn’t point out the 6’4″ guy standing next to the 5’4″ girl.

At least Evy was damn good at blending, despite her stature.  She’d been doing it for centuries alongside Jake, her brother.  He never knew how the two pulled it off, but they could easily be interchangeable while on a Hunt.

At the moment all of this was irrelevant, if he survived this, he was going to kill Nico.

Or let Harold do it.

Better yet, let The Machine empty his bank accounts!

***

It had been a simple patrol.  Check the abandoned areas of the warehouse district to check for citizens that were running from the Police.  It was fairly quiet, which should’ve been his first clue that the night was going to go straight to hell.

With The Machine in his ear, he located a small child who was hiding in a rat infested shithole.  He cursed at the society that allowed for this to happen.  He then bit back the anger at the government who thrived on it.  Not able to take off the mask to assure the young child, he motioned for him to come closer.

The boy reached out and laid his small hand in John’s large gloved ones.  He scooped up the boy, and headed for one of the safe houses.  He would drop the boy off with the underground, and let them get him out of the city.

Exiting the warehouse, he was blinded by headlights, even with the mask he found himself squinting as he held a hand over his eyes.

‘Three vehicles.’

‘Eighteen soldiers.’

‘Armed with military grade weapons.’

The kid pushed against his chest, jumping down before kicking him in the shin than ran towards the cops.   Once he was behind the larger burley one with a thick mustache, he yelled derogatory names that no ten-year-old should know.

He rarely resorted to hurting children, but if he saw the kid again, it was getting dunked into the Thames, after a good backhand to his smart mouth.

He lifted his arms, in the universal gesture for surrender.

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

‘One.

The whole area went dark, including the vehicle headlights.

John turned on his heel and was up the side of the warehouse before the explosion of bullets riddle the front of the building.  He ran full tilt for the edge, jumping onto the roof of next warehouse.

He smiled when he heard them cursing as the vehicles wouldn’t start.

They began to track him on foot.

‘Left.’

He turned, stumbled over the decaying roof, and with a silent curse launched over the large alleyway onto the next structure.

‘Third Warehouse.’ 

‘Skylight.’

He was moving on instincts, listening to the mechanical directions in his ear.  He had learned to trust it, over the past decades of saving Numbers.

The last jump was pushing the distance for any Assassin, but he closed his eyes, said a Hail Mary, and took the leap of faith.  He felt the skylight give, as he crashed through the glass onto the warehouse floor, landing with one knee bent, and hand resting of the dusty floor.

‘Two vehicles.’

‘Twenty-two soldiers.’

‘Armed with military grade weapons.’

Great they had back-up.

‘News media.’

John tapped the earpiece, hopefully it was enough to signal The Machine, that he wanted to know what was being said.  It was the only way he could communicate, the hard fast rule for any of them was not to speak.  It was how they stayed Anonymous.

And that was the key for Nico’s plan to work.

The Government News Network was broadcasting live.

‘The Armed Forces have the terrorist trapped, these hard working men have gone beyond the call of duty to keep us safe, by chasing down this criminal, putting their lives on the line.’

John rolled his eyes, snorting softly.

‘We bring to you live, the capture of this ruthless terrorist who has killed hundreds of our people, destroyed our heritage.  But we will not succumb to fear, we will fight.’

This time he snorted loudly.

Hundreds was pushing it, maybe less than ten, though he would admit there were at least a good dozen or so that would need knee replacement surgery.  And he wasn’t the one who destroyed the Tower of London.

He pulled his two weapons, each loaded with 16 bullet clips.  Thankful Harold had confiscated Croft’s automatic reload and designed a set for him, giving John an additional four clips.  It was decent ammo for a small shootout, but not one for this many enemy soldiers.  He would have to be precise in his shooting.

‘Tracking.’

Over the last decades, he had gotten used to the mechanical voice, the Machine would use when they had needed information instantly and didn’t have time to read a text, or Jarvis to translate.

John had developed a system with it.  The Machine knew how he moved, how he fought, and would set the parameters to fit his style.

‘Lights shut down in …’

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

‘One.’

As the warehouse went dark, he felt a sense of calmness surround him.  He sent assurance down the Bond to Harold, then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and trusted The Machine to be his eyes and ears.

‘Four man team, entering warehouse.’

‘Spread at 10, 12, 1 and 3 o’clock.’

He raised his weapons, and without hesitation, began firing.

‘Move to your left, 3 spaces.’

‘1 dead, 2 wounded.’

’11 and 10 o’clock.’

He eased to his left, shifting slightly to take out the next targets.  He heard the grunts and clatter of weapons to the ground.

‘3 dead, 1 wounded.’

‘Second – Four man team entering warehouse.’

‘Burst of fire from 9 to 1 o’clock, while moving four spaces to your right.’

John felt the metal shelving on his shoulder, forcing him turn to his left until his back braced against it.  He dropped the clips and grabbed the next set.  He eased down the shelving, using it as a shield, ignoring the bullets as they pinged off the metal.

‘Step out.  Turn around. 9 and 3 o’clock.’

A calm breath, before he stepped out, turned and fired off four shots

‘6 dead. 2 wounded.’

‘Three man team, entering warehouse.’

They were trying to wear him down, while making themselves less of a target.  John was pretty sure, the government was starting to get horrified at the fact their soldiers were dying, or they were using it as a rating ploy, at this moment anything was possible.

He wondered if they were even televising anymore.

He chuckled.

Of course they were, The Machine would make sure of it.

‘Four steps forward.’

‘Burst fire directly in front of you.’

He heard bodies hitting the ground, yells coming from outside.  The unit was starting to crack around the edges.  They didn’t know how to handle the situation. They were losing control fast.

‘Drop.’

John went down, just as a hail of bullets went over his head.

‘Stand.  Shoot.  Run 6 feet to your left.’

He sighed in relief, when his back hit a concrete wall.  He couldn’t tell the layout of the warehouse, but it had a distinct smell of tobacco and alcohol.  It wasn’t a modern building, at least a hundred or more years old, likely filled with crap left behind decades ago.

He dropped the clips from his weapons, and slammed in the last set.

’12 dead. 2 Wounded.  There are two, four man teams waiting.’

John let his hearing adjust to the warehouse, listened carefully to the sounds the soldiers were making, and with a smirk he stepped out from behind the concrete wall, fired four shots.

’14 dead.’

‘Showoff.’

John chuckled, he still had some of his own skills.

‘Three man team coming into the warehouse.’

‘Two man team coming in from the back.’

‘Potential crossfire.’

With him in the middle.

John ducked down as a hail of bullets slammed into the concrete wall.  He ran along it until the the end, pulling his weapons and fired in the direction the barrage was coming from.

‘1 dead.  1 wounded.’

‘Stay down, move ten paces forward.  Fire at 8 and 5 o’clock.’

Seriously!  If he could send a death glare towards a working camera he would.  He was pretty damn flexible, but that was going to be tough shot.  Maybe on a good day, he would hit both targets, but today wasn’t a good day.

With a dark chuckle, he stood and followed the directions exactly, placing his arms at 8 and 5, and fired off the rest of his ammo.  Time felt as if it slowed down, as he felt bullets fly by him.  He slid and ducked behind a set of wooden pillars, they were taller than him, and from the smell and feel they were at one point in time rail ties.  He dumped the empty clips, putting the guns back into the holster.

’17 Dead.’

‘Two steps to your left.  Use barrier to cover approach.  Enemy is 6ft, side exposed.’

He slid down the dagger from the holster inside his forearm.  What he wouldn’t have given to have his hidden blade, but again that was too noticeable.  He slumped down lowering his face to make sure the white of the mask wasn’t seen in the pitch blackness.  He could hear the soldier’s heartbeat it was beating fast and hard.  Using his Assassin instincts he reached out with his left hand to cover his mouth as his right slammed the dagger below the Kevlar, straight into the soldier’s liver.  He pulled him behind the pillars and dumped the body, taking any and all of his weapons.

‘Warning! On your left.’

Without hesitation he threw the dagger at an upwards angle, followed by four bullets from the confiscated pistol.

’19 Dead.’

‘Weapons out of ammo.’

Wait. What?  John pulled the clip of the automatic weapon and felt along the top, the chamber was empty.  He tossed it, and grabbed the secondary handgun, only to find the same.

They wasted their ammo, trying to hit him instead of aiming for him.  Stupid move that left them defenseless, and now he was totally unarmed, and there were at least three more.  He needed back up, and he wasn’t sure if any was coming.

‘Three man team moving in.’

He was a sitting duck where he was located.  They could easily move around each side of the barrier and catch him in a deadly crossfire.

‘Option: Jedi.’

John froze for a split second in shock, but then he really shouldn’t have been surprised, The Machine had put a name to it.  It had watched him for decades, and knew what John was capable of and wait he would do to protect Harold.

Though it was wrong on one aspect.

Not a Jedi.

He stepped away from the pilings, turned around and faced the oncoming threat.  He took a deep breath, centered himself.  He felt the anger rise with in him, at the inability to stop the government from destroying the country.  From the horrors of what he had seen done to the citizens.  From the deaths he couldn’t stop.

And pushed out.

The pile of wood exploded outward, taking out one of the soldiers.  The other two dove away from the falling timber, pulling up their weapons.

‘Incoming.’

He lifted his hands palms out, feeling the pressure against his body as the sheer power of the bullets slammed against the barrier.  He closed his fists and threw his hands down, sending them harmless to the ground.

He lifted his left, hand gripping tightly.  He heard the soldier drop his weapon, gasping for air, without thought he tossed him towards his comrade slamming both of them into the wall.

‘All clear.’

‘Admin needs you.’

John felt the power flow threw him, he knew if anyone was to see him now, his eyes would be glowing yellow, with a hint of silver.  His hands flexed at his side, as he tried to get it back under control.  The Machine helped him navigate out of the building, and as he stepped outside, he was faced with a single reporter and cameraman.  Both looked terrified and in awe at the same time.

“Who are you?”  She yelled out to him.

He held out his hand and with two fingers, their symbol.

V

And with a sadistic smirk, that no one could see, he flung both arms out, clenched his fists then pulled downwards.  The warehouse groaned then collapsed, nothing was left but a pile of rubble.

The reporter startled, jumping backwards.

John ran across the open area, and then shimmied up the opposite warehouse, he took the offered hand and let his fellow vigilantes pull him up.  He didn’t need to see his face, to know it was Nico, who held his hand tightly.  With a quick nod, he pushed past them and headed for their safe house.

He needed to get to Harold.

***

In a galaxy far far away …

Obi-Wan Kenobi argued with the Council, to allow him to travel to Earth.  Master Nico was in danger, and he was needed there, not standing arguing the finer points of Jedi involvement in ‘undeveloped’ worlds.

Yoda had tuned out most of the argument, knowing full well that Kenobi, now a Jedi Master himself, would follow his heart and go to Nico.  And if he didn’t, his chosen lover, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, the more rebellious of the two, would drag Obi-Wan to Earth just to annoy the Council, despite his own personal feelings towards Nico.

The sudden shock wave through the Force hit him straight on.  His small body rocked backwards in his seat, causing Master Windu to focus on the older Jedi.  His ears folded back, as he shifted through his own memories, trying to place the familiarity of what he had just felt.

His eyes snapped open.

That was a presence he hadn’t felt in years gone.

“Finished discussion it is.  Master Kenobi and Jinn take me to Earth they shall.”  He eased off his seat and made for the door.  “Leave now we must.”

The green troll ignored the incredulous stares from the council, the suspicious ones from the two Jedi Masters, and the all-knowing smirk from Windu.

Padawan he had to find.