Anyways, in an essay I'm working on for English 111, taking the stress out of it has caused me some problems. I realize that; and wish I had known a little earlier. Or at least bothered to wrap my head around it. I truly do. It was a mistake I can't really take again.
Morrigan silently sipped at a glass of bourbon whiskey. Her bloodshot eyes were still watery under the lighting. Today she was dressed in a billowing blouse stitched out of raven feathers and gold thread. A skirt of the same materials brushed her knees, riding up on one side and revealing a tantalizing bare thigh. At another, less stressful time I would enjoy looking at it. Now though, I just watched her drink until Kari brought mine.
Boxes shifted and scraped and clinked against glass as she searched for the finest in a vast collection.
The copper fluid passed over her dark lipstick. “She’s coming tonight,” she said quietly without looking away from the impressive shelves of liquor.
“Sarah,” I inquired.
She nodded. Death grunted. He took the stool on the opposite side of me, to my left. The scythe’s edge leaned toward my arm but far enough away for comfort. He spread the shaft- wrapped for eight inches at the tip with a striking array of sapphire cloth- along the bar. On rare events when the body counts of innocents were abnormal; he took it easy on the cocky manner. Death was dressed in a fine suit of shimmering white brilliance. He didn’t wear the orange crocs either, instead replacing them with expensive matching dress shoes.
Death produced a silver plated glass of his own whiskey out of thin air. He peered around me to gaze at Morrigan. Holding his drink above the bar he said, “Ut cado insons insontis of orbis terrarum nos cannot sedeo. May suum animus sileo in pacis quod eternus glorior scientia ut they ero memor.”
Morrigan repeated it in her ancient Celtic language and they both tipped back to down the drinks. “What did you say?” I asked Death.
“To the fallen innocents of the world we cannot reside. May their souls rest in peace and eternal glory in the knowledge that they will be remembered.” He said.
“Beautiful words darling, truly beautiful.” Morrigan commended. She took a very human shuddering breath of sadness and lifted herself from the stool. “I’ll be back later,” she told me over her shoulder before stepping towards the door and simply vanishing into thin air.
Death and I sat in silence for a moment, him brooding into the drink and me at the bar. "Funny," I said, shaking my head and grimly smiling without looking up.
"What?" Death asked. His tone told me he was uninterested. He just needed someone to quietly sit with.
Brooding, dark yes. Because it fits the context. Some things have to be dark, but in a beautiful way. As in the scene from After Shadows Call where the Wendigo watches over it's dreamland. They are placed to remind the reader just what they are getting into. Not everything is about fun and games. It can't be.
I have to make you care. I have to scare you. I have to make you laugh. I have to make you, most of all, understand just who these characters are. Death's toast to the lost innocents (after an attack set off by unintended consequences) was meant to show the reader that things are deeper than they have seen before.
This moment is pivotal because at that point, all characters change. I need rest now. Tomorrow is pivotal for me, so I bid you all a very vampiric, "Good night."