My Top Ten Song List – Number 8.

 

So far, I have worked out numbers 10 and 9….but 8…well, 8 happened to really help me, I suppose.  A song that makes me recall a great personal loss.  Struggling to understand how we can be given a gift and then have it taken away.  Not all the songs in this list are going to be cheerful ones, but as it is the song list of my life, then this one must be included.

Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven.

 

“Tears In Heaven”

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong
And carry on,
‘Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in heaven.

Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven?

I’ll find my way
Through night and day,
‘Cause I know I just can’t stay
Here in heaven.

Time can bring you down,
Time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart,
Have you begging please, begging please.

Beyond the door,
There’s peace I’m sure,
And I know there’ll be no more
Tears in heaven.

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong
And carry on,
‘Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in heaven.

 

The Maze of Greed – Part Seventeen : SS.

Bandit’s life flashes in front of her eyes as she is about to find peace within the arms of a fallen.  Was she accepting her death, or was this last explosion of memories to make her realize the little girl she had forgotten?

Scene setting : The Maze of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Dessy, Artie and Phyln.

 

Dessy:  Mariela shot a look towards Raul, but said nothing else on the matter. “Scar…” she said when he snarled, but said nothing more. She looked up at Habib, giving a nod before being handed Bandit. She actually struggled a little bit to hold her up this time, walking over to a nearby fountain and kneeling down, layign Bandit down in front of it… but it wasn’t as easy as it was before.

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She turned around hearing Raul’s begging voice, and cocked her head at the tears in his eyes. “You actually care for her.” she spoke out loud. “You have a funny way of showing it.” she then spoke. “Hurting her to where she’s an inch away from death and placing a collar on her like a dog isn’t a very good way to show you “love her”.” she then snapped, before looking at Bandit.

She moved her hand around, sprouting a few vines to wrap around Bandit’s injured leg. They glowed slightly, healing the leg. “You don’t have to give your life. As much as I’d love to kill you for everything you’ve done, there’s no need.” she spoke. She could hear the gasps come from Tessa and her brothers, but the witch just rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bandit.” she then said, leaving her hand over the vine wrapped around the leg, greatening the healing magic occasionally.

Mariela whipped her head around when Scar snarled again. “Scar! Let him go.” she spoke. “He’s not going to do anything.” she spoke, before turning her gaze towards Raul. “If he does, I’ll be more than happy to take care of him myself.”

 

Artie:  

. . .

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Whispers of many, voices garbled together in a chorus of words that Bandit could not understand. Flashing lights consumed her eyes, scenes that she could not focus on from her memory encasing her, consumed with the unconsciousness of her physicality as her life flashed before her eyes. Bandit’s mind was a chorus of crescendos, an orchestrated chaos. While she would remain limp physically and paled, on the brink of death, life surged within her in a rush of force greater than it ever had before. The lights grew faster in speed, the whispers had begun a hissing and definite roar – so much so that she wished to cover her ears and scream to make it stop, to halt the yells. Pieces of her past conversations of all sorts mentally assaulted her, loud over the whispers.

“Mommy, I’m scared.” A small girl’s voice.
“I know baby.. Be strong, Beatrix. Be strong.” An older and mature woman voice.
“Mama!” The girl was crying now, a shuffle as a chorus of yelling began, men, a gunshot..

Whispers.

SLAP.
“I hate you!” Teenage girl, screaming through tears.
“You should never have been born!” A man, older. Slurred words. Drunk.

Louder, more voices of whispering.

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch- Don’t touch me!

The whispers began to be overpowering.

Sobbing, soft and muffled, as though a young woman was crying herself to sleep..

Silence.

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A single memory found itself to her subconscious. A better time, before she had earned her nickname. Back when her name was not Bandit.. but Beatrix. When she sustained enough innocence to be nothing more than a human, with issues but otherwise unscathed by the future hardships of the world in front of her.. The world that she would know to be cruel and unforgiving, willing to allow a woman to die for its own entertainment. To sit back and watch as a girl who had only tried to live became nothing more than a chew toy for others to tug-o-war with..

“Mama?” Beatrix asked, held in her mother’s loving arms. “Yes, my dear?” The woman had kind eyes and dark hair, but her eyes were a striking blue – cold, if not for the warm smile always planted on her face. Cold, if not for the lovingness that always came from her, the willingness to be there for what was her pride and joy.. The small girl held in her arms. Blue eyes gazed back into the woman’s, but these were duller. They were not striking, but simply calming, as if gazing into an ocean. Her blonde hair was pure and untainted, much like the soul within her. Beatrix could not have been older than six, perhaps maybe four or five..

“Why isn’t Daddy home?” Beatrix’s eyes were merely curious, lacking sadness and not yet understanding the concept…
“Daddy had to go out and see his friends. He’s drinking his medicine, sweetie.” The woman’s face faltered for a split second – one that Beatrix would not note, gazing down at her mother’s beautiful curls and looking back up to the smile that made the young girl smile in return. Oblivious. Ignorance was bliss..

A sudden and loud thud would then make the woman look up, from down the hall.. Something was different. It was not the knocking over of objects.. It was a gunshot. “Honey. Beatrix, baby.” Amoria crouched down to gaze at her daughter. “You need to go to the closet, and I need you to hide. Daddy’s medicine didn’t work today, he’s feeling sick. Okay?”

“Mommy,” Beatrix’s face had fallen. “I’m scared..” She sudden began to gaze around. Another crash further down the hall. Loud footsteps.. Her father’s friends had come along?

“I know, baby. Be strong, Beatrix. Be strong.” With a waving motion, Amoria would then turn to have her back towards Beatrix, standing at full height as though ready to protect her child. Beatrix did not recognize the bruises on her mother’s wrists back then.

Beatrix’s eyes widened as she suddenly was overcome with fear, waddling with her small and inexperienced feet towards her mother, seeking warmth and comfort that she would never again feel – “Mama!”

The door burst open.

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. . .

Bandit burst awake, tears in her eyes as she gasped, sitting up. A hand flinged itself over her chest, oxygen coming slowly to her as it was painful to breathe. The flood of emotions drowned her, the waves overtook her body as she was suddenly consumed in painful sobs. It hurt to cry, her chest burned with each breath. Movements sent flames throughout her body.. She was consumed with pain, the intense healing on her already weak human body nearly shattering it. Her blue eyes held even more emotional pain that physical, the emotions perhaps restricting her breaths more than her actual injuries. “Fuck! Fuck!” Each word was breathless, mixed with a choking cough.

“I can’t.. breathe!” She was breathing, but it didn’t feel like air was going through to her. For the first time in her short life, Bandit had broken down. Even Raul’s mind games had not broken her. Her first love leaving had not broken her. The death of her mother had not broken her. The abandonment of her father had not broken her. But now, with all of it coming back at once, she broke into a million pieces. A million small fragments of the girl she had been. Tender, stripped of emotions and guards that years had prepared her for putting up.. And now they had been stripped down, leaving her defenseless in front of so many people.

Her legs had ceased to bleed and now she could feel them, the dull and numb feeling that coursed from him into her core. She was a mess of tears and blood, her hair dirty in contrast to the innocent blonde it had once been in her memory. The dull blue and clueless eyes in her past were now bright and shining from the tears once within them. They had become striking, they were striking. She did not have the same warmth as her mother. The cold had consumed her – she had not consumed it…

For once, in her life, Bandit felt a need for warmth. A need..
“Someone hold me!” The words were gasped, her body shaking as she was continuously healed – it was a necessary evil for her to live, but in her conscious state it only brought her pain..
 

Phyln: His grasp was final he was not the reaper but he entertained the idea that he was the janitor of the dead, he did not farry souls over the river or collect them from the world of the living. No his was a much simpler task more often than not when the ever flowing tides of chaos removed another damned being from its eternal or rather not so eternal existence in hell he would sweep away the remnants of the power it had once possessed. grabbing a hold of the soul he began the process of adding it to his collection, dragging the spirit towards him it struggled clearly still clinging to the life it once had. However it was too late it had no where to go, even if he released it where would it run to. it was not hard to hold onto a soul when it has no where to go slowly he dragged it across the ethereal plain into the bag. as it entered the strings on the bag drew them selves closed over what to the mortal eye would appear to be nothing. opening his eyes with his task finished he fastened the bag to his belt and raised one hand in prayer. “May your eternal rest be peaceful for you have served your damnation”. his prayers were little more than ceremony at this point offering nothing than words to the dead. He turned and began his treck out of the maze at his usual brisk pace.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

Greed: The Masquerade Ball : Maze

The passing of Lydia’s soul over into the bag after putting up such a struggle meant the end of the reign of the Princess of Greed. All her magical power was now within the young witch, whether she realized this or not. Would the witch end up being cursed just as the other heads of Greed had been, or will this be the dawning of a new era? Anything was possible, least that is how things were happening up further in the now beautiful maze.

A woman who had been beaten within an inch of her life, and forced to wear a collar that’s magic drained the wearer was so close to death that nothing that the Warlock or even the fallen could do to stop the inevitable. However, it was within this moment, when life is slipping away that we look back one last time at all that has happened to us over the course of our lives. With the group watching on – fearful that Bandit would die, they were unaware that she was experiencing this near death slide show of her life, from child hood till the bitter end. It is interesting that it is not one single event in our lives that makes us who we are, but rather it is like an enormous patch work quilt. Each piece sewn together with an array of emotions and feelings that either create something beautiful and a treasure or something akin to a nightmare visage.

Stripped away of everything and all the fail safes that had been set into place to create a fierce wall in which to protect her from further harm had now crashed down into a pile of rubble, leaving Bandit exposed to everything….and all at once.

Yes, the witch was able to somehow stop the bleeding and heal the physical, but what she couldn’t do was heal the heart….the mind. Behind those terrified eyes lay a broken soul. A timid child. Cold…and frightened. Her heart eclipsed for so so long.

Scar growled as he slowly released his grip on Raul’s throat and fell back, only to watch on as Mariela did her best to heal the young girl. He crouched down beside Mariela, his eyes riddled with concern. The alp was the demon of nightmares who had been called on especially by Lydia for his talents, and he whispered to Mariela.

“I can see….what she is seeing.” The more the alp witnessed the more shocked he was. The poor girl had been through so much, and it only made him hate the Warlock with a renewed passion. Scar grit his teeth and snorted through his nostril as he waited to see if the girl would make it through.

Thankfully, Bandit’s spirit was a strong one. A fighter to the very core. Her first words as she started to come around showed that same spunk. “Fuck! Fuck!” This brought something of a relieved collective sigh, but it was what she said following, that made all realize she was not out of the woods.

“I can’t.. breathe!”

Scar threw up his hands and sat back. “I’m not doing it.” One of the things that an alp does to a victim is sit upon their chest so they feel that they can’t breathe. It had to be something else causing it. With dark marks upon his throat, Raul again stepped forward, wanting so much now to help Bandit. The only problem was, someone stood in his way.

“Turn around…and walk away.” The fallen’s wings opened out in the full to protect Bandit who was still on the ground, now shivering. Habib would simply not have Raul hurt her again. “It’s over. Return to Lust where you belong.” The two men faced off, Habib’s face was like stone as he refused to give quarter. He had seen Raul hurt Bandit over and over again. For the first time in centuries, the Warlock lowered his head. He had lost. The worst part was that it was in losing her that he truly realized what his real feelings were. This was the price he would pay for the rest of his days in Hell.

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The sounds of Bandit crying out for someone to hold her brought out a pained look from Raul. Oh how much he wanted to hold her, to cherish her now and tell her that he loved her. Sadly, it would not be him. Sighing, he turned away from the scene, his hands clenched into fists and he strode away – vanishing from the Maze of Greed.

With the Warlock gone, Habib returned to Bandit’s side and attempted to lift her up into his powerful arms. He hoped to give her the warmth and comfort she needed. Especially now.

“I’m here for you, Bandit.”

Scar rose to his feet, and gestured with his hand for Mariela’s. It was now a time to breathe, and let Mariela have a chance to speak with her family – her brothers and her friend Tessa. The Alp knew that they had a lot to catch up on.

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“Why don’t we get out of this maze and head up to your castle, my Lady?” He smiled brightly at the new Princess of Greed, and waited to see her reaction. After all, he said ‘my’ again.

 

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela watched Bandit, occasionally her eyes moving to the leg that she was trying to heal. Scar came beside her, and when he whispered about being able to see everything, she turned her head to him. “What do you see?” she then whispered back, but Bandit popped up a few minutes later. With a wave of her hand, the vines disappeared and Mariela stayed on her knees, her hands holding onto Bandit’s shoulders. “Bandit, it’s okay.” she said, her face growing to concern when she said she couldn’t breathe.

Mariela grabbed and pulled Bandit into a hug, holding her as her eyes stared at Habib and Raul, her eyes shooting daggers into Raul. “Bandit, it’s okay. You’re safe.” she spoke, her voice calm and soothing as she held Bandit in a hug. When Raul turned around and walked away, Mariela’s eyes followed him until he had disappeared. She then pulled away from Bandit so Habid could pick her up. “Take care of her, and whatever you do, don’t let Raul touch her again.” she spoke.

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She looked up when Scar held his hand, giving him a smile before she put her hand in his and stood up. When Scar spoke, she gave another smile and nodded her head, before turning to look at Habib. “If you need anything, or she needs help or anything, you can come see me anytime you want. But, please, keep her away from Raul.” she spoke, before turning back to Scar.

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She gave him a smile, nodding her head. “Let’s go… my Scar.” she said, fully aware she used the word “my” to describe him, and she just ended up grinning. She turned to motion to Tessa and her brothers, telling them to follow, and after the trio all looked at each other with raised eyebrows at the way they called each other “my”, they shrugged before following behind the two.

 

 

A Royal affair – Fable of Swords.

 

“A Royal Affair” 

 

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Razorbackwriter: 

Approaching one of the balcony’s of the grand stone building, Lady Dominique now had a perfect viewing platform for the great castle of the King. As the breeze teased her red curls, that fell down off her shoulder, she let out a soft sigh. The King was up there, probably in his grand chamber. No doubt surrounded by his adored children. The Prince and Princess. Already she had seen those in the streets and in some of the grander houses sporting black garb. It was like they couldn’t wait for the King to take his final breath. It actually sickened her to the core. Dominique knew how much the King loved colours. She could remember his voice, as though he was standing in behind her now. Resting his hand on her shoulder so that she might clasp her hand over the top of it. One of those private moments, that she held deep within her heart. Their relationship would cause massive scandals if it were to be revealed. Of course, all believed him to be a good and devout King, and he was….he just had a taste for red heads, and one in particular. Dominique dragged her fingers along the harsh surface of the stone railing as she kept thinking of him. What made her heart ache even more was…he had not called for her. Why? The bastard child of his brother, his niece….his lover. That is what she was, though to society she was regarded as a business woman and a lady of great wealth. Oh, the King did help start her off, but she discovered the ability on which to read people. To seek out those that could only enhance her wealth and stature. Now she had enough gold, enough houses to rival any Duchess or Baroness. Her dead husband gave her nothing but a name. She had bore no children, and probably never would. There were secret desires to carry the King’s child, but she knew that any child that was of his name, would be a bastard and most likely killed by the Prince.

Since her husband’s untimely death, Dominique had a line of suitors a mile long. For one, her beauty was well spoken of, not to mention her vast wealth and connections. She should be happy to receive tributes and proposals daily, but alas she was not. Dominique couldn’t bring herself to love another man. The King had her heart from the moment he bedded her and stole her virginity. What would her cousin, the Princess have to say about that? Thankfully, neither of her cousins knew. Both the King and Dominique were careful to hide their affair from prying eyes. The only one that knew, was Tim – her man servant. A eunuch that she had bought on a trip to the east. He had served her faithfully and loyally as she treated him with a respect she held for few men. He was more than a slave, more than an adviser. Tim was her eyes and ears beyond the Market walls. The juicy tit bits that he brought back to whisper into her ear, was worth its weight in gold, and helped her to manipulate certain situations, that might turn scandalous, if she had not gotten involved. Everyone had a price, and Dominique was more than willing to buy a few souls in order for her to gain more power and influence. A human she may be, but a devious and crafty one at that.

But what is wealth when the one thing you want most so desperately, lay just out of your reach? Green eyes filled with sadness as she stared up at the black flags that had taken over from the royal crest. Another sign that the King was dying.

“I should be there.” Her voice wistful and full of regret.

“My Lady, if you were would you be able to mask your true feelings from prying eyes. The royals are not stupid.”

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Tim came up behind his Mistress and looked upon her fondly. Her soft silken dress lifting and dancing in the breeze like gossamer wings. A beauty standing in her ivory tower – ever longing for what she can’t have. Tim exhaled softly as his Mistress gave no response. She was thinking….she was always thinking. Lady Dominique patted the stone rail, then turned towards her man servant. His heart near stopped a beat to see that she had tears in her eyes. Lady Dominique De Shay never cried. Not even on news of the death of her husband. That time….she laughed. Odd how emotions react in such strange ways.

“I envy them, Tim. They are probably sitting on his bed right now, taking his hand. Listening to his words.” Dominique’s head shook slightly as she reached up and wiped away a single falling tear. Rare was it to see this soft underbelly, from what was a ruthless business woman. It was just then as she realized what she had said, that she suddenly grit her teeth. Sadness quickly changing to anger. Her eyes were still cast down, but her small hands were curling into fists.

“So swear it if he dies before I get to tell him I love him …..” Her words trailed off as Tim reached out to touch her arm, to try and help her through this. Dominique pulled away and snarled. “…their house…will be cursed.” Did Dominique even have it in her power to do such a thing? Tim drew his hand back and bowed his head as Dominique turned her head back to the direction of the castle. Lady Domi raised her head proudly, her chest swelling as she strengthened her resolve.

“I may be a bastard child…but I was loved by a King.”

 

~RB~

The Foundations – Build me up Buttercup.

 

This song is so easy to sing a long too.  Go on…give it a try.  -smiles-

 

 

“Build Me Up Buttercup”

Why do you build me up (build me up) Buttercup, baby
Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around
And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby
When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’
You know that I have from the start
So build me up (build me up) Buttercup, don’t break my heart

“I’ll be over at ten”, you told me time and again
But you’re late, I wait around and then (bah-dah-dah)
I went to the door, I can’t take any more
It’s not you, you let me down again

(Hey, hey, hey!) Baby, baby, try to find
(Hey, hey, hey!) A little time and I’ll make you mine
(Hey, hey, hey!) I’ll be home
I’ll be beside the phone waiting for you
Ooo-oo-ooo, ooo-oo-ooo

Why do you build me up (build me up) Buttercup, baby
Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around
And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby
When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’
You know that I have from the start
So build me up (build me up) Buttercup, don’t break my heart

You were my toy but I could be the boy you adore
If you’d just let me know (bah-dah-dah)
Although you’re untrue, I’m attracted to you all the more
Why do I need you so

(Hey, hey, hey!) Baby, baby, try to find
(Hey, hey, hey!) A little time and I’ll make you mine
(Hey, hey, hey!) I’ll be home
I’ll be beside the phone waiting for you
Ooo-oo-ooo, ooo-oo-ooo

Why do you build me up (build me up) Buttercup, baby
Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around
And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby
When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’
You know that I have from the start
So build me up (build me up) Buttercup, don’t break my heart

I-I-I need you-oo-oo more than anyone, baby
You know that I have from the start
So build me up (build me up) Buttercup, don’t break my heart

Reminiscing – SS.

 

Dressing for the Ball of Greed brings about smiles and memories.  Some that the Good Doctor had locked away forever.

Scene setting : Hell’s Kitchen.

Co-written with Temp and Moo.

 

Temp:  Roxanne hadn’t expected Loc to start spinning her like a toy, but it happened regardless. Her body went spinning around the room wildly until Loc finally stopped her. The fact he started to hold her in a rather loving embrace was interesting to say the least, but it wasn’t something that bothered her. Him staring at her boobs wasn’t surprising considering his previous actions, and if anything it was flattering. “You really like these things don’t you?” Her head tilted forward to look down at her own chest after she spoke. She wasn’t sure what the Doctor and Narcissa were up to, but she was becoming more and more curious.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

Hell’s Kitchen – The Guest room

Wilhelm offered a light smile when Narcissa became excited over the offered dresses. It wasn’t easy to find a dress for a girl of such gigantic proportions. Fortunately, the Doctor kept good stock, better than any department store. It didn’t surprise the Doctor in the least that Narcissa would find favor with the black number that featured silver trimming. Dotted with pieces or fragments of metal, it radiated the light like tiny diamonds upon a black velvet night. Holding the dress firmly between his finger tips so that it would not drag on the ground, Wilhelm’s temperament altered slightly. The Frankenstein like creature was bubbling over with excitement as she wriggled out of her lab coat. Her cries of “This one, this one.” Making him chuckle. The creature tore the dress right out from his hold and then slipped it over h er bandage covered body. The dress truly as the perfect fit, even if it did accentuate her bosom a little more than it should. Struggling to reach the zipper, Narcissa looked awkward, like she needed to have double joints to reach. Ever the gentleman, Wilhelm offered to get in behind her and do her zip up for her. His long black nails caught the zipper catch and slowly he brought the zip up till it reached the top. A small clasp needed to be tapped together, and the Doctor made sure it was on firmly. Giving it a light pat when done, he stood back and enthused. “You truly will be the Belle of the Ball.” The Doctor meant every word, before he himself realized it was time to get ready. “Why don’t you go and see how Roxanne is fairing, my dear.” If she took him at his word, he would open the door for her to go and find the odd couple. Once she was gone, the Doctor let out a small sigh. His eyes darted across the room to a picture of a beautiful woman. The one that he had planned to spend the rest of eternity with….the one that he managed to save from death…..just.

Hell’s Kitchen – The Fitting room

“You really like these things don’t you?” Roxanne asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. The Creation was practically hypnotized by the sight of them and the poor girl was going to need a bib to cover them if the soldier kept drooling on them. “Loc…like!” Stating the obvious. Loc managed to tear his gaze away from Roxanne’s bosom to her face. He seemed to realize he had been holding her in the same pose for a while now, and finally decided to put her down. With all the bandages removed, they were on a pile on the floor, and now it was Roxanne’s turn to get dressed up. Loc was all fit and ready to go.

~RB~

 

Moo:  Narcissa’s frequent turning slowed to a stop, her head bobbling slightly as though she were dizzy. Luckily enough, the Good Doctor was quite the gentleman, as he stepped behind her to help zip up the fine looking dress. The female monster held up her long, blue locks of hair so none would snag in the meantime. “Thank you, Doctor!” she said lightheartedly. The light patting on her back was pleasant, giving a softness to her smile for a moment. She dropped her arms, hair falling back into place over the back of her dress. She turned to face the man as he complimented her beauty. Narcissa wasn’t quite one piece; not normal by any means…but it was lovely to be seen as such by someone. Her fingers lifted to brush against the long since stitched part of her face, running from her cheek across her nose, and to the bone of the other. Blue eyes lifted to see Wilhelm’s face while he suggested checking on Roxanne. The idea was more than enough to excite the Frankensteinian girl.

“Okay!” she said simply, brightening up. As chipper as ever, she waited for the Doctor to open the door for her, and gave him a wave before running through to look for the couple. He had sent them to the fitting room…she knew where that was! It only took a few minutes before she arrived in the doorway. “Roxanne!” she sang out in the woman’s favorite tune. The song the lab had often played simply for enjoyment. She lifted her arms to show her excitement, a rather wide grin placed over her lips. “We found one that fits!” She danced across the floor, holding onto an invisible partner. She came to a stop in front of Loc and looked him up and down quite obviously with slightly wide eyes and with a mouth gaping open. “You did really good!” Narcissa told the nurse. “He looks good!”

Temp:  Roxanne was actually starting to find the attention Loc gave her…desirable. Feeling desired and being fawned over felt very nice, even from someone like Loc. She knew he was attracted to her, and was even more so attracted to her boobs. It wasn’t like she never got compliments or looks before, but this was different. Something felt wrong, or missing from her life. She had always found herself to be happy and cheerful regardless of what was going on, but maybe that was a bad thing. There was never anything she did for herself. She was a creation of sorts, and she had an owner, so such a thing wasn’t something that was normally considered. For the first time she could remember, she was starting to feel…depressed.

Narcissa joining her and Loc went unnoticed for a fair bit of time. Roxanne stood completely still and simply stared at the floor with her head tilted down. Why hadn’t the Doctor picked out a dress for her? Why did he want her to go with someone else? Why was she even feeling this way? Her thoughts were all over the place, but she would eventually snap out of it thanks to Narcissa’s constant enthusiasm.“You can pick out a dress for me if you’d like, Narcissa.” Maybe that would help make Narcissa more excited and happy. She knew that her being made use of was thrilling to her, and she loved the silly girl, so why not make her happy? If the Doctor wanted to go with her then so be it. Narcissa was a lovely creature. She deserved it.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

Hell’s Kitchen – The Doctor’s chambers

~I sold my soul for one last dance……….~

The doctor had purposely sent Narcissa to check on Roxanne and Loc. He wanted time alone and wandered down the hall to his own chambers – the one place where he had absolute solitude. The doctor never allowed his creatures or creations to enter this place. Even Igor had not been beyond the door. Why, you might wonder?

Undoing the lock, the doctor turned the handle and then entered his suite. A black velvet curtain covered the entrance to the inner domain to block out the light from the hall. To also stop peering eyes. What the creations didn’t know of the Doctor was a dark secret. Sure, he showed his best side when in their company. The Doctor was the Creator, a man of great talent and skill that was unsurpassed by many in his field. His contemporaries in the ‘other’ world all thought he was a crazed lunatic. The idea of reanimation of dead tissue to be science fiction. His theories mocked and his ideas laughed at. Oh, but how wrong they were.

The room was unlike anything else in Hell’s kitchen. A large four poster bed was at one end, that looked like it had not been slept in. A tall floor mirror stood to one side with a woman’s dressing table with three mirrors and a black satin covered stool. On the dresser were a brush set with ivory handles all laid out neatly, a silver jewel box that when you opened had a ballerina that twirled around to a delightful tune. The doctor walked over to stand before the mirror, not bothering to look up – but instead he was staring at the jewel box. He lifted the lid as the ballerina started to dance. Slowly twirling in time to the tune. The doctor closed his eyes tight, as though the song brought back memories…of when she used to dance. Of when….they used to dance.

 

~Haunting voice~ “You have two left feet, Wil.”

A tear ran down the Doctor’s face as he started to dance with his lover in his mind.

 

~RB~