Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Mary: Decrypted

February 26th, 2009:

In this, the third to last post in this archive, I have decided to decrypt the entire compilation of posts so that the world will know everything that occurred up to and including that fateful night in Kyoto, Japan. There is no point in keeping what transpired secret any longer. I will leave Mrs. Howland's sidebar on the right for sentimental reasons.

I have done my best to adapt what we've written and place it in blog format, using blogger.com as a template. I will link it to various blog compilation sites but do little to actually promote it. I have a feeling it will find its way into the proper hands all on its own.

A note on language: Some of what was said in this post was originally in Japanese. It was either translated by Fukimitsu or Yoshida at the time, or conveyed to me afterward.


Continuing where Emperor Komei left off:

As the rain began to pour down on the castle in thick sheets, the Magician strode through the piles of wriggling bodies and down some steps into the bowels of the castle followed by a parade of Smilers carrying antique steamer trunks. Meanwhile, Hollis meandered over to Emperor Komei, who was pinned but still struggling under no less than six Smilers.

Hollis cleared his throat and said politely, "If you will pardon me, your majesty, my master would like to extend you every courtesy before the show. He offers you time to care for your men medically as well as the opportunity to bathe and change into fresh clothes. I understand that officially surrendering is anathema to you, but would it not be more comfortable to view the magic show from chairs instead of where you are presently?"

Emperor Komei scowled, his eyes burning with rage, and with a supreme effort he freed his right hand, grasped one of the Smilers by the face and squeezed, its head exploding in a shower of skull and brains. Without a word, three more Smilers piled on, immobilizing him once more.

Nodding patiently, Hollis bent down next to the nearest samurai held helplessly next to the Emperor. With one hand he carefully reached down and pried the soldier's jaws open, then held his other hand an inch over his face. In the next moment, giant, wriggling centipedes poured out from inside his shirt-sleeve and clawed their way into the poor man's mouth, his neck bulging hideously as they crawled down his throat. The samurai twitched and struggled, slowly turned purple, his eyes wide with pain and horror, and then was still.

Hollis turned and smiled at the Emperor. After a long moment, finally, Emperor Komei nodded.

All of the Smilers rose then, releasing all of us, and we scrambled unsteadily to our feet. Hollis said, "You will be escorted to the baths. Medical supplies will be provided, as will dinner. The show begins at midnight."

Josh, rubbing his shoulder from where a Smiler had laid hard upon him, growled, "How? How the hell did he get in here? There was no blood! We searched everyone, no centipedes got in... so how?"

"It can't hurt to tell you now, Mr. Howland." Hollis stepped gingerly over the bloated, centipede-stuffed corpse and over to Josh, carefully taking the Magician's knife from his hand. "The 'rabbit out of a hat' trick. You know when it was first performed?"

"1831. Of course."

Hollis nodded, his smile widening in anticipation. "And you know where?"

Growing impatient, Josh snapped, "England. Get to it, would you? Wouldn't want to miss the 'show', now would we?"

If anything, Hollis slowed down, stepping even closer, his eyes dancing with sadistic mirth. "And where in England, precisely? Do you know?"

Josh shook his head. "No... probably some place with a high rabbit population, I suppose. Someplace relatively rural..." Slowly, realization dawned on his face. "Oh, no. Oh, God... Worcester?"

Hollis' yellow smile seemed to almost split his face in half. Josh continued, dazed, "My... my family on my mother's side is from Worcester. They built their fortune in the glove industry there..."

"Rabbit fur gloves, to be precise." Hollis hissed. Josh put his hands to his head, stunned, and I put my arm around him, holding him tight. Hollis went on, reveling in the moment. "You are not only descended from Leopold, you are of my master's line as well."

Sinking to his knees, still holding his head, Josh moaned. "His blood. His blood runs through my veins." With dawning realization, he gazed up at Hollis. "You weren't trying to kill me. Like Crayton that night on Wardang Island, you were driving me. You hounded me, pushed me to Hitoshirezu-jo. It was all to bring me here and lull Emperor Komei into trusting me so that he would invite me into the sacred castle willingly."

Hollis knelt as well, putting his face only inches from Josh's. "Your blood is the Magician's blood. That iron will of yours and your mother's? That's from him. Your blood... your very soul... he owns them, boy." He rose then and straightened his red-stained tie. "And tonight he's going to collect."


Hours later we soaked in the spacious steam-filled baths of the castle, the water in the tubs so volcanically hot that Josh and I had to submerge ourselves a half-inch at a time so our bodies would adjust. While everyone was naked and I was the only woman, I wasn't given a second glance, first because apparently in their culture it wasn't uncommon for men and women to bathe together, and second because everyone was too exhausted and defeated to be able to muster up the energy to leer.

We spoke little, spending our time dressing wounds, administering medicine and resting. After a couple of hours we were told that dinner was served, and the thirty or so of us limped off to a large dining area decorated with priceless Japanese antiques and artwork. We ate sparingly, the only conversation of note taking place between Yoshida and Josh, who was attempting to raise his own spirits by talking:


JOSH: Maybe that's why Japan is so crazy. The outside world that invaded is infecting the place, warping the people's minds, and they can't handle it.

YOSHIDA: Japan is not crazy. It only appears that way to a gaijin.

JOSH: You sell soiled panties out of vending machines. You drink curry, cucumber and eel-flavored colas. Your game shows violate the Geneva Convention. Seemingly every one of your cartoons has at least once scene where a schoolgirl gets violated by a tentacle.

I stand by my statement. With all due respect, you people are f*cking crazy.

YOSHIDA: (pause) You may have a point.

MARY: Amazing. Even at the end of the world, you two still find the time to talk about tentacle rape.


We ate as comfortably as possible while being surrounded and stared at by a mob of elderly people with demented grins on their faces, dried blood on their hands and red-spattered "#1 Grandma!" shirts on. The time passed too quickly, and soon it was almost midnight.

Hollis entered the dining hall, his gore-soaked white suit having been replaced with a pristine duplicate. "Attention, if you please! The magic show is about to begin! Please make your way to the sacred shrine in the rear of the castle!"

With a reluctant nod from Emperor Komei, the men shuffled off down the corridor. Josh, Yoshida and I were the last ones to go, and Hollis put out a hand to bar us at the dining hall door. "Mr. Howland, your great-great-great-great grandfather politely requests your assistance for the show, if you would be so kind to accompany me backstage."

I could see in Josh's face that he considered refusing, but he quickly did the math and saw that resistance at this point was useless. He turned to me with a wan smile and kissed me gently on the lips and the forehead. "I wish the Emperor could have married us before... before this."

Gazing into his eyes, I tried to think of something to say, finding nothing. The two of us held each other for a long while, kissed again, and with a smile and a tear he and Hollis walked off down the corridor in the opposite direction, disappearing around the corner.

With a nudge from a paunchy, Hispanic, smiling ship's cook, Yoshida and I made our way to the shrine.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Cynthia: Magus

/RUN

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He is coming. We heard a noise and Detective Ward went downstairs to see, though I begged him not to. There are footsteps now, coming back up the stairs. Detective Ward? Detective? Gar###


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It is his body. Detective Ward's pistol has been forced down his throat with only the very tip of the hand grip showing. Oh, God. Another good man. How many? Oh, God. I see you in the hallway, Garrett. The lights are out but I recognize your silhouette. Come in, Garrett. Come in. I know that you are not the Magician. Yes, that's right. My, you have changed. What a great, big smile you have. Do stand aside, Garrett, and let your master in. Now, you. Magician. The Great Gagasti. Come and stand before me, monster. Did you believe I would beg? Did you imagine I would ever surrender to you? I am made of sterner stuff, as is my son. I do thank you for one thing: before this I never knew for certain if Joshua had the same cold iron running through his veins. Now I know, and I die knowing that he will destroy you utterly. Do not lurk out in the hall, Magician. Come to me. Come sit by me as you have so many times before, Jeffrey. Leopold really did do his best. The paintings were a spirited attempt. Eighteen thirty-one. So many clues, and how you must have laughed. Was it merely to taunt us, or does the date have more meaning? How you grinned when you recommended a new tea set for the dining room. Gorham silver, how you insisted upon it. Gorham silver, founded in eighteen thirty-one. How you must have enjoyed offering me the use of your apartment after I was attacked by your minion, knowing that I would refuse but mentioning that I might find your pet beagle irritating should I actually accept. In eighteen thirty-one, Charles Darwin embarked on his historic voyage to the Galapagos Islands aboard the HMS Beagle. Eighteen thirty-one. So many clues. You were such a magnificent actor. Your one slip was your expression when you shot your minion. You should have looked horrified, but instead you appeared only annoyed. But it was the only blemish on an otherwise virtuoso performance. Did you insure that Independence First would send a parade of dunces to me before you swept in, guaranteeing that I would select you to be my caregiver? You were wonderful, Jeffrey. I believed in you. I###


ERROR. PLEASE PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY. PLEASE REPEAT WORD. ERROR.


I am not grieving for myself. These tears are for you, Jeffrey. Not for the Great Gagasti or whatever you call yourself. These tears are for Jeffrey. I grieve for the good, kind, intelligent, educated man I knew. I pity you, Magician. You are far less than your own artifice. You have nothing to say? Very well. Sit a minute. I do appreciate you allowing me this, despite it all. Joshua, Mary... I know you will defeat him. I have not the slightest doubt. In truth, I never planned on continuing to live once I had my revenge for Scott. Oh, Scott, at least now I can be with you once again. No one made me laugh like you, my love. Mary, look after my son, now. He is rising from his chair. Very well, Jeffrey. No time to edit what I have written? Now that is cruel, you know how I prefer to have every "T" crossed and every "I" he is staring at me. His eyes are so dark. They are dark as... they are black. Even in this darkened room they are like twin ebon fires burning. The darkness... such Stygian hate, such malevolence... how could a thing such as you ever even pretend to know love? It moved. From the corner of my eye I saw it. It did it again. My finger. My index finger moved. I could not feel it but I saw it. Again. My hand twitched. My God, I can move my###


VOLUME ERROR: RECOMMENDED VOLUME EXCEEDED. PLEASE SPEAK MORE SOFTLY SO THAT THE DRAGON NATURALLYSPEAKING PREFERRED SOFTWARE'S PATENTED VOICE RECOGNITION SOFTWARE CAN RECOGNIZE YOUR VOCAL PATTERN. THIS VOLUME ERROR IDENTIFICATION CAN BE EASILY REMOVED FROM YOUR DOCUMENT IN EDIT MODE.


The fingers of my hand are moving. They are... they are pulling. My hand is... dragging itself. My own right hand is pulling itself up to my face. Stop it. Make it stop. My hand is clawing, pulling at my robe up my chest. Burn in Hell. Burn in Hell, monster. My fingers are pawing at my chin, trying to climb up on my face and into my###


ERROR. PLEASE PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY. PLEASE REPEAT WORD. ERROR.


He smiles that smile. Damn you forever. Kill him. Kill him. My own hand crawling###


ERROR. PLEASE PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY. PLEASE REPEAT WORD. ERROR.


Fingers in my mouth. I###


ERROR. PLEASE PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY. PLEASE REPEAT WORD. ERROR.


I###


ERROR. PLEASE PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY. PLEASE REPEAT WORD. ERROR.


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Friday, January 30, 2009

Yoshida: 23

Well played.


On another subject, having had the great pleasure of abandoning my research into so-called "practical" magic, I amazingly enough found myself inspired by Howland's tedious, interminable account of his attempt and failure to originally acquire the Magician's knife in the sunken Liberator. There was a section where he described the actions of Crayton inside the vessel:

"With the flourish and panache of a stage magician, he opened his sleeves to show me there was nothing inside of them, then a moment later he extended his arms in our direction and bubbles began to appear from his cuffs. There were only a few at first, then there were so many bubbles that it was like watching jets from a Jacuzzi."

It was this "nothing up my sleeve" gesture as well as the style of the Magician's disappearing trick described in Taras' post that made me consider that perhaps some clues as to our adversary's methodology could be gleaned not from the study of that gibberish pseudo-science of Crowley's, but oddly-enough, instead from actual performance magic.

Of course, these books are talking about mere tricks: slight of hand, misdirection and so forth, but my hope is that I might discover some small nugget of information that we might find valuable.

Frankly, it's only because there is so little need for me at my uncles' business at the moment that I am even busying myself with this research, but I must occupy my mind somehow.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Yoshida: 20

My study of "practical" magic has been the most boring and degrading endeavor of my existence thus far, with the possible exception of reading one of Howland's staggeringly long and impossibly self-indulgent posts. Are you unaware of the editing functions on your computer? Three dead, Crayton escaped and you failed to acquire the knife. That's all that really needs to be said, yet you slog on through page after agonizing page.

Regardless, my research into "magic" has been a complete waste of time. Every so-called "sorcerer" merely attempts to drape the trappings of science over impenetrable jargon and scrambled words. I have read the scribblings of Crowley (below, laughably attempting to appear arcane and imposing) and Gardner, studied astrology and even explored Kabbalah, the imbecilic gibberish cult promoted by your dried-up Western whore, Madonna.

All of it is rubbish.

I am beyond frustrated. I am abandoning this line of study and returning to my job. My uncles are displeased enough with me taking as much time off as I have as it is. When there is something worth investigating, let me know.