Comatose Daydream, the Traveler's Absence

 The Traveler is comatose. He has been for some months, but it's taken some time to figure out his password. It started after New Year's.  The Traveler disappeared some time ago in Mid-October.  Shortly after the Solstice and what the humans call Christmas, there were rumors of his return.  A post I found here seems to corroborate that.  Two days after what was to be his return to school, the Voice which he has often referred to as a faceless lady crashed a very important masquerade ball. As you can imagine, having no face draws more attention in such a situation than the most garish mask. A la “Masque of the Red Death”, silence fell where she walked as she approached the Unseelie Queen and whispered something in her ear. The color drained from the ballroom and the music stopped. She hastily announced the ball was over and that there was to be court immediately.

Most of the fae disappeared into the shadows along with the ballroom and the Queen's throne materialized in the center. We all knelt as she set, but she uncharacteristically bade us all rise. This was serious. The Voice stepped onto the dais upon which the throne sat and addressed us.

“As you are all aware, the Traveler has not been seen for some time,” she began, “I know that many of you have no interest in the daydream, and even that some of you wish he had never been involved in the court to begin with.”

Silence greeted this, as though they were afraid to confirm or deny her statement.

“I am also aware that he has been invited to court on several occasions, some of which he has declined on account of obligations to the Boy Scouts and other human organizations.”

We didn't really know where she was going with this. The Voice turned to the Unseelie Queen.

“I trust that you are still indebted to the Traveler for the Creative Spark which he recovered for you.”

The Queen slowly nodded. In case you don't know, debts are serious business in the world of the fae. For the Voice to bring up her debt to another it had to be serious business. Any other circumstance would be so crass as to make it grounds for dueling. She turned back to us.

“Then, on the Daydream's behalf, I ask the repayment of this debt.”

There was a pregnant silence for a moment. Then, the Queen rose and said, “What must we do?”

“The Traveler lives with his family an hour away to the east when he isn't here,” the Voice replied, “He should have returned to school two days ago. I would know why he has not, but I am bound to this town until the longest night. I have his phone number, but his phone has been dead for nigh two weeks. My request is thus: that you send an agent to see to his well-being. That agent will then report to me and then in turn carry a message to the Traveler should I require it. Upon the completion of this task, your debt shall not be repaid, but the responsibility for it be transferred to me, leaving you without further obligation. Do you accept?”

“And what of our restrictions?” the Queen asked, “Our kind may not enter a dwelling without permission of one of the occupants.”

“There is one among you,” the Voice said, “Which has standing permission to come to the Traveler wherever he may be.”

They both turned their gazes (figuratively for the Voice) to me. Dammit if I didn't know this was coming from the moment she opened her... started speaking.

“I am willing, Your Majesty,” I sighed, “if that is your wish.”

“It is,” she replied turning back to the Voice, “Then I believe our business is settled?”

“Yes it is,” came the Voice's response, “I can see myself out.”

And she did just that. I met the gaze of the Queen.

“I suppose I'll see to her task, then, Your Majesty.”

“See that you do, Pocketwatch.”

I returned to the Traveler's dorm room to gather what few things I kept there as well as the materials for a flight glamor. (He keeps his stores of magical reagents well-stocked for someone who distrusts magic.) For the past five or so months, I have been living as him. Initially we used a fetch to mask his sudden disappearance, but fetches are strictly short-term. Replace the person, get sick, die, leave no trace. That wouldn't do for him if he was coming back. Using one was actually part of the repayment of that debt as he had asked that we mask any extended absences. The Traveler was gone so long, I (being the closest thing he has in the Unseelie Court to a friend, and he being the only living thing I actually trust) volunteered to wrap myself in a glamor of him and live as a changeling until hopefully his return.

The next evening, I wrapped myself in the form of an owl and flew the distance to his home. The front door opened for me in spite of being locked, which because of his request indicated that he was indeed there. I checked the rooms one by one. Living room, small kitchen, some kind of office, a bathroom, another kind of office, linen closet, some other kind of closet. A ha! Bedroom.

The first thing I saw was the Traveler on a bed by a window. He was on his back, asleep. Around the bed was a circle of white material. Knowing him, salt. I stepped forward to inspect the circle for breaks. And then I couldn't move my arms. With my higher eyes, I was suddenly aware of the flare of an aura. It was a strange gunmetal streaked with glowing oranges, luminous yellows, and the occasional verdant green. The air took on the scent of burning oil. A short (for a human) mostly bald man holding a book and an equally short red-headed woman stepped out of nothing, both staring at me intently.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked, “What do you want with our son?”

The kid has parents. Magical ones. Who knew?

“Just checking up on him,” I say casually, “It's a favor for a woman with no face.”

They shared a glance, then the woman, his mother, looked me in the eyes. Her expression was one of mixed motherly concern and nigh-excited curiosity.

"Has one of the Voices has taken an interest in him?” she inquired, “We weren't aware there were any about in Arkansas."

“As far as I know, yes. Now since you see I mean no harm, do you mind undoing the binding? My arms are getting sore.”

Her eyes flashed pink and I smelled a sweet, milky scent and my arms fell to my sides.

“What happened to him?”

“He was stabbed with a cursed blade,” his father replied, “He isn't dead, but neither of us know what the enchantment is or how to break it. Not yet, anyway”

I stepped around them over to the edge of the salt circle. From this close, I could see the guard of a small pocketknife protruding from his chest.. It was a matte black like it was sucking the light out of the air around it. I would assume the blade was the same. My higher eyes saw it as a knife-shaped hole in the air.

“You haven't even pulled it out?”

“Basic first aid,” his mother responded, “Never take something out if you don't know how to treat the wound.  It might make it worse.  He's still alive, and that's the most important thing for the moment.”

I couldn't argue with that logic.

The Traveler's parents bade me stay for supper before I departed and we took the opportunity to swap stories. Apparently his father has some kind of “mortal peril sensor” which allows him to scry on his kid when he's in the aforementioned mortal peril. The Traveler doesn't seem to have any idea what they are. His dad's descended of wizards. It's been dormant for a while, but the talent manifested in him. His mom's what my people call the “Victoriana”, commonly called flower faeries. The bane of our existence. They were born from the dreams of little girls in Victorian England and have persisted since. She seems pretty cool in spite of that. This explains the daydream thing. And the power.

Afterward, I left to report to rhe Voice. Her usual haunt is beneath the sign of a little taco joint just off the University's campus. Lo and behold, there she was, smoking her usual unusual turquoise-flame cigarettes.

“All right,” she said after I informed her of the Traveler's fate, “I'll need to speak with the other voices, but this has the Evil written all over it. I will have a message for his parents, but for the moment you're free. Thanks very much, Mr. Pocketwatch.”

And then she disappeared in that infuriatingly comedic way that Voices can do when they're feeling mischievous (which is pretty much all the time for some of them). She slowly faded out, leaving behind a grin which hadn't been there before, and eventually that too faded. And all that was left was me, having nothing left to do but wonder what the hell she meant and keep living my semi-stolen life.

Until she called me back, that was.

The Evil that Followed Me Home

Normally I try to ignore C's ramblings, but it's hard to do so when they suddenly become relevant.  (And by C, I mean the other author, not the completely awesome follower.)  Late July, he mentioned Phantom Cars.  Personally, I'd never encountered one.  I don't really get angry that often.  But tonight, one almost ran me over.

I was on foot.  It was about midnight and I was walking home from Taco Bell.  The street between the Hearth and campus was empty.  I walked.  I was to the third lane over from the school when something bowled me over from behind.  I flew forward to the sound of a revving engine and the noxious scent of exhaust permeated the air.  I was still in the road and clearly there were cars, so I scrambled to my feet.  I was suddenly yanked backward by my collar to land on my butt.  A car rushed past right in front of me, where I had only moments ago stood.

As it passed, I became aware of the Faceless Lady standing on the curb.  It was the first one with the coat but sans the cigarette.  She immediately rushed forward, grabbed my arm and hauled me forward and off the road as another car rushed through the lane in which I had been sitting.  Once I was up on the curb, I turned to see what had almost hit me.  It was a shiny black car, which quickly faded from sight (and I mean "shimmer, shimmer, not there anymore").  Immediately, it reappeared in the lane closest to me and sped through before fading out for the last time.  It had but one yellow headlight, no driver, and left muddy hoofprints on the road as it passed.

C was telling the truth, it seems.  But I wasn't angry, so why attack me?

"The Evil sent it after you," came a voice from behind me.  It sounded like Bernardette Peters if she were a chain smoker and was accompanied by glossolalic whispers.  

The Faceless Lady spoke.

I was incredulous.  I stared at her blank face.  

"It followed you home," her disembodied voice added, "You did not go to it across the River, so it crossed for you.  Didn't Squeak warn you?"

And then she turned and walked away, leaving me to figure out just what was going on. 

Side Note:  The hitchhiker-type is still out by the entrance of my dorm when viewed through the Brittney Glasses.  People walk right through him, but I'm still worried about going anywhere near him.  Last time I made contact with anything like him, I was given visions and had nightmares for a week.  Still don't know what that's about..

It's Been a While. And It Will Be Yet.

Things have been pretty quiet in my little college town for the past little while.  The Seelie Court took over in full at Beltaine (about May 1).  They don't like to deal with outsiders as much as the Unseelie so I imagine it will be a while yet before I get invited to meet with them. (And the next transitional period doesn't start until Lughnasadh (sometime thereabout August 1)).  A pity, really.  I had been hoping to get to know them more than my one weeklong dancing spree.


The end of the school year sort of snuck up on me.  Thankfully, nothing decided to rear its ugly head in that time.  Still, I had four monologues to learn, countless sculptures to make, and three legitimate written finals to study for.  It wasn't difficult, but things were complicated somewhat when I got sick and missed one, the merciful rescheduling of which extended my tests another day and a half.  And in this time, I got subpoena'd to testify against my old kiddie-perving demon roommate.  No sooner did I get served, than the prosecutor's office called to tell me it's been rescheduled to July.  So at least that didn't mess with my tests, like it originally would have (take place on the last day of them).  On the bright side, I got 5 A's and 1 B.  My cumulative GPA is now exceptionally high (over 3.7).


Moving out wasn't too easy.  I got everything out all right, but my RA took forever to check me out and he always found more dirt where there wasn't any (which he attested to himself) before.  I'm not gonna call that supernatural, but it was certainly annoying.  Then I had to wait almost an hour outside the building where the Theatrical Art classroom is located to collect my supplies.  It didn't take long to get them, but the waiting and having to inconvenience my professor didn't help my mood.  Plus I had to transport the cursed bracelet which probably didn't help my day.  Incidentally, I found a way to uncurse it and will do so by running it under moving springwater this summer, but I'll get to that in a minute.  Then I had to go and sell my books back.  For wholesale.  But seeing how they're the only game in town, I was railroaded.  I went back to my car to get a form to turn into the registrar and a seat full of stuff fell out.  A lot of things broke and/or spilled.  By this point, I was very, very annoyed and started throwing things in.  Then something awesome happened.  Objects started flinging themselves back into the car!  Apparently I have telekinetic tendencies (but I haven't tried again since I calmed down, so maybe it's an emotional thing).  It didn't improve my mood then (especially with all the other bad things that crossed my path shortly after), but it was pretty darn cool.  


On a completely unrelated note to anything, one of my bestest friends in the Universe saw the first Faceless Lady.  She was walking away from my friend and she heard glossolalic whispers coming from behind her.  So now others have seen her and maybe we can get to know more about her.


I'm home now and like I said before, I'm not too involved in local fortean happenings.  So things have been pretty quiet thus far.  Next week on Friday, I'm going to BSA National Camping School and then on to work at Camp Orr until July 3.  There's a lot of weird stuff out there and I hope to tell all about it on this blog when I get back.  Until then, I've got a friend who's going to hijack this thing and tell a bit of his own goings on.  You'll love it.  I swear.


See you in July!

Faceless Humor

4/20 today.  That means two things:  1) Marijuana smokers around the world have yet another reason to get baked.  2) It's Adolf Hitler's birthday.  (or as I prefer to call it, "Holy Crap!  It's Hitler!  Day".)  Neither are really any cause for celebration for me, but as anyone who knows be can tell you, all I need is an excuse to paint my face.  And I must say that I make the "Egyptian Death Mask" look look good.  There was something else that simultaneously tickled my funny bone and made me gasp in surprise. 

It was the first Faceless Lady, the one who's always smoking the strange cigarettes.  I saw her while coming back from a late-night jaunt to the store to get windshield wiper blades.  She was under the taco joint's sign like normal.  She wasn't smoking anything this time.  In fact, I think she was just looking at me as I passed.  It didn't register at first but then it occurred to me:  She was wearing a Hitler mustache!  No lie.  It was on her not-a-face just below where her nose should have been.  And, of all the things she could have done, she waved as I passed.

I do believe she's got a hilariously twisted sense of humor.

A Third Faceless Lady and the Secret of Flight

I still have no idea what happened this time.  I was at a friend's apartment just off campus.  It was our annual Valentine's "Make food and watch cult movies" night.  I was walking through the parking lot when I saw her.  She was standing there, wearing a parka and wind pants.  The hood was up so I couldn't see her hair.  And she didn't have a face.

It was another faceless lady, but this one was different from the other two.  For the first time, her attention was focused on me.  I couldn't tell by eye contact or anything like that for obvious reasons, but I could just tell her focus was on me.  It was a little strange, but nothing felt like I was in danger. 

Wrong.

Without warning, she darted behind one of the cars.  I was a bit confused until she leaped out from behind another and straight at me.  Her aura had become visible as a set of glowing purple claws at the end of each gloved finger.  Don't ask me how I managed, but she sailed over my head just as I moved to duck.  She hit the car to my left (and it wasn't pretty).  Suffice it to say that I ran.  I ran at speeds I didn't know were possible to my legs.  I ran around buildings and through parking lots and across streets, the Faceless Lady closely pursuing me every step of the way.  Finally, she had me cornered at a dropoff at the end of a gravel parking lot.  About fifteen feet below was a small creek.  A creek filled with very pointy rocks.  Not pleasant.  Still, the alternative was glowing purple evisceration at the hands of a Faceless Lady.  So I closed my eyes and stepped off the edge...

And I didn't hit the ground.

It took a few seconds before I realized that fact. But I think I noticed when I heard a sigh behind me that Gravity had relinquished its grip.  I looked over my shoulder.  The Faceless Lady was staring(?) at me.  Cue the iconic "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" staredown music.  Then, out of nowhere, she blew away like dust in the wind.  Think "staked Buffy vampire".

So there I was, hanging in midair.  I looked down and caught my reflection in the low creekwater.  Extending from my back was a pair of shining prismatic wings.  They were pretty long and appeared to be made of disconnected tribal tattoo designs.  Really quite breathtaking. 

The point is, though, I was flying!  Really flying!  The feeling was indescribable!  Utter and complete freedom.  I just had to image where I wanted to go and I would fly in that direction.  It was absolutely amazing.  I flew about for the better part of the hour before I remembered I had class the next day.  Quite a Mary Poppins moment: the thought literally dragged me down.  So, I reluctantly flew back toward school and landed a little off campus.  Can't afford to be seen by the normals and all.  I hope I don't see that particular Lady again.

I wonder if I'll be able to fly again.

Another Faceless Lady and Surgery

The semester ended the other night.  I stayed an extra day, so I could change rooms.  Anything to escape my horrible roommate.  Seriously, he's almost literally the Roommate from Hell.  Some nights he comes in smelling of alcohol and brimstone and he leaves singed footprints on the tile of our dorm room (and those take forever to wash out of the floor).  That aside, the night was rather quiet as I was one of the seven students remaining on a campus which normally houses 5000+.  It was really lonely, too.  So, as usual, I sought refuge from the loneliness at my favored hearth, Taco Bell.

I was making my usual round about the outside of the building (it helps prevent anyone unwanted from following you) when I saw her by the drive-thru order mic.  She was wearing a red dress reminiscent of the one Marilyn Monroe wore, except of course that it was red and ended just above her knees.  Her days-long legs ended in a pair of red pumps  Long flowing blonde hair fell about the sides of her head and she was leaning over to the passenger side as though whispering something in the window.  She was rather shapely and quite easy on the eyes, except that she didn't have a face.

I don't know where she comes from or what she is, but I'm starting to wonder if it's more than a coincidence.  They don't act like noppera-bo so I'm kind of at a loss as to what they are, but I can't help but wonder if they're showing themselves to me for a reason.  They kind of remind me of dream-things which some dream-psychologists refer to as "supernumeraries".  They're like the extras that your brain doesn't flesh out in dreams.  They're far too detailed to be those.

Also, I'll be gone for a few days.  I've got some surgery tomorrow and I won't be coherent for a few days.  My wards at home are strong.  I'll probably be okay.

Let's hope.

A Faceless Woman

Some nights, I'm walking back to campus from wherever I was and I'll be passing this taco place across from the school.  Normally, it's just as empty and dead as everything else in this small town at midnight.  Sometimes, though, I'll see a woman.  She's normal looking enough. Except for the fact that she doesn't have a face.

I've seen her a total of five times, the latest being last night when I was walking home after dropping off a friend's movie in the Red Box by McDonald's.  She was sitting there under the taco joint's sign, smoking a cigarette.  That she has no face could easily be dismissed as a trick of the shadow, but she also has one other stranger characteristic about her.  She's always smoking when I see her but the cigarettes' flames are always blue or green.  No combustible plant material that I know of (that wouldn't kill the smoker) burns those colors.  Something otherworldly is afoot.  (Like that's never happened to me before...)

Honestly, my money's on noppera-bo or mujina, traditional faceless spirits from Japanese and Hawaiian myth respectively.  That or some kind of fae being.  They have, like, a million forms and even more numerous illusions of such.  I really should go talk to her next time I see her.

Note to self: find a four-leaf clover between now and then.