[Sodium_noir] Whispers of the Past

[Colette Coeur]

  John, Abby
Beneath Mike's Place 
  John returns the kiss, and when she pulls back he smiles.  "I haven't gotten use to it, I've merely accepted it, and it's easier said than done."  He took a drink and collected his thoughts before continuing.  "When Marco Polo went East, I was in him.  I stayed behind in the Middle Kingdom for decades.  I spent time as an advisor to the Emperor, studied in a monastery, died, and studied more, then rose and remained for a few more decades before wandering south into what is today called India."
  He shook his head at the memories.  As for Wisdom of the Ages, just remember I've had the opportunity to make more mistakes and learn from them." 
   
  "So, who are 'the girls' you had dredging you out of the Bay?"
   
  "Friends." he replied with a cryptic smile.  "Including Nitti's girlfriend, who found the whole thing hilarious."
   
  “Friends indeed, recoverin’ your body ‘cause they knew you’d be comin’ back. And even havin’ a laugh at Mr. Nitti’s expense over it” She looks at him, head cocked to one side, echoing his gesture from earlier, eyes bright. Then she drains her drink and sets the glass aside “I seen things even in my brief life. Dark, powerful, old and scary things. Things that make it easier to accept your tale. But most would have a hard time dealing with it, even with the evidence thrown in their faces. So you’ll excuse me if I speculate about the nature of your friends. Just as you asked about Sandra at the Sinclair Party. But we each don’t wanna be givin’ away the secrets of our friends and family, do we? Our own should be enough. As for me, my story is written mostly in my flesh.” As she speaks she gives a little shimmy. The pale green silk dress drifts down to her feet and she steps out of her heels, leaving her wearing nothing but the black velvet and rhinestone choker. Slender and
 leggy, she has more the build of a Ballerina than what most expect in a Stripper. 
   
  “Shall I show you?” 
   
  Her features blur and shift, muscles ripple under ivory skin that darkens to a dusky hue save for a pale patch between her breasts. Her eyes grow huge and slanted, the green irises filling them, her pupils stretch to black slits.  Her hair grows tousled, wild and much longer, a black cloud flecked with silver tips. She smiles, her teeth shining white and sharp, long fangs gleaming. There is no doubt now of her heritage, the Cat shows clearly. There’s a hint of something else as well, something distantly kin to Morgan for eyes that can see. Fey, Fell, Exotic and Beautiful.
   
  “I’ve not changed all the way.” She whispered this softly, the fangs giving her a lisp. “Goin’ too far causes most to just freak out.” Like they did the night o’ your first change. And don’t forget you lost it too, Sela. She thrust that memory aside. This was too delicate a time for remorse. Don’t screw it up bein’ all maudlin.
   
  “So John Black, you’ve shown me yours and I’ve shown you mine. What now?”
   
   A Fearful Tag

   


"Life is Short, let Love be Long."
 		
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