tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37387540412345533592024-03-05T12:29:24.990+08:00This Is Not Illegal... but it is vague. Welcome to the Philippines.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-80739991134113483052014-04-07T13:04:00.000+08:002014-04-07T13:04:05.558+08:00Advice To Self<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tama na, Bern. Masyado ka nang nasaktan. Pahinga ka na.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-60610223934738977792014-03-14T17:53:00.000+08:002014-03-14T17:53:30.676+08:00Verbum Chapter Five: The Angel Called James<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Being mortal has its drawbacks. Like the pain of smashing against
a table and having a vase fall on your head. Good thing they were plastic
flowers since getting wet as well would have been pushing it. James was
probably knocked out cold for a few minutes. When he came to, he saw a man
standing at the door of the apartment unit and looking around, searching for
something. He froze, but the man did not seem to see him. He remembered he cast
a Veil on himself when the demon attacked them but he was knocked out before it
took full effect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The demon! He started to panic when he saw the dead bodies
lying outside in the hallway. Everything was quiet except for two men who was
talking and crying. He couldn’t catch what they were saying since his mind was
elsewhere. The demon must just be nearby. He could not let it escape and go
back empty-handed. He closed his eyes and concentrated, opening his mind to his
surroundings. Some mages call this technique “The Radar”, using your mind to ‘look’
around you. For others, it involves sensory deprivation to achieve an altered
state of consciousness. For James, he slipped easily in and out of different
levels. Of course, he could, given what he was before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Show me!” He uttered the command. In his mind was shown
something like a virtual map of the surrounding area. He saw clearly the two
talking men and the dead bodies outside. Further on, he saw the riot of
buildings in Manila. In the distance, he saw the demon, bounding from rooftop
to rooftop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He got up quietly so the two men wouldn’t hear his
movements. He tiptoed towards the door and stopped in his tracks. He was
transfixed by the sight of the bigger of the two men. He was kneeling on the
floor, crying bitterly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Jesse, what do we do now?” the smaller guy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So his name is Jesse. He could feel his pain pulsating out
of him. But there is warmth, like that of the morning sun on a slightly
overcast day. It pierces through the sadness wrapped around his being. He felt
a weird feeling inside him, like icicles slowly melting. He waved his hand
gently and let out a small wave of strength towards Jesse, enough to get him
going through this ordeal. And then he clenched his fist and looked out. He
couldn’t let himself be overwhelmed by this feeling right now. He’s got a
mission to accomplish, a charge to complete. He can still feel the essence of
the demon nearby. He can still make it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With silent footsteps, he walked towards the smashed window
and climbed out to the ledge. It’s quite a drop from this level but he saw the
fire exit stairs and edged his way there. Before climbing down, he summoned the
Hawks of Horus to go ahead of him and capture the demon. He made some complex
finger movements and uttered the Greek words.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"<i>Synechisei to drasti!</i>"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bright hawk-shaped beings erupted from
nowhere and flew to the direction of the demon. He locked them in his sight as
he climbed down the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At ground level, he started to run. The hawks flew at an
incredible speed in pursuit of their target and then, as one, they dived. He
heard the unearthly growling of the demon as the light-birds clawed it with
their sharp talons. He turned on one corner and found the demon itself
struggling in an alley.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You’re not getting away this time,” he said. The
hawk-shaped beings disappeared. The demon growled at James and spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Fool! Don’t think I do not see through what you are. But
you are weak. You cannot vanquish me!” It spoke as if four different voices
were speaking in unison. The sound grated in the ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“That does not mean I cannot try,” said James in a defiant
reply. But what the demon said was true. Years in this mortal coil stripped him
slowly of his powers. He had to learn the magic of the humans to supplement
with what little remaining he has. It was a good thing he picked a few up from
way back before his enslavement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The demon suddenly lunged at him with its claws. Good
reflexes saved James as he jumped back, throwing out a Golgotha Spell which
nailed the demon to the ground. The demon howled in pain as it pulled out each
wedge from its body. James did a quick follow up and uttered a command.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>Pagida!</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A bright net of white light fell over the demon but before
it closed down, the demon breathed fire onto it and burned it away into
nothing. James was stunned. This demon indeed is quite powerful, even the
Philistine Net was useless. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The demon then threw a huge fireball towards James and in
the nick of time he was able to erect a Shield. He managed not to get burned by
hellfire. However, he was still thrown back by the sheer intensity of the
force.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Fool of an angel you are!” The demon said and laughed. It
bounded past him and ran away into the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“He failed,” Dan announced to the almost empty hall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The man on the throne stood up, unfurled his robe and went
down the dais. He approached a huge circle inscribed on the marble floor before
the wooden throne. He whispered a few words in Hebrew and produced from his
hand a burning sigil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iPa_6uoU5f0Mr1jcQ0dEaLIuScp0YIlUlM6KdlwS_Eb4iDL4Voz2quwwv99lzwEz75bQG9BvKLQEs5X7NmbER37R0dHj57akBqOMg5sKCJikqB-0YL2nS2UveLPxiO0megzvMbVVPi4/s1600/james.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iPa_6uoU5f0Mr1jcQ0dEaLIuScp0YIlUlM6KdlwS_Eb4iDL4Voz2quwwv99lzwEz75bQG9BvKLQEs5X7NmbER37R0dHj57akBqOMg5sKCJikqB-0YL2nS2UveLPxiO0megzvMbVVPi4/s1600/james.jpg" height="320" width="307" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James materialized in the middle of the circle, lying
supinely and coughing. He smelled of burnt sulfur and his hair was slightly
singed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You’ve failed,” the man in robes looked down on him. “Your
instructions were very specific and relatively simple, even an apprentice could
have accomplished that in less time than you took.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James tried to get up on his feet. “It was a high level
revenge demon. My measly powers were no match for it.” He was gasping for
breath. “Give me my sigil back and I swear I shall help you, Leon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The man he called Leon curled his lip in a wry smile. He
walked around the circle and regarded James.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You’re at it again, angel. Stop making flimsy excuses and
do what you were told to do.” He walked back to the throne and sat on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Three of my companions died, Leon. Four of us could not
have faced it. We need more strength.” James said almost pleadingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Leon looked at him with a steely stare. “I have included you
and treated you as a member of this ancient venerable order of magicians whose
sole reason for existing is to preserve whatever sliver of order those before
us wrestled from the clutches of a chaotic universe. You were never treated as
a lowly servant spirit but as an equal among us. Yet, one simple mission and
you fail miserably and it is by sheer luck and my mercy that you are still
standing, groveling here before me. I do not care who dies or incinerates, as long as you accomplished what you all were tasked to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James had no response to that but bowed down his head and
clenched his fists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Forgive me. I shall recuperate and try once more,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Of course you will,” Leon responded condescendingly. He
waved him away and directed him to Dan. “Go with Daniel and see what you must
do to prepare for this. You may leave the circle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James walked out of the hall, glancing once at Dan as he
did. He was once a powerful angel until an oppressive requirement in The Mysterium
trapped him to serve Leon Garces, 538<sup>th</sup> Grand Mage and current leader
of the Order. He wants to break free, to reclaim what he once was, and restore
his former glory. But how does he ransom his sigil back? Leon is the god of
this universe and everything else revolves around him and serves his every wish
and desire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He has to find a way. He vowed to himself that he will find
a way.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>to be continued</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-14338811988419706272014-03-14T17:43:00.001+08:002014-03-14T17:44:02.567+08:00Verbum Chapter Four: Love, Lust, Lies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bJrNy3NO5Pd8b4hQ3-C5eyUU70t380QuOfiCqhyphenhyphenhLh_pc31igaHZxKg7Nyebf4pEkaEYIAjrbUSis2KRPwdKzbCHTme-gfN1YTfzJNAv9LpmJFSWDOKBlPL8pswGwkHF66uAZ-WtJm0/s1600/man-crying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bJrNy3NO5Pd8b4hQ3-C5eyUU70t380QuOfiCqhyphenhyphenhLh_pc31igaHZxKg7Nyebf4pEkaEYIAjrbUSis2KRPwdKzbCHTme-gfN1YTfzJNAv9LpmJFSWDOKBlPL8pswGwkHF66uAZ-WtJm0/s1600/man-crying.jpg" height="400" width="326" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse sat unmoving on his bed. His mobile phone, the one he
forgot to put on airplane mode, had dropped to the floor just a few seconds ago
and bounced somewhere out of sight. He was staring straight into nothingness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How long has he been out? Just around eleven hours? And the
day keeps getting worse. The reminder of his break up, the MIDI song playing on
his head again, the failure of the Sleep Sigil and that bad dream, now this. Somehow
it’s all very difficult to digest. His best buddy could not be dead. Maybe
George was just pulling a prank on him. Maybe they were just trying to get him
out of the house. He’s been holed up here for weeks after all. Maybe they were
planning a surprise party for him. They did it before on his birthday. He
wouldn’t put it past Marcus to come up with crazy stuff like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But something did not fit. George and Marcus already broke
up a few months ago and it was absolutely messy. The social media was abuzz and
dirty laundry flew everywhere from both parties. And in just a snap, everyone
hushed and the dust settled. It has been like that for months and this was the
first time he has heard from George since then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No, it’s not a surprise party.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needs to
see what happened. He needs to know for certain what this whole thing is about.
He wants to see, if true, the lifeless body of Marcus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He stood up from the bed and put on a pair of jeans and his
jacket over the shirt he was wearing. He then scooped up his car keys and
wallet and went out of the house. It was just around nine in the evening;
people are still out and about. The day was just winding down. He looked at the
people walking on his street and wondered if any of them were like him and the
others. He felt pang of envy for the people who did not have the same abilities
and skills that he does. The ‘normal’ people, some might say, blissfully
unaware of the other society that exists alongside theirs, unknowing of the
blessings and dangers that were just at their grasps. Yet he is a part of their
society as much as they are in his. The only difference is their level of
awareness. They all die in the end, anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He shook himself out of these thoughts and got into his car,
backing slowly out of the driveway. He then steered the car to the left and
sped away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George walked over and squatted by the pile of dust that was
once his ex-boyfriend, Marcus. He scooped a handful and let it run through his
fingers, pouring it on Marcus’ dried up skull.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Look at you,” George said with a condescending smile. “Not
so potent now, huh? You know, I just realized that earthy gray actually looks
good on you. Too bad, you’re dead.” He let out a villainous laugh, but he was
cut short when he heard some scuffling coming from the opened apartment unit
owned by the girl who fell down the building. He stood up and looked in,
brushing aside the yellow police lines. The place looked normal and everything
was in place, save for the smashed table directly facing the door. Did the girl
try to fight the demon or something when it attacked her? He realized he didn’t
really care. He didn’t even know who she was and it was just the bitch’s tough
luck that she ended up a couple of floors down with a smashed skull. He did
another take of the unit just to make sure no one was really there before he
went out. He let out a startled gasp when he saw Jesse standing at the landing
of the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What in the world happened here?” Jesse asked slowly,
wide-eyed in disbelief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Oh my God, Jesse! You’re here! Oh my God!” George shrieked
as he ran towards Jesse and hugged him tightly, sobbing on his chest. “He’s
dead! Marcus is dead! Oh God!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse pushed the sobbing George gently away and went to each
of the bodies. The Chinese-looking one had a rough hole on his chest as if it
was blown away by a shotgun fire. Some ribs were even protruding and bits of
flesh were dangling from them, dripping blood, which has begun to make a
viscous pool on the floor. Another body that lay near the door had three deep
claw marks from his torso up to his face, spilling his insides like a badly
mutilated human anatomy doll. There was a circle of candles and in the middle
of this were charred remains of something that was once human. It was evident
in the dislodged arm that still showed some blackened fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Still further, he saw a pile of dust with the remains of a
skull, dried up as if it was a corpse long buried and then exhumed. He realized
he was looking at the effects of the Sigil of Decay. His heart skipped a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Who did this? Who did all this?” Jesse asked in a low
whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I don’t know, Jesse,” answered George between sobs. “When I
got here, I just saw… I just saw all this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse turned to George and grabbed his shoulders. “That
can’t be Marcus. How can it be Marcus? How are you even damn sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George, still crying held up his hand. “I found this by the
skeleton over there. It was the ring I gave him on our third year as a gift. I
had my name engraved on the inside.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse looked at the ring and let go of George. He turned
back to the skeleton and fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and
his shoulders shook as he soundlessly cried. His worst fears earlier were
confirmed. This was not a prank. This was not a party. Marcus has been attacked
by one of the most powerful death spells in existence. The man whom he
considered his closest friend, almost his brother, who knew almost everything
about him, has been killed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George walked over to where Jesse was and knelt beside him.
He put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder to comfort him. Jesse looked up and turned to
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Why are you even here? How did you know about this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George averted Jesse’s eyes and looked at the rotten pile.
“I was just passing by the area and saw Marcus’ car parked outside. I haven’t
heard from him for months, Jesse, and I figured maybe he was inside the car and
thought to spring a little surprise on him. You know, try to be friends despite
everything that happened. But he wasn’t there and then I heard some glass
shattering from up here,” he pointed towards the broken window in the hallway.
“So I went up to see what happened. I was scared, actually, everything was
quiet. When I got here, I saw all this. I saw the ring and broke down. That’s
when I called you.” He looked at Marcus. “I thought you should know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Marcus called me this morning,” Jesse said, holding back
his tears. “He said he wanted to talk to me. He said there was something that
might interest me. I shouldn’t have dissed him like that,” he punched the floor
so hard it vibrated on the walls. “I should have listened.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George put his arms around Jesse and let him cry. He could
feel the firmness of his deltoids and triceps, the warmth radiating off his body,
the perfectly manly girth of his shoulders. Now he could understand why the
jerk Marcus was so enamored with him. Jesse gave off an effortless charm, like
it was some irresistible enchantment cast upon the unwary. If he hadn’t known
better, he would have bedded this man ages ago, except that vengeance is the
only thing he wanted now from Marcus and his circles. Whatever charms Jesse has
will just burn in his hatred. Now that he thought about it, maybe he could
still take that road. An idea started to form in his mind. He decided to go on
with his charade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Jesse, what do we do now?” he asked Jesse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse felt a little surge of power in him. He straightened up, wiped his tears with the back of his
hand, and took a deep breath. He stood up and looked at Marcus’ corpse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Here’s what we should do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ever since he was a child, Dan has never felt quite the same
as the other children. He knew all about dreams, and how everybody gets those
sometimes when they sleep. They would even swap stories about them the
following morning. But among his friends, Dan was the only one who had ‘other’
dreams. The sort of ‘dreams’ that he gets even when he knows for certain that
he’s awake. Sometimes it happens when he’s half asleep, teetering on the edge
of wakefulness. One time, he ‘dreamed’ of how his pet Alsatian will die while
he was having lunch. He ran out screaming and crying, thinking his dog was already
road kill. His bawling startled his Alsatian and it ran out of their gate and
was run over by a passing car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dan told this to his mother, who assured him that he was
just imagining things. He thought he was going crazy and will be locked up in a
padded cell in an asylum, bound in a straitjacket like what he sees in the
movies. But he knew he was not, except that his young mind could not be wrapped
around the idea of the perception of reality and its nuances. He grew up
harboring and suppressing this, until one day his uncle approached him and told
him he knew of his ‘gift’. He brought him to a man whom he said could help him
deal with his predicament in a productive way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was Levi Alcantara, the 537<sup>th</sup> Grand Mage and
then leader of The Mysterium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then he learned about his precognition and how to harness
this ability. He was trained in the Order and learned much about himself and
how the world and the Universe itself functioned by using his mind’s eye. He
became the most powerfully accurate precognizant in The Mysterium, and his
visions are on point down to the last detail. He could see both past, present,
and future events with relative ease and rose up the ranks for becoming a very
valuable asset to the ancient order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Right now, both of Dan’s hands was submerged in a silver
basin full of water. His eyes, all white, were looking straight ahead but on a
totally different plane. He was looking at what just happened to the small
group they sent to capture the rogue demon down in Manila. The water in the
basin quivered and rippled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“They’re all dead.” He announced with finality. His voice
echoed in the impressive Hall of the Masters of the Temple. It was a long colonnaded
nave, much like a Gothic cathedral. Portraits of past Grand Mages hung along
the sides of the center aisle. At the end of this aisle stood an intricately
carved wooden throne. Images of demons, angels, gods, and humans in battle
adorned the high seat where a robed man sat shrouded in shadows. He stirred
when he heard what Dan proclaimed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Just as I thought,” the man said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Wait,” Dan hurriedly said. “There is one more. He’s got faint
silvery wings but they’re tied to his back. Its… it’s James. He’s going after the
demon!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Of course,” said the man on the throne without much
surprise. “Keep monitoring events.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The man on the throne slunk back into the shadows even the
glint of the ring on his finger could not illuminate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse wrapped his knuckles thickly with a piece of clothing
ripped from one of the dead men upstairs. With it he smashed the driver’s side
window of Marcus’ car and unlocked the door. Normally that is not possible, but
things like this never bothered Jesse. Even without magic, he’s got the full physical
force of a battering ram. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He got in, five gallons of gasoline in tow, which he got
from a nearby station.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Are you sure about this, Jesse? What if you hurt yourself?”
George stood beside the car, holding a bundle of cloth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I am sure, George. Just make sure to keep that intact,” he
indicated the bundle he was holding. “We will need to burn that into fine
powder. Get an urn somewhere.” He started the car and released the hand brake. “Prepare
for a buffet. We will feed his family lies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He drove off, leaving George standing on the curb. “Poor sucker,”
he said. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you a pretty little jar.” He walked off
laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse gripped the wheel tightly and stepped on the gas. He
was aiming for EDSA since at this hour of night, the trucks were already
allowed there. From Taft Avenue, he will have to go around and make a U-turn
near the Mall of Asia. <i>Fuck that</i>, he
thought. He stepped harder on the gas and hit the MMDA fence and made a sharp
left, tires screeching, the car’s windshield was smashed. He’s on a hunt. And
he found what he was looking for. His expression was grim as he calculated his
moves as compared to the rising dial of the car’s speedometer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He opened the lid of the gasoline beside him and let it
spill all over the floor. Any moment now, he thought. He gunned down the
highway, heading towards the tail end of a ten-wheeler truck. As the truck drew
nearer, he opened the door and jumped out, rolling on the pavement as he did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The car smashed against the truck, metal screeching upon
metal. The friction sent out sparks and ignited the gasoline and the car went
up in flames within seconds. The driver of the truck did all he could to
control the wheel as he skidded wildly from the impact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse stood up, he scratched his arm from his jump but it
was just superficial. He cast a Veil on himself and watched as cars tried to
avoid the burning wreck. He walked to a dark corner in the sidewalk and removed
the Veil as he joined the other bystanders who happened to be there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“And thus passes Marcus, my dearest friend,” he said to himself
and walked away.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>to be continued</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-67094650683249923582014-03-01T20:55:00.000+08:002014-03-02T12:08:59.813+08:00Verbum Chapter Three: Curse Me Like One Of Your French Whores<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2g1MLHhksVR6JGccDuspgvCxR_Gey50yPLDq4NqxAKuyCE2ilfbs74njvi9iMGkvrOvjXoO7MQRDVdeFFjUVVKIt0zWE_R6kfgDluk0_G2vkTPtxg9JQ8ppH79XI9A28ZvEcXy8GaH8/s1600/ku-xlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2g1MLHhksVR6JGccDuspgvCxR_Gey50yPLDq4NqxAKuyCE2ilfbs74njvi9iMGkvrOvjXoO7MQRDVdeFFjUVVKIt0zWE_R6kfgDluk0_G2vkTPtxg9JQ8ppH79XI9A28ZvEcXy8GaH8/s1600/ku-xlarge.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Surprise, surprise!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George spread his
arms wide and walked over to where Marcus was kneeling. Marcus was still too
shaken too move even an inch of muscle since the demon was thrown out of the
window. What ensued was a silence penetrated only by the sound of their
shuffling and the occasional crackle of Rosie’s remains burnt to a crisp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Didn’t expect me, did you?” George said as he pulled out a
cigarette from his jeans pocket and lighted it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus swayed his head to look at George in the face. His
face was still spattered with Alvin’s blood, which has begun to dry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What… the fuck… are you doing here?” he whispered hoarsely.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Sorry? Can’t hear you.” George took a puff from his
cigarette and squatted down in front of Marcus. “You gotta speak up, you know.”
He breathed the smoke out on Marcus’ face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” Marcus screamed
as he suddenly regained his strength and tried to claw out George’s face.
George jumped back and gave a throaty laugh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Whoa! Easy there, tiger. Well, to be honest, I missed you.”
He gave a wan smile. “After we separated, I haven’t heard anything from you,”
said George. He took another puff from his cigarette. “Not a text, a tweet, a
Facebook message, or even a goddamn email. And here I see you, inches away from
having your head chomped off by a ratchet-ass demon. Honey,” he tilted his head
to one side. “What are you doing with your life?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus tried to stand up, shakily doing so. He tried to lean
onto the wall nearest him for support. “How did you do that?” he asked. “How did you even <i>know</i> that?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Know what?” George asked in reply. “Oh, you mean that nice little
magic thingy? I found it from a source with unbelievably copious amounts of
information, even those that may have been buried in the past. It’s called the
Internet.” He gave Marcus a sullen look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George crushed the cigarette under the toe of his boot and
walked over to where Marcus was standing. He lifted Marcus’ chin with a finger
and looked him in the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I’ve picked up a trick or two from you, darling,” he said
with a sweet smile. “Now, to answer your question. What exactly am I doing
here?” he walked and leaned over the opposite wall and lighted another
cigarette. All his movements were those of a man who has everything under
control. Very far from the naïve, clueless guy Marcus knew and left just a
couple of months ago. This is a different George. This is a man with a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He tried to use his ability to try to read into George’s
mind but when he peered in, everything was just cloudier. Tangled swirls of
dark gold and grey smoke were all he can see in his vision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I’m here to end things between us. Some form of <i>final</i> closure so we can both move on,”
said George.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I don’t think there’s anything that we need to talk about,”
Marcus said defiantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Oh, I think there is. A lot, actually.” George gave Marcus
a knowing look. “And don’t worry, this Veil of Silence your pretty friend cast
still stands. <i>Teneo!</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George waved his hand in a quick motion. Suddenly, Marcus
felt his feet getting heavy, as if being held by strong invisible hands. He
tried to break free and thought of a counter-spell for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>Taces!</i>” George
fired another spell at Marcus. This time, he felt his tongue stiffening from
the base to the tip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“No talkies, babe. You will listen. You’re my bitch now,”
George said with a sly grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was like a montage of random scenes, like most dreams go.
And like most dreams, it started in the middle of things. No chance to give you
a back story or a reference. Jesse was standing in his kitchen, holding a glass
of water. The blackness from the window indicated that it was nighttime. Next
thing he knew, he was in his car, driving down EDSA, or at least what seems
like it. He sees a magnified version of a container van. No, the car is
hurtling towards it at full speed. He looks at the seat beside him and
everything turned black. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Next thing he knew, he was walking down a busy street in
Makati when he heard three shots being fired and everybody started running in
random directions. He was bumped by at least about three people, the last one
was a man who crossed his legs with his and made him stumble to the pavement.
He was falling face-down as he put his hands to his face to break his fall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That was when he woke up, panting and gasping for air. That
was messed up. Because the sigil he cast was supposed to give him a dreamless
sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I know you were the one who tried to kill Jesse’s boyfriend. I know you've been secretly in love with your 'best friend',”
George pointed his cigarette on Marcus’ face. “I saw you do that freak ritual
in our basement last year. That was some shit, I’m telling you! All those light
shows and that demon, just wow!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus struggled to wriggle his tongue to speak but it was
as stiff as a stone. He wanted to explain that he had a higher motive in doing
that. But all he could manage was a weak throaty groan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I got there in time, though. Countermanded the demon,
overriding your charge,” George continued as he walked behind Marcus, tracing a
finger on his shoulder. “Wasn’t really sure I could do it. You’re much more of
a bastard than I am,” he whispered to his right ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“But I did,” he said aloud. “Just a little tweak in the
words, really, and poof! Demon’s mine!” he let out a derisive laugh. “But not
fully, though. That was the first time I did your shit and apparently I didn’t
fully gain control, only enough to change the intended target. Let’s just say, he was collateral damage.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Fuck, </i>thought
Marcus. So that’s what happened. And all along he thought that he misworded his
charge, or miswrote a character in the circle. He had to give it to George
though. No beginner can pull off something as complex as that in such a short
time. It takes practice. He wondered what else George can do now that he has
obviously learned a lot more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Quite surprising, huh? There’s another thing you need to
know, and this is something a little more personal,” he looked straight into
Marcus’ eyes. “I blinded you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus’s eyes widened in disbelief; everything became clear
to him now. For months, he hasn’t got a proper vision at his command. The
swirling clouds have been a regular second sight and he had to crawl his way
through things. Admittedly, he became dependent on his ability to see things
beforehand. He had to look ahead to see the outcome before making any decisions
in almost everything he did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You know why?” George continued. “Because you’re one big
fuckin’ asshole, that’s why!” he screamed and slapped Marcus hard. Marcus
nearly fell over from the force of it and his face stung.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You fucked as much men as nearly the entire population of
San Juan behind my back! And I am that stupid innocent schmuck believing every
little lie that you said! I wanted you to suffer horribly for all the shit you
did to me!” George was very hysterical now but he started to compose himself.
He breathed deep and let out a sigh and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You haven’t been living the life you should be living,” he
caressed Marcus’ face where he slapped him. Marcus winced. “You were too dependent
on these psychic divination shits that you have, letting Fate dictate your
life, throwing free will out of the window. Really, I think I did more of a favor
for you, darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George held Marcus’ head in both his hands and moved his
face closer to his. “But since you’re special to me, I’m gonna give you your
precious powers back. You want that, don’t you? Huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His palms glowed in a green light as he closed his eyes and
breathed deeply. Marcus closed his eyes as well and felt the surge of power
coursing through his head. He was starting to see clearly now albeit blurred.
He still couldn’t penetrate George’s mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George took a step back and regarded Marcus, sarcasm
dripping from his smile. “Look at you, all back to your normal shitty self.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus tried to move his tongue. He cleared his throat and
tried to speak. George put a finger to his lips and hushed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Now, let’s go and end this crap.” He moved his lips closer
to Marcus’ and whispered in a sultry voice. “Curse me like one of your French
whores.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>You bastard!</i>”
Marcus growled. His fingers moved in a quick succession and drew a complex
sigil in the air. “<i>Subitosenium!</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At that same moment, George put up both of his hands in
front of him, his palms facing Marcus, and intoned: “<i>Speculum!</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Sigil of Swift Decay that shot out from Marcus bounced back
from George’s glowing palms and hit him forcefully. He was thrown backwards
along the hallway and he felt his insides churning painfully. He squirmed
spasmodically and let out a long scream as he quickly turned into dust from the
inside out, until all that’s left was an echo fading down the hall and was absorbed
into the Veil of Silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">George stood riveted with every second of Marcus’ demise
from his own Swift Decay curse. It was too quick, too fast. He wanted him to
suffer. He wanted him to feel all the emotional pain he felt in a physical manner.
But then, this death is good enough for him. The city’s biggest harlot in
disguise has been brought to justice at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He took out his phone and dialed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Jesse! It’s George,” he choked his voice to sound like he’s
been sobbing. “Marcus… he’s dead. I don’t know what happened, but it’s all
messed up! You gotta come over quick!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He clicked the phone to end the call and smiled.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>to be continued</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-19828882746608508372014-02-21T23:01:00.001+08:002014-02-23T10:52:54.864+08:00Verbum Chapter Two: Secrets Kept<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBH8YIXzKcr5syI8xGmoL9luIMcRo76rUsOVAZEBwv_gHHKasg8W_9pzvB1iEIccA4FXNJCtn9h9SApIU_NKakPEdr6EvQTnYVWFoK7dwAhUJTefww6b-4Mu-0KBvh0wIQux0PNeStHs/s1600/ceremonial-magick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBH8YIXzKcr5syI8xGmoL9luIMcRo76rUsOVAZEBwv_gHHKasg8W_9pzvB1iEIccA4FXNJCtn9h9SApIU_NKakPEdr6EvQTnYVWFoK7dwAhUJTefww6b-4Mu-0KBvh0wIQux0PNeStHs/s1600/ceremonial-magick.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">15 November 2013<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus checked the nine-foot
circle for the seventh time. He more than doubly made sure that he got all the
symbols right. One wrong stroke, one tiny mistake, could mean his demise. And
he had no intentions of being the victim. That one was lying in the middle of
the circle, atop a ceramic pentagram: an image of the intended target, wrapped
in the Ropes of Kronos. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>“</i>Expugnare eum,<i>” he hissed through gritted teeth. The ropes
slithered on their own accord and tightened around the effigy. The vision he
saw a week before prompted him to do this dark ritual. He saw Jesse standing by
a huge pyre, holding books in his hand. He threw these and as they were
burning, he looked at the other side and saw two dark figures. He didn’t
recognize any of their faces but he had a feeling they were laughing. He looked
back at Jesse and saw him drop to the ground, body shaking as he sobbed
hysterically. Then the vision was gone. He tried to divine what that was and
was given betrayal, loss, and a huge change in mindset as answers. He’s trying
to prevent that from happening.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus now walked over
to a brass pedestal with a large tome lying open on top of it. A dagger with a
silver blade and a golden hilt embellished with a ram’s head served as a
paperweight on the page. He picked this up and pointed on the empty air east of
the circle he was in. He cleared his throat quietly and intoned the words
written on the page in an authoritative voice.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>“</i><i>I conjure ye to come unto me promptly and without any delay…”</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There was a stir in
the air. The candles flickered. Marcus felt a tingle run from the tip of the
blade up to his arm and down through his spine. He shrugged it off and
continued.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Adonai, Tzabaoth, El,
Elohi, Elohim, Shaddai…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He heard a low
rumbling and the pedestal clattered on the uneven floor. Orbs of light sparked
on and off on the eastern arc of the circle where the Triangle of the Art was
inscribed. The tingle he felt became
more like little electrical pinpricks on his skin. He grasped the hilt of the
dagger even more tightly and went on with the conjuration.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>“</i>Invoco nunc Persaeus!<i>” he shouted over the building din.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In that moment, a
strong gale blew around the enclosed room, completely extinguishing the candles.
But there wasn’t darkness. A shaft of light shot up from the middle of the
Triangle on the floor to the ceiling, illuminating the entire room. Inside the
bright column a figure formed, emitting low beastly growls. Marcus steeled
himself. Persaeus isn’t just about any god. It’s a Titan from the old days.
Normally, summoning a god of destruction is no mean feat and required tremendous
amounts of energy, but belief in this one has dwindled over millennia and their
power rests on belief. He was confident that he can make it do his bidding, as
blasphemous as that sounds. It’s still essentially a spirit.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With the silver
dagger, he drew the Sigillum Imperium in the air. It whirled around the
now-materializing god and wound around its neck, asserting his power.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>“Listen to my words!</i><i>”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The god-spirit,
fully-formed and hovering in midair, stood still and locked eyes with him.
Marcus stared fiercely back. Regardless that it was a lesser god, he could
still feel the power pulsing in waves from the entity. It rippled against his
cheek and surrounded him. It was by sheer force of will that he managed not to
vaporize right then and there.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He picked up the
effigy and showed it to Persaeus. It looked at it and emitted a low vibrating
growl. How has this entity been reduced to a monstrous beast, he couldn’t
fathom. Days of being ‘underfed’ for a human can make one delirious. Imagine
how it can be to a once-known god.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Without breaking his
steely stare, Marcus focused his mind on the purpose why he performed the
ritual in the first place. He also included the conditions for its release—right
after the dark deed has been concluded. He coursed these thoughts through the
Sigillum into the entity’s mind. The god-spirit nodded in understanding. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Destroy him!” Marcus
said hissed, feeling a fury of anger that wasn’t his own.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The entity howled and
shot through the ceiling, sucking the wind and light with it as he went. The room
was suddenly plunged in total darkness, but it was the least of Marcus’ worries.
He was in a half-trance, controlling the being with his mind. A hush fell in
the shadowy room, broken a few minutes later by a loud unearthly growl from
Marcus. His eyes shone with a bright light as he raised his arm holding the
dagger and stabbed the effigy in the heart area, piercing through his other
hand.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Through the hinges of
the locked door, everything that happened was being watched.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The light went out and
Marcus, losing consciousness, fell on the floor, his blood soaking the name
inscribed upon the effigy.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was the name of
Jesse’s boyfriend.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Where did you get that scar?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus was pulled back to the present time. He was pulling
out the tools from his backpack, preparing his space as he was engaged in small
talk by a middle-aged woman from The Mysterium he has never seen before. She
was wearing a bright floral summer dress and covered her shoulders in a
contrasting dark red shawl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Huh? Oh, sorry. You mean this?” Marcus held up his left
hand for the woman to see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Yeah. That looks like it was a deep cut,” the woman held
his hand gently, turning it around to examine it. Her eyes widened a bit seeing
it went through to the other side. “Or a stab wound.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Oh, I got drunk one time at a friend’s party and kinda
broke a window,” Marcus smiled awkwardly through the lie. “I leaned on it and
didn’t notice the glass sticking out the frame.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The woman winced. “Wow, that’s… unfortunate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Well, you know, Stolichnaya happened,” he chuckled a bit as he
took back his hand and dug more tools from his backpack. “I don’t think we have
been introduced. I’m Marcus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I’m Rosie. Pleased to meet you, Marcus. Although the place
could’ve been better,” the woman said as she lighted some beeswax candles she
placed in a large circle around her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus replied with a laugh, a little louder than he
intended. “True,” he looked around the place. The Astral Tower condominium in Manila
is old. Parts of the interiors of the hallway were starting to show tell-tale
signs of age. Maintenance from the rent paid by the tenants was trying to hold
back the progression but it can only do so much. Time can be a slow but ruthless
force. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Alright! We have installed the <i>Velarium Silentium </i>around the area to close us in,” Alvin said as
he walked in on the two of them from the fourteenth floor landing of the
stairs. Alvin was the secretary of The Mysterium and, in Marcus’ opinion, the
most agreeable one he has ever dealt with among them. He was the one leading
this certain operation as per the order from the higher ups of the group. The
Screen of Silence he mentioned was a nifty spell used to eliminate all sounds,
as well as cause the unwary to lose interest in the area where it was cast. “How
are we going with the Cone of Power, Rosie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rosie did not respond. She was already sitting cross-legged
in the middle of the circle of candles with eyes closed. Her lips moved as she
silently uttered some unintelligible chant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“She’s a… Wiccan?” Marcus asked Alvin in a whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alvin turned to him, his chinky eyes narrowing a bit. “One
of the best,” he whispered back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus held up both his hands in defense. “Hey, no judgment
there. I never doubted their… abilities, you know. Merely curious.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alvin smiled widely, his eyes disappeared entirely into two
lines drawn on either side of his nose. “Just messing with you, buddy. Are you
ready?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Ages ago, man,” replied Marcus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Alright, again, we’ll let Rosie finish building up the Cone.
She will be our energy reservoir and we draw from her. After that, James,
Lester, and I will draw out the entity and then you will constrain it,” Alvin
reiterated for everyone who is not in a trance state. “Our orders were for the demon
to be brought back to the Temple as intact as possible. Everybody clear on
that?” He held both his thumbs up and wagged it, his face seeking approval.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other two guys with him nodded in approval. Marcus
smiled and took his place in between Rosie and Alvin’s boys. Rosie went on
chanting in a language Marcus still couldn’t comprehend. It sounded like French
or something close. He noticed the unmistakable glow around her as she uttered
the final word of the chant. She looked at Alvin and nodded, giving the go
signal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alvin and the others turned towards the door of Unit 1406,
where the “accident” happened a few days ago. There were yellow police lines
crisscrossing the door and, as the guys started chanting the Latin Ducendum
Spell, these began to tremble and eventually snapped. The door to the apartment
unit burst open and a strong wind came out, almost extinguishing Rosie’s
candles, if not for the Cone of Power she built. Damn, she’s good, thought
Marcus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The wind died down as Marcus raised his hand and prepared to
activate the Circle of Cassiel. What followed was nothing but silence. No demon
came out of the unit. All of them had a confused look on their faces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What happened? Where is the demon?” asked Marcus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He was answered by a derisive laughter that sounded like
four different voices in unison. It was coming from the part where the hallway
turned into a corner. The ceiling lights flickered on and off as all of them turned to look in the direction of the laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Marcus! <i>Now!</i>” Alvin shouted at him just in time as the
demon’s huge fanged head appeared from the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alarmed, Marcus raised his hands and began the chant. “<i>Clamavi ad te, Cassiel Archangele—</i>” He
was suddenly cut off by an unknown voice, overpowering his. “<i>Oblivisci!</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus stumbled forward as if he was pushed from behind by
an unknown force. He suddenly forgot the words that he was supposed to say. He
looked at Alvin’s terror-struck face, screaming something at him. He couldn’t comprehend
what he was saying. Alvin’s voice sounded like it’s coming from the other end
of a very long tunnel and muffled by overlapping echoes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“A forgetting spell! We’re fucked!” Alvin faced the demon
and tried to raise the quickest shielding spell he could remember. The demon
bounded towards the group and knocked one of them unconscious inside the
apartment unit. With one clawed hand, it sliced through Lester who just then
produced a fireball in his hand. It sputtered out into a thin wisp of smoke as
he fell down on his face, dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rosie began chanting furiously again, feeding energy to Alvin’s
shield. Alvin’s arms were shaking as he tried to sustain the spell with his own
energy to protect those behind him. The flames of the candles surrounding Rosie
began to rise higher and her glow was starting to radiate heat. Her very eyes
started to turn white and she was convulsing. Her chant started to be more
high-pitched until it became a shrill scream as parts of her started to erupt
in flames. She has built too much energy more than her physical body can handle
and she was consumed by it. Her scream died down and she fell down in a burning
heap behind Marcus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The demon started pounding on the shield and this put more
pressure on Alvin. The veins in his arms started showing then burst, squirting
blood from his ruptured skin. He fell turning backwards and met Marcus in the
eyes. Excruciating pain, confusion, and shock swirled on his expression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“W-What the f-fuck, man?” he managed to say as the demon’s
claw burst forth through his chest, clutching his heart. Alvin’s blood
splattered on Marcus’ face as he got face to face with the demon. He could
smell its sulfuric breath, like rotten eggs, and he was frozen nauseous where
he stood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>Gigim xul bara! Bara
edin na zu!</i>” the same unknown voice earlier rang clear through the hallway.
It was chanting an old Mesopotamian spell. Out from the shadows, the owner of
the voice stepped out and repeated the spell, more firmly this time. Marcus’
memory fell back into place. It was the Shield of Marduk, an ancient potent
magic made to drive out demons of whatever kind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>Bara edin na zu!</i>”
A golden circle of light materialized and flew past Marcus. It hit the demon
and drove it through the end of the hallway growling. Marcus heard glass
shattering and then a muffled thud. Then there was silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The figure stepped closer so Marcus could see his face more
clearly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Hello, Marcus The Murderer. Long time no see,” the figure said with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus now recognized the voice. It belonged to an old lover
of his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“George,” he said. “What the devil are you doing here?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>To be continued.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>photo credits <a href="http://occultistic.wordpress.com/2012/08/21/magick-the-real-kind/" target="_blank">here</a></i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-59270833000541587092014-02-17T00:48:00.001+08:002014-02-22T02:36:36.367+08:00Verbum Chapter One: Foreshadowing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuBVp37MfQ8UMd86GNq6Wl6sMPNtgMSoGhkp542A7BUuMtiQQ3yUGZAHkAgO7Y8nhARt7S199to8SWxPbtCu207BqrsRcM7c3KfA8u4J8b9lsoWisdos7voRs6xZQlXDdUZlkgcmjbVc/s1600/28569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuBVp37MfQ8UMd86GNq6Wl6sMPNtgMSoGhkp542A7BUuMtiQQ3yUGZAHkAgO7Y8nhARt7S199to8SWxPbtCu207BqrsRcM7c3KfA8u4J8b9lsoWisdos7voRs6xZQlXDdUZlkgcmjbVc/s1600/28569.jpg" height="400" width="315" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They say music soothes the savage beast. That was not the
case for Jesse right now as he threw out all his pillows from the bed as he
looked for his mobile phone blaring with his alarm music.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Goddamnit!” he cursed in general terms. But mostly it was
for himself for not deactivating it a week ago when he lost his job, and also
for choosing an annoying MIDI dance tune for his alarm music. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What’s more annoying was when he found his phone on top of
his dresser, he realized that it wasn’t his alarm after all. It was a phone
call. Why on earth did he set a cloying MIDI music for a ring tone?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Yeah?” he said after sliding the screen of his phone to
answer. It was his friend, Marcus. He made a mental note to change the music
later after this call.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Jesse! I heard about what happened between you guys. I’m so
sorry to hear that,” Marcus said without preamble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Really? I have to wake up for this? Jesse thought with a
slight annoyance. He’s not a very agreeable person when roused from sleep. “Yeah,
well, it was bound to happen. You’ve seen it yourself,” he replied. He didn’t
bother to hide his annoyance from Marcus. They’ve been friends for years and
Marcus has been immunized from his sometimes snappy way of talking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“True. But still, a break up is a break up. How are you
holding up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I’m fine,” Jesse lied. “Can I go back to sleep?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still sleeping at
past 10 in the morning,” Marcus said sarcastically. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“You know, they say
depressed people sleep a lot. You sure you’re okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesse rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’ll talk to you soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Yes,” Marcus said, suddenly serious. “There is something we
need to talk about. It might interest you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Might. Ciao!” Jesse hung up, switched his phone to airplane
mode, threw it in a pile of pillows and went back to bed. He did not go to
sleep, though. His senses were already jarred awake by the phone’s ringing and
now thoughts were swirling in his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He thought of his recent break up. Marcus was the one who
foretold it. His ability for precognition has been running wild the time around
Hallowe’en. Before Jesse created a magic seal for him, that was the last
prophecy Marcus uttered. He tried to save his relationship with his six-year
boyfriend but, apparently, Fate was dead-set on its plan and nothing can avert
the inevitable. The experience taught him one thing: he can’t always play a
god. He realized he is still entangled within the machinations of the Universe
and he is not exempt from its laws. Not that the gods are either. And the
funnier thing is how Fate played out the events that led to that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He put his arm behind his head as he lay on the only pillow
that remained on his bed. He’s been thinking too much about what happened
again. It’s been weeks and his self-medication proved effective. Maybe it’s
time to have some more of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He drew a sigil in the air above his face using his finger.
He swore not to use any form of magic after the incident except for this one,
which he treats as his drug. It glowed octarine and was absorbed through his
forehead. In no time, Jesse was sent to a dreamless slumber, unmindful of
everything happening around him in the waking world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Bitch. As always,” said Marcus to the dial tone as Jesse
ended their conversation. The disinterestedness from his distraught friend made
him realize that he might go through this undertaking by himself. A few days
ago, the occult group The Mysterium contacted him regarding some disturbance in
Astral Tower, a condominium in Manila. They need not really tell him. He felt
the fluctuation in some energies somewhere there himself. An hour later, the late
evening news reported the case of an alleged suicide of a young woman who
jumped from her unit on the fourteenth floor. That isn’t something that should surprise
him. Suicides happen every now and then around the Metro. People choose to do it
for a number of reasons. There aren’t enough anti-depressants or shrinks
available and sometimes, it seems sensible to just take the easy way out. He
will not be the one to judge their guilt. Hello, first world problems.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The reason why this certain suicide caught his attention was
the effect it had on the occult community in Manila. To elicit a reaction from
The Mysterium and to have them call their people means a great deal. This was
no ordinary suicide. Heck, it may not even be a suicide at all. Something else
was at work here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The only problem Marcus was facing was he can’t see too far
out. True, his psychic abilities have been amplified after Hallowe’en came by,
as well as his other powers, but right now everything seems cloudy. His visions
look like they’ve been applied with a Gaussian blur for weeks now, and that is
why he wanted Jesse to go along with him. The guy, in his best days, has an
uncanny knack of predicting probabilities of events without having the need for
a psychic peek. Problem is, after the massive mess that happened in Makati,
Jesse was inconsolable and swore off magic altogether. That’s a bit of a
setback since he felt like he broke the seal that he made for him. He hasn’t
told him though; he suspects somebody else broke it. Had he been under attack? He
can’t be sure. Perhaps he was ‘blinded’, that’s why he can’t see things the way
he used to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He took out the box he keeps under the bed. Maybe there is
something he can do himself without being too dependent on other people. He
took out a smaller, ancient-looking box with intricate carvings on the lid and
opened it. There were various semi-precious stones haphazardly stacked on top
of one another. He dug through them and pulled out a rough-cut carnelian the
size of an onion, carved with ancient curly runes. The stone itself is
relatively smooth from age and much use. He clasped the stone in his right hand,
closed his eyes and concentrated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“<i>Ponpye, geri mwen</i>,”
he uttered. His entire body was wrapped in a faint glimmer of flame that burned
for exactly five seconds and was gone. Marcus opened his eyes and tried to look
into what will happen at the condominium later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He still got nothing but clouds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Damn it!” he swore under his breath. He put the stone back
in its box and placed it on the table. He sat on his bed, frustrated, wondering
what is blinding him that is so powerful not even a Creole spell could burn it
away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His phone beeped, signaling a text message. He opened it and
read, “See you at 7pm at Padre Faura St. Bring weapons.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Weapons? It’s that bad? He hit reply and typed, “What
exactly are we up against here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus wasn’t really that much of a combat mage and his
knowledge of combat spells was limited to shielding and restraining. He
probably figured he’d be going with more offensive mages and he’d be the defensive
line. He stood up, took his backpack from his closet and put the box of stones
inside. He also got his diagram of the Circle of Cassiel, for the constraining
of entities, rolled it and stuffed it inside. His phone beeped again. He immediately
picked it up and opened The Mysterium’s reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“A rogue demon,” it read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Marcus’ jaw dropped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Holy shit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The thing bounded across the 14<sup>th</sup> floor hallway,
jumping from floor to wall to ceiling to floor again, laughing maniacally in
four different voices. It’s been three days since it last fed on a soul. The
things it gets in this plane is not enough for sustenance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Revenge is the feeling it feeds on. That’s what he was
summoned for by some mage about a month ago to this plane. Unfortunately, in
the middle of the summoning, the intended target suddenly died for some dratted
reason and he was ejected right out of his sigil into the filthy atmosphere of
this plane. He could not find his way back where he came from and he had to
look for scraps of revenge feelings in this place, which are not strong and
all-consuming enough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It stopped dead in its tracks and turned its head. It
smelled something, the distinct smell of revenge laced with intense anger, one
that burns lividly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The demon turned its massive fanged head and bounded towards
the source of the scent, baring its black claws for the kill.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>photo credit goes <a href="http://art.alphacoders.com/arts/view/28569/The-Creature-Warrior-Art" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-87390997160679080762014-02-04T18:22:00.001+08:002014-02-22T02:36:36.369+08:00Verbum: Prologue<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Work was a bitch today. That was being kind, thought Macy as
she trudged up the flights of stairs to her apartment unit fourteen floors up. It was actually
horrible beyond description. Earlier this morning, she came in two hours late
because of the cool late January weather and the unforgiving traffic jam along
EDSA. At work, her boss was pressing her about the set quota for the week that
she was nowhere near hitting and it’s already the weekend. Sales were slow.
Most potential customers really don’t buy their practically unknown brand of
expensive appliances. During lunch, her boyfriend brought her a liver stew. She
doesn’t eat liver and was wondering if it was a prank played on her by him. He
did promise to take her home after work which, after three hours of sitting at
a nearby café, did not happen. Apparently, he was stuck in a sudden mandatory
overtime at work and that was when she decided to just go home on her own.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She fumbled for her keys in her bag, which irritated her
because it took longer than expected. Why do keys have to be at the innermost
corners of everything? She just sighed after realizing that her annoyance came
from exhaustion. Murphy’s Law wasn’t too kind on her and it had been a very
long day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She turned the knob. Did she just imagine that the door was
unlocked or she was just distracted from being tired? She decided she doesn’t
care. There was nothing too valuable inside her apartment aside from those
things she kept in her bag. She threw it on the table by the door, kicked off
her high-heeled shoes (they’re starting to hurt), and headed to the kitchen to
get a glass of water. She noticed the kitchen window was slightly opened and
there was a draft coming in. Or was it going out? It was the <span> </span>post-holiday season, the air is chilly and it
really doesn’t matter how it moves as long as it’s there, a comfort from the
otherwise hot tropical breeze you get most of the year.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She was busy looking at her fridge, thinking of what to have
for dinner that was quick and easy. She didn’t notice a shadow rising up from
behind her past the kitchen counter, slowly moving towards her, whispering dark
words…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Fourteen floors down and three minutes later, Macy was found
with a fractured skull and a bleeding hand holding a shattered drinking glass.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo credit <a href="http://fangirlingcentral.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/mid-jump.jpg" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-28523786058020687452014-02-04T16:17:00.000+08:002014-02-04T16:17:19.621+08:00Verbum: My Fantasy/Fiction Pet Project<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">Dear readers (if any),</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I have long been planning to write a good fictional story that I could pass of as a series of posts on a certain blog dedicated for it. I have come up with a lot of amazing ideas before but I was lacking the drive. When I was in college, I have written a couple of short stories both in Filipino and English tackling different things and exploring different genres. This year, as I plan to focus more on my writing portfolio, I pushed the idea of pursuing the genre closest to my heart: fantasy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I am an avid reader of fantasy stories. It's a form of escape for most people, myself included. The idea that some writers can create entire worlds and universes within the pages and transporting their readers to these places allured me so much. I wouldn't be able to create alternate realities as of yet so I will work with what I have. I will scatter the possibility of discovering something fantastical in the everyday places that we go to. I want my readers to never look at the same places they have crossed and re-crossed a thousand times ever again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">So I came up with the idea of <i>Verbum</i>. The title is the Latin term for "word". It tells the story of a couple of magicians and magic practitioners roaming around the streets of Metro Manila, battling the forces of evil with the words of magic alone. <i>Verbum </i>was taken from the Judeo-Christian belief that the entire Universe was all created by just the utterance of words. Words have power. Words should not be taken lightly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">The story is still being developed in it's structure but I already have the rough framework in my mind. I just have to go and set it down to writing. More updates will follow hereafter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I am but a bud in a meadow when place side by side with them but I do want to make a mark when it comes to contemporary literature and that can only happen if I start writing now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I hope you guys will like it. Feedback in any form will be most welcome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">Love,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">Bern </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-59661646466861817762014-01-28T06:37:00.000+08:002014-01-28T06:37:18.884+08:00Under Pressure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Gpn8MANhdLU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>video courtesy of YouTube</i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking.<br />
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?<br />
Why can't we give love that one more chance?</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A few days ago, I wrote here about something that happened to me for the very first time in my sex life. It was a condition that not a lot of guys will readily admit to (wait for it!): sexual performance anxiety. And I kinda figured out why I had that that time. It's just me pressuring myself all along. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have a tendency to over-think sometimes and that day was one particular occasion. I was pressured by the idea that this guy is expecting a lot from me and I have to measure up to it (so to speak) in an attempt to satisfy and do a job well done. Or at least a pat on the bum. These kinds of thoughts distract the mind and result in inattentiveness, hence diverting attention from the pleasure part of the act.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That was what was wrong. I did a couple of further readings on the topic on the Interwebs (since I'm a believer of self-help options but mostly it is stinginess in my part) and found another good legit <a href="http://www.webmd.com/sexual-conditions/guide/sexual-performance-anxiety-causes-treatments" target="_blank">read</a>. It mentioned there something about talking it over with your sex partner. I may just be a very lucky guy since we can openly and objectively discuss such things over without feeling awkward. We have smoothed out some things and his open-mindedness was very helpful for me. Also helpful was when he told me the things I did to him <i>*wink*</i> that he really liked. Communication was the key. And so, we will give it another shot. Innuendo intentional.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Finally, this line from the website hit it spot on: </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"<i>... take it easy on yourself. Don't beat yourself up about your appearance or ability in bed.</i>" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">HELL TO THE YEAH-EH! Why was I pressuring myself when I know what I can do masterfully? After that conversation over Twitter, I totally got over it and boosted my self-confidence back to its normal levels. I was, shall we say, locked and loaded and ready to roll!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sharing this experience publicly was not meant to stir anything nor to just draw empty attention. Rather, I hope it can serve as something helpful for the others who experience sexual performance anxiety every now and then in their lives. It's something normal and it can happen to a lot of people - men, women, gay, lesbian, or whatever-it-is-you-like-to-stick-in-yourself. And there is no harm in admitting that. The first step to solving problems is admission. And courage is needed to do that. Help will always be available. Just ask for it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">No pressure. Enjoy the ride!</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-47369196708304463502014-01-25T03:03:00.001+08:002014-01-25T07:45:46.343+08:00Performance Anxiety<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">What is bothering me?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">After three years of being in a relationship, I am once again embracing singlehood and all the perks that come with it. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">I am not one to dwell too long in moving on from a relationship. To be frank, I tried hooking up, like most single people do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">So it started quite unlike how most hookups go. This is someone I've known for quite some time. He just happened to be single as well so I didn't see any problem with that. So we hit it. Now the sex, I will not detail. That's something private. But this much I will tell: I lost it in the middle of the act.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">That is something that has never happened to me. I told him that. And of course it is outright embarrassing. I was there, feeling like a naked newt, staring at the face of my huge failure as a stud. I also felt disbelief. Like I said, that has never happened to me. I am 27, young in most respects, some would say I'm even at my peak. So the first question that crossed my mind was: WHY?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Performance anxiety. I never knew I had it. I never knew I <i>will</i> have it. I thought this will happen in middle-aged men, not for younger ones. But apparently it chooses no age. So I read up on it. I stumbled on an article from <a href="http://www.askmen.com/dating/love_tip_60/79_love_tip.html" target="_blank">AskMen</a>. There was a passage there that struck me:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><br /><i><span id="internal-source-marker_0.036235783056905224">"We have
socialized ourselves to think of sex as an act, a performance, with an
expected role we are supposed to conform to. Maybe our anxiety around
sex comes from the expectations imposed on <a data-ls-seen="1" href="http://www.askmen.com/entertainment/austin_500/510_the-new-masculinity.html">masculinity</a> in our culture, from <a data-ls-seen="1" href="http://www.askmen.com/dating/news/porn-and-the-brain.html">watching porn</a>,
from our depictions of how men act in the media, from fears or
insecurities that fuel this need to perform. It could be because of our
desire for partner or peer validation that we think we need to excel in
something that every man is supposed to be a stud at doing.<br /> <br />How
many times have you thought about your sexual performance? How long you
lasted, how good or bad you were in bed, what your partner thought of
the sex, a past sexual experience that didn’t go as planned? For many
guys, these questions fill our minds and often stay with us. We begin to
add pressure and weight on our shoulders that we carry into the
bedroom. Why are we worrying about outcomes vs. enjoying the ride?"</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I wasn't one to blame my sexual partner for anything like this. I own up to it. And like what I told him, "The onus always falls on the top. It's a sort of an unwritten rule." So maybe that's what was wrong. I was pressuring myself to perform well. I got too anxious and worried. There is a sort of reputation that has to be sort of upheld. Or maybe that message that I am competing with others for this. I don't know. Maybe I needed to get rid of those things in my head and just, as mentioned, enjoy the ride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">I may need to reflect. In probably an attempt to console, he said I am not someone who would seek the services of a shrink. I am probably better than them (I'm quoting him here). I guess admitting having this unusual problem (at least for me) is a good first step. It is nothing to be ashamed of, I guess, although it could be very, very embarrassing. It takes someone of some mettle to go through that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">That being said, I may need to ask myself indeed, what is bothering me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">Answers to follow. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-9443670386566157722014-01-22T17:15:00.001+08:002014-01-22T17:16:46.997+08:00Making Fortune Work<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As a Fire Tiger born in the year 1986, Chinese predictions for me this year said this is a wildly lucky year in all aspects of my life. I am someone who's skeptical of these things and I read them for entertainment. I still believe that we make our own Fate based on the choices we have in life. But that news is somewhat welcome, given the crappy year I had last. So this month, friends and I made plans on what we want to achieve for this year. We even got a huge corkboard for that so we can track our progress.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But here we are, languishing and letting each day pass without doing anything to achieve those plans. The lethargy vortex at home is no longer fun. Inside me, I am itching to go out there and do something. Anything. We must not let this drag us down. I can't just lie about and let my luck work for me. It never worked like that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">They say Fortune favors the brave. I say it favors those who do even the least something.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2014, here I come!</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-86013598487518210602014-01-15T16:52:00.003+08:002014-01-15T16:54:22.533+08:00Rebuilding After The Destruction<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, I am back.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Almost a year of a dry spell and I am back here. Rebuilding from the debris of 2013. Shitty year, I must say.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">November of last year, a gifted friend did a reading on me. He said that the end of the year and early of 2014 will be marked with upheavals in my personal life. I was never one who easily subscribed to what Fate brings. I have always rebelled against it, gone against the flow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"What if I fight it?" I asked a few months after the reading.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"It will hold. But it will be like building a dam out of matchsticks. It's bound to happen, sooner or later," he replied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was wracked with swirling emotions. Mostly anger about the inevitability of Fate. Aren't we supposed to control our own? Why can't I?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I delayed it. Doing nothing but trying to keep the status quo. But realization dawned that it indeed can only hold for so long. So with a feeling like getting stabbed repeatedly in the heart, I resigned to it. I let go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Photo credit <a href="http://www.tarot-card.net/tarot-cards/death.htm" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What's one to do in the face of futility? How do you respond when the Universe laughs at your face for trying so damn hard to fight the inevitable? There are so many things that I wanted to say to him but I don't even know where to begin. And I feel like such an asshole for not even giving a believable explanation of my actions. I do not know if he understands, but I hope he would. I also hope that he will have the resilience to go through this. Maybe someday, we can get to talk about it objectively. Without the tears. Without the slicing pain in the chest. Without the desire to go back and build a dam out of matchsticks. Honestly speaking, I am lost. I do not know where to begin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, the dam burst and the rushing waters destroyed everything in its path.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We need to get up out of this rubble and start rebuilding things. But this time, separately.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I wish him the best.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I really do. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-57057528536869453422012-12-13T03:04:00.000+08:002012-12-13T03:04:30.913+08:00Pardon Me<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 24px;">Dear you,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Let me just tell you why I am paranoid like that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I do not really remember the first time. Probably that time when we were in Cubao Expo and I happened to be standing and you were sitting in front of me reading a text message. It said, "<i>Kamusta pakikipag-sex sa Guadalupe?</i>" That was after the day when you left at around 11AM and went back home at 5PM. You said you had a client who asked you to read for them. I pretended not to notice that and tried so hard to keep to myself. I let it pass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then I found out that you were posting messages/ads on that late-night TV chat service where people go to to hook up. Speaking of which, you still maintained your account in a popular hook-up website for gay men, along with your contacts there whom you said were your "friends". I let it pass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One day, you brought home something nasty. That was when your infidelity became too obvious to deny. I said I already know that there was no reading for a client and that you did not go to Rockwell and spent 6 hours there. I did not mention that I read your messages where you were asking for directions on how to go to a place. I wanted to blurt them all out and slap them to your face. But I did not. You said you were sorry. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. That maybe I haven't been giving you what you want. I hugged you and let it pass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There was also one time when we were just lounging in bed together when you got a text message asking for phone sex. I was right there. Sure it's just over the phone, but that doesn't make any difference for me even if you did it on the physical level. I pretended to take it lightly and even joked about it. Needless to say, I let it pass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The next instance was on the 25th of June 2011. It was a stormy day. I told you I will go home to my mom and borrow some cash. You will be left alone but I needed the money, so reluctantly I went. I had a hard time traveling because of the storm and I was cold and wet and hungry. You told me to just spend the night at my mother's place since it's late. I decided to go back. I arrived at 3AM and found you sleeping in the living room. When I got to our room there was a plastic bag with two used condoms inside. I asked you what that was. Pretty rhetorical, I know, but I want to hear what you will say. You just hugged me and said you were sorry. I didn't know how to react. I wanted to kill someone with my bare hands that day. The treachery is just too much for me and all I could do was cry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I started to pack my things by the morning and prepared to leave. You were crying too and stopping me. I said I can't go on with that kind of shit that you're doing. A few hours after, words drowned in tears, I decided to stay. My self was screaming at me on how stupid I was and that I will probably regret that decision later. But I said I have never loved someone like you before nor ever. You were my last shot. You were the impossible wish that came true. The Universe fucked with me. Maybe it's worth another chance. To compensate, I told my self that I will be in a watchful trust. That I will always keep an eye on things that were off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There probably were other instances that I would never know about and you would never tell. I just resigned myself to the idea that maybe I can never get everything that I hoped for.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had mostly been cheated on in my past relationships. My mother was cheated on by my father. That was months before he died. I have never forgiven him nor spoken to him since. I have never forgiven nor spoken to any of my exes too. They are all like the square root of negative one to me: they don't exist, save in the imagination.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And the mind's a bitch. It won't let you forget those things you rather would.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pardon me if it seems that I do not trust you. It will take time for me to do that. There's just been too muchBesides, I never got a commitment from you that you will never do those things that you did before ever again. I have nothing to hold on to. Nothing that I can bank on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pardon me if I snoop around and is very moody at times when I sense something is not right. There had been a lot of things that I let pass and maybe I owe myself a favor not to get cheated on again. I am ready to give you an infinite number of chances to come absolutely clean. Without anything to hide at all. No secrets, like how I am to you. I love you that much that no matter how painful it can get and how it can drive me to nigh-insanity, I will bear it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You probably are getting tired and annoyed that I keep going through these things over and over. Sometimes it becomes very irrational. I am not justifying but I will just ask you this: given everything that happened, can you blame me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sincerely,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Me</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-61426381270231591102012-11-03T03:51:00.000+08:002012-11-03T03:51:07.165+08:00Proving Yourself Wrong<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A couple of months back, my boyfriend Jade said he will be attending the Task Force Pride meeting for the 2012 Pride March. I was reluctant then, given the experience I had with last year's march. Skeptical even. I said it was a total waste of time.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I kinda felt he was miffed by what I said so I stayed quiet. Then in an oh-what-the-hell moment, I said okay, I will go too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It didn't occur to me that I will be thrown into something far bigger than what I imagined.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThP89gC00vkPRbD9sFDSSK4vanyk-ndnZZaYAOdBSciIHKDnU2IT2B1GhWqHsrglw_HLuMadpqZa7zqgqxEsCb33k8O3sucYjvmeNbNnmHNOC3aiSXBYT6erJFuVTZ2_kc-JidVK2B8w/s1600/Get+Ready+Makati!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThP89gC00vkPRbD9sFDSSK4vanyk-ndnZZaYAOdBSciIHKDnU2IT2B1GhWqHsrglw_HLuMadpqZa7zqgqxEsCb33k8O3sucYjvmeNbNnmHNOC3aiSXBYT6erJFuVTZ2_kc-JidVK2B8w/s640/Get+Ready+Makati!.jpg" width="531" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I used to complain and criticize about how things were done. After that meeting, I had the realization that if you want something done, do it yourself. So here I am, heading the Program Committee of the 2012 Metro Manila Pride March and working doubly hard to make it the biggest, the grandest yet in all Pride Marches past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is a call I want to make to all my lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered friends out there. Do something. I know it's easier to be your own kind of hedonist: working your ass off, then party, then hook some random person up. But it's time to go out there and prove to yourself (yes, yourself) that you are more than just that. That you can be and do so much more. That you are not defined by your labels but by what you can do to make this society better for each one of us, no matter what your sexual orientation may be. And it's time to tell everyone where your PRIDE is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To you who are reading this entry, join me. Whether you're straight, gay, lesbian, hipster, dinosaur. It doesn't matter. If you believe in equality, in a better society, in doing so much more than what you do right now, go to the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/manilapridemarch" target="_blank">Metro Manila Pride March</a> Facebook page and show us your support.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Prove yourself wrong, like what I did myself.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-59748859892126028482012-10-17T23:37:00.000+08:002012-10-17T23:38:10.622+08:00Winter Is ComingFive years ago, I didn't have a constant internet connection. But I blogged - in notebooks. I have volumes of those, some of which I have no idea where. I consider myself lucky to have kept a few of them.<br />
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Here's one entry that I kinda like and remember fondly. It was written on 8 October 2007 at 5:20 in the morning. The title was "Constant".<br />
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<i>I am afraid of constants. That's why I abhor Math; it's got loads of it.</i><br />
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<i>Just what do you do when something you thought would be always there suddenly disappears? When such happens, you're left dumbfounded, your brain refusing to accept the fact being fed to it. Not without asking a couple of questions. What happened? Where did it go? And even then, the whole idea sinks in like stone in a tub of jelly.</i><br />
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<i>I get too paranoid, spoiling the moment. I reprimand myself for being such but then I can't help but think. I know that I should get over it and enjoy, relish what I have </i>now. <i>Guess being happy could be overwhelmingly addictive, especially if it's too good to be true, and you wouldn't want to see it over. But alas, happiness, just like everything else, would eventually come to an end. And that's the scary part. What would I do if he no longer holds my hand? If he no longer calls in the middle of the night? If I no longer see the words "I love you" in my message inbox? What would I do if he's gone?</i><br />
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<i>Cry? Pretend? Or die?</i><br />
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<i>I wouldn't want to know. This fea of losing something that has become constant is actually driving him away.</i><br />
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<i>How do you kill thoughts?</i><br />
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<i>- In dia metuosum</i><br />
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I was such a hopeless emo kid back then! And the title should have been "inconstant" or "variables" since I talked about things that change.<br />
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Just sharing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-15613731383678699312012-10-16T05:01:00.001+08:002012-10-16T05:02:38.108+08:00I Dream of Captain Jack<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's 4:34AM now, GMT+8. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These are events from yesterday.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the grueling waiting process in a company only to be turned down, I went home with a massive headache. So I decided to take an evening nap after I had a late lunch with my boyfriend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I dreamed of John Barrowman.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxz0YwyMUBPg2AdNzybCjfwIEk3Me1TVTXDSVOL0_VmKaz_refpgwwDH4M4Vq9L6suD6IPfufDLW32m1_hExE5VBqm6dGiEpfK0zny4bTjK3TxmZNMSnlqkLGM7ck_5k9IiBp9kd5fTCA/s1600/barrowman+for+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxz0YwyMUBPg2AdNzybCjfwIEk3Me1TVTXDSVOL0_VmKaz_refpgwwDH4M4Vq9L6suD6IPfufDLW32m1_hExE5VBqm6dGiEpfK0zny4bTjK3TxmZNMSnlqkLGM7ck_5k9IiBp9kd5fTCA/s320/barrowman+for+blog.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, not outright. There were some montage Doctor Who-ish scenes where I was on a train and had to punch the chests of zombie-like creatures to kill them. The setting, I gather, was in Baguio and we went to our friend's place there. There were hundreds of LCD TVs in their garage and they were wrapping it. There were also pine tree seedlings. Apparently, the trees were extinct and those are the only remaining stumps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And then there was John Barrowman.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dressed in his army coat, he was asking me about his picture in Filipino.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>"Nasaan yung picture ko sa wallet mo?"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I took out my wallet, showed it to him and said, <i>"Eto o." </i>And he seemed satisfied after that.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszMsEV3F65-QmJYZWYzahmaQmh8h-YH7tgayxKbwXS4YZ6ElvfBsdqmFEEu6Vap3BBM35rf9PbQFN-F42uqZ5VRIyISKbyEZfNdX31XLRcDnkDKDm84NaZH6WmmpsBWDexayFn-Ulgq8/s1600/torchwood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszMsEV3F65-QmJYZWYzahmaQmh8h-YH7tgayxKbwXS4YZ6ElvfBsdqmFEEu6Vap3BBM35rf9PbQFN-F42uqZ5VRIyISKbyEZfNdX31XLRcDnkDKDm84NaZH6WmmpsBWDexayFn-Ulgq8/s400/torchwood.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Never mind that he was speaking to me in Filipino. The <i>kilig</i> was just overwhelming that the only thing that could overpower that is bacon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I woke up to the smell of bacon. My housemate was cooking bacon-wrapped asparagus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh damn.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-20418302294921369432012-10-08T04:58:00.001+08:002012-10-08T05:12:49.911+08:00HOT GUY IN ACTION!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuvDa27P1H__YP7Si-JQ8o6mRx6sOZrTAEMnpFtVtvKGEY8FgxoyD2eXQIeSfo2H6gyKBmDCLpS-HpNhyJO__Bj-Hvjtiztr5CMwvgGQF76aekuRnB9rEM6KZOwlmf5n4AWBYknjEsIg/s1600/for+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuvDa27P1H__YP7Si-JQ8o6mRx6sOZrTAEMnpFtVtvKGEY8FgxoyD2eXQIeSfo2H6gyKBmDCLpS-HpNhyJO__Bj-Hvjtiztr5CMwvgGQF76aekuRnB9rEM6KZOwlmf5n4AWBYknjEsIg/s640/for+blog.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Okay, I know that was a cheap move. But I really need you to read this post.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last Saturday, I encountered a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=398783873491846&set=a.163846356985600.28449.163817710321798&type=1&theater">photo</a> that has been passed around through Facebook about an old woman vendor named Lola Constancia. The story goes that she is already very weak and elderly but she still sells her merchandise everyday. There are even times that she's out late because she still hasn't sold everything. It broke my heart into a million pieces.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I made a call out to all my Facebook contacts by sharing the photo and asking if anyone knew any information about the poor lady, since I mean to send out help in any way that I can. Another reason is that I had to make sure if the story is real.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally, an old friend and colleague of mine gave information regarding a <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/helplolaconstancia/pledgesforlolatanching" target="_blank">website</a> that attempted to consolidate the pledges to help her. The poor lady is said to reside in Antipolo. I also found out there that Lola Constancia's story has been featured in the show <i>Kapuso Mo, Jessica Soho. </i>Unfortunately, I think it failed to generate the needed action, both from the people and the local government. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdrI_45z7BN-ZGsxTPNJUGTtPrQA8er5MtUH02HQ_57j4ADU6jBLwCjkmRxCrNGYdW1yxSlgTO0Z8wibrcmrb6bSx8yoX0_j5CYcPAW9NWhJh8gzObpY7gIZtGYauUhZ3RygkAgNqa3I/s1600/lola+constancia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdrI_45z7BN-ZGsxTPNJUGTtPrQA8er5MtUH02HQ_57j4ADU6jBLwCjkmRxCrNGYdW1yxSlgTO0Z8wibrcmrb6bSx8yoX0_j5CYcPAW9NWhJh8gzObpY7gIZtGYauUhZ3RygkAgNqa3I/s400/lola+constancia.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As of this post's publish date, the last update from the website was back in 2 July 2012. Nothing followed after that. I am not sure if the efforts to help Lola Constancia have ceased entirely or what, but I really want to know. I left my number and email address there and I am yet to receive communication from whoever maintains that site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now that I have raised awareness in you who are reading this right now, here comes my call for action. I urge you to go to the website that I mentioned earlier. Or to make your life easier, click <a href="https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/viewform?formkey=dDlMZVNDV1hadWZVNXk0Qi1xUFo5cVE6MQ" target="_blank">here</a>. A word of caution though: the form has a field that asks you how much you are going to pledge. Since nothing has been heard from them as of yet, I strongly suggest not placing any amount there. Don't worry, you will still be able to submit the form even if the field is left blank. Once I have confirmed about the most recent activities of this group, I will post an update and try to organize an outreach project so we can go extend our help personally.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you have reached this point in this post, there is one more thing I ask you to do, and I ask this as a huge, huge favor: SHARE THIS. Share this to as many people as you can and ask them to do something as well. Raising awareness is well and good, but it is what you do with that awareness that matters more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Earlier, I went to Ortigas to give my boyfriend's office ID which he left at home. On my way there, I saw three homeless, grubby beggar children sleeping on the cold concrete stairs of the MRT. It totally dawned on me how massively important the Cyber-crime Prevention Law is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lastly, I really apologize that there really are no hot guys in action here. It was a bad advertising tactic, an old trick in the bag. I just needed to get your attention and I think here I can say the end justifies the means. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is not illegal, and as long as there are children sleeping in MRT staircases and elderly people left without proper care, I will not be silent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-87653850355544008002012-10-04T05:45:00.003+08:002012-10-04T05:45:58.829+08:00Silently Quoting Caligula<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, nicknamed "Caligula", was, as you may have guessed, a Roman Emperor. He has been portrayed a lot of times as a hedonistic, insane ruler given to excess.<br />
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I read up on him and found out that the first few years of his reign was actually celebrated by the populace. He removed a lot of taxes, gave prizes to the audience in the arena, and what-not. It is when the Empire went almost bankrupt that lost the people's love and he became an intolerable tyrant. Anyway, just do your own research.<br />
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I wrote this in light of the recent events in this country.<br />
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I have been trying to make sense out of all the clamor that is going on. I have read the Republic Act and I think it is good and really helpful except for a few things. And those few things are what everyone is fussing about. I am not sure if they know it when they drafted the bill, or if they knew it after it was blown out of proportion, but there is one theme prevalent amidst all the chaos.<br />
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Fear.<br />
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The thought of online freedom being curtailed makes us cringe. Every word you say can and will be used against you. Your electronically expressed thoughts may be used as prima facie evidence of violating the provisions stated in the law and without court order. While the law mostly reads harmless enough, it is the interpretation of it by those who have the power but not the discernment is what we are afraid of. We fear that the law will be abused, that even your most innocent little comment about how this country is being run will be considered libelous and can serve as your one-way ticket to jail. Underneath it all, we fear that this is the way cyber-bullied personages are getting back at us. And I think they are banking on that fear, if only to pull the reins on netizens gone wild. Hence, I imagine them silently quoting Caligula:<br />
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<em>Oderint dum metuant.</em><br />
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But it is just an emotion, and as with all emotions, it clouds our better judgment. We might be tempted to answer in ways that we might regret. I have seen a lot of flaming status messages and I understand because humans' initial reaction to fear is hate. We would either fight or flee. But since it is a gruesome process to leave the country, we'd most likely choose the former.<br />
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Let them hate as long as they fear. <br />
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Hate is intense, blind hate even more. There goes your dangling bait.<br />
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I know that my fellow netizens are intelligent, discerning and creative. (Unfortunately, I am not generalizing. All baskets of society have rotten tomatoes.) I am pretty sure we will come up with a well-thought response to this seeming madness.<br />
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Oh, and by the way, Caligula is the first Roman Emperor to be assassinated. Cheers!<br />
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This is not illegal, but it is vague.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-46777986667479732242012-10-02T06:44:00.001+08:002012-10-02T06:46:12.018+08:00Black Tuesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEr52_sYIVqCaxYIXRifPzmt_wXA3pkkqW3VVSRklH4v7Hhvhp-ZkCGBQt2mBmcD-3PEjc_67zx5ZtU2prIvpUGZ8pL4XAp3a8ZSY5xcf0F6pL1T7vCj8mG8rCjhwlCe54EZ9425lByEU/s1600/stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEr52_sYIVqCaxYIXRifPzmt_wXA3pkkqW3VVSRklH4v7Hhvhp-ZkCGBQt2mBmcD-3PEjc_67zx5ZtU2prIvpUGZ8pL4XAp3a8ZSY5xcf0F6pL1T7vCj8mG8rCjhwlCe54EZ9425lByEU/s400/stop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-60189778548281601782012-10-02T01:42:00.001+08:002012-10-02T01:42:40.212+08:00Drink Up!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I just came to the realization that this blog is just the same as any kind of blog out there: daily updates of inane activities that nobody really cares about. What I had for breakfast/second breakfast/elevensies/luncheon/afternoon tea/dinner/supper, what TV/movie I just watched, et cetera ad nauseam.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not really different. I might be part of the unthinking masses. But then, I am legally shackled so I better shut it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My housemate Edward and I bought two 1.5-liter bottles of C2 and some chips for some midnight snack, just so you know. Drink up!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is not illegal, but it is vague.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3738754041234553359.post-73799681079259425812012-10-01T21:43:00.003+08:002012-10-01T21:47:18.684+08:00Let The Whatever Begin!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Welcome to my newest incarnation in the blogosphere! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And welcome to the Cyber Philippines! I hope you find your stay awfully boring and un-intellectual.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, earlier I had a very disappointing dinner where what was advertised wasn't necessarily true. I have been thinking of what to post without getting sued by the government, so there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is not illegal but it is vague. Let the whatever begin!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10764024236096108461noreply@blogger.com0