Chris Wooding Glimpses

[Chris Wooding]

The only thing darker than the ink in his fountain-pen are the ruling shadows of his eternal night. An eternal night so far successfully spent. That is, when you look back at the results. Several points in between were more than dramatic for Chris Wooding. At this time though he is Hierophant, Priscus and ready for more.

The only thing making more noise than the pen itself is the Hierophant’s homunculus, Micky. The creature is cracking a mouse’s bones between his teeth. Poor thing, wrong place wrong time.

The combination of ink, a pen and a piece of paper should result in a letter to Asa Clarke, the Prince of Sacramento. And yes, Chris is nervous while writing it. Looking at Micky and his half-eaten mouse is actually a positive distraction every now and then.

So I think this is a great time to give this whole plan a shot. Normally for a position application I would go through safer channels: to people less likely to erase my reputation.

He looks out of the window towards the moon, making a silent prayer to the Goddess.

But it seems all the appropriate channels have disappeared.

So he starts writing...

[Chris Wooding]

Everyone has them, lonely nights. At such nights all you can do is think about other nights. And when all you have is the night, memories can be quite dramatic. Chris is sitting at his desk, scratching his homunculus' head as if it is a dog that needs to be petted. Fortunately, at least Micky is always there for his master.

Because I have lost so much in such a short time. I guess it all started with losing my need for fresh air.

1973: Some of the last necessary heartbeats

A normal night at a normal club. The crowd is dancing. Alcohol flows easily. It is late, multiple heated moments have already occurred. Sharon Miller has an eye on Chris, and a young man as he wouldn’t say no to some more fun. As the music slows down the pace of Chris’ heartbeat only accelerates. The beautiful blonde approaches him with a stunning smile. Motown music allowed some romance.

'Come with me….'

That dumb neonate girl. What did she think? Embracing someone. One decisions ruined his life and her own unlife. Yes, it was exciting back then. Yes, it was confusing back then. And yes, the few positive things lasted only until the rest of San Francisco found out the Second Tradition had been breached.

'… to walk in the night, forever. With no need to worry.'

If only that promise had at least been partially true…

[Chris Wooding]

Continued from Part I

Still lonely, but no longer in the mood to be seated, Chris stands in the middle of his Haven. He feels like staring ominously out of a window… but there are no windows here. Now ignored by his master, Micky is playing hide and seek with his food – using several corners and currently the couch.

But what does it matter?

Because, maybe Chris would move out soon. Or, maybe he has to give up his Homunculus friend soon. Nothing is certain, it saddens him. Apparently even the petite monstrosity that ordered to kill your Sire could walk into Court at any night. Chris had not been there that moment, but even rumors of her presence in the City made him shiver back then.

Now, somewhere inside still feeling like a neonate, he stares into nothingness. He cannot stop the memories from coming.

1975: A Conclusion to the Series of Unfortunate Events

'Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here tonight for the Trial of Sharon Miller and her Childe, Chris Wooding. With his Embrace, Laws have been broken. The Traditions have been endangered.' A girl so little with a voice so strong. It fills the whole room. Not many Kindred had gathered, yet there were only faces Chris had never seen before. The pale predators of the night were here for his Trial. Chris had tried to forget this night. Forget the pain he felt, an unnatural pain, but nonetheless unbearable.

.....

The little girl smiles. 'I, Mary Anne, in name of Prince Janzem, sentence Sharon Miller, Childe of Edward Bennet, to her Final Death.' Her voice is dry, she almost shrugs, this part of the sentence was obvious in her opinion. Edward Bennet did try to raise a Childe, but Sharon Miller herself simply Embraced the first cute guy she came along – as soon as she knew how. One should not call it a lack of responsibility. No. It seemed nonexistent.

.....

Chris vaguely remembers how Mary Anne explained the situation after the first judgement. Bennet and his Childe were both considered incapable of Embracing someone and taking good care afterwards. Yet, the poor neonate boy had not chosen this Damnation on his path. "Volunteers" could further teach Chris Wooding about the Kindred society, to have him Banned at the time he could take care of himself. All in the name of mercy.

The poor neonate boy himself would never forget this moment. Chris had tried to cry, but couldn't. He had tried to scream, but couldn't. He had tried to move, run and flee… but couldn't. Strong arms around him had everything under control, and time was ticking. Mary Anne was not known for her patience. She childishly swung her arms along her old fashioned dress. With every move she made Chris had become more nervous. He was sure his heart would stop beating if he had not been dead already.

.....

Then... he hears a beautiful voice. Wonderful, mostly because it was not Mary Anne speaking. 'I, Lily Thornton, shall take upon me the responsibilty of raising this Childe as if it were my own. The Destruction of one of Her Children is quite enough for the night.' Chris could not believe what he was hearing. All the other voices from that moment on seemed unimportant.

Even the stupid girl with her twin tails: 'The town recluse, wonderful. You shall soon be given further instructions, Miss Thornton... Now, remove the neonate from this room. There is no need for him to see this.' And so he got carried away, towards a better future. Again he could cry, in happiness this time. Even the last words sticking at the end of this memory could not taint his thankfulness for the then still mysterious Lily. 'Remove the stake from Miss Miller's heart. Wake her up. I want to share her last moments with her...'

[Chris Wooding]

It's a late summer night. The day must have been good, all nice and sunny, for now the sky is bright. And colorful. Far from the center of the city, Chris is enjoying the silence of the Crone farm. He's lying in the grass somewhere away from the herd of kine. Looking upwards.

I wonder how many people take their time to look at the stars these days. It's a stunning view.

Especially when you have enhanced senses like the Mekhet. Really, you should try it once. The warmth of the sun is surely nice, but hardly something Chris remembers. The colorful night sky is not something he will never forget.

How can people believe this all just appeared, with a Big Bang? Or even claim there is proof. Science? As if we can ever reach an ultimate truth. No. One lecture on philosophy of science can tell you that. And they - Popper, Kant, to name a few - can endlessly theorize about the smallest things. Then the universe, it's something our minds can never fathom.

The existence of everything around him is enough prove that there is a godly being at work. A goddess with no name. Names are created by humans, given to their gods. It only limits them, it, or whatever. There's no language to describe the Crone. If she was something we understood, she wouldn't be a goddess - being, something.

'The Crone. Mother of all,' the Hierophant whispers, if he has to give it a name that's enough. He would forget all pantheons, but there's enough room in his religious view to use names for symbolism.

If only to be able to work properly with fellow Acolytes.

While he is busy admiring everything big and small, close as the earth beneath him and far as the stars above - soft footsteps approach. A woman with bare feet.

'Hi Chris, whatca doin' out there?' It's a sweet calm voice, of one of the kine.

'Come lie beside me and you'll see.' He smiles while he pats the grass beside him. Without a word she follows his instructions. She's the dreamy type, she does this all the time. She can hardly see what Chris is looking at, and yet she's satisfied. Amazing.

'Give me your hand,' he suggest, sweetly. She giggles, and they hold hands for a while. Minutes pass by. Then he moves the hand.

To his lips. And then further. He brings her wrist closer. To his teeth.

She gasps shortly, but then the effects of the Kiss have already kicked in. She tastes almost divine.

What a perfect night.

[Chris Wooding]

Not too long ago...

It is already getting dark sooner, and when you're one of the Shadows, enjoy those times to the fullest. Now it's only early in the evening, with enough time to get a lot of things done. Chris is sitting in his bedroom, leaning on a desk. He's staring at his laptop in near darkness. Only a small light is on, but as a Mekhet he can easily save money by reducing electricity bills, right? Because he would need a lot of his money for something else...

Halloween. Oh yeah!

The Hierophant shared ideas with his Circle, the true meaning of All Hallow's Eve would be celebrated at the Crone Farm this year. But everyone would be able to attend, there would be music, a stage, perhaps a bar, maybe fireworks? You can scare demons away in many ways. He has it all planned out. A notebook with his To-do-list lies beside the laptop. He just needs to make a few calls.

To who?

He scratches the back of his head. If you need a band, where do you find one? The academic occultist has no media or entertainment connections whatsoever. He just studies media. Better start with something easier, get a stage and all the other necessary stuff. You can just rent that...

-----

Or not.

Is everything booked already? Seriously? Come on, I really need some things to make this work. And I'm not going to buy everything, I only need it once.

Would he ask for help? From who? Every acolyte is so new to the city that it seems unlikely that they know a lot of useful people. Of course, Dirge can sing. Man, what a festive happening that would become!

Nope.

Maybe he should try some of his academic connections. All students party, they must know a few good bands? Or just one DJ. An optimistic smile appears as he grabs his phone...

-----

Damnit. Of course no one wants to play at a farm. It's all too risky, no one could show up.

Chris really wanted this party. He even told Daniella Sage and Max Heinz already. A stupid move. He has always been too eager, too enthusiastic. When will the time come that he benefits from those personal qualities?

And what is he even trying? Spend one second on Google and a few amazing nightclubs will pop up. Clubs where everyone will be going to. Clubs owned by the Prince. Is the Hierophant trying to compete with him? Bad idea.

He shakes his head as he shuts his laptop down. 'Fuck this.' Then Chris walks away and puts his coat on. It better be raining outside.

Someone's going to lose a few pints of blood tonight.