A little taste...

The door opened and a very grumpy, very wet Gibber stood on the stoop.  He looked as though he was chewing a wasp.  The rain was coming down in sheets, it was so cold the breath you expelled appeared to freeze as soon as it left your body and it was almost two in the morning.

“This had better be bloody good.” He said pushing past Blint who was standing in the doorway in a white cotton nightshirt and bare feet.

“Oh it is.” He said closing the door and stepping on a very wet footprint.  “You could have wiped your feet.”

Gibber glared at him over his shoulder.

Blint danced his way around Gibber as the elderly man took off his coat and hung it beside the door and began pulling his boots off.  His socks were odd and full of holes.  Blint almost felt bad for a moment but there wasn’t the money in cleaning that everyone thought that there was.  He started his way up the first flight of stairs to where his sitting room was located.  Gibber followed grumbling.

He had been in the middle of his favourite dream the one where the bakery wall fell down next door to the knocking shop and the w****s were covered in custard.  It was just getting to the good bit too when that toothless wonder had knocked on his door.  He was already in a snit about his dream being interrupted but being woken by a toothless messenger with limited personal hygiene and a very bad attitude pissing in one of his pot plants had only made his mood worse.  He would be asking for a raise.

At the top of the stairs the room opened out into a low ceiling space with a few threadbare chairs and a rug that looked somewhat familiar.  There was a fireplace on the right hand wall that was lit and pumping out a little heat into the space.  The windows were covered with a swathe of some dark red fabric and stooped by the window was the huge man from the bar who had killed that bloke with one punch.

Gibber grabbed Blint by the sleeve and dragged him back towards him.

“He broke into your house?” Gibber whispered.

Blint nodded frantically. “That’s not really the best bit.”

“No, that wouldn’t be my idea of the best bit.”

“I’ll explain everything.  Here, get warm by the fire.” Blint said motioning towards a green armchair that Gibber thought might have once actually been blue.

Gibber took a seat and the large man by the window moved towards the fire.  Gibber felt his entire body tense at the sight of him.  He was huge.  He was built like an ox, muscle rippled from everywhere, his head was bald, his skin dark and his eyes shone like diamonds.  He was the type of man that other men wished they were; to prevent themselves being killed by this one.

He was dressed completely in black and he wore long boots that covered most of his calf.  He looked like a pirate themed rock face.

“This is Stavius.” Blint said rubbing his hands together; he had just realized he was cold. “He’s got a very important job to do and he needs our help.”

“Our help?” Gibber repeated.  “What does he need us to do?” His tone indicated he knew it was really his help that was being offered with Blint supervising.

“Well first he has to tell you a little story.”

“Does it have custard in it?” Gibber asked flippantly.

Stavius and Dubious looked at him confused.

“Nevermind…what’s this story then and if it is long can we just do the highlights?”

Stavius sat down on the floor beside the fire and started to speak.

After a couple of minutes a small brandy appeared under Gibber’s nose.  “You’ll need this.” Dubious whispered.

* * *

“He’s serious isn’t he?” Gibber asked looking at Blint.

Blint nodded, he looked like a child on Christmas morning.

“I am very serious.” Stavius confirmed. He had been through this once already with Blint. It was getting easier.

“But that’s…impossible.”

“That’s what I said!” Blint cried in excitement. “Do the thing.” He looked at Stavius who rolled his eyes.

“Thing? What thing?” Gibber looked worried as Stavius got to his feet, stopped before the clock on the mantle over the fireplace and wafted his hands around a little in front of it.

After a few seconds there was a shift in the light, as though a prism was shining onto the air itself, hanging there, a rainbow of colour without colour. It shifted and twisted and grew larger and into an egg shape. It was almost imperceptible, except when you looked at it, and looking around it made you feel a little sick. Gibber’s jaw dropped open as Stavius delved his hand into the small shape.

His arm vanished up to his elbow and after a few seconds he pulled through a small, moth-eaten, teddy bear that looked as though it had seen much better days a very long time ago.

Gibber squeaked.

“Mr. Farley?” He said grasping the toy from Stavius’ hand. “How did you..?”

“He opened up a portal in time and grabbed it.” Blint explained eyeing the bear as though it were contagious.

“So he is telling the truth. Can I keep this?”

“No.” Stavius said and reclaimed the bear, sliding his hand back inside the portal. “If you keep it now you never had it back then, which means it could not exist now.”

“Oh.” Was all Gibber managed before he looked up at Blint who was grinning down at him. “So what are we supposed to do to help a guy that can steal children’s toys from back in time?”

“That Gibber…that is the best part.”

* * *

Barry lazed across his chaise.  Plebo had almost given up trying to capture him, he had figured out that a Godlier image was what Barry desired and he did not need him to sit for that.  Pure creativity he could do by himself.  He peered around the canvas, smiled nervously and went back to reinventing Barry as a specimen of physical perfection.  He would leave the hair though, the hair had a certain something.  There was a loud belch then a cackle of laughter.  Barry really was a simple creature.

The door opened behind him letting in a rush of warm air and he turned around to face the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was tall, slim with curves where curves should be and draped in a semi-sheer ivory toga. Plebo dropped his brush with a clatter. Destiny looked at him and smiled. She was used to having that effect.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Her voice was like liquid honey. “But I need to speak with Barry.”

Barry jumped to his feet and began frantically smoothing his toga and wafting his arms to disperse the belch smell.

“I will wait outta-side.” Plebo bowed a little and headed for the door, taking a long look at the back of Destiny as he closed the door silently.

She side-stepped the easel with a smirk as she saw the painting; creative license was alive and well.

“Barry.” She smiled. “The Council are ready to meet with The Lesser Gods now. A few things have happened and well…It turns out Yosocke…”

“Yosocketes.” Barry offered.

“What a strange name. Yes, Yosocketes was indeed correct. It seems that a mortal may have discovered a way to render the Gods useless and obsolete.”

Barry gulped.

“Um…” He started. Her golden eyes looked him up and down. She made it very hard for a man to think. “I will send them to you straight away.” He finished. Inside his skull his brain threw itself off a cliff.

“Thank you.” She purred and turned to leave. “Perhaps when your artist has captured your image he would be so kind as to do the same for me.”

“I’ll send him across with compliments now, he can finish mine another time.”

“Most kind.” She said and left.

Barry dropped onto the chaise with a thud, whimpered and used that ungodly word again that began with F.

* * *

He was running. It wasn’t easy and he didn’t like it much. He was wheezing too. He wasn’t built for this. His days of running were behind him. Or so he thought. He careered around a corner and almost crashed into a jardinière that was sporting a particularly spiky fern and bounced off the opposite wall with a thud. That was going to leave a nasty bruise. He skidded as he tried to avoid a cherub that was walking while looking behind itself and swore at it as he passed. It reciprocated with a rather un-cherub-like hand gesture.

The floors were always polished to a high shine the nymphs loved it, especially when the goddesses with the floaty, shorter skirts walked past it was often like a mirror. It was not designed for travelling at speed. Some people even floated over it, never touching it, but Barry had never mastered levitation. He hadn’t mastered much actually but that wasn’t his job. His job was to go with the flow. That he could do, as he interpreted it meant doing nothing.

The corridor opened out into an indoor-outdoor space, lots of glass, a wall of water that channelled under the floor to feed the plants and the water feature that trickled away supposedly to create a serene and Zen-like atmosphere. It made him want to pee. He slowed to a brisk walk it was frowned upon to go rushing through these serene spaces and struggled to get around two goddesses meandering through the space gossiping about something or other. Usually he liked nothing more than a bit of gossip but today was different, today he was either going to save the world or make a huge mess. He wasn’t truly confident about which but all he did know was this time he could not sit back and do nothing.

The Hall of Mortality loomed over him as he left the corridor and turned right. He hated this place. He hated most of the places here that weren’t his chambers or the dining halls. He stopped. Had he thought this through? Properly? Someone said hello as they passed him. He grunted and looked around confused for a moment; too much on his mind. He took a deep breath, smoothed down his wayward hair and strode into the Hall of Mortality in his most Godly fashion.

At the desk the goblin just started at him open-mouthed. After a few seconds Artim waved him towards the portal where he wasn’t stopped either. He looked determined and determined meant trouble for anyone who got in his way.

After he vanished into the portal the goblin got down from his pile of cushions and walked towards a small cage that hung on the far wall. In it sat a slightly larger goblin, more points and a few gold teeth. He was counting on his fingers and muttering. After a second he looked up.

“What?”

“Two Lesser Gods and one liaison went down…there…earlier. Barry just followed them. I am thinking this might be worth mentioning to the Cataclysm Committee.”

The goblin in the cage glared at him for a moment and then unhooked the cage door.

“Ok I agree. Let’s shut down this popsicle stand.”

* * *

Reviews

[Justin]

that was a really great start :) :) i cant wait to read more :)

[Aravelle]

Thanks Justin, I find getting started the easy part. :D

[Justin]

your welcome aravelle :) that is the hard part is getting started :P