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Ceramic DM Winter 07 (Final Judgment Posted)
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<blockquote data-quote="BSF" data-source="post: 3323727" data-attributes="member: 13098"><p><strong>Round 1, Match 4 - Piratecat vs BSF</strong></p><p><strong>Untitled</strong></p><p></p><p>“A were-frog?”</p><p></p><p>“Were-toad, I made you one of us last night when I bit you in the middle of our love-making.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, bloody hell Lucinda!” I craned my neck to look at my shoulder where she had bit me last night. “You barely drew blood and now you are trying tell me that like some sort of witch you are turning me into a frog?” I looked into her brownish-green eyes to make sure the poor girl wasn't too unbalanced. That is just what I needed, to have bedded another loony.</p><p></p><p>“Do not call me a witch! I do not curse you with spells and devour your soul. I bit you while we shared our passion. Now you are one of us. Soon the rains will come and I will see if our union has produced any young. Then next year you will return to us. You and I might mate again.”</p><p></p><p>Lucinda's voice carried too much excitement and conviction for me to be comfortable. I decided that I had better play along until I could summon a taxi to take me from here. Far from here. I began gathering my clothes so I could sneak back to my room before her father woke.</p><p></p><p>“Sure I will return, but it is difficult to say when. Sometimes my father needs me and I can't take holiday whenever I want.” She would appreciate my declared familial obligations, even it if was a little white lie. Ok, a big lie. I was the rake of the family and I pretty much do take holiday anytime I wanted. </p><p></p><p>She sat up in bed, watching me with a coy smile on her face. “Oh you will be back Hugh. Probably not this year because the rains come soon and the change will not be complete. But by next year you will return.”</p><p></p><p>I returned her smile as I slunk out the door. By breakfast I was packed and had placed a call for a taxi to the local airport. I sat there taking my morning tea and eating sausage and eggs while Lucinda giggled on the other side of the room while talking with her mother and sister. Suddenly Na-na, her mother, stood and waddled across the small breakfast room. She placed both hands on my cheeks and looked directly into my eyes. Then a smile crept across her face and she cried out, “Welcome! Welcome to the family. I see it too, you are one of us now!” </p><p></p><p>It was discomfiting, I tell you. I am a philanderer. You might call it my hobby. I have had to make a rapid departure many times in my life. Usually I am being chased and things are being thrown with words like debauched and womanizer used to describe me. But never have I been welcomed into the family as if I had just proposed . Lucinda's father, Milos, walked in from the kitchen. </p><p></p><p>“Did you call for a taxi?”</p><p></p><p>Milos was kind enough to load my luggage into the waiting taxi as I settled my bill for the previous week. It was a beautiful bed and breakfast and I paused to look out across the lake one last time before I left. Suddenly Milos pulled my shirt back off my shoulder and peered and the hickey Lucinda had left the night before. I shook free and raised my fists in case he intended to box me. Instead he smiled and embraced me in a hug. Then he opened the door of the taxi for me. Before the taxi pulled away he leaned over and spoke through the window.</p><p></p><p>“Do yourself a favor, don't fight the pull when you feel it. It will only make things worse. Embrace it and accept that you are one of us now.”</p><p></p><p>I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of relief as I boarded the plane for London later that evening. Lucinda's entire family seemed to be infected with her delusions and I was happy to put them behind me, forever.</p><p></p><p>~ ~ ~ ~ ~</p><p></p><p>Imagine my dismay fourteen months later as I found myself booking a flight and taxi back to that little Spanish town. I had been sick for days, nauseous and shaking, and none of the doctors could explain why. All I could dream about were the cool waters of the lake where I first met Lucinda. Milos' words haunted me. As daft as it sounds, I had to know if they were right. Against my better judgment, I packed for a trip.</p><p></p><p>I didn't even make it to the bed and breakfast. The taxi rounded the curve in the mountains and I could see the lake spread out before me. I ordered the driver to stop. Staggering out the door and pushing a wad of bills into his hand I asked him to continue with my baggage. I could see storm clouds in the distance and I stumbled down toward the lake and began hiking along the shore, toward Lucinda's house. </p><p></p><p>I don't know how long it took me, I remember looking down at my hands in the mud and trying to puzzle out why my hands were dirty. Then I looked up and there was Lucinda's family coming toward me. They were walking on their hands and feet. Na-na was first, with her red blouse and crazy grin. Milos was a bit further back, watching his daughters. Lucinda and Francisca both wore the traditional head scarves marking them as unmarried. (picture 1_4_2.jpg)</p><p></p><p>Na-na sat down next to me in the mud. “It is good to see you once again,” she said simply as I shuddered. </p><p></p><p>“I warned you not to fight the pull my young friend. Why did you wait so long?” Milos looked genuinely concerned. </p><p></p><p>Lucinda simply sat down and began to sing a strange, throaty tune as the rain advanced across the lake. I could scarcely believe my eyes when she seemed to shrink and change as the first rain drops hit her. But then the rain touched me and I finally understood. </p><p></p><p>I sat there in the mud with Lucinda's family for the rest of the month. We would sing beautiful ballads in our croaky voices and chase each other through the mud and water of the lake. I try not to think of what we ate during that time. Suffice to say that it didn't seem disgusting at the time. </p><p></p><p>I sat with Milos overlooking the lake that September, coming to grips with who I was now and what it all meant. “You mean I must return here every year or I will die?”</p><p></p><p>Milos lit a cigar. “Oh yes, you are one of us now and your fate is tied to the lake's fate.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait, what? My fate, our fate, is tied to the lake? So what happens if the lake dries up or somesuch as that?” A memory was nagging the back of my mind. Something I had read in the paper before I left London.</p><p></p><p>Milos pondered for a moment. “Our kind was born here and can only live here. There are other clans around the lake who I will introduce you to soon. But I suppose if something happened to the lake, we would all die.”</p><p></p><p>It took nearly a week to track down that dim memory. But then I had it and it worried me. It was a big story about an English company that was developing a nearby town. They had won permission to divert a river to create a nicer resort town. The same river that filled the lake here. I moped for a few weeks without telling Lucinda's family.</p><p></p><p>By that time, I had fumbled across a possible idea. The company had been founded by the Anselm family. They weren't an old British family as mine was, but they had been ascending through social circles for some time. Like all respectable families, they too had their own share of ne'er do wells. This generation's was a girl named Gemma. Even better, she had a token seat on the board of directors, and she was unmarried.</p><p></p><p>I am a ladies man, surely I could persuade her to change the direction of the board somehow.</p><p></p><p>A week later I was in London learning all I could about Gemma Anselm. While my hobbies included carousing and womanizing, she was interested in the occult. In fact, her family had purchased, or inherited, nobody was quite sure, a castle in Germany. Lady Gemma spent quite a bit of time there.</p><p></p><p>It took two more weeks for me to finagle an invitation to a stuffy luncheon that I knew she would be at as well. We hit it off famously! There was only one real problem but of course that problem had a solution. </p><p></p><p>Lady Gemma was a virgin and she wasn't prepared to break her chastity for anything short of marriage. Mind you, when a free spirit such as myself hears the word marriage, it causes a certain shrinkage in the, soul. However, the prospect of an early death does warrant the reconsideration of certain freedoms. Nonetheless, I made every effort to give Gemma the same gift that Lucinda had given me, without the necessity of marriage.</p><p></p><p>As I said though, there was also a solution. Gemma had an older brother and an older sister, both whom sat on the board of director's for their late father's company. All three were unmarried, but it was their father's directive that the first married child would be given the directorship of the company. Gemma confided in me one night that she had used magic to keep her brother and her sister from marrying. She was biding her time to find the right gentleman to marry so she could ascend to the head of the company. Her chastity was what powered her spells so that her siblings would not beat her to the altar. </p><p></p><p>I was dubious, though I cannot explain why. After all, I was cursed as a were-toad, why dismiss the idea that Gemma was casting spells powered by her chastity? Instead, I resolved myself, bought an engagement diamond and proposed to her the next week. What can I say? It took me a while to gather my resolve.</p><p></p><p>To my great disappointment, Gemma insisted that we journey to her family's castle for our honeymoon. I had hoped for someplace a bit more romantic, and warm. But she insisted that the framework of her spells was erected in the castle. Once she removed the spells, her siblings would be free to act as they wished, and she would be free to break her chastity. </p><p></p><p>It was late January for the wedding. We exchanged vows outside a church and then clambered into the maw of a bulldozer to symbolize the ascension of Gemma to the director's chair of her father's company. (picture 1_4_4.jpg). As we rode down the street, Gemma leaned over towards me. “I will be sending this bulldozer to Spain next week for a big project we are beginning.” I quickly turned toward her to protest, but then I looked into her laughing eyes. Instead, I kept my protests to myself. Let he have her wedding day. After the honeymoon, after she was one of us, she would rethink her decision. And since she was now the director, her decision would stand. </p><p></p><p>As the automobile ascended the mountain toward the castle I reflected that it was quite a gothic affair. (picture 1_4_3.jpg) Very angular and foreboding, and the seeming vortex of clouds about the castle did little to make me feel better. </p><p></p><p>“It is Imbolc evening my darling Hugh, carry me across the threshold and then I will lead you upstairs to your reward.” Gemma's words were sweet like honey and I happily acquiesced, thoughts of conjugal bliss in the forefront of my mind. </p><p></p><p>Inside, the castle was dark with few lights. Gemma lead me up the stairs by the hand. I could feel her grip tightening in anticipation of what was to come. I almost felt bad for what I had planned. I would bind her to the lake as tightly as I was bound. Once she realized the danger of diverting the river, she would change her plans and I would be safe. </p><p></p><p>She guided me into her bed chamber, lit by hundreds of flickering candles. They must have been lit by servants as we arrived, I supposed. “Sit her.” With a gesture she directed me to a pedestal. The room was opulent and decadent, in a creepy sort of way. I could see a cauldron in one corner. Shelves with books and jars. A mortar and pestle. An immense four poster bed sprawled before me and Gemma stood before it, looking radiant. I was entranced.</p><p></p><p>Perhaps that is why I didn't notice her chanting as she slowly undid her dress? As her wedding dress fell to the floor, I gasped lightly in surprise. What she wore beneath her wedding clothes is not what I had expected to see my virgin bride in. It was at that time that I noticed my clothes had also fallen to the floor. Something had abruptly changed and I had missed it! My vision had changed slightly, my perspective had dropped so I felt shorter. I was completely atop the pedestal. I was also in my toad form. I opened my mouth to cry out, and Gemma completed the last syllable. I was transfixed like that, a toad atop a pedestal with my mouth in an O shape. (picture 1_4_1.jpg)</p><p></p><p>Gemma strode across the room and pulled an old black cloak off a wall hook. She threw it around her shoulders, looking the picture of the perfect witch. </p><p></p><p>“You know Hugh, I knew who you were and where you had been from the first moment I saw you. My great, great, grandmother was betrayed by her toad, did you know that? Did they tell you how they came to be at that little Spanish lake? They have a little magic all their own don't they? But they need to bring in men from the outside to spawn the next generation.” </p><p></p><p>Gemma walked over to the cauldron, a fire lighting as she approached. She stirred the contents a few times, ladled the contents into a small bowl and picked up a horsehair paint brush. </p><p></p><p>“But my family couldn't easily exact our revenge upon them. We were blocked by protective magics stolen from us! But then you came to me. There is a poetic symmetry here. I am sure you planned to betray me as well. Perhaps you thought to convince me that I shouldn't destroy that lake? You feel the pull of the magic there don't you Hugh? No matter though. I won;t divert the river, not now. Your essence permeates that bulldozer. I doubt you ever felt the magic. But now the bulldozer will crush their homes and the pathetic little toads as well. Then I recover the magic hearthstone they stole from this castle.”</p><p></p><p>Dipping the brush into the bowl, Gemma began to brush some strange liquid onto my back. Somehow, I knew she was binding me into this shape permanently. I could feel the magic seeping into my pores.</p><p></p><p>“One last question Hugh. You swore to honor, serve and protect me didn't you? Do you know what a familiar is?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="BSF, post: 3323727, member: 13098"] [b]Round 1, Match 4 - Piratecat vs BSF[/b] [b]Untitled[/b] “A were-frog?” “Were-toad, I made you one of us last night when I bit you in the middle of our love-making.” “Oh, bloody hell Lucinda!” I craned my neck to look at my shoulder where she had bit me last night. “You barely drew blood and now you are trying tell me that like some sort of witch you are turning me into a frog?” I looked into her brownish-green eyes to make sure the poor girl wasn't too unbalanced. That is just what I needed, to have bedded another loony. “Do not call me a witch! I do not curse you with spells and devour your soul. I bit you while we shared our passion. Now you are one of us. Soon the rains will come and I will see if our union has produced any young. Then next year you will return to us. You and I might mate again.” Lucinda's voice carried too much excitement and conviction for me to be comfortable. I decided that I had better play along until I could summon a taxi to take me from here. Far from here. I began gathering my clothes so I could sneak back to my room before her father woke. “Sure I will return, but it is difficult to say when. Sometimes my father needs me and I can't take holiday whenever I want.” She would appreciate my declared familial obligations, even it if was a little white lie. Ok, a big lie. I was the rake of the family and I pretty much do take holiday anytime I wanted. She sat up in bed, watching me with a coy smile on her face. “Oh you will be back Hugh. Probably not this year because the rains come soon and the change will not be complete. But by next year you will return.” I returned her smile as I slunk out the door. By breakfast I was packed and had placed a call for a taxi to the local airport. I sat there taking my morning tea and eating sausage and eggs while Lucinda giggled on the other side of the room while talking with her mother and sister. Suddenly Na-na, her mother, stood and waddled across the small breakfast room. She placed both hands on my cheeks and looked directly into my eyes. Then a smile crept across her face and she cried out, “Welcome! Welcome to the family. I see it too, you are one of us now!” It was discomfiting, I tell you. I am a philanderer. You might call it my hobby. I have had to make a rapid departure many times in my life. Usually I am being chased and things are being thrown with words like debauched and womanizer used to describe me. But never have I been welcomed into the family as if I had just proposed . Lucinda's father, Milos, walked in from the kitchen. “Did you call for a taxi?” Milos was kind enough to load my luggage into the waiting taxi as I settled my bill for the previous week. It was a beautiful bed and breakfast and I paused to look out across the lake one last time before I left. Suddenly Milos pulled my shirt back off my shoulder and peered and the hickey Lucinda had left the night before. I shook free and raised my fists in case he intended to box me. Instead he smiled and embraced me in a hug. Then he opened the door of the taxi for me. Before the taxi pulled away he leaned over and spoke through the window. “Do yourself a favor, don't fight the pull when you feel it. It will only make things worse. Embrace it and accept that you are one of us now.” I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of relief as I boarded the plane for London later that evening. Lucinda's entire family seemed to be infected with her delusions and I was happy to put them behind me, forever. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Imagine my dismay fourteen months later as I found myself booking a flight and taxi back to that little Spanish town. I had been sick for days, nauseous and shaking, and none of the doctors could explain why. All I could dream about were the cool waters of the lake where I first met Lucinda. Milos' words haunted me. As daft as it sounds, I had to know if they were right. Against my better judgment, I packed for a trip. I didn't even make it to the bed and breakfast. The taxi rounded the curve in the mountains and I could see the lake spread out before me. I ordered the driver to stop. Staggering out the door and pushing a wad of bills into his hand I asked him to continue with my baggage. I could see storm clouds in the distance and I stumbled down toward the lake and began hiking along the shore, toward Lucinda's house. I don't know how long it took me, I remember looking down at my hands in the mud and trying to puzzle out why my hands were dirty. Then I looked up and there was Lucinda's family coming toward me. They were walking on their hands and feet. Na-na was first, with her red blouse and crazy grin. Milos was a bit further back, watching his daughters. Lucinda and Francisca both wore the traditional head scarves marking them as unmarried. (picture 1_4_2.jpg) Na-na sat down next to me in the mud. “It is good to see you once again,” she said simply as I shuddered. “I warned you not to fight the pull my young friend. Why did you wait so long?” Milos looked genuinely concerned. Lucinda simply sat down and began to sing a strange, throaty tune as the rain advanced across the lake. I could scarcely believe my eyes when she seemed to shrink and change as the first rain drops hit her. But then the rain touched me and I finally understood. I sat there in the mud with Lucinda's family for the rest of the month. We would sing beautiful ballads in our croaky voices and chase each other through the mud and water of the lake. I try not to think of what we ate during that time. Suffice to say that it didn't seem disgusting at the time. I sat with Milos overlooking the lake that September, coming to grips with who I was now and what it all meant. “You mean I must return here every year or I will die?” Milos lit a cigar. “Oh yes, you are one of us now and your fate is tied to the lake's fate.” “Wait, what? My fate, our fate, is tied to the lake? So what happens if the lake dries up or somesuch as that?” A memory was nagging the back of my mind. Something I had read in the paper before I left London. Milos pondered for a moment. “Our kind was born here and can only live here. There are other clans around the lake who I will introduce you to soon. But I suppose if something happened to the lake, we would all die.” It took nearly a week to track down that dim memory. But then I had it and it worried me. It was a big story about an English company that was developing a nearby town. They had won permission to divert a river to create a nicer resort town. The same river that filled the lake here. I moped for a few weeks without telling Lucinda's family. By that time, I had fumbled across a possible idea. The company had been founded by the Anselm family. They weren't an old British family as mine was, but they had been ascending through social circles for some time. Like all respectable families, they too had their own share of ne'er do wells. This generation's was a girl named Gemma. Even better, she had a token seat on the board of directors, and she was unmarried. I am a ladies man, surely I could persuade her to change the direction of the board somehow. A week later I was in London learning all I could about Gemma Anselm. While my hobbies included carousing and womanizing, she was interested in the occult. In fact, her family had purchased, or inherited, nobody was quite sure, a castle in Germany. Lady Gemma spent quite a bit of time there. It took two more weeks for me to finagle an invitation to a stuffy luncheon that I knew she would be at as well. We hit it off famously! There was only one real problem but of course that problem had a solution. Lady Gemma was a virgin and she wasn't prepared to break her chastity for anything short of marriage. Mind you, when a free spirit such as myself hears the word marriage, it causes a certain shrinkage in the, soul. However, the prospect of an early death does warrant the reconsideration of certain freedoms. Nonetheless, I made every effort to give Gemma the same gift that Lucinda had given me, without the necessity of marriage. As I said though, there was also a solution. Gemma had an older brother and an older sister, both whom sat on the board of director's for their late father's company. All three were unmarried, but it was their father's directive that the first married child would be given the directorship of the company. Gemma confided in me one night that she had used magic to keep her brother and her sister from marrying. She was biding her time to find the right gentleman to marry so she could ascend to the head of the company. Her chastity was what powered her spells so that her siblings would not beat her to the altar. I was dubious, though I cannot explain why. After all, I was cursed as a were-toad, why dismiss the idea that Gemma was casting spells powered by her chastity? Instead, I resolved myself, bought an engagement diamond and proposed to her the next week. What can I say? It took me a while to gather my resolve. To my great disappointment, Gemma insisted that we journey to her family's castle for our honeymoon. I had hoped for someplace a bit more romantic, and warm. But she insisted that the framework of her spells was erected in the castle. Once she removed the spells, her siblings would be free to act as they wished, and she would be free to break her chastity. It was late January for the wedding. We exchanged vows outside a church and then clambered into the maw of a bulldozer to symbolize the ascension of Gemma to the director's chair of her father's company. (picture 1_4_4.jpg). As we rode down the street, Gemma leaned over towards me. “I will be sending this bulldozer to Spain next week for a big project we are beginning.” I quickly turned toward her to protest, but then I looked into her laughing eyes. Instead, I kept my protests to myself. Let he have her wedding day. After the honeymoon, after she was one of us, she would rethink her decision. And since she was now the director, her decision would stand. As the automobile ascended the mountain toward the castle I reflected that it was quite a gothic affair. (picture 1_4_3.jpg) Very angular and foreboding, and the seeming vortex of clouds about the castle did little to make me feel better. “It is Imbolc evening my darling Hugh, carry me across the threshold and then I will lead you upstairs to your reward.” Gemma's words were sweet like honey and I happily acquiesced, thoughts of conjugal bliss in the forefront of my mind. Inside, the castle was dark with few lights. Gemma lead me up the stairs by the hand. I could feel her grip tightening in anticipation of what was to come. I almost felt bad for what I had planned. I would bind her to the lake as tightly as I was bound. Once she realized the danger of diverting the river, she would change her plans and I would be safe. She guided me into her bed chamber, lit by hundreds of flickering candles. They must have been lit by servants as we arrived, I supposed. “Sit her.” With a gesture she directed me to a pedestal. The room was opulent and decadent, in a creepy sort of way. I could see a cauldron in one corner. Shelves with books and jars. A mortar and pestle. An immense four poster bed sprawled before me and Gemma stood before it, looking radiant. I was entranced. Perhaps that is why I didn't notice her chanting as she slowly undid her dress? As her wedding dress fell to the floor, I gasped lightly in surprise. What she wore beneath her wedding clothes is not what I had expected to see my virgin bride in. It was at that time that I noticed my clothes had also fallen to the floor. Something had abruptly changed and I had missed it! My vision had changed slightly, my perspective had dropped so I felt shorter. I was completely atop the pedestal. I was also in my toad form. I opened my mouth to cry out, and Gemma completed the last syllable. I was transfixed like that, a toad atop a pedestal with my mouth in an O shape. (picture 1_4_1.jpg) Gemma strode across the room and pulled an old black cloak off a wall hook. She threw it around her shoulders, looking the picture of the perfect witch. “You know Hugh, I knew who you were and where you had been from the first moment I saw you. My great, great, grandmother was betrayed by her toad, did you know that? Did they tell you how they came to be at that little Spanish lake? They have a little magic all their own don't they? But they need to bring in men from the outside to spawn the next generation.” Gemma walked over to the cauldron, a fire lighting as she approached. She stirred the contents a few times, ladled the contents into a small bowl and picked up a horsehair paint brush. “But my family couldn't easily exact our revenge upon them. We were blocked by protective magics stolen from us! But then you came to me. There is a poetic symmetry here. I am sure you planned to betray me as well. Perhaps you thought to convince me that I shouldn't destroy that lake? You feel the pull of the magic there don't you Hugh? No matter though. I won;t divert the river, not now. Your essence permeates that bulldozer. I doubt you ever felt the magic. But now the bulldozer will crush their homes and the pathetic little toads as well. Then I recover the magic hearthstone they stole from this castle.” Dipping the brush into the bowl, Gemma began to brush some strange liquid onto my back. Somehow, I knew she was binding me into this shape permanently. I could feel the magic seeping into my pores. “One last question Hugh. You swore to honor, serve and protect me didn't you? Do you know what a familiar is?” [/QUOTE]
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