Donne & Donne Archives

June 20, 2007

Dave: The Best Years of Our Lives

Roger sighed.  "Okay.  I grew up in New Jersey.  I ... ran with some guys your mom wouldn't have liked.  Had some problems with ... the ... stuff."  He gestured toward his head.

"Headaches?" Chrys asked.

"No.  The visions.  And ... stuff."

"Such a talent is revered among the civilized."

"Yeah, well, we're talking about Jersey.  I got called 'freak,' 'pansy,' and 'under the influence of vile fiends of the pit.'  Made getting a date for the prom a real pain in the kiester."

"You found one, then?" Chrys raised an eyebrow.  "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Roger smiled. "Until her dad tried to sacrifice me to the Elder Gods."

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July 3, 2007

Dave: The Walls Have Ears

"Let's take a walk, Mr. Donne."

Roger looked at the polite man in the white suit.  "You have a problem with my office?"

"I must insist."  The movement was slight, but Roger was suddenly looking at the business end of a .38.

Roger got up and stretched.  "Could use a walk."  He drained his glass, and grabbed his hat.  "Got a destination in mind, or anywhere the body won't be found for a few days?"

The polite man smiled.  "I do not intend to kill you, Mr. Donne.  Just ... talk."

"I quit marching at gunpoint back in '46.  Better be an interesting conversation." 

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July 9, 2007

Dave: Lack of Focus

It's easy to get distracted  in Faerie.  That's the whole point.  Glamours, wonders, and nothing is as it looks, because nothing could be so breathtaking, attractive, enchanting ...

That's not a problem when you're there on vacation, mind you.  Make the proper arrangements, grease the right palms, have a modestly trustworthy Power as guarantor, and wandering around Faerie is only as dangerous as visiting Cairo, or Hong Kong, or Paris, or New York.

Try to sneak in, though, or bluff your way past the Borders ... and you're half-blind, half-defeated from the get-go.

Which is why, despite my preparations, I never saw them coming.

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July 10, 2007

Dave: The Memory Eaters


She was behind him, leg sweeping, driving his head into the polished wood of the floor.  Hard.

When the star shells stopped going off in his skull, she was atop of him, fury in her eyes, a long, ceremonial dagger in her hand, and his throat. 

"What are you doing in my house?" she hissed.  "How do you know my name? Did the Jade Court send you?  Did Lin Shao send you?"

Roger thought of Lin Shao hiring him, and couldn't help but smile.  "I think you've forgotten how Lin feels about me.  I think you've forgotten a lot of stuff, Chrys."

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August 1, 2007

Dave: "Strange Allies"

"What did you do in the war, Daddy?"

Roger glanced at Chrys, who was reading a large book.  He gave Dina a crooked smile.  "Well, Daddy fought werewolves once.  And a djinn in a desert cave.  And vampires in Rumania, and he personally, personally drove a silver dagger through the eye of a fallen angel that was helping the Nazis."

Dina looked at him with grave eyes, then rolled them in a fashion that only young kids could.  "Da-deee," she chided, then skipped off.

Chrys spoke from behind her book.  "The least you could do is lie to her."

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August 3, 2007

Dave: Informed Sources

"I was talking to Mrs. Vincent today."

"I thought you hated Mrs. Vincent.  You said she smelled like an old bag of --"

"She does.  But she knows everything that goes on around here."

"I thought you hated gossip.  You said it was like old crows sitting on the --"

"Except when it's for business.  Mrs. Vincent was talking to Mrs. Horowitz yesterday."

"She's the one you say looks like --"

"She does.  But she told Mrs. Vincent that Mr. Deodato told Tony the Grocer that there's something happening to vagrants down on Skid Row.  That they're disappearing."

"That happens."

"Yeah, but parts are being left behind."

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August 8, 2007

Dave: Four Words

"Can you keep a secret?  Even from the cops?"

"Depends."  Roger shrugged.  "Depends on the money involved, the risk, and whether I think the world would be better off with the cops knowing about it.  That last doesn't happen often, but it sometimes does."

The man in the rumpled suit bit his lower lip, then nodded.  He leaned over the desk toward Roger.  His breath was old.  He whispered four words.

Roger wasn't sure when he'd stood up, let alone when he'd fired his gun. 

The man looked up at him from the floor and smiled.  "Now -- it's yours to keep."

Roger shot him again.

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August 16, 2007

Dave: Cutting Remarks

"This blade is very sharp, Mr. Donne."

"I believe you."

"It can be used to pierce through to your heart ... or to simply carve off slices of my choosing."

"I said I believed you.  No need to demonstrate, pal."

"I'm not your pal."

"No, no, I guess not.  Though most folks know me a while, they kinda grow to like me."

"I don't intend to know you a while."

"Yeah, kinda figured."

"Though I do have a few hours -- and you -- to kill.  Will you grow on me, Mr. Donne?  Or simply bleed on me?"

"Don't suppose you'd rather go out for a beer?"

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August 21, 2007

Dave: Long Day, Long Night

Roger slumped into the wingback chair.  He'd been all over town searching for the vase -- including chasing Tony Marcozzi a good mile over a couple of the city's tallest hills before finding out that Tony didn't really know anything involved in the case.

He pondered staggering to the kitchen to grab a Schlitz -- but the fact was, he didn't want to do anything that involved standing, moving, or not just sitting there quietly in the parlor's twilight gloom.

The front door opened and Chrys was looming there, grocery bags in hand. "Honey?  What are you doing?  Mother is going to be here in thirty minutes!"

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August 29, 2007

Dave: The Empty Room

"I hate locked room mysteries," Chrys pouted.

Roger shrugged.

"I mean it!  And you know why?"

Roger shrugged again.  He'd heard it before, but he certainly wasn't going to interrupt her.  Once was enough.

"Because they're never the 'mystery' people think they are.  Haunts.  Faeries. Magicians. Psychics.  Demons."

"Deities," Roger suggested.

"Oh, yes, deities.  And that's not even counting half my family.  And all of a thousand flavors and homelands.  It's a wonder anyone vanishes from an unlocked room."

Roger let her voice fade into the background as his eyes started taking in details of the chamber from which Mr. Duffy had disappeared last night, screaming.

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