First kisses and salt grenades

7.25.07
All right, who let Rubythorn onto this thing? Can faeries even use computers? Must be iron in those machines somewhere.

So that's the book. And that's supposed to be me and Mersey? Hmm... She is a gorgeous bird, clinging to me like a sparrow to a hawk. She looks innocent in the picture, but trust me, blokes, she's a spitfire. A confusing mixture of girlie, adventurous and cat (yeah, I mean cat, as in a feline with four legs, fur and a tail). You ever make out with a woman and realize she's purring? Mersey purrs. Damn, I love her purrs.

Er.

Right.

The picture. Rubythorn is right. That's not me. Handsome enough bloke, but I don't think that fellow could wield the weaponery I carry around on my back, let alone toss a salt grenade and hit a demon between the eyes on the first try. Because there are no second tries.

There's the London Eye in the background. First time I ever went up on that thing was with Mersey. Just the two of us in that glass-enclosed capsule, looking out over the gorgeous London skyline. I think I fell in love with Mersey in that capsule. Or maybe it was when we were tromping through that nutty ever-changing forest in search of faeries.

Or maybe, it was the first time I laid eyes on her. I was hunting demons; she was too. I was all business. She...changed my mind with a kiss.

Watch out, here comes the splendor

7.25.07

I found it! Heh. There it is. A book. About me.

Though, I have begun to page through it and I do not find my name until well into half of the book. I do not understand that. Am I not the one worthy of having a story written about him? That is certainly not me on the cover. I recognize the woman as Mersey Bane. Sweet kitten. She amuses me. I was her first kiss, I will have you know. She makes futile attempts to appear as though she is not attracted to me, but I know better. There are very few women who can resist my devilish allure. It's called splendor, baby. Yeah, you will need sunglasses.

Er, where was I? Oh, the cover. Now who is that man? He holds a crystal that I know the Cadre uses to capture demons. Nifty things. Wish I had a few. Demons generally leave me alone, but there are a few—mischief demons—who really get my goat. (I keep him in my gallery. My goat.) Is that supposed to be Jack Harris on the cover? Much too handsome a fellow to be that gun-toting Harris. The man tricked me once. No one tricks me.

I wonder. The author certainly would not have detailed that embarassing situation in this book. I have to know! There are just so many...words. I cannot... Well, sure I can read. Most things. Sometimes. This is not my usual language. That's it. I must find a sprite. They like to read.

Ta!

I have arrived. Are you ready for me?

Someone wrote a book about me—er, us? Splendid!

Hello, mortals, are you pleased I have finally arrived? Of course you are. I am Raskin Rubythorn, prince of the Black court. Those rumors you may have heard about my ostracization from the court? Pish! They will ask me back. Dark is the day without Rubythorn shining upon your court.

So I must find this books. Books! And me, the star. Surely there could be no other choice, yes? I must send out a minion to fetch a copy. Ten copies! A thousand! And I will have it read to me while I comb my fingers through my hair and preen my wings.

Belladonna is strangely put off by this revelation. Interesting. That woman rarely shows emotion. Rumors have it no one, not even her co-workers, have laid eyes upon her. But I have. And wouldn't you like to know?

But I must be off! I've a book to listen to, and a harem of flutter-feys to gather for tonight's fete in the forest. Elderberry wine, anyone? And you must try the sweetmeats. What? You have heard a mortal should not partake of faery food? Pish!

We've been compromised

7.19.07

I can't believe this. It's just...disturbing.

I saw that two members of the Cadre actually posted here. How can that be? I thought this was private inter-office communications. And then that demon McManus infiltrated our communications? So I did some checking.

It's too incredible to speak. But...well, let me catch my breath.

Someone has written a book about our organization! Detailed the inner workings of our private black-ops organization. And they've included explicit details on the Cadre! And it wasn't just one person. Four different authors wrote books about us. Four! And they've got things in there even I didn't know about my fellow co-workers.

Of course, there are details about the Cadre that P-Cell has been itching to discover. So this can work—what am I saying? This has to stop. These books must not be put out there for public consumption. They could threaten the future of P-Cell. Our hunters would be out there without protection.

And what if one of the stories got into the hands of an OE? I don't even want to think of the calamity.

Signing off right now. Must see to eradicating these authors before the books can be published!

7.15.07

I don't understand why posts from Cadre personnel appear here. I thought this was a secure network. Mersey Bane is on our list of suspected Cadre members. We know Squire Callahan is Cadre.

Hmm...

I must investigate immediately

It's a job

7.11.07
Heh. Demons. You gotta love those blokes. Well, maybe not so much. Love 'em or hate 'em, they're all the same to me. I capture them, contain them in a crystal, and bring them in for interrogation, or storage, whichever is necessary. And then I can take the rest of the day off.

Don't get me wrong, I love stalking demons. It is what I do, and I do it well. I grew up knowing about OEs, and that this mortal realm is not exactly as you see it. They're out there. Everywhere. And I am a means for them to bridge to this realm.

That so sucks.

There are days I really want to be normal. Just a girl who's got herself a handsome guy, and is madly in love, and isn't life all the very best? But I wear these rings, see. They're protection against the one bit of demon who killed my mum. And if I lose the rings, it'll come after me. And yes, I am a familiar. I'm supposed to serve demons as a bridge to this realm, but that doesn't mean I have to like it, or agree to let any old sort through. I'm very particular. No war demons or vengeance demons will get through on my watch.

But there is one. I don't know how it got here. It frightens me.

Sure wish I had someone to protect me. Someone to cling to. To know I can be safe with. Yes, I'm talking about a man. Sigh... Never had much chance to date when most of my nights are spent tracking OEs. Will I ever find the one?

I am that which you fear most

7-7-07

Nano-bars? Interrogations? Is he kidding me? Yeah, I'm scared. Really terrified. Yawn.

Mortals. They think their little demon hunter club can take care of the likes of me? A REAL demon, a true daemon sapiens, not one of those stupid, primitive excuses of a daemon incultus like the one that has been chasing Jack Harris around for sport. No lips? No skin? Dangerous? Please. Don't insult me.

But I forget my manners. Allow me to introduce myself. In the mortal realm, my name is Galen McManus. I am a demon of... Well, I won't tell you what my Directive is. That would quite spoil the fun. And I do intend to have fun. Exquisite fun. You see, I've been watching them, those foolish demon hunters. From the enchanted wood at St. Yve, where the mortal and dark realms meet. Waiting. Biding my time until I can set the perfect trap. And snare myself one of the Earl's pretty daughters. I've been looking for a new plaything, and Lady Dawn Maybank will fill the bill nicely. Ah, yes. Very nicely, indeed. Did you know she has a flaw? A dangerous one. A deep inner flaw that will cause her to fall under my alluring demonic spell.

She'll not resist my temptations. For I have something she wants...badly. And before I'm through with her, she'll want me just as badly. My flesh. My touch. My forked tongue...

Soon.

But first I must watch and wait. And plan for her total possession.

Just another day at the office

7.03.2007


Hey! Rare it is I get the opportunity to communicate with others not of the er...otherworldly persuasion. Keep me locked in the dungeon, they do. Oh, they call it the lab, but I know better. Anything below ground and reeking of a medieval castle with limestone walls and hoards of strange torture devices screams dungeon, yes?

Of course, the interrogations room is awesome. Lucite screening glass reinforced with nano-bars and ultra-sonic recording modules. Hi-tech all the way. Our chief interrogations officer—er, we call her Interrogations—has quite the knack for prying information from the lips (well, sometimes they don't have any lips) of our captured subjects. Man, I hate when we get a War demon. Those things really test a bloke's nerves, even if said bloke is standing safely behind the safety glass.

I catalog and store them, you see. Demons of all sorts are crystallized and brought in for study and storage. Mersey Bane calls me the Demon Storage Dude. I like Mersey. That bird always gets the choice assignments. She actually gets to go outside into the real world. No dark, dingy dungeons for her. She's an excellent tracker and can read a leyline like a sentence in a book. She's smart, and...so pretty. We've known each other since we were kids. I came to the Cad—er, this place, when I was ten. They're my family now. Same for Mersey. We're both orphans. Only problem is, I think she considers me more a brother than a potential mate. Blimey.

Ah, I've got to run. Orcs to destroy and gold to capture.

Oh? Well, when I'm not busy cataloging captured demons, World of Warcraft fills the time. I'm a level seventy mage. I so rock. A bloke's gotta be prepared, train, you know. For when they let me out into the real world. It's scary out there.

Maybe the dungeon is the place for me.

New Hunter recruited

We always know before they come to us here at P-Cell. They've experienced strange events in their lives. Witnessed something they tried to write off as exhaustion or blurry vision. Felt things. Knew things would happen before they did. Battled—yes—demons and vampires and the like. There are other realms, you see. And we don't like it when their sorts come to the mortal realm with mischief and murder to mind. (Even those bloody faeries slip through a portal every now and then. Wankers.) That's why we've recruited Jack Harris.

Bit of a quiet bloke. Handsome too—er, but you didn't hear that from me. Trained for MI-5. He's got the physicality required for a job like this. There's not a weapon he can't handle, or at least, figure out. (We have some very specialized weapons here at P-Cell. Salt grenades are my favorite. Salt kills demons dead, don't you know.) Got a chip on his shoulder, he does.

Good.

But does Harris have the fortitude to stalk a nasty, brimestone-breathing OE* and bring it down? P-Cell isn't for the faint of heart, nor the weak. A man can't take a moment to think twice when facing down a demon. A demon will slash a talon through a man's chest, or spit burning poison into his eye if he pauses to think.

I hope Jack is not a thinker. He must react. But I'm a little worried about this woman he called me about. Said he needed to check her out, and did I have information on her. Mersey Bane. That name. Sounds bloody familiar.

Familiar. Hmm...




*OE = Otherworldly Entity

I'm in

I haven't stopped shaking for days. I've just lived through something I wouldn't want anyone else in this world to experience. I saw...

I witnessed...

Bloody hell, I can't put it into words. It was horrifying. It all happened so fast. My weapon proved useless against the thing. It...appeared from out of nowhere, slashing talons and roaring and...

She's gone.

I...watched her die. And there was nothing I could do. I couldn't stop it! I don't want to remember, but it's all that I see now. That monster. It killed her.

And they've just left my home. I've never seen those blokes before. Claimed they were with a covert section of MI-5. They say they know I've seen things. Indescribable horrors. They want me to join their team as a--I can hardly type this--a demon hunter.

Sodding demons?

Well. This has happened before. I've seen one of those monsters when I was a kid. Never want to see one again. Nor do I want an innocent civilian to see such a thing. So I guess that means I'm in.

Look out, demons, I've got a big gun loaded with salt grenades. This time it's you or me.