The Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow

[Armande]

The boy's tone was deliberately infuriating. Only steel will kept him from shuddering as the power danced around him. Oh yes. He will die. Very slowly, and in great pain. Once before he had been touched with the power. Only once. His most powerful memory, one even now, he advanced on slowly, as if circling to the center. The smell of the Roma campfires and the cool of the night; the distant laughter and the weeping fat man at the base of the tree; Lissandra's breathy voice, fearful and angry; the slash of a blade as she hacked at the man in fury; his hand on her shoulder; her spin. Finally, he sighed. He is struck with nothing....Oh yes. Once before. And his reaction had been visceral. Without thought.

Just remembering screwed his anger to a level he did not imagine possible. He was a collapsing star, unfathomable mass falling in on itself, compressing smaller and smaller, denser and denser, gravitational forces and pressure beyond anything imagined...harder, harder, until it reached the final moment, as coldly pressed as was possible to be- absolute stillness.

A hair's breadth more and it would come. The violence in him, the rage, an exploding supernova of fiery fury to scour this entire building to the ground.

The war. Not the battle. The war. The whisper stopped him. Barely. Foolish impulse. Childish. But the emotion still raged inside him. He tried to seek the Chong Rann, sought its soothing depths. It took longer than normal.

The emotion dissipated into that other universe, releasing him from its grip, the red that filmed his eyes fading away, control and normalcy returning. He was surprised to see the other two- the quiet two- standing, hand in hand, as if to leave. He turned his icy gaze to them curiously. Gods? Or perhaps something else. Wolkin? Sentients? He squelched the angry thought of Aria that tried to surface.

The boy's answer was flippant enough. Oh yes. He truly thought himself above humanity. The woman, though....she was still delusional. Clearly. And not simply in her ridiculous beliefs. Obviously, she still needed religion to explain her power. She still thought she could use it for good. She wanted to atone. And she would try. He had no doubt. But the seed was already there.

And growing. A small smile that did not touch his eyes formed. "Strange. I do not seem to recall the United States having queens. Not even New Orleans. Where were you titled? By whom?"

Poor Valeriya didn't see it. She didn't know the demon the seed would form. Inwardly, he cringed as she took her hand, voice regal and sisterly at the same time. She would have to learn. Somehow. But it would not be today.

Though she did give him pause. Hidden in the depths of her flowery words was a thorn whose prick made him smile. A threat. Pity gave way to pride. She would learn. But she was Khylsty first. Idly, he wondered what he would do should Rowan attempt to atone and awake- in the Khylsty way, naturally. He doubted it would come to that. Valeriya's thousand scars criss-crossing her back came from absolute devotion. The seed of pride certainly would not have her bend the knee to him.

Still, the thought was strangely interesting. He'd never accept her, of course. Purity had to be maintained. But it was curious.

More interesting, though, was how Valeriya would react to her decision. The corners of his lips quirked up in anticipation.

[Mikhail]

Mik almost laughed out loud. Oldilocks was gettin all kindsa mad now, he could tell. Had that hot and bothered look about him- not the good one either.

Looked like he was gonna pop a blood vessel or something. That would be hilarious. And Rowan, poor poor Rowan....damn she opened her mouth and a flood of words poured. She lived her life on her sleeve, that was for sure. Wait. Was that the expression? Who cared. Well....maybe he did.

All of a sudden he wanted a look at those eyes again. He hadn't seen the crazy before. But sometimes it hid. What had that one guy called it? Crazy Pussy? Addictive....but oh the price you'd pay.

He could almost hear the Lady's laughter at his predicament. Hah hah ha. It was a funny joke, he supposed. Welllll, at least tonight was anything but boring.

Anyway, so....let's see. Tobias and Asha stood and pretty much were ready to book it. Figured. They'd had one foot out the door the moment they sat down.

Princess Eye or whatever swept to Rowan all sister like. Yup. That sounded about right. He defenitely saw the crazy in those eyes.

Not that he'd mind the price. Not for a while anyway. Oldilocks should be wrung out at all her drama.

But no. Clearly he was the queen in the bunch, despite his question.

And sadly, he didn't take the bait. More's the pity. Mik let the flames stop their little dance, but he did hang on to the power.

Maybe something would happen afterall.

[Xander]

Xander didn't like the look the man gave him. He felt the auras around him like they were churning his stomach. Too many. This hadn't been a good idea from the start. His hand clung to the smaller one in his. Asha snapped back at Rowan and Xander ignored her comment for the first time as he stumbled towards the door. Outside, was his only thought he had to get away from them. From all of it. The balcony offered the quickest route to fresh air, but that wasn't what he needed. Space, away. And the thought of leaving Asha here alone turned his stomach. She was here to meet someone...

He ignored everyone as he headed out the double doors that had been magically flung open. He didn't care if he was being rude. She was rude to begin with and she could flaunt her powers in front of the snake and see the ramifaications herself. Fucking idiot.

Each step Xander took he felt better, but there were still too many people. He whispered over the churning of his stomach, "I don't want to leave you here to wait alone for your meeting." He couldn't do it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her or not. They were down the stairs in the main area before Xander spoke again in a hushed whisper, "He was a snake."

[Rowan Finnegan]

Rowan was completely and utterly taken with this Valeriya. Her choice of wording was curious, although ultimately it fell in line with Rowan’s own worldviews. The Holy Spirit, Yahweh, the All… No matter what name you called it, there was most definitely a higher power out there. In today’s day and age, Religion and Spirituality almost seemed to be guttering out like a feeble flame… At least where the common man was involved. Most people had devoted all of their faith in technology and the all mighty dollar. True, with the revelation of Channeling being made public, there were many that had come to find Faith in something or other, but it was refreshing to hear another speak with such conviction that Rowan felt over her own path.

                Valeriya’s manner and her piercing gaze made Rowan want to agree to whatever atonement she might have been preaching, but Rowan was no fool. She knew better than to dive into anything blindly. Well, anything that might require serious commitment. She would know exactly what this charming woman was speaking of because Rowan really did want to atone for her past in any way that might make a difference. Certainly not through prayer. The Gods and the Ancestors heard her voice quite well, thank you very much.

                “Oh, my dear Valeriya, of course, I wish to make amends for the wrongs I have committed, but how? Is serving the public and the greater good, not enough? And whom is this Great One if not the Holy Spirit which has so clearly sent you and yours into my life. I wish to know more,” Rowan grabbed at her drink and took a pull of the liquid inside. Asha stood up and chased after Tobias, proclaiming Rowan a rude woman.

                Eyes bulging, Rowan felt taken aback. She had been the most gracious of hostesses tonight, especially considering she didn’t know either of them. She had offered them top-level hospitality, bared her soul to them, listened to them… All the while Tobias had behaved a perfect ass, sulking in his chair over everything. She wasn’t even sure why the man had waited so long to leave if he was having such a horrible time. Rowan pursed her lips and spoke calmly to the other woman.

                “Asha, I do not wish to turn my tongue on you, but Tobias has been staring daggers at me all night. I have been nothing but kind to the two of you tonight and he sat here the whole time feeling nothing but contempt for me, so I apologize if I lost my patience for the slightest hair of a moment. You are both welcome back here whenever you wish. Truly, I did not mean to be rude or to offend either of you. I apologize again, profusely.”

                And with that, the pair left the room. Rowan sighed and took a puff of her joint.

                Despite the ungrateful pair, Rowan was having a marvelous night.

                And God dammit, she was feeling marvelous as well.

                Valeriya’s gentleman caller was another matter. The man’s face was a storm of internalized emotions. Rowan almost pulled another card for him to set his mind at ease, but he had all but ignored her previous reading, so she left the cards on the table. He finally started to smile and posed another question for her. Lord, this man only seemed to have questions… And he seemed very smug about said question, which raked a little at Rowan’s nerves.

                “Right you are, friend. My homeland is a Democracy,” Rowan enunciated the word since he was so amused at the thought of a Voodoo Queen, “I am no sovereign. It is simply a title bestowed upon the recognized head of the Religion in any given locale. The role originated with Marie Catherine Laveau, a free Mulato woman born in the French Quarter of New Orleans on September 10th of the year 1801. She is credited with shaping the New Orleans system of Vodoun that we know and enjoy today, blending into it the American folk-magic known as Hoodoo, and so many other things. Many stories and myths surround the woman. She is still feared and glorified to this day. A powerful woman. You would have to be if you were going to hold the city of New Orleans in the palm of your hand as a woman of color back in that day… She earned everything in her life. I would not be who I am today if she did not rise to power and usher in a new era of Spirituality in the United States. Maman Marie Laveau is an ancestor that deserves every modicum of respect one can muster.”

                Rowan took another sip of her drink, with a cool look for the man. She cocked an eyebrow and went on.

                “Being the only High Priestess of the religion in Russia… and as far as I know, the only practicing member in the country… The responsibility of Voodoo Queen was laid at my feet, when I decided to settle here, by the current Voodoo Queen of New Orleans herself. Were I to return back to my home country, I would be nothing more than a High Priestess, but here? I am the authority so far as the Loa are concerned. Why? Care to take lessons from me? Voodoo is great fun for an outsider. There’s drinking, dancing- a lot of dancing- and ecstasy… But then again, judging by Valeriya’s words, I assume it is another path that you two follow… Might I be enlightened?”

                Mik had been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time. Rowan turned ever so slightly to regard her man of the evening. He had seemed to be deep in thought himself. Why didn’t people voice their minds more?

                Rowan gently nudged Mik with a devious smirk on her face.

                “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

[Ashavari]

The relief was palpable with every step away from the room and the people within it, and a huge puff of breath left her lungs as the distance diminished her gift. Her sense of Tobias filtered out the fresh clamour of the cafe’s patrons; she could feel the lingering of his discomfort even with escape in their grasp. The reason she’d been in the cafe was the furthest thing from her mind the last few minutes. 

“I felt your reaction, and I trust your instincts. He was an angry one too.” Her conscience shifted uneasily for those left in the room above, but it was not like they were without warning. Rowan’s parting words swirled. Utterly blind. So righteous! El wouldn’t have thought twice about abandoning them. Asha wasn’t so easily soothed, but she did know how to survive. She squeezed Tobias’s hand, grateful for the concern of a stranger.

“It was probably a long shot actually. The meeting, I mean. And certainly not a conversation I’d want to have with, uh--” She glanced back the way they’d come. Sea monsters. And a trail that led back a channeler. She had no intention of betraying Elias, even inadvertently. The potential lead just wasn’t worth it.

“So nope. Either they already stood me up, or I’ll be doing the standing up. Come on.”

[Xander]

Continued in No Destination

[Valeriya]

Armande was strangely quiet, a habit that her great love did not often nurture. Valeriya found the silence unsettling, and she would give her left toe for insight into the cyclone that must be his thoughts. But Rowan demanded her attention, and Valeriya lit like a candle when their hands clasped so sisterly. She was one of these channelers that Armande described, but even Father Rasputin commanded magicks. How evil could these dark arts be? Winds and charms were not frightening despite the unholiness that Apollyon wielded. Rowan was not so evil, was she?

Then her opportunity came. Vale licked her lips and the darkness in her eyes stirred like dusts long settled were disturbed by ghostly specters. “You can awaken, sister of the Eye.” In that moment her own fuzzed into temporal distance. The future was fluid, but amid the rivers of time she saw Rowan glistening in the waters washed red by her atonement. It could come to be, if Rowan agreed.

She released the voodoo queen’s hands hesitantly, but only so to gesture at the stoic Armande nearby. Her gaze lingered on his smooth cheeks a moment, recalling the first time she beheld his bubbled, oozing flesh in the Below. Her voice thinned to ice, cold and reverent. “The Great One is before you now,” ownership of love’s possessiveness swirled in her gaze. Pride, perhaps. "The Great One of old was Grigori Rasputin, who saved us by preparing a sacred dwelling before the great battles of the Empire’s revolution. When our Glorious Father perished, his children became the Eye, and we awaited his return."

One such daughter, Valeriya, was the Eye now, powers passed down from her great father, now perfected in her. "I present to you the Great One of our time.  Cast off your sins and awaken from the darkness that grips your soul. You must open yourself to stir the slumbering soul caged in the darkness of your body. I’ve done it,” a haunted smile tugged her lips, “We all have.”

The others were gone by then, and even Armande and Mikeal faded. It was only Rowan and Valeriya who remained. The two eyes that together might reveal the entire world. She leaned close and whispered, “I’ll help you.” Hands squeezing tight.

[Armande]

The storm had passed, the eye of the hurricane. Oh, the danger was still there. Rowen and the boy played with powers not theirs to enjoy. The boy, he suspected, knew full well his abilities. And did not seem to care. Life meant little to one such as him. He had no doubt many dead bodies could be piled at his feet, of no more concern than a few stepped on ants.

The woman, on the other hand, had not fully succumbed. It would happen, he knew. It had to. Armande could not conceive of a universe where that much power had no sway on a human soul.

He knew. And realized how much of a blessing it was to be denied that temptation.

And in that moment, a pathway in his mind opened up. A vision, so startlingly real, his breath caught.

He had known. He had always known. Even when the cost was more pain than any man should experience, he'd never doudbted.

And yet never before had the reasons been so clear. For his entire life, it had seemed it was found in histories, carefully preserved and hidden inside ancient myth and legend, oral tales passed on over millenia. And yet he had never questioned why he knew. Why he believed enough.

But the vision...the truth was so blindingly clear as to be obvious, breathtaking once perceived. A vision. Or perhaps a logical extrapolation. Despite his lipservice to Valeriya that he was the Great One, he privately believed no such thing, nor claimed to have knowledge from anything beyond.

She was his Eye and he was content with that.

Whatever it was, though, it was Truth of the Platonic kind. Beyond conjecture.

He saw himself somehow wielding the power of the gods. In his mind, he saw energies flow from and through him, saw accolyte and follower at his feet, saw the working of his will upon the world reflected in warp and weft of such power. It was far beyond what he commanded as Regus of the Atharim. The Latin sprang to mind, unbidden. Adorare. Adoration. Worship.

And he, just from that vision alone, felt the stirring in his heart, an ache, a craving unlike any he could imagine. The hunger. The image of Brandon on the balcony, crowds of thousands before him crying in awe, weeping at the God made flesh before them.

The thirst was as palpable as any he had ever felt in the desert. Nor, in his moment of blinding honesty, did he deny the sharp twinge of jealousy that he finally recognized, that had always been there. For what Brandon possessed.

Anyone can fall. Me included. Intellectually, he had known that. He was human. All humans can be corrupted by power. That of the gods is the greatest. Ergo, no one is immune. Modus Ponens at its simplest.

But there was a difference from inferring truth and experiencing it. And here and now, he lived it.

Valeriya was in danger. Not at the moment. She had everything well in hand. The silent two had left. The boy was quietly observing. And she was drawing Rowen in.

But the danger remained.

His revelation lit a new fire in his soul. He would let Valeriya play her game with the girl. The danger was not immediate. But his mind churned as he thought out into the future. Soon.

In the meantime, though, at her introduction, he merely looked at the girl, blue fire scouring its way into her soul. Weighing and measuring. When he did speak, it was only a brief sentence. "I am Armande of the Khlysty." Truth and deception all in one.

Valeriya would have her moment. But she could not avoid the truth forever.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Valeriya’s words echoed throughout the room, at least from what Rowan could hear. A complex, albeit short, mythology sprung from her lips in a fervent tone. Rowan was incredibly intimate with that tone. This was a woman that held deep beliefs, and if she spoke so, that had meant she had ample evidence if only through her own life-path, that proved those convictions.

                Yes.

                A kindred soul.

               Finally.

                Rowan had found a deep connection with this other woman, and they had only known each other for a total of twenty minutes. If that. Really, they should be taking this conversation down to the Ladies Parlor, if only to make the moment all the more intimate, but then there was the talk of this Great One. Just earlier, Rowan had been asking her previous guests if Gods of Legend had ever existed... And here Valeriya brought one to her. He wasn't any God that Rowan had heard of, true, and he was a man, but she would listen. Sacred Mysteries were not only a lifestyle for her, they were also a hobby. The revelation of Magick to the greater public had begun to lift the Viel on many esoteric secrets, why shouldn't this be another to add to that vast library? There were many paths to The One, the Creator, the God and Goddess. Rowan would know them all, if she could.

                Rowan could not help but be swept up in the tide. Valeriya’s eyes were piercing beacons in the night, her words a siren song cooing at Rowan’s core. A true daughter of Russia seducing the innocent Yankee girl to seek the hidden knowledge of this domain. Not a Channeler, no, but there was that connection. Sister of the Eye, she called it? Did Valeriya feel the same, subtle bond? There was no mistaking it now. There was a familiarity there… In Valeriya’s eyes…
 



               The world shook.

                Vale and Rasputin-reincarnated slowly melted into shadow, the whole room melted into shadow. Two pinpricks of light stood where Valeriya’s eyes should have been. Rowan remained still as a statue, unable to even breath in that moment.

                The twin points shot up overhead and each erupted into flames, one black, and one white. Rays of light and darkness spilled from the twin flames in rays, burning and powerful. The energies swept over the blackness, and where they inevitably touched, blood formed, appearing out of nothingness.

                A vast, lush landscape quickly formed before Rowan. Valleys and hills, rivers and lakes, flowers and trees, flora and fauna, all of this laid before her, seemingly sculpted from countless gallons of blood.

                The world shook again.

                Blood splattered and swayed off of the landscape, dancing off into the horizon on an unseen wind, being swallowed by the twin flames. Everything was right, then. Deep greens, glittering blues, and so many other vibrant colors filled Rowan’s vision. The colors of life. It all felt so serene, so perfect.

                The twin flames sprung into motion, chasing each other in a perfect circle. Faster and faster the flames went, attempting with all their might to catch the other. The white and the black became a blur to her as they swirled about.

                A loud bang.

                The flames met each other within an explosion of sparks, the little lights pouring forth and dancing on the air, descending upon the fertile land. A red sun rose from the horizon, intensifying the glittering dust. Goosebumps rose across Rowan’s entire body.

                On the horizon, two figures came into view, making their way through the valleys and rivers.

                Two female silhouettes accompanied by an ox, a lamb, a raven, and a badger. One of the women seemed to be holding a cauldron or a pot, and the other held a crown reverently.

                The figures drew closer, and with every step they took, the world shook again.

                It shook and shook and shook until…




                “I am Armande of the Klysty,” Valeriya’s gentleman spoke.

                Rowan looked at the man, with wide eyes and mouth slightly askew. The slight hissing of a snake sounded from the back of her skull as she gazed into his eyes. Rowan didn’t notice it. Her mind was focused solely on what had just happened. A vision. Free of the cards and dreams and Loa. A full-blown vision.

                She shook herself and looked back to Valeriya, almost entirely ignorant of Mikhail. This woman had touched her… And that vision… She did not know what it had meant in the slightest, but surely that was an auspicious sign. It was the first time she had experienced anything like it. Surely… That meant this meeting was destined? She did not know what she thought of placing such faith or worship in a mortal man, which Valeriya clearly did, but there was something there… Clearly, that vision occurred to nudge her along. It was to give her the courage to step forward on an unknown path. Was it the future it was showing her? One in which she had taken Valeriya’s offer? If it was, it made little sense… But aside from the blood, it wasn’t a scary sight… And didn’t life come from blood? Perhaps it was symbolic of something else…

                Aiden was out there. He didn’t want to be found, not even by his twin sister… The thought came back to her and panged at her heart. Rowan shook her head, almost to herself, she sought him but he evaded nonetheless. Perhaps she was on the wrong path. Let Aiden do what he needed to. She would keep an ear out and an eye, if she could find him she would, but maybe that’s not where she needed to devote her energies…

                She looked with pleading eyes at Valeriya and, for the first time in a long time, spoke simply.

                “Help me, Valeriya.”

[Mikhail]

Goddamn zealots! Mik thought. Always ruinin everything. You know , they were all havin a great time, smokin some kush, flirting and getting emotional, laughing and joking- well Tobias had that stick up his ass...but everyone else had seemed to have fun. Rowen was hot to trot. And Asha had had that smile. Who knew? Little miss librarian prolly had a wild streak she kept hidden from folkses. Just waitin for more goofing and fun and laughter to relax her.

And then Oldilocks and the Witch Queen show and somehow, one by one, take down everyone's mood. Asha fleeing out the door sounded a gong. One down! Green Eyes was showing off the Old Man as if he was something. Dude problably fell asleep on the couch in a blanket eating soup. She'd look over, all of 6pm, wondering what she'd be doing for the rest of the night. Rich old man, with hands as cold as ice.....

And suddenly Rowen, whose smile was at least inviting and filled with laughter- when she wasn't puking words uncontrollably- was all quiet and somber.

Fucking boring was what it had become.

Believers! The Lady and he shared a good laugh. Just as bad as the Mordvinovs or Kolos or Yakuza. Just as bad as his pops in the Solntsevskaya Bratva. Idiots who believed there was fucking meaning or purpose in any of it. Honor. Belonging. When the Lady had let him peek behind the curtain and learn the truth, he had been set free.

Nothing meant fucking anything. A game, all of it. Just a game to see what might happen. Oh she played him as much as anyone. But at least he knew it was a game. And that gave him more power than most.

And that familiar urge began to bubble. It was always there, just below the surface. Last time it had come out was with that bitch Oriena. He hadn't been sure why he'd let her see his hunger to watch it all burn. To show everyone how stupid and meaningless it all was. To expose the lies everyone believed in.

God. Angels. Religion. The Ass-endancy. The CCD. Money. To watch it all burn away to expose the truth. There was only nothing. So you better might just chill out and have some fun.

And now Rowen was getting sucked in. And his chances of having some fun with her was going right out the door. Women who became emotional and who looked for redemption weren't exactly ready for a hookup.

He'd like voodoo Rowen better. Definitely.

So....what to do...

The girl- damn but she was fucking hot!- had said something about the old dude.

He remembered something about him and laughed. "Rasputin?...I think I remember that guy. Wasn't he nailing the Tsarina or something? At least hypnotized her to give it up. Was like shot or stabbed or whatever a buncha times?" he paused, looking into his swirling drink, small smile on his lips. Yeah, this should piss em off. "Had his dick chopped off at the end cuz it was the best looking part of him?"

His smile was all fun and innocent. But the urge to burn it all was sooooo there. Hooo boy, he was ready. Come on bitches.

People were such idiots.