theothermuses | Entries tagged with tm

If you could read my mind right now… Talk about a conversation when what you said was not what you were thinking.

(OOC: the background and situation are canon, but this is based on RP)

[locked from jacks_jack]

I'm expected to choose only one time that this happened? I'm afraid that would be practically impossible as the difference between what I say and what I think is almost a constant. And trust me, my dear, you would not like my honesty.

But for the matter of this exercise, I'll give the example of recent events. It was 1941 and there was a dance sending off our brave flyboys. Of course, in reality that wasn't the real purpose of the occasion. I needed the Rift opened, and the ones to do that for me were Torchwood. There was one young captain at the dance called Jack Harkness. You see, I am very meticulous in my planning and he being there was no accident. In order to return to their own time, Torchwood had to open the Rift. In order to keep the other Harkness distracted, because he would know the true danger, I had the real Jack.

They were getting along well enough, but it needed something more. Some guilt. And it worked so much better than I thought it would. You see, it was not the first time that Captain Harkness (the real one) had been to the Ritz, and I had seen his girlfriend, Nancy. So, when I saw that the two Jacks needed a little push in the right direction, in she came. I quite enjoyed being her, playing the gooseberry acting all hurt, but underneath encouraging Jack to do just that. He only had eyes for the fake. After excusing myself, and retreating to the cloakroom, I knew he would follow poor, forlorn Nancy. A gentleman, but he had no intention of staying with her, rather he wanted "Jack Harper." After helping me into her coat, I hugged him and told him, "I love you," when all the time, I was whispering to him:

YOU DON'T WANT HER TO STAY.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Location: Cardiff 1941
Current Music: A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square

The man who calls himself Captain Jack Harkness thinks that because he destroyed my son, I would come after him. Or perhaps the fact that he ruined my plans for Armageddon would compel me to seek revenge for stopping me. While I do admit that such action would be very enjoyable, in the end, revenge is such a petty motive in the grand scheme of things. He might have somehow survived Abaddon – and I still intend to find out how. He may have forestalled Endtimes, but I can assure him that is only temporary.

Only He can possibly stop me (and that is something I will do my best to resist when the time comes). Harknes may have abilities that surpass His creation, but he is still one of them.

But the question is, which is the most exquisite sensation? It is not revenge because I have no need for it. Relief? But who would the relief be for? Perhaps vindication, but even then, I do not need my role, or purpose vindicated. That said, on the day that Judgement does arrive, I will undoubtedly feel some of that as Harkness will become one of mine. Yes, I look forward to that.

Current Mood: pleased

[locked to those who know he's Iblis]

There was a war. He sent His Angels down to destroy my fellow Jinn because of their disobedience, but He spared me, a young Jinn and a fellow pupil. In His wonderful presence I was taken up to be with the Angels, and they instructed me. As I grew, I was honoured to be so blessed, and I even preached to the Angels.

Then the day came. The day that He created Man. He told us to pay homage to this creation formed of mud, for it was His greatest creation. How could it be? I was more worthy, born from the searing heat of the desert, forged from fire, and Man only came from the earth. I refused and was punished. I was cast out of Heaven and live my existence on His earth below.

Allah still had a use for me, and a bargain was struck. Until Judgement I would be able to tempt all of humanity, to prey upon their weak souls and minds. I relished the task, and went to work. The first was such a success. All it needed was a few whispered words, and the apple did look so round and juicy. How could His creations resist?

And so it goes on, but Judgement will arrive and I will take my share of souls that have fallen to me. And I wait for one, in particular, the most challenging I've found for a very long time.

Current Mood: nostalgic

I don't have secrets as such. Oh, certainly there are only a very few out there who know my true nature, and I'm more than happy for it to remain that way, but in that same breath, my nature is hardly unknown. All it would take is for someone to some studying in the correct places.

No, it's not my secrets that are important but those of everyone else's. Their secrets are my bread and butter. I hear them and use them. Secrets make people so easy to manipulate for secrets are often the key to a person's weakness. Just take a look at my dear friends over at Torchwood. So many secrets from each other. Ianto trying desperately to keep his girlfriend hidden in their own basement, and Gwen happily fucking her colleague and feeding her devoted boyfriend amnesia pills so she can confess her sins and still not have to deal with the problem. Most of all there is their leader, the so-called Captain Harkness. Where do I even begin with all his secrets?

My secrets aren't important, yours are.

Current Mood: working

"What most people don't seem to realize is that there is just as much money to be made out of the wreckage of a civilization as from the upbuilding of one… There's good money in empire building. But, there's more in empire wrecking."
Rhett Butler, Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell).

[locked from all who don't know Bilis' nature.]

"From out of the darkness, he is come!"

It may be fictional. A quote from a novel, but Rhett Butler certainly makes a very good point. Not that money is a driving motive of mine. No, my cause is so much greater than mere cash, but people, whether fictional or real, have such limited imaginations.

To destroy an empire and bring it to its knees is glorious. The chaos and confusion it causes is like a fine wine. The pleas from those left helpless, wishing for a return to glory music to my ears. They have all suffered it.

Egypt
Alexander
Rome
The Ottomans
Britain
Soviet Union

Who will be next?

"Son of the great beast. Cast out before time, chained to rock, and imprisoned beneath the Rift."

But…to bring down His creation and bring Armageddon upon mankind at a moment that is not His choosing. I can dream of nothing more satisfying.

"All hail Abaddon, the Great Devourer! Come to feast on life. The whole world shall die beneath his shadow."

They ran screaming from my demon. I could hear them until their screams fell silent as his shadow cast over them. I could taste the fear, and then nothing. And I regret only one thing that he did not have long enough before Harkness interfered. Cardiff is only the beginning.

After that, everything changes.

(OOC: Quotes are from Torchwood Episode 1x13)

Current Mood: cheerful

"Mummy, I'm thirsty!" The little girl, who appeared to be about five, tugged at her mum's sleeve as she rushed her daughter through the busy shopping centre and past MacDonald's.

"Not now, Lucy. I've got to get that dress before the shops close." Not even looking down to see Lucy's pleading eyes, she grabbed her hand and nearly pulled her towards the clothes boutique, ignoring her plaintive cries.

Some people looked over with sympathy, either for Lucy or her mother, thinking that perhaps the child was throwing a tantrum at being denied a Happy Meal toy, and then just as quickly forgot them as they continued their own lives. Only one watched with sympathy for neither. He had been watching and listening for some time and knew them both quite well by now.

He knew that rather than Lucy being a whining little brat, she was quite a sweet natured girl. The mother, Sarah, didn't pay her enough attention.

Normally, this would not be something that would attract Iblis' attention, and he had come upon them quite randomly -- which is always the best way. If Sarah had been a busy, working mother trying to maintain that delicate balance between work and raising a family, or if she had been a single mother, trying to make ends meet on benefits with several other mouths to feed, then he wouldn't have wasted his time. But she wasn't. Sarah was married to a reasonably successful businessman, and had given up her own career to support his…and their family. Now with Lucy, she had quickly discovered that children severely cramped her social life. Which was why this cocktail dress was far more important that Lucy's comfort.

By listening closely, Iblis had heard her secret desires. Wishes that she had no child. Thoughts that bordered on the edge of what no mother should ever contemplate…thoughts of losing Lucy, and the idea that it would bring her husband closer to her without having to compete with Lucy for his limited attention. Dreams of the life of being young, free and single, lost.

"Mummy, can I get a drink after you get the dress?"

"When we get home. You know I have to get back and get ready for this party." She sighed in frustration. Why did her husband refuse to let her hire an au pair? And she would have to take her into the dressing room while she tried the dress on.

She didn't see the old man looking into the shop window. In fact, no one seemed to notice him at all. No one but Sarah heard the whisper. Leave her outside. She'll be fine.

After a brief look around, as if trying to locate the source of those words and finding none, Sarah told Lucy to stay right where she was, and she would be right out in a minute.

Let her get the drink she wants.

Sarah looked worried, but that idea wouldn't leave her. "Here's a couple of quid…" But she's only five…but she's quite sensible… "Go and get yourself a drink. I'll be right over. Okay."

Lucy blinked at her, but knew better than to argue. "Okay mummy."

Once Sarah had disappeared to try the dress, Lucy wandered out of the shop. Iblis took a step near her and she seemed to just vanish into the crowd.

That was the beautiful thing about temptation, is that it worked best on those who needed no reason at all not to fall into temptation…but who had no idea of its consequences. The ideal life Sarah often imagined without her husband's darling little girl would fracture and break.

One should always be careful of what they wish for.

Current Mood: working

(Or if you are not human - would you ever kill a being from your own species?).

[locked from those who don't know he's Iblis]

If I had to, as with anything, I wouldn't discount the possibility of killing another Jinn. However, such a deed would be difficult to achieve and has been for a very long time since He sent his angels to destroy us. Usually though, the Jinn were far too concerned with manipulating the deeds of others to really bother with killing each other. Not that it didn't happen. I was also different back then, which is why He spared me during the battle and took me to live with His angels. It is only since my 'fall' that I would consider the possibility, but now that is beyond my reach.

[/locked]

Would I kill a human? It is not something that I do often, at least not directly that is. I prefer to persuade others to do the killing, convincing them with my whispers that it is something that must be done. However, there are times when circumstances make it necessary for me to take matters into my own hands. The instance with Miss Cooper's boyfriend is one such example. As with the others, I needed her to turn against Harkness, to open the Rift. She was already filled with guilt over her infidelity to him (something that was none of my doing, I hasten to add) that if he was violently taken from her that guilt would become too much and send her over the edge. Even then, I tried to just show her through a vision, let her see Rhys lying dead on their floor in his own blood. It wasn't enough, she "saved" him and took him to the "safety" of their Hub. By doing that, she made my vision come true. A different place, but no less deadly. It was something I had to do myself, and I took pleasure in looking into his eyes as he stepped onto the knife.

I don't kill often, but when I do, I do it well.

Current Mood: cheerful

( To Captain Jack Harkness )
( To Gwen Cooper )
( To Toshiko Sato )
( To Owen Harper )
( To Ianto Jones )

[locked to those who know about Iblis]

Do not misunderstand me; this was not a mistake, but an irreconcilable difference of principle. My action, or lack of it, brought about the end of the relationship as it was then, and created a whole new one. It cast me into the role of the one who did wrong, a role that I do not mind one little bit.

It was when He asked us to bow down before His creation: Man. When it came to my turn, I refused. I refused. I am Jinn, created from fire, and I could not go down onto my knees for something made of mere earth, the dirt that is trodden on. So, I disobeyed Him and stood firm. For that, my fate was decided. I was cast out and left to wander the earth I had so scorned. Even in such 'disgrace', He had a role for me and an agreement was made that will last until Judgement Day. It is a role I have filled happily since then, starting with Eve.

Current Mood: accomplished

Time is meaningless.

In the back room of his shop, Bilis sat at the table. Before him lay pieces of one of his many timepieces, cogs and springs; some of them tiny and all of them delicate. The face sat just off to one side next to the case. The tools were just as fine and in the hands of such a master would do their job and soon have the antique clock working along with all the rest.

At least it is when only viewed with the nearsightedness that humans can only wrap their tiny minds around. For the most part they are born, they grown, they go to work and then consider themselves so very lucky if they live their allotted four score years. In the interim they rush around from one place to another, complaining of not having enough hours in the day because they are mindlessly clicking keys in a cubicle, sitting in their car stuck in traffic as they run their offspring to some class or another, or they wonder how to fit in a few minutes with their lover while keeping their spouse completely in the dark.

And then they hope, and most of them believe, that when they have lived such a fulfilling life, they will eventually be admitted to His realm. How wrong they can be.

Cogs fit into cogs. Springs hold each in place. A balance is added, a part to regulate the passage of time. A soft, gentle movement with each 'tick' and 'tock'.

Their view of Time is just so linear, and they find themselves running out of it so quickly.

So very few understand (and fewer still can do it without the aid of some sort of machine) that it is the most fluid and variable of dimensions.

I can step across entire eras with no more difficulty than stepping into another room. I can see the whole of history, even if I don't belong within it. However, all of it is there for the taking and manipulating.

The workings are placed back into the housing. The face fits snugly onto the front. Tick, tock and the hands begin to mark time. A minute passes and the larger hand clicks down as present becomes past, the future present.

Let it remain meaningless for it is best they remain in ignorance.

Current Mood: optimistic
Current Location: A Stitch in Time

And elderly man walks up to you in the street. He appears, oh, in his mid-seventies, and he is dressed in a manner that was, perhaps, fashionable decades ago, in a cravat. He asks, so very politely, if he can help you and introduces himself. You don't suspect him of anything, not yet at least as he shows you around the building, letting you in all those rooms you couldn't get into before. Then your search for you friends turns up nothing, like a proper English gentleman, he offers to put the kettle on. After all, a cup of tea makes everything better, doesn't it?

It's only once you talk to your other…friends that you realize that all is not what it seems.

Those who know me may wonder why I take this guise. The answer is quite simple. I prefer to appear frail, old. Perhaps my bones are weak. People like to help me then, or if not help me then at least are more wont to listen to me. For all they see is a fragile old man, well-spoken and well-dressed who is out of his time. How could such an old dear possibly want to do anyone any harm, and even if he wanted to, how would he?

Current Mood: accomplished

That night there were angels dancing at the Ritz.

1941. Even in those chaotic, dark days people found reasons to enjoy themselves at a party, and I, for one had a ball.

This one particular evening was a very special one. People came to the Ritz to show their appreciation for the brave men in uniform that would soon be leaving Cardiff to be reassigned with their squadron closer to the actin. It was a farewell party for those saying goodbye to their sweethearts and to wish them luck.

The two strangers showed up. One in a very unconventional uniform that was barely recognizable as RAF, and the other was a young Japanese lady. They certainly livened up an already swinging party.

Naturally, people were suspicious of Miss Sato because of her nationality, but her companion managed to put to rest their fears of her being an enemy spy. As for him, perhaps I should call him Captain Harper, after all I'm sure it's as much his real name as the other he uses. Up to this point, I had been curious as to how he would introduce himself to one Captain Jack Harkness. What does one say to the man whose name and identity you've stolen? But I need not have worried, and I even recorded the meeting on my camera for posterity ~~and to leave clues for Torchwood to find them…and me~~.

The two captains got along better than even I imagined they would. I knew the fraud would be curious and Captain Harkness would be drawn to a fellow American in the Eagle Squadron, but I underestimated their chemistry and sexual attraction. Not that I minded.

I was more focused on Miss Sato. Captain Harkness was nothing more than to keep the phony distracted. The important thing was to get her to write down that formula so the others could open the Rift. The timing of the air raid was perfect, giving her the chance to slip away, write it down, and hide it without being discovered -- and I must say, using her own blood was an inspiration of her own making.

Then the dancing continued.

The pair of them are quite a surprising couple. Miss Sato as I just mentioned, and then 'Captain Harper's' natural charisma. But it was the real Jack Harkness who took us all by surprise by asking his…identity thief to dance. I would have put money on it being the other way.

You might not think this, but I can be quite the romantic, and that night watching them both dance in each other's arms was a beautiful sight, moving around the dancef loor cheek-to-cheek. Although everyone else aside from Miss Sato and myself were almost reeling with shock. It was a pleasure to see 1940's sensibilities so fundamentally shaken.

So with a kiss our two strangers left through the Rift to deal with the chaos now unleashed by the rest of their team, and dear Captain Harkness left saluting, about to die the very next day.

Oh, a very splendid party indeed, and I say let the dancing always continue!

Current Mood: pleased
Current Location: The Ritz, Cardiff
Current Music: Vera Lynn -- A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square

Oh, isn't this fitting? This prompt follows on quite neatly from last weeks.

Now, where did I leave off? Oh yes, I had said about the Captain and Miss Sato returning from 1941 through the Rift.

So, where does the disappointment come in? It comes in the most severe form possible, the abrupt end of the plans one has set in motion for millennia. It didn't take much of my skills to encourage those four members of Torchwood that they needed to fully open the Rift to bring back their loved ones and set to rights the mistake they made by opening it in the first place.

They did it. Abaddon the Devourer was released from his imprisonment to feast on all those in his shadow. After so long a victory. But that victory turned quickly sour. I can't say for certain what happened, but somehow, Jack Harkness sacrificed himself until his energy overwhelmed him.

Then it was no more.

But it was not the end. Will not be the end.

Current Mood: disappointed

Of course I do.

Anything can slip through the Rift, even ghosts. Ghosts are just an echo of the past, or future that can, on occasion take more solid form and not be merely a recording of they once (or will) did. In some extraordinary circumstances and in the right hands, these ghosts can even be manipulated.

For example, there might be some anonymous reports of big band music coming from a disused dance hall. Those reports might attract the attention of certain interested parties. Upon their investigation, they might find a time more than sixty years previously being played out before them, and when they discover that one ghost is that of Captain Jack Harkness, the real one mind you not the charlatan who calls himself such. A nice little distraction while Miss Sato worked on the formula so her colleagues could open the Rift for them to return, and set in motion his return.

===
Bilis Manger
Torchwood
Word Count: 156