Post by Nathan Saniti on Aug 5, 2015 20:54:24 GMT -5
Nero Shall Fiddle Again - Chapter Five
Fate stepped into the secluded shack in the woods that both Rasputin and Naomi had ensconced themselves in, after a proper invitation by Naomi. Rasputin returned to the foyer, wrapping a lacey apron around his otherwise bare chest, acting as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Without peering up from the knot he was fashioning, he began playing the part of the gracious host.
"Would you like some rye toast and sausage, Fate?" Grigori queried. Their guest smiled at the sentiment, knowing that food was more of a bonding ritual to mortals and half-mortals alike, even though he himself had no need for sustenance. Fate only shook his head politely. "Perhaps some porridge? It was always a favorite of mine when I lived in Russia." Again, Fate declined. Rasputin acknowledged his guest's choice, feigning disappointment. "What would you like, my dear?"
"Porridge sounds amazing, love," she answered before escorting Fate to their breakfast nook. It was a picturesque, cozy room; the sun shone down in rays from the western corner. An ornate white wrought iron table flanked by a pair of equally stunning, yet simple matching chairs stood sentinel in front of a full length double paned window overlooking the wood lined creek behind their abode. She drew up a white and turquoise striped Adirondack rocker, offering it to Fate with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry. It's all we have right now."
Fate nodded, understanding without complaint. Nevertheless, he was still caught off guard, sinking far closer to the earth than his mind was apparently prepared for. Naomi winced as she saw the glint on shock enter and then retreat from his eyes. Reflexively gasping and holding it in as he sank, he cautiously gazed at Naomi, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. After seeing that her visitor was unharmed, she joined in with a hearty guffaw of her own, accentuated by the occasional adorable little snort.
In due time, Grigori resurfaced, balancing three helpings of porridge on his arms and a small plate of buttered rye toast. He furrowed his brows as he delicately placed the food in front of the other diners. "What's so funny, you two?"
Naomi and Fate chortled a bit more, deciding to ignore the question. "You said you came here regarding Nathan?"
Laughter faded into sobriety as Fate cleared his throat. "I'll just get right down to it, then." He stood, unwittingly taking a bite of a piece of toast. "I have had to do something I had hoped I would never had to do."
Rasputin took a nibble of his porridge as Naomi crunched through her own slice, both listening intently. After swallowing her bite, Naomi questioned, "What? What did you have to do? How is Nathan involved?"
Fate held up his hand to calm her rapid-fire inquiring. "I've had to strip Nathan of his powers."
Grigori sputtered, quickly aiming his face away from the table to prevent spackling his company with cereal. "What? But why?"
Fate's forlorn face flashed furious. "I'm afraid he was abusing his abilities. He kidnapped Kelli Starr against her will, cast a spell over the town of Hangtown, costing lives, he formed a guild of berserkers, and even impersonated one of his enemies, all in the name of love." He grew more intense with each syllable. "He has manipulated her emotions, gone against the free will of an entire town, and people died! Innocent children perished for his love and vengeance!" Fate pounded the table for emphasis, his blood boiling.
"That's..." he stammered, deep regret and disappointment all over his face. He fell back into his chair, exhausted from his rage. "That's not how we do things." He covered his head in his hands. "That's not who Nathan is." Fate paused for a few moments, allowing what he said to sink in. Speaking it aloud, even he couldn't believe it.
"I had hoped to allow him to experience true love. I wanted Kelli Starr to show Nathan something he has deserved for centuries. I saw in their eyes the connection that you two share. I didn't know the lengths he'd go to. I knew if they could become one, we could possibly even recruit the colorful lass to possibly join our ranks in time."
Naomi and Grigori sat in stunned silence. They both briefly wondered if their own relationship had been preordained or designed. Then they remembered who it was they were talking to; Fate in the flesh. Swallowing back that tidbit with a hefty spoonful of meal, Grigori stood, taking bowls and plates alike. "You saw no other alternative?" He turned for the kitchen, a mindful ear cocked to their breakfast nook, shuffling quickly to expedite his return to the conversation. The question remained unanswered until his reappearance. As he sat, the morning sunlight hit Grigori's face at just the right angle. Fate caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a silken membrane over the Russian madman's face, one so dainty and light that it seemed the wearer was blissfully unaware of its existence.
Fate cocked his head this way and that as he spoke, never taking his gaze from Rasputin. "He was getting out of control..." he trailed off briefly, inhaling deeply before his curiosity got the better of him. "Grigori, why are you wearing that ridiculous mask?"
Naomi scoffed at Fate, unbelievingly. "What are you talking about? He's not wearing anything."
Fate snapped his glower to Naomi. The sunlight made her own face look as if she either had spent too much time in the elements or decided to wear a leathery mask of her own. He grasped her chin in his hand, twisting her head carefully in the sunbeams. "Naomi, have you two been visited by the Stranger?"
"A stranger?" Naomi quipped. "Not that I..."
"Not A Stranger," reiterated Fate. "THE Stranger. A man with masks? Likes to announce himself by whistling?"
The couple recollected that chance meeting. "But... We pulled the masks off," argued Grigori, almost near tears.
"You pulled off the physical masks, but the spell remained." Fate continued, "In all my years of knowing you, Grigori, I've never seen you come to tears so easily. And you Naomi, you've been rough and callous of late, especially towards the subject of your brother. Those are signs that you are under a spell."
An epiphany struck Fate as he contemplated his hosts. "Was Nathan with you when you met the Stranger?" They confirmed silently that Nathan had indeed been present. "Well, at least his change in character is starting to make some sense. The question is why The Stranger, an agent of Chaos, put you all under a spell."
*******
The gathered members of the (un)Stable convened in the shack Nathan created as a meeting hall in the PCW world to discuss strategy. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, particularly between Alexa and Nathan himself. The usual joking, occasional snide comments, and even the rare laughter had all been replaced with short and to-the-point phrases, keeping their meeting as brief as possible. Joka, still AWOL, remained silent, never communicating with his fellow stable-mates anything more than a few texts to let them know he still existed. Crazy Boy was focused, but Nathan used caution when dealing with him too since he and Alexa were slated to be in the match with several other teams to determine who would be the number one contenders for the newly resurfaced tag team belts.
Then there was the match against the Unholy Alliance that paired Nathan once again with his love interest Kelli Starr. Nathan was elated that he and Kelli once again demonstrated their chemistry as a duo to earn the shot. The thing that weighed most heavily on his shoulders were the looks of mistrust he occasionally caught in Kelli's eyes whenever she looked at him. It shattered his heart every time she gazed upon him.
Their ring chemistry was indeed flawless and unhindered, but he just couldn't help feeling a disconnect with his beloved Miss Starr. Nevertheless he knew he had to steel his resolve, obtain the Tag Team Championships, sending the Unholy Alliance back into obscurity where they belonged, and hope that the other issues can either resolve themselves or patiently await their turn to be faced. However, there was one issue that needed addressing right now:
"Alexa?" Nathan softly placed a hand on her shoulder as she began to exit. Even though there was no force behind it this time, Alexa violently shrugged his grasp, sneering at him. Nathan stepped back to show he meant no harm. "My dear, I simply must apologize for my abhorrent behavior when we last met."
Alexa pointed a stern finger directly in Nathan's face. "Don't you try and sweet talk me, Magic Man! Nobody lays a hand on me and gets away with it. You're lucky I don't stuff that hat of yours, hatpins and all, right down your throat!"
Nathan bowed his head in shame, but stood his ground. Finally, he looked her in the eyes. "I really do sincerely apologize, Miss Black. I must admit, when it comes to the subject of Miss Starr I tend to get carried away."
"I don't understand why you are so infatuated with her," Alexa growled through gritted teeth. "She's annoying, she plays your heart like a fiddle, and she's part of the Black Hand. Why do you even bother with her?"
"Love is blind, I suppose."
"You're thinking with the wrong head, Nathan. It's affecting your judgment. FUCK! I need a drink." Alexa stormed past Nathan, checking his shoulder ever so slightly, but with enough force to make a point. Just before she crossed the threshold, she turned on him again. "One of these days, it's going to come down to us or her, magician. You'd better choose your side wisely."
Crazy Boy simply clapped Nathan's shoulder as he followed Alexa. His eyes caught a glint of that steel mask Nathan may or may not have on his face in the moonlight. Tyrone could never really tell if it was a figment of his imagination or not. A busy schedule and the desire to avoid another confrontation within his stable turned his eyes away before he could rouse Nathan's suspicion. "We'll work through it, buddy. We're a family. That's what families do. She'll cool down on her own. Give her time."
"Time has never been my friend, Mr. Smith," muttered Nathan under his breath as Crazy Boy bid his adieus. "Even someone with my gifts..."
A falling leaf caught Nathan's attention, followed by the sound of wood snapping. Nathan peered back into his created structure, dumbstruck, watching as the knotted limbs that fashioned the walls and roof of the building came suddenly undone as if the spell they had been placed under had evaporated. Nathan witnessed the living structure unweave itself, a shell-shocked look on his face. His panicked look grew as he gestured to right the spell to no avail. He flung his hands and arms to and fro, almost comically, hoping what he suspected wasn't true. Alas, his fears had indeed become reality; no matter how he tried, it would appear that his magic had indeed decided to take a hiatus.
