The Plague Logs

[Marburg]

"The Festival of Blights" (Part X)


::2 minutes ago::


A man lay slumped over a table in one of the back bars of Hell.

A reletively cool mist of water blows from a small nozzle affixed behind an ossilating fan attatched to the tables edge.

The Man feigns a snoring sleep as his bottle rests on it's side, dripping a slowly flowing trail of lager onto the floor.

He is, in fact, On Duty.

He is a Gatekeeper...a man who guards one of the dozens of secret entrances that lead into the Warrens of Islay.

The entrance opens to a path that eventually leads to a large, natural cavern that houses what can best be described as an "ampitheatre of blights."

However, that path is, for the moment, rendered inaccessable.



"We hear this is considered a time of wish fulfillment."



Hearing the proper pass-phrase, the "lush" sluggeshly lifts his head to meet the eyes of two of his superiors.

As if again flipping a switch, he offers a very sober, almost impeceptable wink.

Hannah & Declan flip their own switches, & sloppily plop down to join the man at his table.

"Why are you denying us entrance?" slurrs Hannah.

"Beggin' your pardon Sirs, but, for the moment, NOBODY gets in." the gatekeeper slurrs back.

"Why?" Declan asks him.

"Because," the keeper replies, "for the moment, the road is doubling as a racetrack."

The Universe reveals a subtle connection to the on-duty Gaian as the falsely drunken couple speak in unison:

"Cool!"

"I was just about to cross the room to create a distraction as a matter of fact." the Gatekeeper continued.

"Oooooh! I wanna do it!" Hannah says with another Misfit's smile.

"Sir, you are welcome to it."


Declan just rolls his eyes, & turns to one of the dozens of monitors bolted to the celing across the barroom that bear witness to Checkerboard, Marburg, Jacknife, & one racer that he has never met before, as they quickly & violently crash their way past each other in the open, down the covert & impromtu track, amid the station's daily bustle.

...& now, very close by.


Hannah falsely stumbles to the opposite side of the room, and takes a seat next to a lone Corsair tourist, enjoying a drink at the bar situated within an opposite sight-line to the Warrens door.

She flashes the tourist a sloppy & sexy smile, & pulls close to him as he smiles expectantly back at the beautifully attractive young woman.

"For whatever it's worth... I'm truly sorry."

The Corsair's hopeful smile never waivered as he proceded to offer the seemingly sugestable woman another strong drink.

Her smile morphs into a look of sympathy as Hannah runs her fingers into his hair and closes a tuft of it within her fist.

Then, like the flash of a blade, she pushes the tourist's face down onto the bar...his teeth now biting painfully on the edge...

A split-instant later, with her free fist, then punches the back of his head...resulting in a liberal spray of blood & molars.

"Don't-you-EVER-TOUCH-ME-THERE!!---EVER!!!" Hannah screams while she turns every head in the room, and the Corsair collapses to the ground...

"I'LL F***ing KILL YOU, YOU GODD***ed As*****!!!..."

As the young Miss "Lassa" procedes to repeatedly kick the downed tourist, he does his freshly toothless best to plea for stoppage while his ribs begin to break... one by one.


...The four remaining racers come crashing completely unnoticed into, and through the pub, slamming back and forth off of each other...doing their best to jockey for position as they turn the corner, & disappear into the now-opened entrance to the secret festival, where the gatekeeper stands to the side, offering a sarcastically exaggerated servants bow as the runners pass.


"...AND I HOPE YOU SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE S***ING INTO A COLOSTEMY BAG YA F***ING PR***!!!"

With the man still on his back...who's only offence was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, continues to suffer as Hannah lets fly one more kick for good measure, and his lungs collapse as he begins to hemorrage...the taste of blood & whiskey gurgling from the back of his throat, out of his mouth, down his face, and onto the floor.

The pub's customers gather in a concerned circle around the ruined & crippled man , as the petite & former Plague Dog returns to the table she originated from, & ordered the gatekeeper to make sure that the broken Corsair is well taken care of, and treated like a King... for however many months it will take for the poor man to conveless.

Dengue & Hannah then procede through the camoflaged entrance, & down a path that leads from the door that now closes in front of us.

The tumblers of cause & effect click into place, & again render this specific path...at least for the moment...inaccessable.


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Next- Living The Life of Riley: Festival of Blights" (Part XI)

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