The Magnificent God

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[themagnificentgod]

The Conqueror- part 3

 The Edge of Things churned with a blasting inferno, the fierce heat tearing through the roasting winds that engulfed the University.

 In a gust of slamming energy, the great and terrible Wyrm had breached the Edge. With pale amber eyes, small and sunken deep within her heavy reptilian head, she darted her gaze about the strange Elsewhere University- her new kingdom.

 The Wyrm was no stranger to new and unfamiliar cultures, and as a lifetime exceeding twelve millennia tended to exhaust any semblance of originality, the world of humans in 1953 was barely worth a second glance.

 Indeed, she could remember the magnificent bygone days of kings and emperors; mere human believing themselves to be descendants of her kind. Sacrifices were made to her and she was worshipped as a harbinger of storm and desolation. They would pray to her as an avatar of destruction, emulating her fury in their marches of conquest. Her wrath marched alongside those who despoiled, looted, ravaged, and burned. It had been glorious.

 She had brought despair to the Mycenaeans, razing that ancient bastion of innovation and prosperity, till the once great civilisation had crumbled into ash. The men of Francia had wept and cowered in their castles as she had devastated village after village. Generations of Northmen had dedicated their lives to pursuing the glory that would come with her death, and when they failed, they settled for carving her likeness onto the bows of their ships.

 In old Éire, she had settled down for a while. The lush green forest that she had made into her home had quickly putrefied; the dazzling mosaic of life and beauty decaying into a foetid marshland, clogged with rotting vegetation and sourness. Years of war and vengeance had contaminated the land. Irish kings and warlords drew first blood in what would become blood-feuds spanning a hundred lifetimes, as her aura of fear and avarice infected their minds. They called her péist. They called her serpent. They called her Wyrm.

 It had been a while since the Wyrm had gazed upon the world of humans. If she thought back, she could recall the use of iron becoming very popular all of a sudden in the sparse human societies. Yes, some time after then, she had retreated deep Elsewhere.

  Looking about, it seemed like humans had made a few minor changes since that time.

 Shifting her thick armoured coils into a more comfortable position, the Wyrm’s head lowered and she narrowed her eyes at the Fae army that stood between her and the vast hoard that she coveted-absentmindedly crushing nearby walls and tables beneath her winding, twisting serpentine body.

 They had been a bothersome little people back in Éire as well.

 The hearth had always been a link between human-kind and the Elsewhere, and a connection that primarily belonged to her. Scavengers like the Fair Folk had been keen on using that link, whispering to any human willing to bargain with the flames. She had often had to flex her power to get them to stop, hissing through the hearth and watching, satisfied, as the Wee Folk crackled from the fire in fear.

 Unbeknownst to the Wyrm, things for the Gentry had changed drastically since old Éire. No longer was every hearth, lake, or forest a soft spot that they could breach through and their territory nowadays was extremely limited. Fairy Hoards in particular were few in number and the Fae would viciously defend it from anything that threatened what little they had left. Even from a wyrm.

 But even if she had known, the Wyrm wouldn’t have cared. She was an apex predator- the equivalent of a great white shark in the deep Elsewhere.

Her kind had no equal. The poor Fae wouldn’t stand a chance against her wrath, and they would fall and they would scream before her, as she took all that she pleased. She would sleep and drink deep from the well of power that lay beneath the human building and nothing could stop her.

 Lengthy black spines, like thorns as long as spears, bristled along the mottled dark scales that ran across the Wyrm’s back, while her long belly was striped with pale creamy scales. Her vast body, wreathed with smaller horns and ridges, was hard with thick, powerful muscle that flexed as she steadily progressed toward the Fairy stronghold; half-slithering, half-prowling. Each step she took broke the concrete path and the pounding of her limbs reverberated into the roar of the storm, the sharp clack of lengthy talons echoed like lightning strikes- each claw the length of a car, and each tipped with a cruel, piercing point.

 As the Wyrm steadily moved toward the legion of Fae, more of their number fled in screeching terror. Yawning thunderheads enveloped the sky and the rippling hum of the airborne inferno blew though the campus, and as the Wyrm slowly bore down upon the remaining Gentry, one of their number stepped forward toward the gargantuan beast.

 The faery was tall and strong, with crooked horns protruding from its scalp and glittering spider silk wrapped about its shoulders. Three dark eyes flickered with fear, and the faery spoke in an ancient, alien tongue, crying out to the Wyrm.

 “Wyrm, oh Wyrm,” shouted the horned fae, “of where, great Wyrm, hadst thou come?”

 The Wyrm paused, a mere 50 metres away from the Grand English Building. Her small, intelligent eyes narrowed in irritation and the golden tassel at the very end of her immense tail flicked and twitched, like a huge cat eager to pounce.

  Seeing the beast halt, the horned fae continued, raising its voice to be heard over the howl of the storm. “Say from whence thou came! Why hast thou come to our kingdom?”

 A deep sonorous rumble suddenly erupted from the Wrym’s maw. The Gentry flinched, as one, at the sound and the horned fae’s resolve shattered.

 It wanted desperately to run and hide itself from this terrible creature, to scuttle back into the relative safety of the Elsewhere, to flee from the scorching, fearful presence of the Wyrm. But it couldn’t move. It was paralyzed with all-consuming terror. All its power and magnificence meant nothing in the face of such predatory might, and the horned fae could do nothing but tremble.

 The Wyrm’s coils shifted once more. Her muscular forelimbs pounded against the ground and her spines rattled threateningly as she slithered closer to the petrified fae. Her massive head curled downward and a long purple tongue flickered out from between her reptilian lips, relishing the sickly-sweet taste of fear that hung heavy the air. Her hackles rose and her body went taught in preparation to strike.

 “Foolish folk, oh fool! Whom art thou, little fool, to question me?” The Wyrm hissed, her voice a rasping mimic of speech that snarled past her jagged teeth and pulled back lips. “Say who thou art!”

 And the horned fae told the Wyrm its true name.

 Growling low with pleasure, the Wyrm inched even closer the helpless fairy.

 Though the horned fae was only a stone’s throw away from the bulk of the Gentry army, none of them made a move to help. Instead, even more of their number fled, leaving only two dozen left to watch in horror as the Wyrm moved in to close the short distance between herself and the abandoned faery.

  “Such feeble little folk,” purred the Wyrm, “So small. Vain and vexing to mine desires. Thine hoard will be mine own. Mine to do with as I please!” She leaned down, even closer to the horned fae. So close she could almost touch the violet tears that streamed from the fae’s three eyes. “Just like you, little fool.”

  Her lips pulled back, revealing countless serrated teeth that dripped with bright-green saliva.

  “Turn to thine friends.”

  The horned fae turned around. An indescribable mask of anguish and terror looked out to the remains of the Fae army, and the horned fae wept, shuddering piteously.

  It could hear the Wyrm’s rumbling purr of sadistic delight. The enormous beast’s hot, stinging breath enveloped the horned fae’s senses.

  “Tell those fools that thou do not wish to die,” hissed the Wyrm, “Beg.”

  “I don’t want to die. Plea- “

  A resounding crunch of flesh and bone resonated through the howling storm, as the Wyrm slammed a huge clawed hand on top of the helpless faery. Convulsing, oozing limbs poked out from between her claws, spattering the concrete with starlight coloured blood.

  A moment passed as the Fae army simply gawked in shock; the Wyrm drinking in their fear, her eyes darting over those that stood before her.

  Abruptly, a gurgling shriek wailed out from beneath the massive limb and the others recoiled in horror. With a satisfied growl, the Wyrm clenched her talons to finish the job, her gaze still fixed upon the two dozen remaining Gentry.

  “Dar’st thou die?” the Wyrm roared in challenge, her tail trashing violently, shattering apart wood and stone in her fury.

  For a moment, only the roar of the blazing winds and the gibbering moans of students in their dorms could be heard in the campus. Then, in one mighty voice, the Fae army howled over the storm, and charged against the terrible Wyrm with a thunderous war cry on their lips and hate burning in their eyes.

[themagnificentgod]

Drink deep from the waters of our discontent. For no springtime cider could taste near half as sour, when sipped from the Utgard horn of life's reprieve.

Lukas Langan

[themagnificentgod]

The Conqueror- part 2

As it neared 3am, the seething, roasting temperature peaked- though no one had slept. Students lay awake, sweating and shaking, curled up into themselves with sodden bed covers held close.

To the West, at the University fountain, the water steamed and spat as Reality shimmered and cracked. A mirage-like texture hung in the air above the fountain, breaking and folding in upon itself and flickering maddeningly. Whispers, spoken in an archaic tongue designed to tear the minds of mortals, stabbed through the stained-glass fracture and the university undulated violently in response to the whispers.

It was a call to arms.

In an instant, as the campus shuddered and groaned in response to the Voice that tore into the material world, previously barren and empty spaces came alive at the sound of the Voice’s whispers. The campus bubbled with movement: shadows flexed and thrashed from their corners, thousands of eyes gleamed from every direction, deep howls and shrieking laughter echoed through the night, and the Fair Folk, every single one, appear to answer the call.

The Courts stood as legion, a defensive line surrounding the Grand English Building that they had made into their home, into their stronghold.

A lean, eight-foot tall Fae, with cloven feet and a skeletal face wreathed in antlers and flame, stood alert beside a feminine figure with a fox’s head and a flowing crimson gown. A hundred floating eyes orbited its twitching ears- a hundred eyes all staring in one direction.  

Anna Monday waited alone, its sea glass form twinkling like a disco ball, as unmoving as the armless mannequin that the Other resembled.

Amid a wall of ordinary flowers and vegetation, a huge emerald-green rose bush stretched toward the sky, its pink petals opened to reveal human faces, each with five eyes, as vines, dotted with thorns, spread outward like arms.

Beneath a flickering street light, an emaciated blond woman with thin horns and a long, tufted tail smiled, waving at a figure hooded by a cream tinted cloak- perched atop a white chest, it absentmindedly rubbed its mask with a hand adorned with golden rings and pointedly ignored the wave.

A pale fleshy Other crept out of a drain pipe. It blinked rapidly at the various Lords and Ladies surrounding the stronghold. Suddenly, it seemed to come to a conclusion about something, and quickly made its way toward the Grand English Building, scuttling along upon very human-like hands, as its long tail dragged behind.

Dozens of androgynous Fair Folk milled about nervously, still cloaked in Glamour: their hair, eyes, and skin a menagerie of every conceivable colour. Some of them even look surprisingly human. The vast majority did not.

A huge shadow with multiple limbs and spider eyes sat patiently next to an empty dumpster, as a grey skinned creature covered in jewellery and pastel pink silk loomed beside it, staring impassively and drooling from long crooked fangs. The grey skinned creature offered a hand-rolled cigarette to the shadow, which it accepted and the pair smoked in silence beside the dumpster.

Standing by a tree a little way off from the fountain, a pale-purple being softly glowed and twisted her tendrils anxiously around the six arms that were split off from her elbows. Two other beings emerged out of the tree to stand alongside to the first, speaking in hushed unintelligible tones; the Buck, with its golden eyes, said something to its companion, who hissed angrily, her skirts flared up around her and her head sickeningly swivelled to a 180-degree angle while the Buck laughed.

A vantablack nightmare prowled along the perimeter of the English Building. It was normally the size of a horse, but now the skeletal humanoid thing was as large as an elephant.

An unprecedented number of teeth lined the thing’s mouth, with small, gleaming white chunks of all different shapes and sizes crammed into its maw. It was a nameless nightmare. A tooth stealer paying for its loot with fairy gold, taken from the hoard beneath the Grand English Building.

Indeed, the Fairy Hoard was filled to the brim with jewels and precious metals, but far more precious treasures were also kept there: first kisses and lost daisy chains, billions of odd socks and traded voices kept in glass bottles, small mountains of pebbles and stones with no perceivable value, bleached bones of stolen first born children, the names of every human foolish or desperate enough to tell them, piles of hair tied in ribbon bound clumps, nine-thousand years’ worth of offerings brought from the Fair Folks homeland, and nine-thousand years’ worth of memories disguised as fat golden coins, hidden amongst real fairy gold. If given to or taken by humans, the fairy gold would become damp leaves or acorns; but sometimes the human would also remember fragments from a life that they had never lived.

Though the Hoard was an integral part of life for the Lords and Ladies of Elsewhere University and an important aspect of the Treaty, it was the keystone of the vantablack nightmare’s existence. Without gold to leave behind, how could it get more teeth? And without teeth, what was its purpose? It couldn’t afford to find out.

Soon, all the Fae were present. Lining the alleys and pathways, crouched on rooftops, they waited. The Seelie formed imprecise lines of defence, groups clustered together that made the bulk of the Gentry force, whilst the Unseelie stood alone or in smaller groups.

All of them could smell brimstone. The harsh odour wafted along the scorching breeze, involuntarily causing the army to shudder at the stench, as resonant thunder rumbled threateningly above them. Streaks of lightening stabbed viciously from the night sky and boiling winds tore through the campus, roaring past like a sandstorm.

Fear swept across the Fae legions, aching within them as the darkness of the night gurgled with storm and burning heat. The terror they experienced reeked almost as much as the terrible aroma of sulphur and chemicals that was bursting forth from the East.

Weaker Fae fled in their rising dread, gibbering and screaming pitifully as the others stood trembling, but resolute in their defence.

As the storm grew in ferocity, awful shrieks could be heard from inside the dorms lining the campus. Students screamed and cried from their rooms. Wretched terror shattered their fragile human senses as they flailed and relieved themselves in paralysing fear. Some begged for death or howled to the Heavens, blubbering for their mothers to save them. Most merely twitched and shuddered, holding themselves tightly as their minds were overwhelmed. They moaned and yowled in the night. The noises they made were barely identifiable as human.

Amidst the screaming and the thunderous pounding of the storm, a titanic beast emerged in the distance, breaching the Edge of Things within view of the Gentry stood sentinel around the Grand English Building.  

The ground trembled as it moved and more of the Fae army deserted their posts.

The Wyrm had come.

[themagnificentgod]

The Conqueror- part 1

The year is 1953.

They called it the hottest October in living memory; the ground pulsed with a suffocating heat and the plants wilted, crackling into blackened husks. All classes were cancelled until further notice.

Students and staff alike were forced to retreat indoors to escape the unbearable scorch that engulfed the Campus. The Unaware laughed nervously, trying to relax in their dorms, reading and playing games to while away the time.

“Might as well enjoy some free time while you have it, right?” They told themselves, as their eyes flited toward nearby exits and likely hiding spaces.

The Involved didn’t laugh or enjoy themselves. They stared out of their windows with eyes huge with fear, or else pretended to read as they held their books with shaking hands, dripping cold sweat. Something was very wrong with the Campus.

An animal impulse deep within all those at Elsewhere University screamed for them to run. The urge to scramble somewhere dark, cool, and safe pounded at the base their skulls; something small and primitive, an instinct left over from the days before mammals grew larger than house cats.

A scent, too sharp, filled the air with an acrid mustiness that made the students want to cry out with terror. Instinct and impulse shrieked and squirmed for them to flee.

One by one, each of the Involved realised what was so terribly wrong and their breath caught in their throats. Hearts pounded within tight chests and hands trembled as they understood. They stared out from their windows, looking out at the campus before them.

The Fair Folk were nowhere to be found. Gone.

No shadows coiled in wait, no feeling of eyes watching, no crows, no Others, nothing. There was nothing out there.    

The air boiled and Elsewhere University held its breath.

[themagnificentgod]

Adoration

 I am not a kind man.

 Others have gazed upon my unkindness, and yet you look at me with such adoration glistening from between your lashes. It reaches out to me with strong, coaxing fingers, and beckons my soul.

 I resisted once. My heart snarling and hissing against you; a feral beast tearing and consuming, for I am greedy, my dear. I have sat upon my mountain of sin and hate and arrogance for so long. Lazy and fat with apathy for too long, so long that your heart simply looked like a free meal. I would lure you and your adoration close, close to my terrible teeth, ready to rend your softness and corrupt you.

 I began to slither, once upon a time, heavy and swollen with stolen charm, toward you. My predacious nature lead me to you, ready to steal and hurt.

 But I made a mistake, I blundered into the path of another unkind soul. Not born with gleaming eyes of hunger, but sculpted and squeezed into a creature of sin. I saw you there lurking there from behind her deep brown eyes, but I don’t know if you could see me. A part of me hoped.

 Today, I loosen the chains on my frothing, spitting, maddened heart. Just a sliver out of the murk and into your spotlight eyes, and you beam. Encouraging and eager for more, dissecting my fatty layers and cataloguing my facets for future reference. You are hungry for me and I am scared.

 There was no ignorance in you to take advantage of either. No free meal of pain, suffering, and hurt to gorge upon, and I am perplexed. I could do nothing but lie there, transfixed and in awe of you as you roar unafraid at the world. And at me.

 I stuck around those first few months, I’m sorry to say my sweet, out of curiosity. I wanted to see the monster in your chest. Would it match the one lurking in mine?

 But that was then, and I speak from now. I speak from my love for you now, as my heart now aches and thrashes.

 I saw the hurt and pain that bore your unkindness. Your own desire to take and never give back, the desperate need to feel something that would push the cold carcass of your awakening to one side, your own hunger. And while I suspected that you might be defined by your past, I know that it does not limit you. You have grown; powerful, majestic, and radiant as you look down at the world from your tower of bone and silver.

 You only seek fuel for your heart, something to keep the lights on and the tower growing high. Little men and fleeting friends bring you what you want; more wood and oil to keep the fires lit and the long night at bay. Just a little longer, a token for the ones you live for.

 So, what changed? It couldn’t have been me and my shrivelled, hatefully hissing heart. Inconceivable, I think to myself. But then I recall, with a rare moment of reflection that your heart once hissed at me. Trying to warn me against the trap that lay behind your eyes. Trying to save me from becoming fuel for the furnace inside you, the one that keeps you lurching through this world.

 You said that you did not want to hurt me, that you weren’t that kind of girl; the kind that I usually used when I grew bored. Pleading with me, that you were too fucked up and too crazy for the likes of me. To these statements, I remember smiling unconcerned, uncaring at your attempts to dissuade.

 And now you coax. Luring me into your heart with love, as your soul paces back and forth, with gleaming eyes and terrible teeth, hungry for mine. My love, my heart and my soul is little more than fuel for your bone and silver monument. Willingly given to you.

 But I warn you sweetheart, I will remain hungry for you as I burn.

 She gives me a look, raising a perfect eyebrow at my foolish words, and looks again with deep brown eyes brimming with adoration.

[themagnificentgod]

Eyes

She smiled as she looked at him,

Her eyes deep and infinite.

A dark and velvet deepness.

A galaxy or ocean,

Of loving, aching hurt.

Unflinching, “I love you,” she said,

Smiling, “you are my saviour.”

 His eyes were bright and dimming,

Flickering in the lamp light.

“I love you too sweetheart.” Eyes,

Unstable embers, glint. “But,

I don’t save people,” he lied.

[themagnificentgod]

A Brief History of Elsewhere

The Elsewhere is a deep place. It is beyond the grasp of human cognition, untouched by the cloying grasp of natural law, and indifferent to the rules of physics. Deep in the Elsewhere, the Courts play their games of Summer and Winter. They play their games with humans too. Dancing with those living too close to the soft spots of the world.

 Fae enjoy these games. The logic of pandemonium and disorder of the Elsewhere gets tedious for beings as eternal as the Good Neighbours, and so they surface from the shallows to crawl about the material world.

 They compel their flotsam, volatile particles into more constrained shapes. Taking inspiration from the dreams and nightmares of humans, they become named things, able to gleefully tread through a world bound by rules: kelpies, kitsune, banshees, huldra, púca, and nissies. 

 The Fair Folk emerged in Elsewhere University: a place of study for half-grown human spawn, a place built by a decedent of the old Éire homeland in the late 1800’s, and a place that became a home for the Hill thirty-three years later. The Founder of the University died before the Courts made it into their kingdom, but he gave it a special name. This name was lost, traded, or stolen (no one alive can recall) when the Gentry came calling, and the then Dean made deals that day to ensure a balance at the newly named Elsewhere University. They soon adapted to the sports fields, to hallways, to dorms, adopting the Campus as their home. They kept to themselves mostly, during this time. Almost all the students remaining Unaware.

 In 1953, the tentative tranquility of the University was broken. From their stronghold beneath the Grand English Building, the Fae were ousted by the Wyrm. They learnt fear that year, and fled. Fear of flame and storm and venom drove them from the western corner of Elsewhere University, out of their shadows and into the light.

 Smaller Courts were constructed in the aftermath. Summer and Winter became defined, and the Gentry walked alongside the students of Elsewhere University. Striking deals, taking what they liked, playing their games. The students learnt quickly. Through instinct, through dumb luck, and from the folklore of old Éire, they learnt.

 Although still bound by the Treaty, the Fae still enjoyed dancing with the students of EU. Changelings traded, and students Taken. Friendship and respect was grown, alongside hatred and fear on both sides. The balance of power, once thought by the Fae to be in their favour, was violently shifted in the 1980’s when they went too far and took the wrong professor. With Flaming Iron and Colloidal Silver, the Fae were reminded why the Earth belonged to the humans.

 In the recent years, a guidebook of sorts was created to help students co-exist with the Good Neighbours. Considered the most dangerous form of contraband, it was only distributed online to avoid the attention of the Fae. It was given the title; Coexisting With The Fair Folk Who Have Taken Up Residence In/Around/Beneath Your University: A How-To Guide. While disguised as a comic, an artistic expression that wouldn’t be taken too seriously outside of the Involved, it has been invaluable for those studying at Elsewhere University.

However, the Courts have noticed. They do not appreciate the Artist’s work, and while they are unable to remove the Guide, they can remove the Artist.  

Note: This is a brief history of Elsewhere University, as taken from the numerous posts and stories based around the work of charminglyantiquated. These were the main canon events that I could find and squash together to make a vague timeline of EU, but I’m sure I missed a few, so by all means let me know so I can update. 

Some of the more noticeable aforementioned events were originally prompted by dragon-saint, bookscrazygirl-blog, and of course, charminglyantiquated (sorry for turning the Fair Folk against you).  

[themagnificentgod]

An Other called Buck

“So, wait. It can’t fly?” You ask with a frown.

“Nah. Big bastard probably wishes it could though. We’d be sooo fucked though if it did, could you bloody imagine?” Buck gives you a meaningful look, then smiles.

 You laugh. It all seems so strange; stuff you never thought possible just laid out of for you so clearly. ‘A deal well struck,’ you think.

“There’re a lot of other things people think the old Slug’s kin can do. But they can’t really. That Beast didn’t need none of that fancy Hollywood shit when it fucked the King up good and proper. No sir, just waltzed in and stirred the Elsewhere up like you wouldn’t believe. Weren’t even meant to be here in the first place,” said Buck.

 He looked sad for a second. Staring at the ground, his golden eyes glittering with old memories. You almost feel sorry for him.

‘It’, you correct yourself. Not ‘him’.

‘It’.  

 At first glance, you might’ve described the thing that called itself Buck as a person. But once you had a closer look (if you were an idiot), you would quickly realise that Buck was too perfect. He looked photoshopped; an immaculate black man with flawless features, that smiled and moved just like a person. But Buck was not a person.

“And, yeah, now it’s just sitting around. Under the old English building, doing fuck all. Lazy prick.”

 Buck smiles again and looks at you.

“Anything else you’d like to know, kiddo?” he says.

 You think for a moment.

“Yeah, actually. You mentioned…” You resist the urge to rub the iron nail resting in your back pocket, “…the King. Is that like, um, I mean I’ve heard about the Royalty and the…”

“The Queen?” Buck nods, his eyes flit around for a second, searching the shadows with fierce glowing eyes. To you, it seems like it’s just the two of you, but you can’t be sure.

“Sorry Pumpkin, not really my story to tell. Always a bigger fish, and all that. Bigger teeth. You understand.”

You frown, a little disappointed, but you decide not to push your luck any further. If even half the rumours you’ve heard about the Royalty and the Queen are true, then you suppose that not knowing might be for the best.

“Um, no, in that case that’s all I’ve got, I think,” you say.

 You double check your list:

-Ask about the Good Neighbours (check)

-Where they came from (check)

-What they are (check)

-Why Elsewhere University? (check)

-What else was out there (double check; you just know you’ll be having nightmares for months)

-The Royalty (better luck next time)

 Buck was very thorough with answering all your questions. For hours, the two of you had explored all the angles and details of your queries with a forthrightness that surprised you. The Fair Folk weren’t known for their candour. But then again, that had been part of the bargain you’d made.

“Excellent. Glad I could help you out.”

 Buck’s smile widens, but in a human way. Not the ear-to-ear grin that you’ve seen from some of the other… Others.

“Your turn now,” he says, “I kept my side of the bargain.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah.” You hesitate for a moment.

“Come on, just one kiss.”

 The deal was one kiss for all the answers to any question you could every want an answer to. You’d brought a list to remind you, so you couldn’t leave with anything left out. You’d found Buck, one of the more ‘human’ of the Fair Folk, and broached an exchange with strict guidelines.

“One kiss. And I leave this meeting in the same condition that I arrived, no funny business. That’s what we agreed.” You say, nervous and sweating, your heart pounding now.

 Buck rests his hand on your shoulder, you feel almost at ease by this very human gesture.

“I know, don’t worry. No changes of any kind. You’ll leave this meeting the same way you came. Mind, spirit, and body. I gave my word,” he says, “now pucker up.”

 You close your eyes and he kisses you. Bucks lips are cold and clammy, pressed against yours. He tastes like sour milk and rust, and you try not to gag.

 He pulls away. You realise that you’ve been holding your breath.

“You taste great. Minty. I like it,” you hear Buck say.

 You open your eyes.

 A sharp wetness hits your pupil and the world blurs, stinging, as you blink franticly. It burns. It throbs with an icy burn that blisters the insides of your lids. You rub at the pain furiously and your palms come away wet with tears and fairy spit.

 Then you squint around, searching amongst the unfocused, too bright haze of Elsewhere University, looking for Buck. You keep blinking, the pain recedes and you can finally see with a vague clarity. The focus sharpens suddenly and you can see Elsewhere for what it truly is.

 You babble inanely for a moment as your eyes stream, still tender with a dull ache. Madness tickles at the edge of your mind. Shards of light and torrents of shadow swirl about you. Eyes of all shapes and colours gleam out at you, attached to faces born of pure insanity.

 Buck smiles at you. The smile breaks, exploding with golden teeth, his body covered in filthy, matted fur. It is no longer even remotely human, with fur that bubbles like molten tar and drips like oil, ever changing. Long leathery fingers reach out for you.

“Don’t worry. You’ll leave in the same condition that you arrived. Mind, spirit, and body. But in the meantime,” Buck’s golden eyes flare with delight.

“Fancy another kiss?”

   You awake on your back. Staring at a dazzling sun, you wince. Thinking for a moment you remember what you were supposed to do. You’d brought a list after all. You’d thought this through.

 Now all that is left is to find the Other they call Buck.

[charminglyantiquated]

An Idea

In spite of the Others, the university of Elsewhere is considered a safe place. Sure, you might need to walk the grounds with salt packets in your sleeves or instant porridge oats in your coat pocket. Okay, the vending machines might drop the occasional tooth and the shadows might stretch too far, too real and grasping. Drinking games might have more weight, and an even greater cost, with tall boys dealing the cards nimbly with slender fingers. Some students might be lost, replaced, taken, or changed by the Fair Folk of Elsewhere University.

  But there are far worse things lurking just out of sight, drawn close by the Uni’s hallowed grounds. Greater terrors kept away by the Court. Things that make even the most vicious member of the Unseelie seem friendly and mild.

  An emaciated pale ‘it’ was spotted late January, scuttling about the edges of a carpark beside the student bar. With ink black eyes, and yellow teeth made for rending and slurping arterial fluid; the beast looked nothing like the swarthy seductive figures found in young adult novels, that the student’s laughed at so often. On one night in early February, the baying of hounds and the hooting of the Fae reached a final crescendo with the piercing shriek of a dying thing. Later that morning, students showered themselves clean of the garlic and herb dip they had rubbed under their armpits, and set to work washing the mustard stains out of the dorm carpets.

  Elsewhere University is kept protected from the predators that prowl too close, chased away by the Court.

  Bloated, black-skinned corpse eaters are beaten back from the Biology labs. Watch close, as women with fox’s eyes and hair as dark as night, snarl at the scarecrow perched next to the University fountain; the scarecrow mewls quietly from inside its sack head, and is gone the morning after. Dead men with hollow eyes and hissing, maddening tongues are kept at bay, and too clever ravens, broaching bargains in return for first-born children, are mobbed by the Uni’s resident crows.

  The only boogeymen tolerated at Elsewhere University are the ones that belong to the Court of the Fair Folk. With only one exception.

  The rage of the Gentry is to be feared and respected, and the price of dealing with them is high (though the cost of crossing them is even higher). Some shadow things, nameless beasts, and wayward beings bound to moonlight, are allowed to make their homes at Elsewhere University. But never without the Court’s permission. Never for too long. But once upon a time, a force of nature came to Elsewhere. Something the Fair Folk had no power, alone or as one, to chase off.

  It came one day and took the western corner of the University campus as its home, displacing the Court that lived there with ease. The beast, huge and old, slithered beneath the rotted sports shed, hidden at the Edge of Things. Under the derelict and forgotten shed, the fairy hoard had sat (filled with treasures taken, bartered, traded, and stolen from the students).

  Now it is no longer theirs to keep. They cannot reclaim it themselves, because that is not the way. The Wee Folk of the Court do not do great deeds, so instead they gift and trick the strongest, smartest, loudest, and most cunning of the University’s students to remove the monster atop their treasures. None have returned.

So, remember, when you walk the western corner of the campus (past the metalworker’s shop), where only the crows fly, and you taste something sharp and acrid in the air, beware that rotted sports shed, hidden just at the Edge of Things. For the rage of the fae is nothing compared to the wroth of the Wyrm that sleeps there; far older and more cunning, with no patience for feeble dealings, and no compromise for those that dare steal. (themagnificentgod)

The official reason the old english building is fenced off is structural damage (it does almost violently decrepit), and possibly some kind of toxic chemical (the faculty’s reasons are vague). You don’t need to be told to stay away, though. Even before you’re Involved, you don’t need to be told to stay away. There is an animal instinct at the base of your skull telling you that you wouldn’t ever come back.