Autobiography of a Paradox
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I'm Ice and Fire. I love adventure and try to live life as if it was one. I'm a passionate romantic, a silly goof with a dry sense of humor.
I'm a seasoned PR and Marketing professional with a strong focus on consumer and gaming industry. At the moment I'm consulting for Chillingo, as Head of Communications, a leading publisher of games for the iPhone. I specialize in brand building campaigns that create excitement among the press and consumer communities. From strategic suggestions on game creation, to tailored PR and marketing campaigns, I use my know to get the games the attention and the sales they deserve. Pretty much every game I take under my wing goes AAA. Bottom line, I love what I do.
Im a Co-Founder of Renaissance Productions and a co-producer of a series of most amazing themed events in USA. These include Calaveras Celtic Faire, Golden Gate Renaissance Faire, Valhalla Renaissance Faire, Shasta and Folsom Renaissance Faires and Ardenwood Shakespeare Festival and many others. Also, I have established two successful guilds on the circuit: Royal White Eagle (www.royalwhiteeagle.com) premier Polish Renaissance reenactment group based out of San Jose, Ca., and Needles Eye, tailors guild that offers a glimpse to how clothes of the past were made. I'm an actress and have played a series of key roles on the faire circuit including those of Queen Mary of Scotland and Anna Jagiellonka, a Polish princess on travels though Europe.
I have a passion for history and horses. I used to compete in endurance racing and I made the Barcelona Team in 92. But that was then. Currently, I am a proud owner for a black Percheron gelding named Knight. Knight is an ex jousting horse who lost the passion for lance carrying, armor bearing jousters, who bounced their sticks on his head. I started Knight under saddle before he entered the jousting world and I fell in love with him from the start. When I heard of his retirement, I jumped at the chance to own him. Now when ever possible, I entertain faire goers by riding my black steed in beautiful gowns while competing against knights in pas de arms events at faires.
I love seeing people and companies succeed, and I enjoy having a hand in making good things happen, making others dreams come true. That's my greatest virtue and vice. So be careful what you asked for, you just might get it.
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Me, my horse in my latest my duds
Co Producter, Theme Director, Guild coordination, Marketing, PR, Creative design and ad placement
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Marketing, PR, Creative design and ad placement. Also a speaker _ the conference
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Blood and Fire - Copyright 2010 - working draft
Last updated Jan 19, 2010
Noirciret Blanc Club in Paris, France. A sanctuary for every weirdo that considered himself or herself unnatural, or in touch with the spirit world, and those who actually were. Knowing Jessicas passion for the occult I should have expected something like it, but I was taken aback just the same by this dimly lit dungeon and its patrons.
The club was situated in the cellars beneath a beautiful mansion in the vicinity of the Palais de Justice, a part of Paris still reminiscent of the late 1780s revolutionary period. The house had been undergoing renovations when a wall to an antechamber crumbled exposing a dark corridor that had led the perplexed workers into catacombs used to house prisoners during the French Revolution. Capitalizing on the history and atmosphere, the murky corridors of the vault were quickly renovated into a spacious club.
From the outside, the club's outer building resembled any other establishment in this part of town: im-posing, beautiful and majestic. Three massively build guards loomed outside the wooden double doors which comprised the front entrance to the club. The line of clientele dressed in a variety of attire and black leather covered a myriad of styles from the modern to something that might have been in fashion several centuries past. I was impressed with some of the Victorian inspirations I spied in the line and wanted to examine them closer, but Jess skipped the waiting clientele all together and with my hand clasped tightly in hers, she pulled me to the lead guard, unperturbed by the looks from the not so pa-tiently awaiting crowds. She caught the eye of the bouncer who had been scanning a clipboard of names, who, and there was no mistake in this, was one of the largest human beings Id ever seen. She tugged at his sleeve until he leaned down to her so that she could whisper something into his ear. Then, he beamed her a bemused expression. It resembled more of a snarl more than a smile, but Jess did not seem to mind. He looked us over once, raised her brow when he saw me and then with a shrug, moved out of the way to let us in.
The two rearmost guards just as intimidating as the one we just passed opened the double doors and we stepped into a dark corridor and down a wide windy staircase that led us to a balcony overlooking the cellar hall from which the music emanated.
The grotto below was cut into a gothic cruciform floor plan with a long nave marking the body of the club and ending in two apses. It was flanked on either side by two wide aisles. Private dining booths converted from prison cells lined each wall of the aisles. A small battalion of bartenders busied themselves behind an enormous bar at the head apse. A large gothic chandelier hung high above the crossing, bathing the seductively moving mass of dancers in a shimmering light. Numerous wall torches finished off the ambiance of the club. The thick, sweet scent of black lickerish permeated the air. Absinthe seemed to be the main choice of poison for the night.
The abundance of power that reverberated from within was riveting. The air was thick with magic. It emanated from everywhere. Witches, druids, vampires, lupins, faes and even some creatures whose aura I did not recognize mingled openly while other beings too unnatural to be seen by this assembly surveyed the clubs patrons from their darkened private dining-cells. A chill ran through me and bile formed in my throat as I watched the people below. Most humans who entered these sorts of establishments did not know what they were dabbling in. They came for the atmosphere, or to catch a taste of the paranormal they should have feared. I found out first hand the travesty that magic in the wrong hands could cause. And magic was not the only thing to fear here. If these humans prized their lives at all theyd avoid places like this. Noirciret Blanc was like a five star restaurant with an amazing dinner menu live, ready and willing to be served.
Jessica was one of the true minorities in the crowd a powerful witch even at her young age. Magic was strong in her family, and she was especially gifted. I, on the other hand, could sense, taste and recognize magic, but beyond that, nada. It wasnt always like that. I too was born with the ability to wield the power and showed much promise right from the start. But the ability evaporated the day my parents died some ten years ago. It was an awful time in my life and it was thought that the pain I experienced locked the magic deep inside me, so deep in fact that I could not draw upon it. The Ministry of Magic and the Guardians Guild did try to reverse my bound state. They tried all of their tricks: powerful spells, mind probes, crap that Id rather not remember, but nothing worked.
Jess never gave up on me though. At every turn she drew at her bottomless bag of optimism to keep me tied to this world of paranormal I was born into. Thanks to her I became an encyclopedia of useless spells, wards, and rituals without the ability to bring them to life. It is one thing to know magic, another to wield it. The sudden withdrawal of it almost made me mad. Going cold turkey from hardcore mind control and amazing abilities to nothing was absolutely devastating. Hell, I could not even raise wards. Even humans dabbling in the occult who know nothing of the hand of power can do that. Me? Nothing. The wards never kept, they just cracked like flies caught in a fly zapper then simply fizzled away. As to salt, ever the symbol of purity and a binding agent, in my hands was only good in the kitchen.
Eventually, with reluctance I accepted that the path of magic was closed to me and I moved on with my mundane existence, enjoying life and the simple pleasures it offered. I had a great career, my hobbies, was surrounded by people that loved me. I even had a studly fiancé...until a few hours ago.
Oh hell. Coming to places like Noirciret Blanc constrains my soul every time. After all, I was born with power, was filled with it, wielded it; it was a part of my nature, a part of me. When I lost it, I lost a part of myself. But here we were nonetheless. I watched the darkly attired crowd mesmerized. Noirciret Blanc was nothing like the Goth clubs I attended with Jess in San Fran. For one, Ive not seen so many beautiful, spellbinding people in one place at one time, ever. Most women were garbed in Victorian-influenced couture, hairstyles to match. Men by their side wore similar period-style garments. Most were in their twenties. A decade older and certainly not dressed to kill, I stood out like a sore thumb.
The crowd on the dance floor moved sensuously to an arousing beat of primarily Goth-ish Euro techno renaissance mix, some in Latin and other languages that I did not recognize. I recognized some Delerium and Lesiem, but most of the repertoire was too dark and loud for my taste. Where tastes were a topic again, I was in the minority. This was definitely an in crowd, and we most certainly were the outsiders. They all gawked at us and our little dark corner. We invaded their sanctuary. Jess at least was somewhat accepted. Her reputation preceded her and her magic was recognized wherever she went. Those who wielded power knew who and what she was, and left us alone. But the crowd surveyed me with something that boarded on disgust. I did not explode with magic and considering I was still garbed in my equestrian attire, dirty and smelling rather strongly of my horse and manure, not to mention Ive not had a chance to look at myself in the mirror in hours, where they were concerned, I was probably something revolting to behold.
Of all the places to pick, why did she drag me here? Cause for just a second I was persuaded I wanted blood and Jess thought this would be a perfect place to get it After all, humans are so easy to manipulate when you dangle a carrot of power in their face.
And so here we were getting plastered and disturbing the atmosphere of the French spiritual underground thinking up ways we could repay pain with pain. Except that with every drink my anger subsided; which pissed off Jessica to no end. Totally drunk now, actually first time Ive seen her in this condition, she was out of control and I wasnt sure what to do. . She cursed loudly in French, English, or Latin the whole of male race. At least she did not cast spells. Her tantrums, however human, did not sit well with the establishment. It took some courage, but the manager finally did approach our table and asked us to leave. First time Jess just waved him away. The second time he approached she just pierced him with a look. She must have probed him because the red color drained from his face. Few words into his sentence he gave up all together and he left. Jess would not budge. I did not either, I couldnt without her.
Men suck Jessica yelled again and hiccupped. Bastards, theyre all firkin bastards Her mascara blackened most of her face and she looked horrible. I actually felt worse for her than myself at this moment. The silly git was taking the whole situation so much worse than I. Then again, I had practice in getting my heart broken and she, the ever fervent romantic, could not believe that shit like that happened to friends of hers, especially me. Im a pretty private person even a recluse to some, so she did not realize the emotional baggage I was holding onto until she faced it herself. I smirked and shook my head. Poor gal. Welcome to my fucked up world.
Jess sat down to the table again and poured herself another glass alcohol. I wanted pass out so bad. I needed some time to think and her loud and obnoxious attitude really was beginning to piss me off. And then of course there was this club she dragged us into. The cold daggers I felt cast in our direction were beginning to make me feel really uncomfortable. The unwanted attention was really making me cringe.
I lifted my glass taking another sip of whatever she poured. It tasted hot and spicy. Jessica brought it after her last turn with the bartender. He cut her off already but when he wasnt looking she grabbed two bottles closest to her and smuggled them to the table. I wish I knew what she obtained before taking that first swig. I almost choked as the burning, vile liquid as it swept down my windpipe. I truly believe that my ears actually rose in temperature by about 5 degrees and some of the nerve ending in my pupils must have shriveled up and died when the hot tears filled my eyes. But, I liked spicy things and the taste improved with each following sip I took. Now I was simply drinking it because the hot liquid actually kept me awake rather than getting me drunk and staying awake was what I intended to do.
Her drink? Vodka. Damn light weight finish your drink and pass out, I thought, still embarrassed by her earlier outbursts. As if on command, she smiled, raised her glass, gulped down the rest of was left in her shooter and promptly hit her head on the table. I sighed in relief. Finally.
*** 2 ***
"May I join you?"
I was so absorbed in thought that I did not hear anyone approach our little dark corner. The husky voice belonged to a mountain of a man whose face I could not make out in the shadows. By the less than amused expressions of women who flaunted themselves behind him, in hopes that he would take notice, I was pretty sure that my stranger was either very important, a great looker, or both. A shiver ran up my spine as I felt a blast of power reverberate off my shields, but he did not penetrate and probe at me. My stranger was Otherworld and very powerful.
Without waiting for an answer he slid himself into the seat across from me, next to Jess.
"I have not extended an invitation for you to sit down, so, aveatque vale, please." I ended the sentence in Latin, to underline the point, pretty sure that the words were not lost on him. The unwelcome guest only made himself more comfortable by leaning his back on the wall behind him. I felt the intensity of his eyes on me as he studied me in the prolonged silence. Finally he pointed at Jessica.
I hear your friend has man trouble. Anyone I can off? Im offering my services. His voice was light and filled with humor, and his demeanor took me by surprise. He had a faint accent that I could not place. It certainly wasnt French, German or Slavic, but definitely European. Hungarian perhaps? I groaned inwardly. I was not in the state of mind to entertain smug, presumptive, studs.
"If you showed up a few hours ago, you probably would have gotten the job. But the more I think about it, I don't think he is worth the trouble."
"Isn't that up to Jessica?"
Like I expected, in these circles everyone knew who Jess was. I looked over at my drunk friend sprawled on the table, snoring lightly. My best friend was a full package: gorgeous, intelligent, fun with a captivating personality and power most could only imagine. I on the other hand was thought strong, prudent, always in control. No one ever thought me a damsel in distress; I never gave off such a vibe. Thats probably why his comment stung. "Actually no. I'm the offended party." I think I noticed him raise an eyebrow in surprise. "You see, my best friend here and I have found my fiex fiancé in bed with another woman earlier today."
"You must think me a total ass," he said finally leaning forward for the first time offering me a chance to study him. He was in his late thirties, and, as I expected, ruggedly handsome. His black mane siluetted his chiseled facial features and settled on his broad shoulders in small waves. A few strands of his indigo locks fell over his eyes and I swallowed as those pools of dark yellowish green met me straight on. There was something unnatural about them, something about their depth; they did not belong on the face of a man this young. They belonged to someone who lived for centuries, someone hundreds of years old on whom the knowledge of centuries past wasnt wasted. I saw amazing power in those eyes, so much power and magic in fact a cold shiver ran through me, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. The gentleness that protruded from his orbs was just as strong and surprising. A crooked half smile on his lips too was reassuring. But didnt the most dangerous predators usually look most inviting?
I groaned inwardly, raised my glass in mock salute and emptied the contents hastily. I regretted doing so immediately. The drink was tall, and the thick hot liquid coated my throat burning all the way down. I felt my eyes water then my throat locked up. I could not take a breath. My hands latched around my throat as I started gasping for breath. Anguish, confusion, pain filled my senses and red tears filled my eyes. I pierced him with a horrified glare and a plea for help.
In seconds he was next to me. He firmly pressed me to his back, wrapped one of his hands around my shoulders while the other settled on my forehead. He pulled my head upwards. Breathe, you need to breathe through this. Adara, breathe. he whispered urgently. I fought hard for the control of my body and finally managed a tiny gasp. He pulled a small box out of his pocket, thumbed it open, placed it under my nose and made me take a whiff of its contents. With difficulty I managed to take in the vapor. The cooling sensation of something resembling vanilla filled my nostrils then spread through my insights and almost immediately my throat started relaxing. Just as it did, he smeared a tiny portion of the salve on my lips. I licked at it as he instructed. His soothing voice guided me through breathing as the ointment melted and coated my burned mouth and insights.
He waived towards the bartender who immediately brought a bottle of sparkling water to our table. He diluted some of the ointment in the glass and guided it to my lips. I downed the liquid as he instructed. I dont think I ever tasted anything so wonderful. He whispered soothingly in another language, and once awhile I heard him speak my name, his hand lightly caressed my cheek while with the other he drew me in close. He locked his fingers with mine and held me tight. The weight of the day settled on me heavily and drained me emotionally as well. In that moment it felt good to be just held. I closed my eyes and relaxed into him. I was lulled into a sort of serenity by his voice and the warmth of his caress. It was awhile later, when I heard him whisper my name again, did I return back to reality.
"How do you know my name?" I managed coarsely, my throat still throbbing.
I felt his chest raise and fall as he murmured into my hair. Jess brother Steve. Seems that Jess hasnt been answering her phone and she also blocked him telepathically. He had asked for my help in finding her and you. Noirciret Blanc is Jess regular hang out place. The bartender called me when you two arrived.
"Ah" I managed. That was just like Steve. Hed never intrude on his sister, but would keep an eye from afar to make sure she was all right. He was always ready to come to her aid. Jack and Mike, her two other brothers, were just as attentive of their youngest sibling and just as protective of me. The feeling of warmth spread through me as I thought of them. Demarion shifted and reached for the almost empty bottle of the liquor I was drinking. He examined in the light.
"That was awful." I managed sparing it a glance.
"Yet you've managed to empty most of it." He said teasingly. "What I can't fathom is how didnt kill over some time ago."
"Huh?" I jerked away from him and looked at him sternly.
"Incandia is not meant to be drunk in gulps, its meant to be sipped. And in small quantities, even by my kind. The ingredients are harsh, can burn a hole right through you if you dont build the necessary immunity."
"Your kind?" I knew he would not reveal to me what he was, but I could not stop myself from teasing. When he did not say anything, as I expected, I continued. "I guess the fact that I'm fond hot foods saved me. Demarion only narrowed his eyes at me, and finally nodded."
The lights slowly brightened. The music too was gone now and a number of dancers were heading for the door. I raised my eyebrow and gave Demarion a questioning look. "The club will be closing in half an hour for a druid ritual. Club members only."
I started to panic. I was not interested in going anywhere. How the hell was I going drag Jess dead weight at this hour all over Paris? Hotel was not an option, the stable would draw too much unwarranted attention. I could rent another place somewhere, but I did not have any idea of where I was. And sure enough, like Demarion noted neither of us had our phones on. I actually threw mine at Mal when he managed to tear his face away from the woman he was banging; I missed the jerk and the phone shattered as it hit the wall behind him. Jessica too stunned at what she was seeing dropped her handbag to the floor. We bolted after that, trying to escape the pursuing naked Mal and a litany of apologies. I did not remember any numbers in the cell phone either. Technology sometimes it makes you brainless.
Freak'n great.
"Come, I will help you get your friend into a taxi." He started getting up when I caught his hand with a raised a plea. "Please, we I cant go back to the hotel tonight."
He took me in for a few the without turning away he raised a finger and a hulk of a man approached the table. The man towered over both of us, and thats an accomplishment considering I was 5'9", my rescuer around 6'3". Based on the style of dress and the mannerism, I assumed this was Demarions bodyguard. Demarion said something in another language to his man. The goon never even shot me a glance, just listened to his orders and left with a nod. Demarion proceeded to unceremoniously drag unconscious Jess out of the seat and into his arms. You two can stay at my place tonight. Gregri will take you to the hotel tomorrow and help you square things off.
Ok, this was an unexpected turn of events. I was about to protest when Jessica woke, wrapped her arms around Demarion the moment she realized who was picking her up and jumped into his arms. "Demi, I knew youd find us," she whispered dreamily. She game his a warm peck on a check and snuggled into the small of his heck only to fall asleep again.
Demarion shot me a wink and preceded to move leave the club. I shook my head and followed.
Outside the club a long black limo awaited. Demarion was standing in front of it, holding the door open for me. I could see Jess inside slumped on the seat where he deposited her. He expected me to join her inside, but my legs glued themselves to the sidewalk and would not budge. So, Jessi knew him, but I did not. My face betrayed my thoughts, my mistrust, and at last my resignation, but I stood my ground. Wind picked up a little and a chill ran up my spine. With a rather apparent sigh, Demarion took a step towards me. He brushed a strand of my auburn hair out of my eye. Then relinquished his cell phone from his pocket and opened it to dial. "Who's number would you like me to dial?"
Thoughtlessly gave him the first number that popped into my mind. It was the only number I could remember under the circumstances. He set the phone on speaker mode, and raised an eyebrow as the answering machine picked up and Amanda Atteros attorney at Law voice rang through the dial tone. "My name is Demarion Virent. I'm here with Jessica Bategranand and Adara." he looked at me awaiting my response."
"Fallon."
"Adara Fallon on July 22, 2008 somewhere around 1:23 am in Paris, France. I found the girls stranded in my club and will be taking them home for the night and i am planning on depositing them unharmed tomorrow to their desired location. I'm making this phone call as a gesture of good will as Adara here believes that I'm some sort of a monster looking to snare her into my layer where I will have my way with her." I blushed hard and tried to suppress a groan that made him only grin harder in return. I leaped for the phone, but caught only the air as Demarion like a cat stepped out of the way. "Though the thought has crossed my mind as she is absolutely delectable and I'm a sucker for a pretty face in an intelligent woman. But, I solemnly swear to keep my fingers off her, unt'il I'm given permission."
I blushed hard and shook my head watching his performance. He left his contact information next then handed me the phone. "Amanda, I'll call tomorrow. "
--- TBC ---
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