The Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow

[Rowan Finnegan]

Mik must’ve been higher than Rowan was, for he forgot that she had her own joint. She held it up to her lips to signal the fact, chuckling softly to herself. The THC was working wonders on her body, letting her melt into the French silk cushions of the couch; thoughts turning from her tongue and instead forming in her mind.

                Rowan took one final drag of the thing before it went out, discarding the roach in an antique  porcelain ashtray on the table, swapping the joint for a long, slim cigarette; she lit the thing with her magic, drawing a Veve in the air and a flame springing into existence at the tip of the tobacco filled paper. Rowan puffed out a smoke ring or two before making another swift motion, pulling a remote from the side table and changed the music on the speaker system.

                Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the room and Rowan nodded her head to the beat.

                ‘Just like the white-winged dove, sings a song sounds like she singin’! Who, whoo, whooo.’

                A smug smirk crossed Rowan’s lips, “I’ve always found the White Witch’s voice to be very soothing…”

                Mikhail conjured up some mystical flames as if it were nothing more than an afterthought. Rowan found herself wondering why anyone would want to deprive the human race of such a gift. She then found herself wondering why more people hadn’t tried to touch the shinning Light that blazed behind her right shoulder. Perhaps they didn’t know how? Rowan learned it from the archetypal spirits of the Voodoo pantheon, but Mik was walking proof that one didn’t need to contact the ‘other side’ to attain the talent. That bugged her. She hadn’t heard the Ascension talk about the Loa either… Could it be taught? Was it just genetics? There were so many questions bubbling at the brim of her brain. She never did ask Mik how he learned to touch the Light…

                Later… She told herself.

                Rowan lowered the volume a smidge and turned her attention back to Asha, “Ma cher, what I want to know is why this cult has it out for us? Mr. Ascension wasn’t too clear on all of that other than the fact that they want us dead. Do they fear this power? I mean, don’t get me wrong, mon Dieu, I can see why they would be scared. This is a huge change for the human race, but it is a God-given gift. This may very well be the next step in human evolution! If everyone on the planet were able to harness the power of the Elements… why… think of what that would mean for us! A new golden age for the species. Think of the wonders we could create if we all came together utilizing this energy… I do believe, with all my heart, that this is the power of God… Is this what she used when she created the Universe?”

                Grabbing her drink and taking a deep swig, Rowan went on, “Yes, I suppose that could be scary if such power were in the wrong hands… But the same can be said for any number of technological wonders in the history of man. That is why it is imperative that we form a Tribe of sorts… My brother, Aiden, so loved those old X-men comics and movies; the story feels familiar to all of that. Humans with insane abilities, those in the shadows fearing them and trying to exterminate them…  We’re gonna need all the Gris-Gris we can get if assassins are gonna start poppin’ up… Surely, these ‘Atharim’ do not think that we will develop a God complex, trying to reign over the rest of humanity. The Goddess has given us these gifts to help improve the world, of course, there will be bumps along the way… But with time, we will each master these talents… Why, I think one day we can even use this magic to fuel our technology, doing away with pollution, disease, and perhaps even death. Can we not reason with this cult? I do not want to see any blood spilled over a simple misunderstanding… If only they would just talk with some of us…”

                Rowan’s expression darkened, brow furrowing. She did not like others meddling in her affairs. Why… she had been wielding magic for over ten years! She had not gone insane, nor killed countless innocents… Well… There was that one time… But she didn’t know what she was doing then! And Father had been so generous in providing for the families that had been afflicted by that particular… incident… If anything that could be viewed as a positive event. Rowan knew with certainty that at least fifteen people had attained the finest education money could buy because of Father’s intervention, and that would have not happened if Rowan hadn’t accidentally killed all of those people in the hospital.

                I still don’t know how I did that… Lord knows I’ve tried to figure it out… It was a freak accident. That’s all it was… An accident, Rowan thought to herself.

                Rowan smiled sweetly at her company, sipping her wine, trying to drown out the guilt that was now swelling up in the pit of her stomach. She would use her gifts to benefit humanity. Never again would she use these talents for bloodshed.

                Well.

                Not unless the person in question deserved it.

[Ashavari]

"Oh, all of the above. Most myth has a basis in truth, I think. And if you don't know that, the reason you don't know that is they protect us from it." Mik prodded gently at the question of what she was; why she was on the Atharim's list. Nox had guessed, and he had been the one to tell the only others who knew. Asha suddenly realised she didn't know how to say it, or whether she really wanted to. Not because she lacked trust, exactly, but because she was not sure what they would do with the information. Three people was hardly a crowd, but to someone with her particular uniqueness it might as well have been. Well. That and her mind was muddling, even with Mik suddenly vanished from her senses.

"They hunt you because they believe you'll destroy the world. Or one of you will, anyway. And let's be fair, it would only take one." Her eyes bounced to Mik's flaming disc, though it was to Rowan she spoke. There was no fear in her voice, nor accusation. Indignation coloured the woman's voice and feel, such a powerful sense of both confidence and entitlement that Asha was almost dizzy with it.

"I told you not all of them are bad. Some of them helped me when I got stuck here." She shrugged. It had been some time since she had seen either Nox or Aria, and she was unwilling to break either's confidence given the knife-edge they toed. Though maybe she could message them about Rowan and her cafe.

The guilt welled up suddenly.

Her gaze snapped up, surprised by the abrupt voracity of the emotion belied by Rowan's sweet smile. She leaned into Tobias quite unintentionally, grasping for his hand like she sought an anchor in a storm. "What did you do?"

[Xander]

God the woman talked too much. She was eating into the little puff he'd taken but she went on and Asha was grabbing his hand and leaning into him and there was nothing else to hold on to. He looked at her and she was a mixture of what he saw in Rowan and himself now that her fingers were entwined with his. Protective wasn't his nature, but something... he kept telling himself that it wasn't anything other than being a good person. But Xander knew he was lying to himself - he was not a good person.

Asha's question hung in the air. And Xander put a few peices together. She wasn't reading thoughts. Why ask what did you do? Why ask that simple question and still react this way. And she hadn't reacted as if she were kin with images. She felt - an empath. Xander had only met a self-proclaimed empath once but she was nothing but a micro-expressionist. She read people well. But Asha hadn't said anything to them about her ability who was he to say something.

But it put a new emphasis on his feelings. She was clinging to him, like he tried to block out the images. It was never easy. And it had taken years of practice to be able to walk around this many special people. When he was younger he'd have had a severe migraine. Instead of letting the Voodoo Queen his ire he focused on the food infront of him. The pot was good at one thing, and he was hungry before he came. Xander didn't gorge but he focused on the sweet fried goodness of the beignet. Ms. Rowan would never truly understand the snakes. He knew he wouldn't. Even if he met one. They were not good people either he didn't care what lies they told themselves - they killed for a living.

[Armande]

When they stepped out of the spa doors, he was not surprised at the fact that it was dark. They had left the safe house late in the afternoon and their time in the spa had been hours. Mostly because of Valeriya. Not that he minded. He'd taken her here for that reason, to experience a pampering and indulgence foreign to her. He hoped that it did not make her even more spoiled. A fool's hope, he knew, chuckling to himself.

Neither of them were exactly humble by nature.

He did appreciate how refreshed she looked. He clothing was an attractive fit on her. The leggings were quite fetching. But what made him laugh was her wide toothy grin at the discomfort on the spa worker's face. Vale was proud of the reactions she elicited, of the attention. 

He'd seen her scars up close, of course, calloused fingers lightly tracing the near endless criss-crossings on her back. Her awakening had been much more...intense than his, especially considering she had done it to herself.

She'd told him of it, seeming to revel in what it meant- for her; about her. The retelling alone was an almost sensual experience.

As they wandered down the street, she peppered him with questions- What is that? How does it move? Who is that up there? What is that made of? What is that building?" He enjoyed the excitement and energy of this very young woman exploring a world vaster and more varied than anything she could have imagined. She was bouncing, pointing and craning and stepping up on toes to peer about.

There were any number of restaurants as they meandered along no route at all, but he was content to wait until she was ready.

Eventually, their walk took them to a structure that was as out of place as it was possible to be, here in Moscow. He recognized the style at once, though he had never been to New Orleans- or the United States, for that matter- himself. America and Americans interested him very little. They were far too driven by a sense of contrariness.

The raucously loud music and bright lights spilling out the open windows and doors sounded as if a grand party was being had. But the smells of food that drifted out as well confirmed what the sign said. Not just a cafe. A restaurant.

And, lest he was mistaken, an experience. He looked at her.

"That is where we will eat. A restaurant in the style of a region of...another land far away from here." The names would mean little to her, right now, anyway. They headed up the walkway, the music and celebration getting louder, but of course not enough to prevent conversation. "This restaurant embodies festivities very similar to the Radyeni- though they do not usually include public intercourse," he said with a smile. Usually, being the operative word. It all depended on where the celebrations were being held.

Whether it was Mardi Gras or Carnivale, they all were based on the the Bacchanals of old. Not just in the Greco-Roman world either, as the same kind of spring celebrations also had been found across North Africa and even as far as India.

From a psychological standpoint, it made perfect sense. It was a complete abandonment of control and reason for the experienc of ecstacy. ἔκστασις - ek-stasis was "outside onself". The frenzy and irrationality of the Bachanals allowed people to purge themselves, for the moment at least, of responsibility and control and order.

And the copious amounts of alcohol turned it into a religious experience, wresting the human spirit from the mind's control. Dionysus the victor over Apollo. Even the church could not stamp it out, choosing instead to follow the usual course of incorporating them into their own structure.

Fat Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday began 40 days of Lent, in which people sacrificed something important to themselves. One day of pure indulgence.

Valeriya- indeed all the Khlysty- would feel at home.

They entered the front door and soon stood in front of a wizened old woman. It took a moment for him to understand her speech, her accented English was so thick. Soon enough, they were taken to a table in a room that proclaimed itself the Seance Room.

Secluded alcoves with half circled booths or tables dotted the edges of the room where patrons sat and drank, while other tables were scattered about with the paraphernalia of the supernatural arts. Tarot, Ouija, dowsing rods, copies of the I Ching, and many more. A few guests could be seen attempting use them, flipping over cards or casting bones. He chuckled.

At their seats he simply ordered a ginger ale. At least some of the help spoke Russian, which was good for Valeriya. He explained to her what the various drinks were so she could order. Then he smiled at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "Well, what do you think"

@"Valeriya"

[Mikhail]

Good lord, but Rowan could talk. Just on and on and on. Seriously. Mik eyed her briefly. Yeah. Hot. Buuuuut.....he hoped she didn't talk like that in the sack. Jeez, talking about spoiling the moment. Oh yeah. That's good, so good. The man in the boat. Keep going...You know, that reminds me of a boat. I was on one once when I fell overboard. Oh yeah...yes! The water was cold and I was freezing. And then...Yes!.... Hehehehe...

Yeah no. Mood killer indeed.

Prolly not though. Moron. He knew he was exaggerating. Maybe. He hoped. There was a touch of crazy in her, after all. And they could be all kinds of fun. Like seriously. Maybe even worth the talking.

Still, it was an interesting idea. A club ofrsomething. Especially if Asha's people were coming for them. Not that Mik would join, exactly. Not his thing. Clubs. Gangs. Families. All dumb. But maybe he'd pop in from time to time.

To Asha, "Yeah, I suppose I could hurt a lot of people if I tried." Well he had tried. And he was pretty good at it. Not that the cute librarian needed to know, not now that she was talking about stuff. He tapped the side of his glass absentmindedly. "So...not all bad. You think we could get one of your nicer friends to talk to us? See what's what?"

Instead of an answer, he saw her lean into Tobias and take his hand. He didn't flinch but he did raise an eyebrow curiously. Dude was sitting quietly but he could see the man was a bit antsier. Maybe. The fact that the man was hard to read told a whole lot already.

You don't hide unless you have something to hide, right?

He looked at Rowan. "Might be worth talking about, Rowan. X-men you called it? What would we be? Not very PC, you know, X-MEN. How about the Power People? The Ultra-Force?" He winked and smiled at her to show that he was only joking about the names.

Rowan was fun and happy seeming. He doubted she'd be offended. Or would. What did he know.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Asha spoke in her demure manner. She wasn’t a woman of many words, but what she did say only made Rowan think more. Perhaps there was something to be said about that, making every word count. Rowan would never know.

                The thought of it taking ‘only one person,’ well, Rowan had not considered that. The words struck home though; visions of that hospital. Rowan’s endless cry over the loss of her unborn child and her husband. The scream carried throughout the whole building. Everyone just dropping to the ground instantly, like a puppet cut from his strings. Five colors of light arraying themselves into a strange shape. Vanishing. Lost completely to Rowan’s mind and memory. Power coming to her fingertips at a whim.

                Goosebumps covered every particle of her flesh as the images pulsed in her mind’s eye.

                She took a deep breath.

                Gone.

                With a shake of the head, Rowan was back in the moment, reaching again for her wine.

                Rowan downed the glass once more, without a care for the inevitable heavy intoxication that was ebbing into her. She pursed her lips and uttered a few words, all in Creole, under her breath; beckoning Erzulie Freda to bring the Tarot cards back into her palm.

                The cards floated through the air by an unseen hand, shuffling rapidly. Rowan took her eyes off of them and looked back at Mikhail, smiling with her usual charismatic candor, “You must not indulge in the movies and media that came before you, dear. How old are you? Not much older than myself, if I had to guess. There were a few X-men movies that had come out when I was only a few years old, they were cute. Aiden and I used to play pretend… I was always this one woman from the story; her name escapes me. What I do remember is that she had marvelous psychic abilities and supreme control over the flames; life and death. Aiden was always pretending to be some bloke with angel wings… I wonder if he can fly now…”

                The cards fell into Rowan’s outstretched hand, she didn’t even bother looking as they did. Her hands moved on their own accord and began shuffling the Tarot even more. Without waiting for a response, Rowan looked over to Asha and ignored Tobias entirely, “Yes, I should think it would be a good thing to speak with any good members of this rival Tribe… Am I understanding you correctly? Some of our own world’s myths and legends are indeed based on the past? You mean to tell me some of these allegorical tales have indeed happened?” She was utterly shocked, not speechless though, “Darling, how long ago are we talking? Surely if there were ever literal Gods and Monsters walking this planet… Surely… They would have left some trace of their presence. I do not claim to understand archeology, but why haven’t any of the ‘experts’ found anything to indicate this? Of, we have our mysteries… Stonehenge and that sort of thing, but-“

                Rowan’s eyes drifted down to the table and there she spotted three Tarot cards laying face down on the table.

                An audible gasp erupted from her lips, eyes bulging from her face. Rowan lept up, the rest of the cards scattering from her hand, falling to the floor in a storm of painted cardstock.

                “No… This hasn’t happened in a long time…” Rowan whispered to herself.

                Maman Jazmine, Rowan’s old teacher in all things Voodoo and Hoodoo, had told her everything she knew about the cards. One thing stuck out in Rowan’s mind. Anytime the cards fell out of your deck, while you were shuffling them, those specific cards were the word of the Goddess; it meant that the Divine was trying to tell you something. Those cards were never to be ignored.

                Rowan reached out to the cards on the table, with a shaky hand. She spun them about so that they were face up.

                Temperance.

                The Hierophant.

                The Emperor.

                Turning from the table and her guests, Rowan rushed over to the intercom next to the door. She buzzed it several times until a familiar voice flowed from the speaker.

                “Yes, Mistress?” Gareth’s voice asked.

                “There are two new guests in the café. A man and a woman. That’s all I know. Find them. Listen for them. Watch for them. Anything that may be off or odd. If you can’t do it yourself, I want to know right away and I will come down and find them myself,” Rowan fired into the microphone of the intercom, clearly impatiently.

                “Right away, Mistress. Will that be all?”

                “Oh, I shouldn’t have to say it. Bring them up here to my private gathering. Make haste.”

                “Of course, Mistress,” Gareth said before the intercom went silent.

                Rowan spun from the wall, almost falling into it. She took another deep breath, steadying herself.

                You’re loosin’ it girl, she thought.

                With a forced, calm expression, Rowan looked back up to her guests.

                “Do forgive that outburst. The cards. They don’t… do that very often. It seems like the Café is serving as a beacon tonight. There are two others here with remarkable gifts… Yes… I’m sure of it,”She spoke smoothly as she took her place back on the couch, next to Mikhail.

                Rowan rolled another joint.

[Ashavari]

It got worse before it got better, even with Tobias's focus tugging the feeling away. Such pain it was like a choke-hold, drowning everything else to oblivion. Asha's skin shivered. Tears pricked her eyes, quickly scrubbed from her cheeks with a sleeve. Suddenly she didn't want to know the explanation that would make sense of such sorrow, squashed so quickly down with a gulp of wine. Then Rowan disappeared all together.

Asha's mind skipped over the conversation, murmured an apology under her breath for how tightly she had probably crushed Tobias's hand. It took a moment to piece herself back together now that the room was quieter. The emotions fled with their owners, but the effects on her body were less transitory. "I can tell them about you," she said to Rowan. "It's up to them if they choose to come and speak to you."

It was the best she could do; she wouldn't break Nox or Aria's confidence, not after all they had done to help her when she had been, quite literally, left with nothing. A wan smile lifted her lips, to show she was not being simply diffident with the information, only loyal.

"Rowan, from where I am sitting there are literal gods and monsters walking the earth." She laughed a little, though she felt wrung out by now. Tobias's hunger seeped through, though at least that was something easy enough to ignore. She'd spent enough time living in her car with barely a cent to her name to have conquered that much control. "You don't know about it, the world does not know about it, because that's what the Atharim do."

More guests? She glanced at Tobias, worried.

[Xander]

Asha told Rowan she'd tell her nice snake people about her. Was this chick fucked up? She wanted to invite blood thirsty killers into her home? "You are one crazy bitch." He laughed before he explained. "Inviting killers into your home. Or into your presence. All snakes - these Atharim - kill. They may be nice, but they are nothing but death."

The fact that there were others of special nature here made Xander tense up. And Asha looked at him. More people meant more emotions more dealing with things. It also meant he had to block out more. He wasn't sure how to keep himself from a migraine, or Asha from absorbing everyone. He moved a little closer to her and whispered softly, "Tell me how I can help." He hoped the added focus with 5 auras of special nature would be offset by that.

[Mikhail]

Mik. Mik Mik Mik. What are you gonna do? The lady was asking him. And for a moment his mind switched modes. The Lady stood next to him, the tall heavy curtains pulled back just a few inches.

And Mik glimpsed the drama, the game, the fun. The show that was life. You wanna watch or play? Fuck. And in a moment he decided. Yeah. He wasn't a huge fan of porn. Sure the girls were hot. But if it wasn't him gettin off, what was the point?

Her smile was....mysterious. He couldn't tell if she was laughing at him or proud.

Mik pulled another hit. "Tell me, Asha. Monsters is vague. What should I be afraid of?" Tobias was more direct. He looked at Rowan. Yeah. Bitch be crazy. He knew that.

But crazy ain't wrong.

And she flipped her shit. New folkses and all that.

He stood. The lady laughed at him and he flipped her off. She'd laugh at the end. She always would. It was her game. But he wasn't her toy. Not right now. "I like special people. Maybe I'll find 'em."

[Valeriya]

Paused outside, peering upon the building, her wild heart beat ecstatic. The slopes and curves curled like tentacles beckoning her inside. The interior was just as ornate. Colors exploded in her sights and just like bearing witness to some spectacle, hers were flared wide as they could go. Smells drifted with such succulent temptation, her mouth immediately burst with water. Hunger roiled the pits of her guts. The Above was brimming with so much food, she couldn’t fathom how so much existed.

She was immediately drawn to the nearest table. A pair of people looked up at her expectantly, but Valeriya was bowed low, studying the savory bites decorating their plates. Only with Armande beckoned her away did she finally withdraw. The word restaurant was tested upon the tongue. Apparently there were behaviors expected here that were explained as she was told where to sit.

Vale immediately shook her head no and sat where she liked instead. The table she chose was positioned within a curved wall that bowed outward. Windows shared views of gardens not unlike that where Armande took her when she first emerged Above. She wanted to pick some delicate flowers and smear their silky petals on her cheeks. Soft as fur, their aroma curling in her nose was something she’d never forget the rest of her days.

She smiled warmly at her great love. “I love it,” she said.

She pointed at pictures of things she wanted to try, but even so much as selecting a single drink was next to impossible. She wanted them all. Finally, she opted for something of a deep red color that sat on her tongue like velvet flowers.

There was one thing that absolutely nobody could possibly ignore. Her lids slid low and Valeriya drifted momentarily. It was almost overwhelming since her ears couldn't tease apart the sounds. It was a chaos of noise, but Vale absolutely adored the music. When she could take it no longer, she was pulled to her feet and placed herself before the performers. Her arms waved like water. Her body moved with the beat. She turned and twisted low upon bent knees only to unfurl herself toward the heavens that this place must surely be blessed by.