Tuesday, February 12, 2013


The next few nights passed uneventfully...as uneventfully as they can at 'The Revels.' Annie went on a field trip up to Hadrian's Wall to commune with the spirits of Roman legionaries minced into tiny pieces by belligerent Picts and Scots during the later days of the Occupation... Just perfect for a carne-humano version of Salsa Bolognese , or something like that.... Larry accompanied her. But while the other night-folk held a dark-time pow-wow with a whole mess of Marcos, Luccas and Claudios <the Romanesque 'us' ending existing primarily in the written version>, she and the little vampirino played bocce ball with the ghost of a fat cook named Tinto. He let them taste a cask of old grappa, sealed shut since Marcus-Aurelias.  Do I still have to tell you they can tolerate alcohol? So they were quite drunk by the time they left. 

A Persian vampire graciously provided the group with some of the best carpets in his stable. So they flew back to the castle lying prone upon the fine, wool surface of centuries old, hand knotted Bahkras & Tabriz'. A symphony of jewel-like stars watched from afar, as they sliced through the British night.

Most imagine such transepts to be precarious and frightful. Yet that is not the case. The plush, warm surface feels firm and secure. And small, but strong invisible hands grab hold to keep you safe. Larry sang songs learned from nights spent with Rip Van Winkle and the dwarfs, so many years ago. They shared the rug with a mortal financier from Caracas and a vampire chanteuse from Helsinki. 

The six carpets flew in formation and arrived 'home' in approximately twenty minutes. I believe they ducked into an easily accessible alternate universe to save time. The Persian knew many things.

Sarah spent these nights nursing Tomas. True, due to his vampiric nativity at the hands of 'Papa,' he did heal quickly. But she enjoyed the opportunity for closeness and intimacy. And they did venture down each evening for an hour or two spent sipping toddies in the library. Must seem sociable after all. Tomas answered a few questions from his fans. A bit of the 'schoolyard' effect. They just wanted to know how he did it. Night-folk can be such hangers on. 

I believe Sir Richard's belongings were forwarded to his 'people' back in wherever it is they live. A few of the big business types know. He did favors for them. Goldie Hawn and some of the Hollywood attendees  sang show songs in the music room. Vampires love Phantom of The Opera. They didn't sing that, but nobody cared. 

Some of the cattle-people in the dungeons got loose, running through the place like a bunch of terrified, naked maniacs. Nobody was hungry anymore (the vampires anyway), so 'King' Rafe distributed dart guns and they all went hunting.  Best to aim for the ass. Big muscle there. Sedative works in fast. Most of the vampires understood. They got it right away. Some cruel types didn't care where the barb landed, so there was a lot of high pitched yelping too. I don't think any mortal guests shot at the cattle-people, though.

Baylah sat in with a group working to promote democracy and responsible government in Sub Saharan Africa. A different group tackled North Africa's problems. They planned a series of discrete killings, carried out by vampires embedded in the households of various potentates and warlords. She was from Timbuctu, you know (eighteenth century royal house) and thus fluent in Tuareg, Berber and other useful languages. Plus, the fact that she looked like Beyonce Knowles didn't hurt either.  The potentates in question couldn't help but notice....Like a 'Bond' girl she'd be.

So that's how things went around here. This ain't no disembodied spirit, just me, wilkravitz (or @wilkravitz for the TWITTER-MENSCHEN among us). 

Edith gave a class in rudimentary telepathy for the spouses of high-level, mortal attendees. A Romanian woman had some talent. Must a been part Rom or something. But most of the others just whispered, traded lipsticks (mostly the women) or passed notes. She missed The Pines. She missed the way it smelled in late winter/early spring, when the mud came alive and the creepy-crawlies started to wake up.

Some of the people, both vampire and plain, old, not-vampire, drove into London for the stores and maybe to see a show, or something like that. Think they had a quiet, little get together with a certain person from St. James, but don't hold me to it.

I'm getting good at telekinesis though. So far only up to the ping-pong ball stage. But, hey, I'm satisfied...

Adieu from 'THE REVELS,' for now...

thank you for your time. if you're willing, please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. simply tweet (on Twitter) this ~> I nominate @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD in #BLOGGER because of his entertaining narratives..... and visit on TWITTER too.

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