Editing Red Sword Calls-FB Posts (section)

===5242-Desri in Nu Yark with Zicatalas of Azcala===
Looking out the window over the city of Nu Yark, she chuckled softly at how strange this vasty lands were compared to the magical realm of her birth and her struggles. Its towers, its magics, its technology. What required all her powers to manage in the healing of her own body on her home world, was done in clinics on nearly ever block in this mighty world. What they could do in their cutting edge hospitals was beyond her belief and only cost money she could gather with ease in this brutal world.

She thought of her sister, Lady, and the other Nine the Dominator took. The flawed creatures Lady had taken. Mighty they all were. Yet none of them had ever sipped champagne looking out on a scene like this.

A couple thousand feet below, at street level, the masses of people went about their business unaware of the realms around them. She could only look out the window and let her mind boggle.

Pouring thirteen ounces of tequila she walked to sit in the chas-lounge on her balcony.

Bringing the bottle with her because she knew her guest would be thirsty too.

Her silky negligee clung loosely to her frame as she settled beside the bronzed god of war. His scent lay heavy on her body. Sweat and other scents, her nose could lightly detect.

“Gold wing for your thoughts?” Handing him the bottle.

“My thoughts? Desri, I am afraid all good things must come to an end. Gold wing or not, my thoughts turn to my father and war. “

“Ya, I figured they would, but I don’t understand why? The devil knows I’m no fan of Amber but I don’t see the percentage in attacking it. Its not like you can destroy it. “

He turns on the lounge, picking up the bottle and chugging off a draft.

“My father thinks there is a percentage. He thinks destroying Amber means supplanting it. He thinks the balance that Random has created between Amber, Avalon and Mandalay is going to rend his realm of its powers. He is almost certainly right.” Taking another chug he drops his head to the bottle’s rim.

Reaching over to grab the bottle and his hand, Desri says, “I can’t follow you. I'm no pawn of Random and I'm new to having family but I don't share your father's beliefs. I don’t want to fight you.”

He nods, gently pulling the bottle from her hands, drinking, and passing it back to her. Standing he pulls her into his embrace, she comes into it eagerly, again.

Gripping her left teat gently, he drives the knife hard into her chest, cutting left and right to pull the heart from her bleeding chest.

His hand pulls from her chest a rubber facsimile of a heart, marked "Property of Lebek High School"

She looks to him, frowning, in pain, with a scowl of betrayal, “Ah, Zictalas, did you think I kept my heart there after I learned who you were? Go…Leave this realm now. When I see you next, you had best be armed.”

Stepping back, nodding in regret hearing his true name from her lips, dropping the toy heart to the ground, “I must have the real one. Many of the real ones, dear. In time”

Turning he steps into shadow.

Picking up the bottle, drinking deeply before pouring the fiery liquid on her open wounded chest, she says aloud, “Your place or mine, lover”

[[File:Desri1.jpg]]  [[File:16 Zictalas.jpg]]