From: li@Data-IO.COM (Phyllis Rostykus)
Subject: Lily White: Interlude - "Come As You Are"
Organization: Data I/O Corporation
Date: Mon, 14 Sep 1992 18:59:07 GMT



                Darkness.

                the sound of rain on the roof... 
                        the low drumming of 
                        the tears of the gods,
                        giving the World 

        Life.

                                no wonder Life is such a Pain.

                                        - Saraquael


	A soft giggle of a girl well pleased with her new toy, her new boy,
or perhaps it's a new shade of lipstick?  And there is the girl seated in
the silver spotlight of the moon's eye peeking through her skylight.
Black haired, eyes mismatched light and dark, black lipped, with skin
bleached white by the darkness and the light.  Before her float half a
dozen shimmering pads of rainbow lights, at various heights, of various
sizes and thicknesses and shapes.  Rounds, hexes, squares, the triangular
ones and the bar ones stands on one point, slowly twirling through the air.

	The low thrumming of the rain is joined by a bass.  The bass plays
up and down two simple chords, monotony, simplicity, clarity....  The girl
raises a hand, and brings a stick down on a nearby pad.  No explosions of
light, no magical affects.  Only a three-beat on a drum, the tick of a
cymbal, and the drums give the same monotonous/simplistic/clear beat as the 
bass.  Her voice, when it enters, is low, monotone, and harsh with longing...

		"Come, 
			as you are
			as you were
		 as I want you to be."

	Eyes watch from the darkness.  Cats' eyes reflecting back the light
from the moon, or is that the light reflected from clouds over a city?  The
slow hiss of a passing car on wet pavement.  The low cry of someone in
another room....

                       "as a friend
                        as a friend
                                as I've known them to be."

        The girl is singing to someone, something.  And her mood is written
all over her face, the plea, gentle mockery and the warning.

                 "take your time
                        hurry up
                                choice is yours
                        don't be late"

        The door won't be open for long.

                 "take a rest
                        as a friend
                               as I've a memory, yeah"

        The beat bursts open with a riff from the bass, energy given in 
hopes of it being received.  The muscles on the girl's arms glow with a
sheen of sweat.  A pair of silver eyes the color of the moonlight shine
from the darkness.  There is a low gasp from another point within the
darkness.  It is from a male human.

                 "memory, yeah
                  memory, yeah
                  memory, yeah"

        The girl turns at the gasp to see the eyes.  She smiles, and her
voice and the music soften, cajoling...

                 "come
                        dust from muck
                        swept in bleach
                as I want you to be.."

        A cat steps from the shadows, a cat that even in the moonlight
shines the colors of fire.  A flame contained within the warm furriness of
a homey, comfortably chubby cat with eyes the color of the moon and a
collar the unfathomable color of fear.

               "as a trend
                as a friend
                as I've a memory, yeah
                          memory, yeah
                          memory, yeah

                memory, yeah..."

        Four more measures and the music dies peacefully on the same chords
it has two-stepped over for the entire song.  The girl giggles the same
pleased giggle and the cat looks up at her.  Saraquael slips off her
drummer's bench.  In a sinewy curve she crawls up to the cat and rolls onto
her back before the creature.  The cat blinks at the girl's antics, and
then carefully, comfortably, climbs up on the slender girl and lies on
Saraquael's stomach, eye to eye with the shaman.

	Silver claws gleam beneath velvet paws; Saraquael hisses
softly as they enter her skin.  The voice is as velvet soft as the fur, 
"What memory will you give me?"

	The mismatched eyes hold silver ones unflinching, and the claws 
work a little deeper, tensioning the slender girl beneath them.  Darkness
blooms on the light shirt the young shaman wears.  A sigh, nearly a moan,
and the claws withdraw.  That soft voice says, "Very good.  I will do as
you desire."

        "May... may I turn on a light?" Both creatures on the floor look up
in surprise at the uncertain male voice.  The voice seems to be fumbling
more with the language it uses than the situation.

        The cat blinks and a fire blooms within the fireplace in the wall.
The light reveals an austere but tasteful room that is Gabriel's within
the walls of the establishment that he founded two years ago.

        "Flash..."  Gabriel blinks in the sudden light, but his pleasure at
the small magic is obvious.

        Saraquael blinks up at the young Angel and laughs softly, not
unkindly, but he blushes anyway.  "Sit here," she says and pats the floor
by them, "and be quiet.  You're using up my wishes..."

	"No," says the velvet voice of the cat, "that comes free to the
Master of my house."

	Gabriel grins and gracefully folds himself into a lotus by them,
and quietly watches the hours of negotiations between Saraquael and the
Spirit of the Hearth of Sauron's Castle.

---------------
Copyright 1992 by Phyllis Rostykus
The idea for the conjuring was from Hubert Bartels.
Lyrics are the closest approximation I could figure out of Nirvana's "Come
As You Are" from the album _Nevermind_, and Sara did a little creative
interpretation as well.
Sauron's Castle and personnel used with full permission from Quarterhorse.
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo