One of the things that I do to help explore new writing ideas is to write scenes or parts of chapters set in the universes I create to get a sense of how things feel. Sometimes I’m happy enough with these that they make it into the final cut, other times they just inform the direction the setting or the story will take place. What follows is a chapter near the beginning of a new novel I’m writing that’s more working on character introductions than anything else. It was fun to write, and might make it into the first draft whenever I get around to writing it. But it’s a fun look both at how I might go about writing stories on a meta-level, and a look at some of the new ideas I’m playing with as the first draft of the last “Freedom and Control” book comes to an end (and it is!)
Lizzie looked up from the glass she was polishing as Curses descended into silence. All eyes turned to the open door. A tall woman in a simple, black dress stood in the doorway. Her eyes, so brown they looked nearly black, glistened with a degree of pleasure at the effect her entrance made on the place. A smile crept across her narrow face. She made sure to close the door slow behind her, making a point to flaunt her sleeve tattoo at the gathered beings. The silence in the bar made the clicking of her heeled boots all the louder as she approached the bar and took a seat. It was with the tattooed arm that the woman gestured to get Lizzie’s attention. Lizzie swallowed when she got a good look at it: a flaming sword set across a background of skulls and serpents, with “Who is Like God?” written across the blade. She put down the polished glass, straightened her apron, and approached the new guest.
“How was your weekend, Shelly?” Tom shouted from behind her. “Stay busy?”
The woman, apparently Shelly, narrowed her eyes as Lizzie stepped back. She laid her bag on the bar and rummaged through it.
“You’d know, you serpent,” she whispered.
“I’m not a serpent, I’m a barfly!”
“So, buzz off.”
“I like my stool, Shelly.” He raised his glass. “And I’ve been teaching Lizzie to make better a Sazerac.
“My name’s ‘Michelle!’”
“You two know each other?” Lizzie asked.
“Intimately,” Tom said.
“Not very,” Michelle said. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve known you long at all.”
“Eternity’s a long time!”
“Who said anything about this being eternal?” Michelle huffed. “But, yes, my weekend was long, and even I need a drink from time to time.”
“What are you having?” Lizzie asked, stepping back between them.
Shelly turned to her.
“Twenty-ten Domaine du Vieux Telegraphe Chateauneuf-du-Pape ‘La Crau.’ The whole bottle, if you don’t mind.”
“Uh…” Lizzie turned back to the bottles of liquor behind her. “I… Um.”
“It’s a wine.”
“A damn good one at that,” Tom said. “What’s Al charging for a bottle like that?”
“A wine?” Lizzie looked back at Michelle. “Are you an angel?”
Michelle smirked.
“You’re cute.”
“But are you?”
“Of a kind.”
“I keep forgetting how new you are, Lizzie” Tom said.
“She is new, isn’t she?” Michelle stared intently at Lizzie. “Where’d Al find you?”
“Internet.”
“Really?”
“Well, I guess I found him.”
“That’s even more impressive. Boston, then?”
“…Yes. How did?”
“I’ve a knack for that kind of thing.”
“It helps having the power of Heaven behind you, doesn’t it, Shelly?”
“Michelle!”
“Ah, I keep forgetting that. You gotta start using different names.”
“You two act like you know each other,” Lizzie said.
“You do act like you’re new at bartending,” Michelle said. “A little nosy, aren’t you?”
“Ah, cut her some slack!” Tom chuckled. “She’s asking all the questions the new ones usually ask.”
“It’s that damnable curiosity.” Michelle huffed. “Makes my work so difficult.”
“It’s funny you should mentioned damnable,” Tom said.
“Can angels swear?” Lizzie asked.
“Grow up,” Michelle said. “We can do far worse things than that.”
Lizzie pointed to the sign behind her. Michelle grumbled.
“I’m not starting any wars tonight. You can relax.”
“She really can’t. She’s working.”
“It’s not like it’s all that difficult.”
“You’re here instead of getting wine for yourself. Be nicer to her.”
“Fine, fine. You can explain it all to her, then. Shed some light on the whole thing. I’m getting tired of it.”
Tom rose from his stool with a wide smile and walked around the bar, waving his hands at the other guests to get them to look away. As the bar chatter steadily resumed, he moved to wrap his arm around Michelle’s shoulders. She raised a manicured finger in his face. Tom retreated from her with a dramatic a bow.
“There’s a lot of angels, Lizzie,” he said. “Seraphim, Nephilim, and the like. They all do like their wine, but none are quite so particular as this lot. They’re a rare breed, a little testy, and powerful nearly beyond compare. They’ve also got a knack for symbolism, hence her choice in wine. Isn’t that right? Hm? Michael?”
Michelle went red.
“Michelle!”
“Michael?” Lizzie’s brain whirred. She stammered out as some small piece of her Catholic high school education came back to her. “Wait, as in the…”
“Archangel, yes,” Michelle said. She rose from her stool and walked towards Tom, slowly forcing him in a corner. Tom kept his eyes fixed on her tattoo. Lizzie noticed the flames around the sword moving, threatening to come alive. “But it’s not ‘Michael’ anymore. Is it? Tommy?”
“I guess not,” Tom said in a meek voice.
“But why?” Lizzie asked.
“Why?” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Would you want to stick in the same corporeal form for thousands of years? That gets tiring enough. Another matter, but it’s not as though I’d have the same effect walking in here dressed in a suit of armor as I do like this, right?”
“It’d have some effect, Shelly” Tom said.
Michelle sighed.
“We have to change with the times.” She mimed punching Tom with her tattooed arm, then turned and straightened her dress. “You’ve changed a lot. Right, Tommy?”
Her gaze directed Lizzie’s to Tom’s rapidly souring face.
“What are you again?” Lizzie asked.
“Yes, Tom, dear, what are you?” Michelle took a seat, crossed her arms, and leaned back. “I always love the answer you give.”
Tom frowned, downed his drink, and handed the glass back to Lizzie.
“I’m almost human.”
“Sure you are.” She gave him a little wave of her fingers to dismiss him, then looked back at Lizzie. “Anyway, my wine?”
“Ah, right.”
“I assume since Al isn’t around he handed you the keys to the safe?”
“He did. What am I looking for?”
“It’s got engravings in the glass,” Tom said, moving back to his spot at the bar. “Crossed keys and a little pope hat.”
“Keys, hat. Got it.”
“Make sure it’s the twenty-ten,” Michelle called after her. “Believe me, I’ll know.”
“She will,” Tom said.
“Keys, hat. Keys, hat. Twenty-ten. Keys.”
Lizzie ran her fingers through the keychain Al had left until she came to the golden winged key. She fitted it into the lock, felt it turn, then pulled the metal gate back out from the small wooden rack in the hall. Her fingers traced over bottle after bottle until they ran across one with raised ridges set in the cool glass itself. She snatched it and pulled it out. There, above an ornate label with “2010” clearly visible, were a set of crossed keys and something that could be described as a hat. Lizzie tucked the bottle under her arm, re-locked the gate, and rushed back to the bar. Tom snatched her arm before she got back to Michelle.
“You ever do wine service before?” he whispered.
“What? I’ve given people wine.”
“That’s different than service. She’s going to be picky about that, too.”
“Why?”
“I’d tell you it’s a power thing, but I think that’s pretty clear. Let me see the bottle.” Tom looked it over. “Good. Alright, you’re going to present it to her like that, and tell her what it is. Use that wine key over there, cut the foil, and pull out the cork without ever letting the bottle touch the table. Then give her the cork, wait for her approval, and pour her a little taste. Like an ounce or less. She’ll judge it or whatever, and then give her the glass. Make sure the label’s facing her the whole time, and you’re fine. Got it?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s not so hard. Label, foil, cork, taste, pour. Keep it airborne. Keep smiling.”
“Hey now!”
“Alright, alright. Bad choice of words. Oh, and get the bigger of the two wine glasses there.”
“Alright.”
Lizzie exhaled, straightened, and grabbed a glass. She rested it in front of Michelle, who was now engrossed in her phone, then presented the Archangel her bottle. Michelle looked it over, nodded, and went back to texting. Lizzie fiddled with the foil cutter on her wine key, then got to work.
“So…” She said as the bottle turned in her arms. “You had a busy weekend?”
“I did.”
“What does an Archangel do that makes it so busy?”
Michelle put her phone on the bar. She smiled a courteous smile at Lizzie as she watched her stow the foil in her pocket and move to pull the cork.
“We fight.”
“Oh! Oh. Really? What do you fight?”
“Everything that’s trying to hurt you.”
“Is that a lot?”
“It’s nearly everything, and there’s people who seem to go out of their way to get hurt. I don’t understand it. But we fight for you, no matter what.”
“But I thought…” Lizzie looked back to the sign behind the bar. “Huh.”
“Curses is neutral ground, sure. But there’s always a war on out there. Humans are in the unfortunate position of being both the front-line soldiers and the civilians. Consider angels the artillery, if that makes it any easier.”
“And Archangels are nukes,” Tom called from behind Lizzie.
“We’re a little more discerning than that,” Michelle shouted back. “God hasn’t had to nuke anything in quite some time, but I could do it if needed.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is.”
“It sounds like you don’t like it.”
“That doesn’t really matter.” Michelle took up the cork, nodded, then tossed it into her bag. She waited for Lizzie to give her a taste pour, and lifted the glass. “God loves you, of course, so we fight for you.”
“Oh.” Lizzie waited until Michelle had finished swirling and tasting the wine. “Well, thank you?”
“Don’t mention it. I’m serious about that.” Michelle took a long sip. She sighed, smiled, and patted Lizzie’s arm. “But I am tired now, and I think I’d like some quiet.”
“Of course.” Lizzie set the bottle down on the table, and turned. She mouthed her feelings at Tom, who chuckled at waved them off.
“She’s always like this,” Tom whispered when Lizzie got close to him again. “Don’t let it get to you.”
“Alright. Jee…”
“I wouldn’t say that name around her,” Tom said.
“Point taken. You mentioned you want another round?”
“I do. I think those fairies by the door could use one, at that. Shelly nearly hit them with the door when she came in.”
“What were they having?” Lizzie asked, stepping back and getting her mixing glass ready for Tom’s third Sazerac of the night.
“Death in the Afternoons, I think.”
“Easy enough. Oh! Al.”
Tom turned with Lizzie’s exclamation. Al stood at the base of the stairs, gripping the railing and staring at Michelle. The Archangel smiled at him, and made to rise. Al raised his hand to stop her, then looked at Lizzie.
“What is she drinking?”
“Uh…”
“Chateauneuf du Pape, Al,” Tom said. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
“I just wanted to make sure. it’s on me, Lizzie.” Al stepped around the bar and approached Michelle. “How are things?”
“Busier than ever, haven’t you noticed? Another glass, Elizabeth, dear.” Michelle snapped her fingers. Lizzie dropped another glass for Al. The Archangel grabbed the bottle, poured out the wine, and clinked hers against Al’s when he raised his. “She’s new.”
“I needed some help. You’re right about it getting busier.”
Lizzie listened in as she measured out Tom’s cocktail.
“She’s still a little rough around the edges, you know.”
“Isn’t this whole place?”
“Fair point, fair point. Tom’s taken a liking to her, I see.”
“He’s good with advice.”
Michelle snorted, then drained her glass and refilled it.
“Well, I hope she lasts longer than the last one.”
“I think she will.” Al sipped his wine. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your rare company?”
Lizzie couldn’t hear a response at first over the clinking ice. Through a sideways glance, she noticed that it was because Michelle had looked back at her phone and was frowning in annoyance. Al’s glare forced her back to her task.
“Not too diluted now,” Tom said.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“It’s alright. Long as it gets in me somehow.”
His chuckle soothed Lizzie. Michelle’s stiff tone brought her stress roaring back.
“It’s getting harder out there, Alouicious. There’s more people than there used to be and less of them seem to care where they wind up.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“It’s not your fault. I think I just needed to say it out loud.” She straightened. “Anyway, the real reason I’m here is that I heard a few beings making threats against you. I thought you should know, in case something happens.”
“I’m always getting threats, Michelle.”
“I know, but these sound serious. Enough that I’m here, right?”
“I see your point.”
“Are you really safe here?”
“There are the laws in place for a reason.”
“Sure, I know. But if you do need any help.”
“That would violate the neutrality, and you know it.”
“I know I know it.”
“So why would you offer something like that?”
“It’s my job to fight, and I’m sorry if I can’t help myself if I hear there’s going to be a war.”
“There are no wars at Curses. Everyone respects that.”
“They do now. It’s a verbal agreement.”
“I think an Archangel should understand the power of word actions, right?”
Michelle giggled. Lizzie was struck, as the expressed a lemon peel over the top of Tom’s drink, by how tired the laugh sounded. She didn’t think Michelle got the chance to laugh often.
“Well, I just thought I’d offer.” Michelle looked at her empty glass, then at the bottle. She held it up to see how much was left. “Elizabeth, you can have the rest. I should try and make it back to Heaven in one piece.”
“Oh.” Lizzie put down the bottle of absinthe she’d been grabbing. “Well, thank you.”
“Sure. I hope you like it. Al. Tommy.”
“Um…” Lizzie waited as Michelle rose. “Hey, what’s it like?”
“What?”
“Heaven, I mean.”
“Oh. Well… I can’t say much about it because, you know… that’s supposed to be part of it.” Michelle rapped her fingernails on the bar. “Imagine the greatest party in the world that you go to but invite none of your friends along, except it’s so fun you’d never miss them. You’ll make new friends, of course. Soon, you’ll forget anything else existed. It’s just love and light forever, and ever.”
“May you be in Hell half an hour before God knows you’re dead!” Tom shouted, raising his drink.
“It’s usually the other way round there, Tommy.”
“Yeah, but the other side’s not so strict about it.”
“At least we’ve a guest list, not a crowd who couldn’t get in anywhere else.” Michelle steadied herself. “You should at least think about my offer, Al. Who knows how dangerous things could get with the crowds you run with?”
“I appreciate the warning, Michelle. Shall I walk you out?”
“Only if you can fly.”
“At least to the door.”
“Alright.”
Lizzie smiled at Michelle as Al led her to the door. She cleared the glasses, filled one under the bar with the rest of the wine, then tossed the bottle away. After wiping the counter, she finally got around to topping up the five flutes of absinthe with champagne, then brought them over to the table of fairies in the corner.
“Tom’s buying,” she said.
“Well, isn’t that a little spot of light?” one giggled. “Thank him for us.”
“I will.”
She walked back to the bar, washed the glasses, then snuck a sip of the wine before Al returned. When she righted, she caught Tom watching her over his drink. He chuckled at the look on her face, then pointed down at the glass under the bar.
“Is she gone?” Lizzie asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Because damn, this is good wine.”
“I imagine she thinks it’s your tip.”
“Wait, wha…” Lizzie looked at the empty spot at the bar where Michelle had sat. “Jesus Christ.”