3. Mojo & Me: The Life and Rantings of Cera Amalith

Mojo & Me: The Life and Rantings of Cera Amalith


  • ::Meanwhile back on parchments of scrap, the long flowing and graceful manuscript continues in the glowing pastel rainbow::

    It feels SO good to be awake on my own! Yet I miss my pet. I will have to keep looking for those missing pieces for her. As much as I like being on my own, a Power Pixie is nothing without a pet to protect. Sure I protect the Citizens but I need a pet that is all mine to keep safe. I have to share protecting the Citizens with others. Good thing too. They're always getting themselves right back into trouble after you just got done saving them. I wish they'ld let the day stay saved for litltle while sometimes before I haveto trush to save it all over again..


  • ((A little step back in time…))

    Maggots Eat Them Up, Yum…

    For those lucky enough to return from the Shroud of Death, it is never an easy path to anything that can be called normality. After falling into Death's shroud from the poison of an undead soul in a ruined City long ago Lost to the ages, now populated solely with those undead souls. Cera had lost something more. She spent the days after, holed up in Katya's tree under her blankets and bedding, muttering at herself for losing somany of Mojo's pieces, totally forgetting her duties around the Tree and around Camp.

    Poor Elera had her hands full between Katya lost muc of the time in her horrifying visions of what wast to come and Cera disturbed worryingly so more than usual. Jeni running around with visions of her own, on top of that, Elra was probably the lynch pin that kept that household from flying totally apart. Mojo bless her for it.

    Rarely and barely aware of anything beyond her blankets over her, Cera spent these days in and out of sleep, caught between self-destruvtive berratings she gave herself when awake and their own prophetic dreams of doom to come. The others did what they could for her. Once even Katya was able to rouse herself from her visions long eough to sit by Cera's side.

    Holding Cera's hand, Katya stroked back the greenish blue bangs from Cera's eyes. With Jeni's help she tipped Cera's head back to pour the same potion that temporarily held her visions in check down Cera's throat to give her temporary reprieve from her inner demons. Cera' sputtered and her bright greene yes snapped open to find Katya's kind, tired and sad face gazing down on her. There was something in her long time mentor and grandmother figure's eyes she didn't wish to see and refused to recognize. Katya was saying good bye. Baba squeezed Cera's hand again, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

    Jeni was told to go help Elera. When the litle girl was gone, Katya gave a grim smile back down to Cera, "Shh… there's something I must tell you. We've both know...and when the time comes I want you to run to that Wind or Fog of yours and hide. You'll be safe there. Then, when when you can I want you to come back and get Jeni and Jonni and take them far away from here where they'll be safe. This does not have to be their fate too...or yours. They'll be in hiding."

    Baba leanded over and whispered where to find the fissure they'll be hding in then placed a final kiss on Cera's forehead. Cera clutched at Baba and didn't want to let go, her green eyes already bleary with tears, but Baba could already feel the ffects of the potion keeping her visons away fading and she didn't wan to leave Cera with more of her terrifying babbling as her last impression.. Katya with tears in her own eyes squeezes Cera tight once ad held before she forced herself to peel away, patting Cera's hand, "You rest."

    Cera flopped over into quiet sobbing as Katya turned to leave the room, not letting up til sleep claimed her again. It wasn't much of a refuge with the same terrifyingly real dreams plauged her yet again. Those gnarling sharp dog teeth coming to rip away the flesh of countless bodies that she couldn't make out who they were. Over and over she witnessed the beasts devour the the seemingly endless supply of corpses.

    She awoke wit a terrified shriek! Those jaws in her dreams had turned to come for her. Only she awoke to find those jaws were quite real indeed. The most terrible gnolls she could remember stood over her bedding. The wards she and Katya had placed on the Tree to keep unwelcome guests out proved to be no match for the gnolls and their demon allies.

    Through another shriek she bracd for the killing blow that was about to land down her way. Except when it came there was no Cera there to receive it. In her terror a buried survival instinct had kicked in and she had shifted herself to the Ethereal Plane in a shimmering that grew around her a split second ahead of the blow. The gnoll's axe went right through her, which she saw when she glanced to see if she was still alive. Her eyes had closed so tight as to block out all light in that same instant of planewalking to the Ethereal or the Fog as she called it.

    The sight of an axe occupying the same space as her body and the gnolls overturning her blankets to see where she had gone was more than enough to send her screaming out through the far wall into the main room of the Tree. Lucky for her sight and sound from the Etherial did not carry over into the Material she had just fled.

    Unfortunately for her sound and sight did carry over from the Material to the Ethereal as far the ethereal mists allowed. The mists also added a dreamy quality to what she saw and heard next. Jeni and Jonni were nowhere to be seen but there in front of her where she had come out of the wall, the gnolls had Baba and Elera in their mits. She wanted to help them so badly but she just...couldn't. It wasn't in her, Mojo was missing too many pieces. It is good thing she didn''t do anything or she would shared the fate of she was about to witness.

    It was the same nightmares she had for weeks, but now she couldn't wake up and the bodies were all too recognizable and not quite corpses yet. The final mokments and screams of those she called Family burned into into her mind. The maggot covered gnolls were here. The maggots would never leave her again. If only there had been someone there to tear her away from the scene, but she was alone and frozen in place there in the Ethereal mists, just close enough to witness it all.

    A miracle she ever moved again,a tiny voice amidsts all that were always in her head gently nudged her on once it was all over,. The voice reminded her of Katya's last words to her, Jeni and Jonni still needed her.. One last duty for her Baba to do. She moved without a will of her own through the mists, fleeing from her lng time home of the Tree a small fragment of or so faling from the ceiling falling through her on her way out.

    It wasn't necessary but she still crept as quietly as possible through the carnage of the Camp once outside. She rcognnized all the bodies now, more revealed or hidden away as shemoved through the mists. Gnolls, always more gnolls and though it wasn't true it seemed to her that they ALL were crawling with maggots. No one else would have seen them but she did, real or not. The sight stole away all caution she had regained and she sprinted off to find the little girl and boy, running right through more than one gnoll.

    She did not leave the relative safety of the Fog until she found Jeni and Jonni hiding. In her confusion she had sprinted far and wide when she knew theyre hiding within earshot of the Tree itself. Unable to fit into the fissure herself she bid Mojo from his 'sleep' and sent him in to lead the chidlren to safety. Cera herself returned to the Ethereal, the same shimmering in the air claiming her away to it. From the Fog she followed them and her feline best friend to her own physical safety but had she truly escaped?


  • ::Gone is the blood writing and the jagged, unsteady manusciprt too has disappeared.. but neither has the child-like manner of old returned… a iti s the more familiar pastel rainbow glow of her writings in happie days yet, its' style has been replaced with a long flowing and graceful cursive::

    Cera is dead. Long live Pretty Magic Girl C.


  • ::on another scrap, the jagged and and unsteady scrawl picks up again in blood::

    tHe WeLl….It LiVeS....fEeL iT...fRoM....hErE....sO...lOuD...fInD tHe PiEcEs...FiNd ThE pIeCeS.....bUt ThErE's No RuNnInG...nOw....WeLl iS...eVeRyWhErE...eVeRyWhErE... fInD tHe PiEcEs....FiNd ThE pIeCeS...


  • ::The strain and fraying of late of what's left of a battered, smashed, bashed and whatever-else psyche finally shows through in the handwriting, its strays from its usual child-like manner and appearance to a shaky almost indeciiphorable scrawl, unsteady and jagged lettering: written in her own blood::

    ….fOuNd...A...fEw....Of MoJo'S pIecEs. So FeW... ClOvEr...GrOuNdEd.....No FaIr! HeR lIfE...sHe SaYs... ..dOeSn'T liStEn... NeEd MoRe PiEcEs... nEeD mOrE PiEcEs....NeEd MoRe PiEcEs.....nEeD mOrE PiEcEs.. NeEd MoRe PiEcEs... mOjO.... MoJO... nEeD mOrE pIeCes....


  • ::on the back of another scrap of parchment in some bloodied childliked writing::

    Piece, pieces…. more we have found. That is PRetty Magic Girl C found them for us Mojo. We have the Power Pixies to thank for that. Pretty C wouldn't have found any at all without Pretty Magic Boy B and Pet B.. I think thats the Gnome. Pretty C can be so confusing to talk to sometimes. But still the maggots are there, Mojo. even if we did find a couple pieces already. What's easier..looking everywhere we can amongs the borken mirror worlds or where the sleepwalkers lay in their city? Yes Mojo I hear youlaughing at me. Don't makme sick Mojo kittyon you. If could find whee you are staring at me from, Mojo you'ld be sorry. What? NO! THe sqirmies! WHy won't theyleave me alone. I Think I better go sit the your Stones, Mojo.. or let Pretty C go help Pretty B with that Shiny machine head she was takling about.


  • :on the back of a prevoiius scrap of parchment..agian in blood in the same old child-like manuscript::

    One piece found! One piece found! So many more still misssing. So many Teapots trying to helpTeapot Sy.. and Teapot MErin whos ays Mojo should call herself Queen of no that was your idea Mojo.. or was it? this Queenof Gypsies in Exile? Be strong they say? Mojo has found one piece.. but just doesn't see.. we're misssing too many pieces till. THe Voices tsill see in. and out, All the way through. The squirmies are everywehre..They'll eat Mojo sooner or later. Mojo doesn't want ot be eaten but sitl..we sih they'ld hurry up and get it over with. If ont fofr Auntie Khaya and other god Teapots maybe Mojo we would have fed ourselves to the beasties by now. They mean well. And we don't wanna be eaten…when the we can think.. usually only amongst the Stones... That's only good thing about this town..besides the Teapots.. Mojo the squirmies... the squirmies..they're...he-

    ::the rambling, bloody writtings smear off to the right in the middle the letter e::


  • ::I the handwritting of a child but in blood::

    We knoew it was him. THe Twin. Was Tero ::the handwriting gets kinda shakey in comparison to the rest at Tero:: Al my fault.. all of it.. if I hadn't lost MOjo's pieces.. We could have stoped him and squirmy infested doggie besties. OUr home is gone. Clover.. Mommy needs you. I need MOmmy.. Kind Lady. Kind Lady… Mojo! What have we done. This... this place is ot our home... Our piecs are gone and th VOIce laugh seing us at the Suiqrmies mercy.. the and bogeyman'. He found us.. Mojo we have to find our pieces... we have to.s


  • ::In a familliar child-like handwritting but ina dark crimosn that couldn't be mistaken for anything but dried blod, a few dried spatters also mar the parchment scrap::

    We are broken….I'm..broken. The Voices...they can see me.. Broken...Must fid Mojo's missing piecs so theyc an't see in.. Make then go away! Go away!T I hear them we do.. sitll muttering..whisepring...yelling..so noisy... but Iknow it's me they laughing at...takling about... I hear them we do..and they lok right in and see me. That's why talk..yeah that's why. Find..the missing pieces, Mojo so we can hide... hide....hide. GO AWAY!!

    ::The last few words kinda smudge and smear off to the side with a palm print left behind but..isn't totatlly unreadable because of it:


  • ::Shards from a broken mirror lay glued in a haphazard array to a scrap of parchment. Smears and a spattering dark red are dried on a couple jagged corners of a few shards and on the parchment itself::


  • ::one little line in the smae old, same old child-like manugscript with glowing pastel rainbow lettering::

    Little Clover is SUCH a teenager, Mojo, she just doesn't listen!!


  • ::the same old soft pastel, glowing rainbow in childlike manuscript::

    Our littel Clover…she's Home, Mojo! She went Home!


  • ::scrap of parchment, with the same old child-like handwriting in a soft rainbow of glowing pastels::

    Clover is growng so fast, Mojo.. It seems only yester day she was still a baby….and she is so more used to you then we ever were or are... Iknow she is the one who must go Home first... but.. I have never felt more alien to this plane.. SPending so much time abraod the the planes..the Wind.. It is a wonder we cn even call this place home anymore.. Home weknow is far far from here but where do we live until then? The Stones.. are key to going there so.. where we are is probably best... but.. oh Mojo....we just do not belong here. SOme Family.. frinds don't even loves us anymore....they know we do not belong... stil.. maybe how we helped wif Teapot Sam wil convconvince them to love us until its time for us to realy go? On the good side... teapot Sam does seem to be getting bettewr finally.. And one mkore thng.. it is not just our feeling of being alien.. Auntie Cotton feels a change in the air too.. how big? how broad? is iit for the ill? Maybe it's a sign Moj should just go Home anyway we can?


  • ::torn scrap of parchment…who woulda guessed.. ^.^::

    We dun like to admit it, Mojo…but oneses by oneses they turn agasinst us or turn their back on Mojo, Mojo. Oneses by oneses. Norwick...Family...Friends. I wish I was going Home with my little Clover, Mojo. But i know I cannot. I will go Home nne day. But not until she has. Mojo cannot let Clover listen to your Voices, Mojo, not for 40...50 years like I have. Only to have them do the same. Nope. Nope. We must not allow that. She must go Home now. Ijust wish I could go Home with her....but maybe they have not turned away from MOjo after all? Maybe.


  • ::on a fresh sheet of parchment, in the same, same pastel rainbow, child-like hand as every pasage on other scraps of parchment before it::

    She's not an old lady. She hasn' even ever swallowed a fly yet she will die. And now… I know why.. I know why now, Mojo. Our litle Clover..she was the one born to to go Home.. we will have to wait to join her.. or I will.. you..y ou are alwaysw ith both of us. But Mojo.. how can .. I be so sad? still? She' smy little Clover.. I don't want her to die.. But..she must go Home.. She is not meant to stay here.. She will be Home first.....that is why we had to make you silent in her head... so she could go home.. But the kind Lady saw..i was not time yet.that is whys he kept her from us.. it must be. But now..we must get our little Clover to Norwick..and soon..so she may go home.amidst the Standing Stones.


  • ::salvaged parchment::

    Aha! We found it! the right mixture of dust and water and heat to make the dust tea perfect! we did, Mojo! Hmm we gotsome old spider eyes to serve as o'deurves But they are kinda wanky by now.. mm better than nothing though. Tea party here we come!


  • ::salvaged parchment::

    Mojo, Mojo, Mojo….you know as well me his name is Cyric...not SpongeBob. Don't be silly.. SpongeBob lives in the big city north of Norwick. You know that.


  • ::Cera's child-like handwriting in the same glowing pastel rainbow as always makes up this passage on this slavaged scrap of parchment::

    Once upon a time, Mojo…. once a upon a time there was a little girl... once upon a time her name wasnot Mojo. Mojo.. whad di you do to me? My name is not Mojo but is Mojo.. Mojo. right back to getting the house ready..ready for the tea party.. I hope they get here soon.. though..even if we are not all ready..like rights now.. Cyric's peace sound so good..but it would not help our little Clover.. or would it? oh Auntie Berret... are you right? no trust Teapot Cyric? Teapot aers is right..do what we needs to be happy..but which is that?


  • ::yes…more salvaged scrapment de parchment::

    HaHa! That' all the invitations! well not all of them… maybe stil a few more to do as you remember them, Mojo. But we got them done! Now about that dust tea. I just do nots think its going to cut it. wW has tried warming it up even! with cantrips...with fire...it just tastes a warm icky instead of a cold icky.. Maybe we can see if we can finds any herbsses to flavor it... there are lots a spidersses around here you thinks we can gets them dry and all powdery in time for the tea party? I hope so! They just might give the dust tea that kick we been looking for! Hmm oh our little Clover.... Do not worry.. you momy misses you so. we do not think we will listen to ..him... well maybe he would let us bring our little Clover with us.. Auntie Berret oh yeah1 she said do not listen tohim.. not at alll.. but if Auntie Berret is one of your Voices MOjo..how come we can'ts reac her no more. She had to go and we can'ts hear quite as well It was outside our new house.. yes and it was even outside our ehad we heards her but that was just weird...and that other Voice.. I know those were you Mojo but why did you start speking on the outside too? It's hard enough telling what is you on the inside. Oh pineapples and Teapots... time to go Mojo! We dun want to miss our walk with Teapot Aers.


  • ::yet more dusty, salvaged parchment with glowy script in Cera's child-like handwriting::

    MOjo I can no decide how many invitations to make. I know let's just invite ALL the gali there okkay umm no.. SpongeBob can just stay home he thinks we are a little spy.. Stupid SpongeBob. You know. MOjo almost forgets what we were so confused about wea e so confused.. oh well we wo not want think about it ..We are hating him for it tha's why. HE is not invited to the Teaparty for sure.. I'ld rather have SpongeBob. Now.do you think we have enough tea? Enough tea for everybody? Sure we can make some we've got enough dust. OH yes Teapot Tirreth! He must of course come too.. and Keeper Teapto Myeil.. she can bring all the Keep Teapots.. yepyep. Alright.. mm so many invitations.. Silly Mojo .. here we thought we had made them all.. and there still billions and billions..to make.