Tattoo: The Books of Glory

a webserial about people who are not like us

Tattoo Book 6, part 2.4

Posted by harmony0stars on July 12, 2010

Glory spent the next few days alternating between working on protections for Dr Blackwood and researching her family tree. Having the stone from the museum at least put Glory’s mind at ease on that front. Whoever was collecting the pieces of the Seal… well so long as she had a fragment squirreled away in her vault, they weren‘t going to have much success in their plans . There was no way to trace its theft back to her and no way for an enemy to approach her house even if they did.

Whenever researching her family became too stressful, she switched back to working on the gloves and apron for Dr Blackwood. Research was usually her favorite pastime, but thinking about her family was too stressful. She felt compelled to look for any trace of them, but at the same time, she was reminded of her mother’s death and her sister’s hand in it with every new tidbit she uncovered. By the middle of the week, she had a handful of phone numbers, gleaned from the net, of people who might be family living in her parents’ hometown. She cringed at the thought of calling any of them.

According to old news archives on the web, her mother’s side of the family seemed to have been completely wiped out. In the space of a few months, they had died by violence, fire, and incredibly bizarre accidents. Some were lucky enough to die by disease, while others had vanished off the face of the earth. Her mother’s father had vanished out of his bed in the middle of the night, his wife lying next to him. A week later, she had disappeared as well. The police believed that she had killed him and then run off before they could find evidence to pin it on her… not that any further mention was ever made of her possible guilt. Neither had taken anything from the house when they left, and every friend and neighbor who was interviewed said they’d loved one another very much.

Her father’s family had fared only a little better. It surprised her that the police never seemed to suspect foul play beyond the few disappearances. The sheer number of deaths on both sides of her family tree made her suspect her father was somehow to blame if only because some of his kin were still alive. For as long as Glory could remember, their mother had remained almost pathologically silent about her past, which only made Glory certain she’d had some inkling of what was going on. Glory could only imagine what had happened in Centralia. The little she could dig up referred to a coal fire that had been burning for the past forty years and not much else. It was if the little town had been removed from history with nothing more than a footnote and a whisper.

Glory was much more comfortable working on Dr Blackwood’s protective gear. Where others might find it challenging, she found it comforting and familiar and a welcome distraction from thoughts of her mother and sister. She dyed one set of gloves black and bleached the other white, black to dispel negativity, white for purification. The thin sheet of lead she had among her supplies was soft and malleable and easy to cut into small ovals for the pads of the fingers. Glory embossed the symbols of the planets for each finger onto the metal before gluing them to the pads of the white gloves and reinforcing the glue with thread pertinent to each planet. Putting the first set of gloves on to make sure they‘d fit, she pulled the black ones over top and carefully pinned them to sew them together in strategic spots and make them easier to remove in one piece. She used white embroidery thread to sew additional protective symbols into outer glove.

After dyeing the apron black, she did the same there, sewing a protective medallion over the heart and other symbols into the borders. The final touch was mixing frankincense oil with water and spritzing both the gloves and apron. When she took them back to Miskatonic, she’d include the spray bottle. It would be best if the good librarian sprayed them at least once a month, more often if it set his mind at ease.

The cat was content to lounge about the house and eat the food it was offered. Edgar seemed more than willing to leave him alone now, and Glory suspected they’d been communicating in some way that she couldn’t detect. Perhaps that was why the little boy had chased the cat all over the house and made such a fuss… to get her attention. Whatever Stuart wanted her to believe, she was certain the cat had said something to him as well.

Either the cat was trying to make her think he wasn’t still after the black seal fragment, or having gotten his story out, he was now content to guard from a distance as he had at the museum. Whatever the reason, he strutted around the house as if he owned the place but made no special effort to hound Glory‘s every step… as if the dream he’d shared with Robert and Ann explained and justified his presence. She was careful to look around for him when she finally went back into her vault for supplies, but if he was nearby, he was indifferent to her movements.

As the end of the week neared, Glory began stocking the motor home with food and reinforcing the protections she’d created. Like the house, the border of every window and door was lined with delicately carved protective symbols. She tried to be careful of chipping the paint as that would make the symbol less perfect and possibly impair the intent of the sigils. Better to err on the side of caution than blow through the protections without thought. Considering there was no rush, she could afford to take her time and do it right. It was only as she finished that she realized that she’d already decided to go to Centralia and look up her relatives in person rather than attempt to contact them over the phone.

to Book 6, part 2, page 5


2 Responses to “Tattoo Book 6, part 2.4”

  1. Alderin said

    Good stuff, I like the magic crafting descriptions.

    “According to old new archives”
    “while others had vanish off”

    Thanks for everything!


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