WAR: Cousins T'Hy'la (01/01) Time: During the wee hours of Wednesday night/ Thursday morning 7/12/01 Place: CERK By Cousin Talon Disclaimer: All quotes come from the CERK archive which can be found at http://www.cs.virginia.edu/~acc2a/fk/cerkarch.html#ATA The term T'Hy'la is explained all too briefly at: http://www.ludwig.ucl.ac.uk/st/StarTrek/Vulcan/Vulcan1.dic Summary: Nicholas, in the body of LaCroix, listens to some tapes from old broadcasts of the Nightcrawler. ************************************************* The way things had been going it surely was inevitable. Nick had been in the bodies of both Natalie and Schanke. There was no denying the unique sensations of inhabiting human flesh once again - particularly those whom he held so dear. His dreams of being human were, in a way, made real if for a short time. Ah, time... But now, Nick held possession of the body of Lucien LaCroix. How to compare? Nick could hardly remember a time when LaCroix had not been a central figure in his life , for good or ill. LaCroix was his father, his companion, his friend, and at times his bitter enemy. LaCroix's blood was the beginning - Nick's essence of life. It was LaCroix's blood that set fire to Nick's very being, initiating the change that had both thrilled and haunted him for hundreds of years. And now to wear the flesh of the one who gave him life. . . It was beyond surreal. ****************************************************** Nick wandered the halls of CERK; which appeared empty except for the occasional pat of feline feet somewhere close. Was that chocolate he smelled? And paint? It was coming from the cousins living quarters, so Nick shrugged it off. Peculiar faction, he thought. Though he had been to LaCroix's lair before, never had he had such intimate freedom to explore. For a moment he thought of returning to his own home at the loft, memories of a recent puppy-pile fresh in his flashback-prone mind. Then he arrived at the archive. There before him were diligently arranged and labeled tapes. Each tape had a different date, but they all shared the same title: NightCrawler. **************************************************** The seat in the booth was plush. He settled in behind the microphone as if the entire setup fit him like a glove. Of course, it did. Nick smiled to himself. Inserting the first of the three tapes he felt drawn to, Nick pressed play and listened to the mellifluous words: <<"Good evening, Toronto. As all the night creatures come out of their dens, the Nightcrawler is on the air. And whose little ears are listening tonight? It's a school night, so how 'bout a little education? I am thy father's spirit, doomed for a certain term to walk the night. And in the porches of mine ear, did pour the leperous... What is this, gentle listeners? A visitor? (Nick's voice): Happy Father's Day. I'm not coming back to you. I just wanted to say thank you. Nightcrawler: They say if you love someone, let them go. If they're really yours, they will learn their lesson and return. You will come back, Nicholas. I can wait. I've all the time in the world. ">> *************************************************** Nick pondered these words, his own and LaCroix's. "I guess I did come back after all. ", whispered Nicholas in a voice that was half his-half LaCroix's. Nick tried the second tape: <<"Do you trust me? I want you to. I'm reaching out to you tonight. Do you trust anyone? Come and confide in me. Confess all. Unburden your conscience. Be rid of your sins. Call me now and entrust me with your secret selves. I have returned for your sake. Tell me what you won't tell your best friend, your lover, your children or your father. Let me be your friend. Share all of yourself. Because I'm the Nightcrawler and I love you all. However worthless you feel my friend. However bleak it all seems in the end you can come to me. You'll always have something that I value, part of you that I'll always welcome. Trust me. Because I am the Nightcrawler and I want all of you to love me. ">> "Do you? Do you want love?" whispered Nick. How often he himself had wanted love. There were the years with Jeannette; surely those were happy times. Nick thought of those he had known - and lost. His thoughts turned again to his mortal friends Natalie and Schanke. And again he thought about LaCroix. ******************************************************* The last tape that had caught his attention seemed different from the others. He again pressed play, and the room was filled with LaCroix's smooth baritone: <<"There's a price to be paid. Love may be tasted but never savored. In our darkest moments we may envy mortality, but we should never aspire to it. Guilt is a poison. And staying past our time is death. But it need not be. If we truly care for a mortal, if we love one, then we must go. Isn't that something you taught me? Leaving is the purest form of love. ">> "Tasted, but never savored", repeated Nick. "Perhaps the state I find myself in is just that: a taste. A bit of karma. A perspective on one who is so different, yet as close as my very blood." Nick was briefly startled to again hear his own voice from the tape, saying to LaCroix: <<"You are my closest friend">> "Indeed", whispered Nick, "like the back of my hand." *********************************************************** Maybe it was the classical yet cold surroundings of CERK. Maybe it was the influence of the Cousins. . . Nick leaned back in the black leather deejay's chair. Maybe it was all this switching. Or perhaps it was just the war. . . Nick rubbed his fingers across the finely sheared white/gold hairs on top of his head. Maybe it was gratitude, respect, understanding. Nick only knew this: he had never felt so close to LaCroix, not even at the time he was brought across. ******************************************************* Nick raised an exquisitely peaked eyebrow to a jaunty angle. "Perhaps you and I . . . . . are one." ******************* Nick glanced over at the red light on the console. Realizing this light had nothing to do with the tapedeck, he knew he himself was broadcasting. With charm and style befitting his lineage, Nicholas concluded the broadcast: "Good evening, Toronto. This has been the Nightcrawler. And whose little ears were listening tonight? Nevertheless, like most things, our show must come to an end. Fret not, my children, for you know that though family may hurt you, friends may betray you, and love is fleeting - there in one thing that is truly permanent: me."