Reality Bites
March 4, 2020
I’ve been pretty quiet lately. I spend almost no time on social media anymore, and even less time on the various writing projects I’ve got sitting in the fire, of which there are four.
I suppose the reason I write weird fiction is because reality is tough and doesn’t really give a toss.
So, this all goes back around ten years or so. We all began to notice that Dad wasn’t quite right. He put his beloved, well-used golf clubs in the shed and began sitting in the dark. He was even more irritable than normal. He was neglecting his household chores–something he was always quite anal about. He’d have a thought and open his mouth to say something, and then the thought would drop out of his head and be gone as quickly as it came.
And then mom got sick, low blood sugar, and was hospitalized. That’s when things truly hit home. Mom sent dad to the house to get his insulin so he’d have it there when he needed it, along with a change of clothes. Home is about five miles from the hospital, with only one turn the entire way. What should have taken twenty minutes at most ended up taking five hours.
Dad had vanished.
We were all pacing about mom’s hospital room when the call from the police came in. Dad had been in an accident south of Lima, Ohio. His truck was totaled–fortunately, nobody had been hurt, except for a cistern and a church sign.
Lima, Ohio is about a hundred miles from their house. Dad had gotten lost, and just kept driving in the dark until he wrecked his truck in somebody’s backyard. The next day, I went to Lima to pick dad up from the emergency room. I remember seeing the long line of little rooms all lit up in a long curve of sterile lighting, except for one room plunked in the middle, which was dark and lonely like an island of gloom. That’s where my Dad was. He was sitting there in the dark, deactivated, like R2D2. He was fine except for a few cuts on his face. When I asked him if he knew where he was, he had no idea.
Dementia had come over him fast and hard. As I drove him back home, he peed on my seats.
And then, a few months later, my older sister died. It was a blood clot.
Sudden Death. She basically dropped dead. I think it was for the best. I think she was on the verge of a long slow decline in health. I wouldn’t have wanted to see that.
As we readied to go to my sister’s funeral, Dad sat there on the bed holding his tie. He said he didn’t know how to put in on, so I did for him what he once did for me when I was a kid. I put my arms around his neck and did his tie for him, situating it under his collar. At that moment, it was like all his power and authority passed from him into me, and I didn’t want it, truly I didn’t. Suddenly I had to be the authority, the man of the house. I had to be the strong one, to manage my mother’s wracking grief, as well as my own. I had to make the decisions.
I had to lead the family.
So, that’s where I’ve been lately, learning to live without my father and my sister. Things are ok. Sometimes Dad comes downstairs without his pants. Some times he’ll eat weird things (like a handful of 22 caliber bullets the other day), and everywhere he goes he leaves a trail of flooded toilets in his wake. We just laugh and try to get on as well as we can. The worst thing is when he asks if my sisters is dead–that’s the hardest thing. It’s always hard.
But, time does in fact march on. Things are getting better. Mom fully recovered and is doing well. I’ve actually started writing again. It’s crap–it’s all crap, but it’s a start. It’ll get better.
It always does.
It always does.
StG: The Tempus Findal
July 25, 2014
There are many legendary creatures walking the fringe of rational thought, spoken of in whispers and discussed in the yellowed pages of ancient books.
The Tempus Findal, by Fantasio
In the old Vith, Tempus Findal loosely translates as: The One and Only. Most League knowledge of these shadowy and somewhat tragic beings comes from a single person named Mary of Falconer who wrote extensively of them. Mary’s mother, a talented and beautiful woman of the shield known as Samartine of the Falcon, suddenly grew sick and languished. None of the various Hospitalers and learned sages brought in to assist her could do anything correct her failing condition. At some point in the process, Mary received an odd letter in the Posts. The letter was written by someone calling itself the “TF” or “Tempus Findal”. It went on to say that it was an insane supernatural beast of great power, that it had killed many people throughout its existence, and that it was masquerading as a trusted member of her mother’s vast court. It also wrote that it enjoyed select moments of conscience in between bouts of murderous madness, and that was why it had written to her. It claimed it was feeding upon her mother’s energy, and, if it wasn’t stopped, it would destroy her. As a final word, it advised her to arm herself by venturing out to Lake Venera, a lake in a volcano caldera located on the Xaphan world of Midas.
Mary diligently performed research and determined her mother was in fact being consumed by an Extra-Planar entity known as the Tempus Findal. Unable to uncover or thwart this creature alone, she hired a team of mercenaries known as the Sons of the Ram (The “Ramsons”), and together they vanquished it and saved her mother.
THE TEMPUS FINDAL:
The Tempus Findal (TF) is a lonely and contradictory being. It is, at times, relentless, remorseless, utterly insane, incredibly strong, and able to generate an all-encompassing Wall of Fear that cannot be withstood. It is, for all practical purposes, immortal and it may cross the Planes of Reality at will, all the usual controls and defenses in the Hall of Mirrors meant to prevent such crossings are ineffective against it. Once it has locked onto its prey, it will allow nothing to stop it. It will lie, cheat, steal, impersonate and murder to get what it’s after.
Admiral Pax of the Stellar Fleet was replaced by a Tempus Findal for a period of time (Eve Ventrue)
But, sooner or later, it always “wakes up” and falls back into madness.
Depending on their mental state, they can appear either intensely beautiful, or singularly ugly.
THE FINDALMARCH:
The origins of the TF are tragic. These creatures begin life as an ordinary, mortal person. The Hospitaler Equation of Opposites states that, for every living being, a predictable number of alternate versions of that being exist across the Planes of Reality. This is also true for the TF however, an Extra-Planar event known as the Findalmarch happens at some point in its life that kills off all alternate instances of this person with the exception of one: one lone survivor. That lone survivor becomes a Tempus Findal, and their existence as an Extra-Planar creature and celestial vagabond begins.
THE KAIDAR GEMAIN:
The lone goal and mission of the Tempus Findal is to locate its opposite and feed upon its energy. A Kaidar Gemain (KG) exists everywhere, in every universe, and it is the energy of these rare, favored souls it seeks to devour. They can detect these individuals across the Planes, even across the seas of time anticipating their coming. Once they discover a KG, they will relentlessly pursue them. It is a “soft” pursuit. It can last years or even decades as they work their way into the KG’s life. They often become a trusted friend or confidant, sometimes they become a lover or a spouse. Like a cuckoo bird invading the nest of an unwitting host, they will kill and replace people as needed to get to the KG. And then they undetectably feed, taking the KG’s energy bit by bit, until they sicken and die. The process can take years. After it has fed long enough, the KG will “sour” and either die or, in worse cases, lose their status as a KG, becoming a Kaidar Gogol, The One who is Almost Everywhere, a raving, pathetic shell of what they once were. When that happens, the TF loses interest, turns its back and moves onto the next KG. During that transitional time, TF goes dormant, it “falls asleep” and forgets itself until it locks onto another KG. It can acquire a new name, develop an occupation, live like a mortal person. It is “happy” during this time, but it never lasts. Its hunger will invariably take it again.
The Findalmarch, the site where the Tempus Findal was created, can kill it (Carol Phillips)
Mary of Falconer detailed a number of ways that she and the Ramsons combatted the TF. Although TF’s are immortal, they can still be killed. The site of their Findalmarch, or items taken from that site, can kill them, thus discovering their Findalmarch site is key in combatting a TF. In Mary’s case, the waters of Lake Venera were like poison to it.
Sometimes the TF itself will willingly help bring about its own defeat. The TF is a tragic creature as it can go through periods where it feels great remorse for the suffering it has caused. They have been known, either consciously or unconsciously, to create charms and other trinkets that will allow a wearer to withstand their terrible Wall of Fear. They also brew a potion that, when smelled or swallowed by the TF, will restore their sanity for a short period of time.
Additionally, TF’s can be killed by other TF’s. They are extremely territorial, claiming whatever Plane of Reality they are inhabiting for their own. When two or more TF’s enter the same Plane of Reality, they will detect each other and fight to the death.
copyright 2014, Ren Garcia, Carol Phillips and Fantasio
The Temple of the Exploding Head 