Fashionably Forever After

by Robyn Peterman

  If not, I was fucked.

  Chapter Eight

  “I need information,” I said, doing my best not to kill the flock of purple parrots hovering around my head and dive-bombing in and out of the massive flowering trees. Didn’t think it was good form to incinerate my mother’s pets when I needed something from her.

  “Is that how you greet your mother?” Mother Nature demanded, slapping her hands on her hips and eyeing me with displeasure. “I mean you only come around to Nirvana every few centuries. I’d think some manners would be in order.

  “I’ve been here several times in the last few weeks,” I reminded her with a small shudder I hoped went unnoticed.

  “Yes, you have,” she said with a happy sigh. “And it’s been lovely.”

  I had a few other adjectives to describe my visits, but being older than dirt and having a keen sense of self-preservation, I decided to keep them to myself.

  Taking in my mother’s attire was painful. She’d clearly been pole dancing if the peach unitard and mile high, glittering gold stilettos were anything to go by. Her wild red hair was in some sort of bird’s nest atop her head and to make matters almost debilitating, she wore a gold sequined bra and thong over the shiny spandex unitard.

  “Is Bill here?” I asked, staring directly at her face. It was far too dangerous to look anywhere else. Laughing at my mother was never a good plan of action.

  “Your need to call your parents by their first names is disrespectful,” she said, snapping her fingers and producing a table for two laden with a feast that made my stomach cramp.

  “Yes, well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, moving away from the buffet before she could insist I try one of her concoctions. Food poisoning wasn’t on my agenda today.

  “Whatever,” she said, pouring what I would surmise was supposed to be tea into two delicate floral tea cups. “And yes, Bill is here, but he’s passed out at the moment. We’ve been working our way through the Kamasutra and I think I wore him out. Although with the last position we tried, he was standing on his head for an inordinately long time and I think all the blood settling there was a bit much for him. Although I must say, I enjoyed that particular position tremendously. I can loan you the book if you’d like.”

  Yet again my mother had rendered me mute and irreparably damaged.

  “You’ll love it,” she went on oblivious to my rabid discomfort. “I’ve dog eared a bunch of pages that we really enjoyed—very orgasmic. You should try those first. Truly stimulating.”

  “I’m the world’s greatest lover,” I said with an eye roll, thankful that I could still produce words after her alarming story. “I don’t need the Kamasutra.”

  “Everyone needs the Kamasutra,” she with a giggle and a little shimmy. “So to what do I owe your surprise visit?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw six of her parrots partake in the buffet and keel over dead. Taking my mother’s arm and leading her away so she didn’t see the deadly shitshow, I maneuvered her to a seating area of ancient tree stumps covered in moss and a rainbow array of blossoms.

  “I need your help,” I said tersely. I hated needing people, but drastic times called for unheard of measures.

  Her mouth dropped open to a wide O and she clasped her hands in delight. “That makes me so happy,” she squealed and wrapped her arms around my large frame.

  “Can we make a few ground rules?” I asked, gently peeling her off of me. I could only take so much.

  “Of course, darling,” she said as she seated herself on a log and literally bouncing with excitement.

  “No more sex talk,” I said.

  “Fine,” she agreed readily.

  “Could you change that outfit? It’s a bit difficult to look at you—you know, with you being my mother and all,” I trailed off somewhat lamely as Mother Nature began to spark with displeasure.

  “Beware of what you wish for, son. I might choose assless chaps and a boob tube,” she said with narrowed eyes. “I think I look beautiful in this ensemble.”

  “You’re always beautiful, mother,” I said with another eye roll.

  She was very aware that she was one of the loveliest people in existence. Of course, I was prettier, but adding that to the conversation wouldn’t make me popular. Considering she was about to electrocute me for insulting her stripper wear I kept my mouth shut.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. I am stunning,” she agreed. “And while I could talk about myself for years on end, I’m assuming that’s not why you’re here.”

  “Do you know of a place called Kismet?” I asked, getting right to the point.

  She paused and stared at me for so long I wondered if she’d become hard of hearing.

  “Are you certain that’s the name of the place?” she asked slowly.

  “No. I’m guessing. What do you know of it?”

  She stood and began to pace. With each step she took, flowers in riotous color burst from the ground replacing where her foot had been. She paced until the seating area looked like a floral shop on crack. I’d had enough when I realized blooming vines had basically tied me to the log I was sitting on.

  Why I’d thought coming to Mother Nature was a good idea was beyond me. But if anyone knew anything about Kismet it would be my mother. She was batshit crazy and Nirvana was far too happy a place for me to spend any length of time in, but she was my best bet at the moment.

  With a sharp wave of my flower incased hand, I incinerated the floral ropes binding me. “Either you know of it or you don’t,” I snapped impatiently. “From the pacing and the overactive garden explosion, I’d say you’ve heard of it. Tell me what you know or I’ll go elsewhere for my information.”

  “You’re being a little buttholey,” she pointed out.

  “Buttholey?” I asked, pressing the bridge of my nose and regretting coming here with every fiber of my being.

  “Yes. Buttholey. Or if you prefer… douchecanoey, jackholey or dickwady.”

  “Are you done?” I asked narrowing my eyes at her.

  “Or turdwaffley.”

  Letting my head fall to my hands I stared at the array of flowers beneath my feet. “I’m feeling stabby at the moment, Mother. Short of apologizing which I have no clue how to do, I would like to start over here.”

  “You just say sorry.”

  “I can’t. It gets stuck in my throat and I get hives,” I replied, peeking up at her with a grin.

  “You’re such a liar,” she said with a laugh.

  “Your point?” I asked, my grin growing wider.

  “I have a present for you,” she said. “Would you like it?”

  “Is it an answer to my question?”

  She shook her head. “We’ll get to that in a moment.”

  Clapping her hands, she conjured up a pile of notebooks. The exact notebooks I’d forgotten to steal from Sal and Maury. Unbelievable.

  “Where did you get those?” I asked, admiring them greedily.

  “Sal and Maury kind of gave them to me.”

  “You know Sal and Maury?” I asked, confused.

  “I had a meeting with them shortly after yours.”

  “For?” I asked, not like the potential direction of the conversation. However, I did like those notebooks.

  “To secure my place in your movie. They were bizarrely cooperative—very happy men,” she said. “Big gum chewers though. I found that a bit off putting, but I suppose that’s the Hollywood way.”

  “You’re starring in the film?” I asked in a tone so quiet her eye went wide.

  “You have an issue with that?” she shot back, starting to glow menacingly.

  Breathing in through my nose and blowing it out through my mouth, I decided to not tell her how I really felt. Not normal for me, but getting electrocuted right now just didn’t appeal. Hell, everyone who read it thought the damned thing was a comedy. My mother was going to fit right in.

  I made another mental note to myself. I should probably read the damn tome to see wh
at was so fucking funny about my life story.

  “It’s fine,” I lied through my teeth. “You’ll be wonderful in the bullfighting scenes.”

  “You enjoy bullfighting?” she asked, surprised.

  “Hemmingway edited the book. He was pissed. From what I understand, he added a bullfight to each chapter.”

  “Well, that’s certainly something,” she said with a laugh. “He’s a sneaky bastard, but he carries lovely Cuban cigars. Wait. Have you not read it?”

  “Why should I read it? I lived it,” I snapped, wanting to move away from the movie subject and get back to why I’d come.

  “Of course, darling. Anyhoo, after I asked for the lead role in the film, I pilfered the notebooks. I was shocked to think you’d have left without stealing them. I know how fond you are of office supplies.”

  “I am,” I agreed. “They are very nice notebooks.”

  “Very sturdy,” she added. “And the pages even have lines on them.”

  “I like lines,” I said, hoping they were all for me. No matter. If she tried to keep one, I’d just steal it.

  “I know you’re trying to say thank you,” she said with a smirk that I wanted to remove from her face.

  “I am not.”

  “You are.”

  “I. Am. Not,” I replied, appalled by her horrible accusation. “Thank you is a term used by those with manners. I have no manners. Therefore, no thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, ignoring my rudeness and plopping the notebooks in my lap.

  “What’s the ruckus out here?” my father called out, entering the garden completely naked.

  “For the love of everything despicable and evil,” I shouted. “Put some goddamned clothes on.”

  “Don’t take your brother’s name in vain, Lucifer. It’s rude. And when you show up without calling first there is always an excellent chance your father will be naked,” my mother informed me.

  With a wiggle of his nose, Bill dressed himself, chuckling the entire time. There was a very fine reason I rarely came to my mother’s corner of the Universe. My father’s dick swinging in the wind was an outstanding example.

  “It’s good to see you, son,” Bill said, still grinning like a fool. “Is there something we can help you with?”

  “Besides scarring me for life?” I inquired.

  “That’s my job as your father,” he said with a laugh as he hugged me.

  My appalling need to hug the small man back irked me to no end. Bill was a Sprite—very rare and unfortunately squishy. His adorable factor was world famous—at least in the Immortal world. My pain in the ass daughters, The Seven Deadly Sins, had sent him into traction with their adoration multiple times over the centuries. While he was a good sport about it, he had to want to deck their asses occasionally. Hell knows, I certainly did.

  “Stop that now,” I hissed, sitting on my hands so I didn’t embrace the tiny bastard.

  With a delighted laugh and one more irresistible squeeze, he backed off. “Those are nice notebooks.”

  “They’re mine. My mother stole them for me,” I replied and then sighed dramatically. I sounded like a five year old. My parents brought out the worst in me—and not in a good way.

  “Good thinking, Gaia,” Bill congratulated my preening mother. “The boy has a thing for paper products.”

  “And staplers,” my mother added.

  “Enough,” I growled, barely stopping myself from adding pens, protractors, scissors and hole punches to the growing list. “I came for information on Kismet.”

  “What about Kismet?” my father asked, alarmed.

  “Where is it? What is it?” I demanded.

  The glance exchanged between my parents didn’t bode well. Very little unnerved them. As True Immortals, they were as difficult to kill as I was.

  Taking a seat next to Mother Nature, my father pursed his lips in thought. “I’ve never actually seen the place. It’s impossible to find.”

  “Neither have I,” Mother Nature said, taking Bill’s hand into hers. “It’s buried in a time warp—or rather, a wrinkle. Legend has it that it’s where the Sirens were created.”

  I didn’t like the wrinkle part—at all. They were virtually undetectable.

  “It’s said to be made of crystal and ice—breathtakingly beautiful. But as the story goes, anyone that has ever found Kismet has never come back to tell about it.”

  “So it has been found?” I pressed, ignoring the rest of what I’d been told.

  “Yes,” Mother Nature said slowly watching me with concern. “Why do you want to go there?”

  “I had a little run in with Fate. She wants Elle’s soul and when I told her I didn’t have it, she disappeared and let her Trolls loose on me.”

  “How fucking rude,” Mother Nature hissed. “No one can sic Trolls on my boy and live to brag about it.”

  “The Trolls are dead. I had Astrid, Tiara and some others with me. We won. They lost. However, I kept one alive and was only able to get one word out of the giant son of a bitch when I asked him where Fate had gone.”

  “And the word was Kismet,” my father finished for me.

  “It was. I’m thinking that might be where Elle and her mother have gone as well.”

  My mother nodded and then shrugged. “If that’s where they are, you will have a difficult time finding them. You think Fate will kill them?”

  “She can’t,” I replied tersely. “At least I don’t think she can. If the legend is true about there being three fates, she needs them alive. Although my definition of alive and hers most likely differ.”

  Running his small hands through his hair and making it stand on end, Bill pressed his lips together into a grim line. “Some of the whispers I’ve heard over the centuries are that the Sirens never truly died off. They’ve been frozen for eternity in an enchantment.”

  “It stands to reason that may be how Fate has harnessed the power since the beginning of time,” Mother Nature added.

  “That is utter bullshit. How do I not know of this?” I snarled. “How has she gotten away with it?”

  “Sirens were not the most popular of species,” my father pointed out carefully. “Their claim to fame was sucking the life from their victims. I’d think most who’d caught wind of the annihilation—if that’s even what happened—might have stayed silent.”

  “That’s despicable,” I said, growing more furious. “It’s wrong. I don’t like it at all.”

  Both my parents stared at me in shock with their mouths agape.

  With a roll of my eyes, that should have garnered me an Academy Award, I then glared at my parents. “If you repeat or share any of what I’m about to say, I will deny it and make your lives such a living Hell you will regret your immortality,” I warned.

  “Oh my goodness, what a relief,” Mother Nature said with her hand on her heart. “For a minute there, I was certain aliens had taken over your body and you had grown a conscience.”

  Ignoring her bizarre outburst, I went on. “As you’ve repeatedly told me, Mother… I don’t create evil. I punish it. While I heartily enjoy and endorse random acts of theft, envy, deception, gluttony, sexual promiscuity, greed, lust, sloth, adultery, pride, coveting, embezzlement, wrath and a good bloody knife fight—true evil is abhorrent to me. This fact is not good for my reputation so I’d prefer it stay here in a cone of fucking silence. Am I clear?”

  “You see Bill, our boy is fine,” Mother Nature said and then eyed me thoughtfully. “Although I do believe this is all about Elle.”

  “It is. Was… still is,” I said, frustrated. “She’s mine and she’s been wronged for thousands of years. That doesn’t sit well with me. However, I also don’t like what’s been done to the Sirens.”

  “Possibly been done,” Bill reminded me.

  “How bad would it be if I killed Fate?” I questioned.

  “Bad,” my mother said. “Very bad. As bad as if she were to kill the other two fates.”

  “Fine,” I snapp
ed. “It shall be difficult, but I’ll leave the bitch alive—on my terms.”

  “That’s if you can find them,” my mother said.

  “I’ll find them,” I assured her.

  Worrying her hands and staring off into the distance, she sighed. “Do you know of l’appel du vide?”

  “I know it means the call of the void,” I replied, wondering what the Hell my mother was babbling about now.

  “It’s what happens to immortals when they enter Kismet,” she explained. “You have destructive thoughts of self-harm… but the magic of Kismet urges you to act on them.”

  “Ridiculous,” I said with a laugh. “I like myself far too much to destroy myself.”

  “True Immortals should be fine—I think,” Bill said. “And the other species that can supposedly withstand the enchantment are the Fairies.”

  “Fucking fantastic,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t like Fairies and they don’t like me. I’ve been banned from their homeland, Zanthia, for millions of years. Which is complete bullshit considering I let them come to Hell.”

  “Just telling you what I’ve heard. Are you on good terms with any Fairies?” my father asked with a raised brow.

  “A few,” I admitted begrudgingly. Everything I’d learned today was bad and kept getting worse. I suppose I was going to have to owe a few Fairies now.

  “I’d suggest you go make nice with them. They might even know how to get to Kismet,” my mother said.

  I was going to have to go to Earth tomorrow and cut several deals with Fairies.

  Fuck.

  Another day in the life of the Devil. The never ending pile of shit was growing higher. Whatever. I’d make nice with the Fairies if that’s what I had to do. A favor from Satan was an extraordinarily valuable commodity that very few could pass up.

  “Well, I have to run. I’d say thank you, but hives aren’t a good look for me,” I said with a small smirk.

  “You’re welcome,” my mother replied with a laugh. “Lucifer? You will be careful.”

  Nodding, I stood to take my leave. Tucking all of the notebooks under one arm, I raised my other. In an eerie whisper on the wind, black magic roared through my body and my wings burst from my back in all their majestic glory. Glittering black mist floated through the gardens sparkling like death. It was gorgeous. I felt free and evil and ready to deal with the asshole Fairies. It was good to be me. I was going to win. I was going to take back what was mine. I was going to have a relatively, yet unconventional and fiery, happily ever after.