[Fireheart]: 318.Full Length Stories.The Never-Ending Story

Fireheart awoke from her dreams of flame and hunting elk amidst her alcohol-induced slumber to hear a loud, continuous banging noise, which was almost drowning out the sound of chirruping birds coming from her alarm clock. She groaned and rolled out of bed, taking most of the blankets with her. She landed in a most undignified manner face-first on the floor, and caused various breakable objects to tremble dangerously in their glass cases. "Okay, okay, I'm up!!!" she announced in a muffled tone, as she hauled her face off of the pine floor, feeling her nose for splinters and broken bone. The banging sound continued unrelentingly. "Cut it out, didn't you hear me???" Fireheart snarled, glaring down at the floor. 
She took her enormous broadsword, almost as tall as her from it’s resting place next to her bed, unsheathed it, and plunged it into the floor clear up to the hilt. The noise immediately ceased. "You should know better by now!" she shouted, pulling her sword out of the floor and brushing off the razor sharp blade. Living in a house with many of her close friends, she was used to people trying to wake her up by banging on the cieling below her with broom handles and the like. She wasn't sure who it had been this time, and she didn't care, since she had most certainly gotten her point across. She resheathed her sword with much ceremony and placed it back on her bedside table.
Another noise pulled at her senses. It was soft, bubbly, and annoying. Fireheart froze and slowly turned towards her alarm clock, which was emitting fake-sounding bird calls. Looking at the time, she could tell that it must have been going off for hours without waking her up. Her eye started to twitch. She'd had it. She blinked at her alarm clock casually and it burst into flames. She picked it up as it melted and threw it out the open window, still warbling dementedly. Pleased with her pyro-kinetic abilities, she smiled and inhaled the fresh irish air coming through her window as a cool, refreshing ocean breeze blew through her room. She wandered back over to her queen sized bed and piled the covers back on top of it unceremoniously, then stretched.
Fireheart stripped off her pajamas, which consisted of a large tee shirt and a pair of underwear, and rummaged through her dresser, which was quite messy, until she found something she could wear. She threw on a pair of beaten up, flared, slightly baggy jeans and a tye-dyed tank top with a skull and crossbones on it. She cinched her jeans up with her hand woven "hippie belt," which was a family heirloom. She frowned at herself in the floor-length mirror that was next to her dresser. 
At twenty two in human years, she was of average height, a bit short-legged, with a curvy figure that didn't quite hide her apparent strength and muscle. She was, as her dear friends called her, "top heavy"- she had a full bust and it drove her insane, even though most young women of the day yearned for such a physical feature. She had a softly contoured face, with a slightly prominent nose, soft lips, stubborn chin, and intense, curiously golden eyes. She sported at least seven visible tattoos… though not all of her tattoos were in directly visible places. She had long reddish brown hair down to her shoulder blades, and she currently had it streaked red, orange, and yellow, a perfect match to her pyromaniacal personality. 
She grinned at herself in the mirror, then hurried to put on all her jewelry, of which there was plenty- both her almost pointed ears were pierced all of the way around, her eyebrow was pierced (even though she barely ever put a ring in that hole) and her belly button was pierced. She also had the base of the back of her neck pierced three times, and she used straight barbells that she usually left in. She had a morbid fascination with odd piercings, such as that. She also put on a choker of flaming beads and hemp. Fireheart brushed her hair, and then left it down, as she usually did... she hated the feeling of her hair being off of her neck, it made her feel somehow vulnerable. She washed her face in her own personal bathroom, and enjoyed flicking a finger at the hairspray and causing the aerosol can to explode.
After this she waltzed over to the door, humming a tune. She opened the door, and-

"WHOAH, SHIT!!!"
"What the f- SORRY!"
Fireheart squeezed her eyes closed and winced as the 6' 3" half demon/half vampire lost his balance and crashed down the spiral staircase that continued down from her door, sprawling on the first landing.
Fireheart cracked an eye open. "Sorry?" she said meekly. Regaining her composure, she blushed, and straightened. Then it hit her: she sighed. it was so easy to start pretending you led an almost normal human life when you were carrying out everyday tasks in your bedroom. Fireheart continued down the stairs to view the damage.
Fireheart was not in fact human, nor were any of the other people living in the house with her. Fireheart was actually a dragon, as well as the Goddess of Fire. She stayed safe and sound from the human government in a human form, which was quite handy. She liked to be known as Jenna in front of humans. Some of her more dragonish traits did show through constantly, such as her ability to control and generate fire, her semi-pointed ears, fanglike teeth, and her golden pupils. Other than these traits though, she could control what parts of her dragon form were present at will. She could even shift entirely to dragon form if she so desired. Her household friends were all demons, elves, vampires, and faeries.
Fireheart finally reached the landing. She hurried over to the unfortunate guy, who was obviously quite stoned (as usual.) Alemichius Stormbringer Thorne was often either drunk, stoned, or both. Fireheart knelt next to him. "You scared me." she said gently, brushing some of his jet black hair out of his eyes. His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned, and then opened his eyes. They were an amazing green-gray-blue. He squinted up at her, and then said, "No, you scared me. I heard you say you were up." He looked at her staring blankly back at him. He smiled, revealing sharp, pointed canines. "I love you," he said. She smiled almost sadly in return, and then gave him a gentle hug. "Get up, Mitch. I know. I love you, too." She stood back and admired him as he rose to his full height.
Alemichius Thorne (a.k.a Mitch) was muscular without being brawny. He was graceful and powerful, even when he was in a drunken state. He had broad shoulders and a strong-featured face, with those usually mellow eyes and longish straight hair. Before he had last been killed by another demon, his hair had been down to his lower back. When he had been brought back to life however, a process known as “reanimation,” his appearance had changed, because his soul had become harbored in a different body, but he hadn't changed terribly; the Reanimator usually captured a person’s features before time of death almost perfectly. He had a lightning bolt shaped tattoo under his right eye, which was the symbol that represented his power over storms and the weather. 
He was the Storm God in the same manner that Fireheart was the Fire Goddess. Mitch also had another form, buried deep within himself, and that was of a jet black dragon with green markings. His dragon name was Stormbringer. 
Mitch was currently wearing a black Rolling Stones shirt and a pair of denim shorts. His feet were bare, and he looked like he had just woken up... but that may have just been because he was stoned. 
Fireheart and Mitch had been friends for a long period of time. They had dated several times in the past, and after discovering how much they loved each other, they had started "going steady" as the term went. They had been together for four months at this point in time. Fireheart was amazed at how she knew true love immediately ever since that first date. It was such a different sensation, one that buried itself deep in your soul and refused to be swayed. She knew she had never felt the same about anyone as she did about Mitch.
She surfaced from deep in thought to find that she was staring right into Mitch's incredible eyes, which were for the moment pure blue (meaning he was flirting.) "Get lost in your mind for a minute there, sweetie?" he asked, smiling mischievously (and she knew she was in trouble then.) She was about to turn and charge full ahead down the hallway, but it was a little late for that. So she just wondered what exactly he had in mind for her in those next few seconds...
He gently took her hands and then he kissed her. He'd never kissed her before, at least not like that... so she was at a loss of things to do. She'd been expected to be hunted down and tickled or thrown over his shoulder and hauled around the house or something of the sort, as had been typical in the past week. She'd been kissed on the cheek before plenty of times, but this time his lips met hers so very tenderly, but at the same time with a questioning passion that she'd never felt before. 
In fact, she was so surprised that she fell over. This was how her life went most of the time. Mornings came and brought her klutziness. So she sat there cursing herself and laughing... and with such a mixed bag of emotions she was once again surprised and she keeled over onto her back and just lay there, giggling.
When Fireheart sat up once again, the look on Mitch's face would have made her laugh again, if she'd had the breath for it. Instead she just sat wheezing and waving her arms pitifully over her head, her form of a request for assistance. Mitch didn't get the message, of course, having woken up not long after Fireheart and still quite disheveled.
Fireheart, feeling that her pride had been hurt, indignantly kicked her legs off to the side and then used her momentum to sweep Mitch's feet out from under him. He yelled and collapsed in a heap on top of her. There was an awkward moment of silence, and then the both of them started laughing for all they were worth.
"I try to make your morning special and this is how you repay me?" Mitch wheezed jokingly, having trouble not squashing Fireheart.
"But you did make it special, hon," Fireheart giggled, holding a stitch in her side. "I just had a klutzy morning, is all... and I mean, aren't you happy right where you are?"
Mitch smiled wryly. "I'd have to admit that I Am." he said. They stared into each others eyes. An awkward silence ensued.
Fireheart blushed. "Umm... I'm kinda hungry... so, do you wanna go get breakfast?" she asked, not making any move to get out from under Mitch.
"Sure... man, I'm starving." Mitch said, not moving, either.
Fireheart blushed even more. "Okay... well..." she finally seemed to get her wits about her and wriggled out from Mitch's considerable bulk of muscle. The both of them stood up and brushed themselves off. Fireheart headed off at a brisk walk down the crimson-carpeted hallway, and Mitch caught up to her. 
His fingers twined around hers and she smiled to herself. Life is good... she thought.


Fireheart and Mitch entered the large kitchen area, to find an assortment of their friends eating a late breakfast (the grandfather clock between the two picture windows at the opposite end of the room read ten thirty.) The windows were open, allowing the cool breeze that Fireheart had basked in earlier to circulate about the room. The white silk curtains billowed in the breeze.
Seated at the table was Isil-Morgan Macar (known to the human world as Sarah), Beatrix Tepes (known as Bea or Zoe to assorted humans), Doon Larren (a.k.a Skyler), Calvin Mirolette (henceforth preferring to be known as C), Excel Mirolette, C’s sister lacking a human alias, Elizabeth Thorne, Mitch’s half-sister, Niyasha Larren, Skyler’s sister, Vlad Tepes, Bea’s older brother known as Cameron to humans, Haku the cat-demon who Bea had picked up somewhere along her travels as an exotic pet (but who quickly became a family asset) and Temos, a physician who dated Morgan on and off. Two other people who lived in the house but were not often present were Lestat the vampire (yes, THAT Lestat), a man who had been a tutor to almost every one of the friends when they had been in high school and who had remained in the family, and Esme, Bea’s aunt the crabby, rich vampiric woman who resembled Cruella DeVille when she woke up in the morning.
Fireheart stood at the counter as she fixed herself and Mitch some whole-wheat cereal with strawberries, a banana apiece, some toast for Mitch, and two glasses of orange juice.
She led Mitch to the oak table in the dining room section of the large open space, and put the two plates of food down.
She sat herself down next to Vlad, who was a tall, handsome young man of pale complexion, with windblown long strands of silky black hair hanging in eyes that were almost black but were known to turn glowing crimson red when he was hungry or angry. He looked up at her with an amused expression on his face, and gestured at her with his grapefruit spoon. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He said, his slight vampiric accent not quite disguised in his voice. Indeed, Vlad was a vampire. He was The King of the Vampires, as a matter of fact- known to legend as Vladimir Dracul Tepes, or Dracula. He also had an alter-ego, which happened to be the Reaper, God of Death. He had a fetish for grapefruit.
Fireheart grinned at him. “G’morning, Vlad.” She said. Mitch laughed as Vlad took a bite out of his grapefruit. Vlad wasn’t known to be picky about what he ate… after all, for those of you who don’t know, you do not take bites out of grapefruits. Grapefruit skin is very bitter and rather unpleasant. Vlad obviously didn’t care. 
“Oh, like you have a better palate…” Vlad muttered, looking raptly at Mitch. “At least I don’t plan on eating Fireheart’s-“
Fireheart gave a warning growl that shook the room, while keeping her expression light. Vlad shut up and turned back to his grapefruit. Mitch turned purple and then turned back to his toast, muttering something that sounded like, “Well, at least I didn’t eat Lestat, repeatedly.”
“Well, hello to you, too.” Morgan, who had been engaged in conversation with Bea, was now glaring at Fireheart.
“Yeah, hi Morgan! Hi Bea!” Fireheart said. 
Morgan raised a glass of orange juice in a toast. Fireheart followed along. “Take all ye can!” Morgan sang out, enough to quiet the mutterings of conversation among the occupants of the room.
“Give nothin’ back!” Fireheart finished, heartily clinking her glass against Morgan’s and taking a grand swig. Their daily toasts to piracy and friendship were accepted and enjoyed by all of their friends.
Morgan nodded happily, her curious eyes shining. Morgan’s human form had some little nonhuman qualities, just like Fireheart’s; for example, one of her eyes was brilliant green, sometimes switching to brilliant blue on days when the weather was sunny and warm, and the other one was bright purple. This was a sign of a Fae, or half elf-half faery. Morgan was tall and delicately built. Morgan’s hair was down to her waist and thick, and it was a deep red color streaked with purple. Her skin was pale and glowing. Her arms were covered in faint swirling patterns that were an almost-invisible lavender. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose. She was dressed in her usual colors of green, black, and grey. In full Fae form she had enormous, glittering gossamer wings sprouting from her shoulders, and delicately pointed ears. As a Fae she was also the Goddess of Air.
Bea, sitting quietly next to Morgan, was a petite beauty who could kick your ass while drinking the oriental tea that she enjoyed so much in a delicate china cup. She had no need of a human form- she was able to pass off as human. She had short-cut dark hair, a deep brown that was almost black, and eyes similar to her brother’s. Unlike Vlad, she had deeply bronzed golden skin. She was dressed in a simple dark pleated skirt, fitted blazer, and combat boots. Of course, she was a vampire… however, she had begun life as an Elf named Lomblind. She had been transformed into a demon and christened Odessa through a nasty sex ritual forced upon her by Mitch’s half-brother Malachai, a man who the tight group of friends loathed with a passion for all of the terrible things he had done to them. He was an extremely powerful demon. Vlad and Skyler Larren had taken pity on the demoness Odessa, who was slowly wasting away, and had saved her by transforming her into a vampire and naming her Beatrix. Because she harbored Vlad’s blood, she was considered his sister, although it had been Skyler who had changed her. Bea had an alter-ego, Rhapsody, the Goddess of Chaos, perhaps the most crucial Goddess. The happenings in the Universe depended upon her moods.
C glanced up from his laptop, on which he was busily typing while Excel looked over his shoulder. “Hey.” He said, looking back down as quickly as he had looked up. Excel smiled at Fireheart and Mitch. C and Excel were vampires. They looked very similar and could pass off for twins if they felt like it. They were both lanky, of average height, with alert green-blue eyes and carrot-orange/red hair that never seemed to settle the way they wanted it to. Excel was wearing her usual bright colors, a watermelon-pink miniskirt, orange rave boots, and an enormous baggy bright orange wool sweater. C was dressed in his usual plain slacks and casual shirt. The two of them were hackers, brilliant ones, at that. They were clever enough to pass off for human without needing human forms. They were also counterpart God and Goddess, his element being Frost (his alter ego was Jack Frost) and hers being Snow.
Skyler nodded from his usual position, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the table. He was a chain smoker and at the moment was holding his usual cigarette. He had had is blackened lungs removed many years before, which wasn’t a problem, considering that he was a vampire. For some reason he was still able to speak, though he didn’t do so often and when he did it was usually quietly. He was “little mister dressy emo boy” as Excel affectionately called him. He was wearing a tight fitting sweater vest over his bony, tall, skinny frame, on top of a white dress shirt, which was untucked from his tight fitting girls jeans, barely held up by the belt he was wearing. His shoes were black beat up Converse with shoelaces covered in little white stars. His jet black eyes were the same color as his hair, which was cut in the traditional emo boy way, long, uneven, and hanging over one eye. He had enough holes in him to be considered a pincushion, but he rarely wore jewelry in his piercings. He had an eyebrow ring, three lip rings, and too many earrings to count, but he almost never wore them. His alter ego was Morpheus, God of dreams. He had no human form. 
Niyasha was reading the newspaper and holding a cup of coffee. She was almost Skyler’s opposite, having white-blonde styled hair, ice blue eyes, and pale, rosy skin. She was wearing a simple sweater and jeans; she was not known to be a fancy dresser.
Haku, the cat-demon, was sprawled carelessly across a chair, and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His unruly dark hair, kitty ears, fuzzy tail, and Siamese-cat blue eyes completed the whole cat-demon look. His facial features were faintly Japanese. His fingernails were somewhat like claws, and he could instantly assume the form of a Siamese cat if he felt the urge. He was currently playing with a ball of yarn, carelessly batting it back and forth and paying no heed to the other occupants of the room. His tail twitched mischievously.
Temos, the dark-elf angel who was the house medic, had a CPR manual open and was furiously brewing tea as he looked it over. He was very VERY German and had an obvious accent. His hair was medium blond and hung in his pale blue eyes. He had a mischievous tight-lipped smile. He was known to be one of the world’s greatest perverts, and the world’s greatest manwhore. He had dated Morgan several times in the past. As a dark elf he had pale silver hair and deep blue-black skin, as well as golden eyes. As an angel, he looked like he did in human form, the German, but with white-feathered wings sprouting from his shoulders.
Liz Thorne was a typical Thorne, although Mitch was really the only “atypical” one in the family, due to his hair color (he’d dyed it at a young age with a demonic magick dye, due to the fact that he didn’t want to be associated with the scum that his father and older brother were.) She had golden-blonde hair that swept past her mid-back and a killer figure. Her eyes were emerald green. As was typical of most of the Thornes (even the guys) she was drop-dead gorgeous.
You are probably wondering how “human form” works; well, this will now be explained. A type of magick called the Glamour, or glamourie, can change your very appearance by physically altering your features (it is not just an illusion.) The Glamour can be shed easily, and be recreated at will. Of the company that shared the house, some possessed the Glamour as a natural magick, such as Fireheart, Morgan, Haku, and Temos. Others had to buy glamourie charms from the few makers that were spread out over Earth. Glamourie charms to appear human were the least expensive and therefore the most used. The vampires and demons did not have natural Glamour as one of their Magicks, so they bought the charms. Each of the bought charms lasted for one human year before it had to be renewed.