Jasfoup Tags

I made this to put on the holiday presents at the end of last year. Lina had saved hers and when cleaning out her room offered them back. They make a pleasing group, I think.

£40 free P&P if anyone wants it.

Dead Rite chapter 100.02

“Owned, dude.” Dill held up a loose fist but Ada merely frowned. She tucked the book under one arm and took a step back.

“Goodnight boys. Don't do anything I wouldn't...Never mind. Drive safely, Harold.” She closed the door.

Harold stared at it for a moment. “I have the distinct feeling I missed something there.” He turned and, spotting the twitch of net curtain, waved at Mrs Parkes.

“Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly. Mrs Parkes has lived there for years. Nosy Parker, we used to call her, but she'd tell you everyone who'd been to your house if you were away.”

“We?”

“Mum and me, when I was a kid. Actually she was all right in those days. She used to give me a piece of fruit and a sweet when I came home from church every Sunday.”

“You went to church? You don't seem the type.”

“You'd be surprised. Actually, it was a good introduction to the ways of the world. Laverstone in Microcosm, you might say. You had the ordinary people, the ones who genuinely believed in a benevolent god who went every week and gave to the poor; you had the merchants and politicians who went because people expected them to and you had the people who went there to show off. The ones who sat on the front seat wearing Versace and Armani and who put a fiver in the collection plate because it proved their success to everyone.”

“And you? Why did you go?”

“I got a preferential rate of interest in the after-church Sunday school. 'You can bank on God,' Reverent Sandy used to say. Of course, it turned out he was an angel working undercover who tried to kill me when I got a bit older but he gave me my sense of business acumen.”

Dead Rite chapter 100.01

Harold ushered Dill through the front door, the photocopies in a plastic bag clutched in the zombie's hand. He shuffled awkwardly on the step, the 'Welcome' slogan under his feet patently untrue. “Well...goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Harold. Don't forget to brush your teeth.” Ada looked up and down the street, then across at number seventeen.

Harold turned to see what she was looking at and was just in time to see the curtains were twitching. “Mrs Parkes?”

“Of course. Nosy cow.” She leaned forward. “Any chance you could leave me the book? I'd like to have another go at it. I promise to use a more suitable spirit next time.”

“I suppose.” He pressed the Treatise into her arms. “Just read the whole book before you start messing with it.”

“Hark at Mr Know-it-all. I'll have you know I was summoning demons before you were born, my lad.”

“Well, obviously, mum, else I wouldn't be here, would I?”

“Good point, but you know what I mean. Don't try to teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”

“I never understood that.” Harold leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek. “I mean, blow eggs, maybe, but suck them? They'd be all slimy in your mouth.”

“Ah, bless.” Ada cupped his cheek but winked at Dill. “Such innocence.”

Dead Rite chapter 99.14

“What faction do you play?”

Harold gave his impression of a 'Dick Dastardly' grin. “Demons, naturally. You?”

“The Heavenly host. Nothing like reigning fire down on your enemies to give you the satisfaction of a job well done.”

“Maybe. You'd feel differently about it if you'd ever actually met an angel. There's more humanity in a plank of wood than there is in an angel. Even demons have more humanity than angels and that's saying something.”

“Language Harold.” Ada clipped his ear. “At least demons have the respect to tell you they're going to burn your house down. You don't see angels doing that. With them it's all 'Blasphemer! Smite them with fire, O Lord!'” She looked at the homunculus. “Come on then. Stop comparing toys with your little friend and get on with it.”

“Right. Sorry.” Harold glanced at the book again to get the spell fixed in his mind. “Where's the animus laqueus? Oh, I see it.” He picked up the cocktail stick his mother had used to inscribe the symbols. “Dill? Would you kindly put a daigonal line through it to release the spirit?”

He waited while Dill struggled to focus his best eye to complete the task, then spoke the dissolution spell. “Phasmatis phasmatis discedo illic haud postulo vobis moror.”

The blue glow faded from the homunculus.

Dead Rite chapter 99.13

Harold raised his hand and waited patiently for Ada to notice him and nod her assent for him to speak. “I've found the relevant control phrase to dismiss the spirit contained in an homunculus. Interestingly, if you prepare another soul trap in advance you can nudge them out of one and into the next like pouring water from a bucket to a watering can.”

“Go on then. Before my coffee goes cold.”

“Right. First we need to find the symbol for animus laqueus. It should look like a square with three lines though it.” He flipped to the pages describing the runes and showed them. “Can you remember where you inscribed it, Mum?”

“On his head, obviously.” Ada peered at the homunculus pancake. “Only it's flat now and I can't see any of them.”

“Hold up.” Harold closed his eyes. “Video vidi visum turpis.”

Dill frowned. “I came to see something unpleasant? My Latin’s a little rusty.”

“I'm surprised you even know any. I didn't think they taught it any more.”

“They don't. Not in my school, anyway. I got it from playing “Terminal Apocalypse Three.”

“Really?” Harold raised an eyebrow. “I play that, too.”

“Ooh! That's pretty.” Ada pointed at the homunculus, where thirteen symbols glowed with a blue light.

Dead Rite chapter 99.12

Ada returned to the coffee pot to refill her cup.

“Should you be drinking coffee if you're about to go to bed?” Dill ignored Harold's frantic head shaking. “Only I've heart that speeding up your heart rate isn't good for a state of relaxation.”

Ada turned. “I beg your pardon?”

“There's a direct correlation between drinking coffee and sleeplessness.” Dill glanced toward Harold but he declined to catch the zombie's eye. There was no way Harold was going to cop the fallout from this one. He didn't even want to listen to Ada's retort.

“Young man.” It was always a bad sign when Ada referred to someone by their age. “When I said I was going to bed it was a polite way of saying please hurry up and bugger off because I'm expecting company. I'm well aware of the effects of coffee on the central nervous system and I'm sure by the time my visitor leaves there will be no trace of caffeine in my system and I'll enjoy a blissful two or three hours of exhausted rest.”

Harold bent to his work in a desperate attempt to block out the mental image of his mother's sexual activity. It was probably his father she was expecting but he knew her appetites weren't always reserved for what the Lord of Hell had to offer and for his part he was generally happy that she was happy, though woe betide any demon who left her not fully satisfied. He glanced up, surprised that a zombie could actually wear an expression of true horror. It took all sorts. He found a page that referred to banishment and read it eagerly. Convinced he had the right spell he looked up and waited for a convenient moment to interject.

“...so I'll thank you to keep your opinions about the chemistry and your speculation about my sex life to your self in future.”

Dead Rite chapter 99.11

“By Satan's pointy appendage, you do blather on, don't you?” Ada stabbed at the book with her finger. “Have you found the reversal spell yet?”

“Not yet, mum, no. The book seems to have been written in one go by a man who hadn't so much organised his thoughts as eaten them in one big curry and then scooped them out of the toilet bowl the following morning. Trying to find anything in the mess of thoughts, suppositions and plain incorrect assumptions is like trying to find a needle in a whole barn of hay while a farmer is dropping lit matches because he needs the insurance money.”

“Isn't there an index?”

“Oh! Why didn't I think of looking in the index, because all handwritten streams of consciousness have an index in the back. Oh wait, there isn't one. I thought one might have appeared because you think it ought to be there.”

“There's no need for that, Harold.” Ada's voice could have made the fridge think it was useless at its job. “Society is based upon being civil and if you can't say something civil I'd rather you said nothing at all. Debating the philosophy and merits of the afterlife is all well and good but there's a time and a place for everything and right now I want you to get rid of a spider so that I can go to bed.”

“Right. Sorry, mum.”

Ada tapped him on the cheek with the palm of her hand. “Don't tell me sorry. Show me it.”