Dusty Reed
From Changeling Venue
Alias(es): None.
Real Name: Dusty Reed
Freehold: Cresting Waves, Gulf Breeze, Florida.
Apparent Age: Early to mid twenties.
Seeming: Darkling
Kith: Antiquarian
Court: Autumn
Concept: The Lost Returned Home; Discontent Outsider
Relevant Traits: Mantle (Autumn) x2
Quote: “Because I do not hope to turn again, Because I do not hope, Because I do not hope to turn” – T. S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday
Contents |
Mien
Her time in Faerie twisted her visage terribly, though it seemed she had only been there a short time. Her once golden blonde hair looked more like strips of bleached bone and her skin was a somber grey. Never a curvaceous girl, her body more resembled that of a scarecrow. Though she was small, only 5 feet tall, her limbs seemed too long for her body and were far too thin. She was a caricature in black, white and grey, devoid of true color – except for her eyes. Her eyes remained a bright hazel that was shot through with gold.
Mask
Even her mask holds onto many of the features she inherited while in Faerie. Her hair holds very little luster and seems faded, though it still clings to its original blonde coloring. It lacks volume and simply falls about her face like so many strands of loose silk. Her skin is shockingly pale, unnaturally so. She had always been a petite woman, but now she seems much smaller in stature and she looks painfully thin. Her eyes still hold that bright hazel hue, though, and a strong spirit shines through. Unfortunately, so does a horrible bitterness that is clear in her physical movements as well as her random glances.
Mantle
To Be Added…
Background
I was 22 when I came to that place. I still don’t know why I was taken though my memories of that day are as clear now as they were then.
My mother ran a small bookshop out of our home in Gulf Breeze. The evening I was taken, we had just received a new shipment of books. My mother liked to deal in the more obscure titles so I we had very unique clientele. They tended to request the stranger occult books, which my mother would gladly order for them. On this particular evening, we had received a shipment for one of our regulars There were three books total, one of which entranced me so that I decided to sneak away with it while my mother was cataloguing and putting away the rest of the new inventory.
I don’t remember what the book said, but I remember that it had pictures…lots of pictures, or more like drawings. Again, my memory fails me. I just know they had me completely spellbound. That night, my dreams were haunted by those drawings. They seemed almost feverish in their obscurity. I heard voices coming from the images floating in my mind. It was as if they were calling to me. They were so real that when I awoke, I was not sure if I was awake or still dreaming. I could still hear a single voice calling to me.
I went to my bedroom window and peered outside. I saw a figure standing at the tree line behind our house. It was motioning for me to come outside. I did. The being was tall and slim, almost skeletal, but strangely appealing. It drew me. As I walked toward it, it turned and began to walk into the tree line. I walked faster and began to run as it disappeared into the trees. I didn’t stop as I hit the tree line. I was determined to catch up to it, to find out what it was. But, as I passed through the front line of trees and into the thick of them, the thing was gone. I struggled passed the low-hanging branches and through the tight squeezes calling out to it, but there was no response. The thing was nowhere to be found. I turned back toward the direction of my house. I never made it back, for when I turned around, it was standing there. It motioned for me to follow. Its appearance could not be described. I followed it and found myself in Faerie.
She must have let me go. I don’t remember escaping. I don’t remember wanting to escape. But somehow, I walked out of the forest a few years older and very confused. My memories were probably clearer then than they are now.
My house was right there, right in front me. It was just the same. I was so excited. The chains of Faerie were falling away. I was home. But when I got inside, nothing was as it had been. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. There were cobwebs in every crevice. All of my mother’s books were strewn about as if they had been thrown in a fury. The ones still on the shelves had obviously not been touched in years. As I ventured through the house, my excitement faded into dread. My mother was gone and I had no idea where she had gone or what had transpired before her departure.
I passed the floor length mirror in the hallway and was stunned at what I saw. My reflection was not my own. It was an emaciated distortion of what I used to look like. Things had changed much more than I had originally thought. I was older and my skin looked faded. My hair seemed bleached out. It was frightening. I made my way into my bedroom, which looked like it hadn’t been touched since the day I left. I sat on the bed and didn’t move for what seemed like hours, until I heard the door open downstairs. The sound shook me from my stupor and I ran out into the hallway to peer down the stairs. Standing in the foyer at the edge of the stairs was an older-looking woman wearing a business suit. She had a flashlight in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She turned the light on and flashed it around the dimly lit foyer, then spoke.
There was a brief exchange. She did not believe me at first when I told her who I was. She recounted the events that followed my disappearance and leading up to the institutionalization of my mother. Apparently, she had become completely incoherent and non-responsive to anyone or anything.
The woman was an attorney. She had been asked to take over my mother’s affairs since my mother was no longer functionally capable to handle these things herself. She had faded into herself and no longer responded to anyone. I once entertained the idea of going to see her, but it was too painful a possibility. Legally, all of my mother’s property belonged to me. She had actually gone through the trouble of writing up a will when I was born. My mother was careful about those types of things. She had always made sure I was taken care of. I decided to leave the house and business license in my mother’s name. I was given all of her paperwork by the attorney, whom I had gotten to know pretty well after my return. I cleaned up the house and reopened the shop. Starting a new life was important to me. I couldn’t just stand still and wonder about where I’d been, though I sometimes wondered if I’d really ever left.
I had actually returned in 2002, 12 years after I was taken. It had never seemed that long when I was away. And though I had only aged five years, with my pale skin and platinum hair, I knew I appeared much older. Re-entering the “real” world was not an easy feat. Neighbors continuously gave me strange looks and others simply avoided me. It took longer than I thought for my mother’s shop to start getting business again. Even then, it was usually the overly curious or flat-out nosey that came in.
As the months passed after I reopened the shop, I became more and more irritated with these gawkers. They only came in to see the crazy book lady. I was the girl abducted by aliens down the street or the girl that wasn’t real. Some doubted I was even who I said I was. Many of the neighbors believed that Dusty Reed had died or had simply disappeared 12 years ago. I felt an undeniable need to scare the holy hell out of the whole bunch of them. I found myself letting the dust build up on the shelves and began collecting strange knick knacks from other area shops. I left the lights dimmed in the front lobby and kept the rest of the house completely dark. Pretty soon, the gawkers began to dwindle to only the truly brave. Even then, I only had to give them that look and they’d scurry out of the house.
I began to long for the obscurity that was Faerie. I wanted to forget, or to remember, I’m still not sure which one. As the years passed, I became more and more resentful of this new life. I wasn’t myself anymore. I was something else, something twisted and not of this world. That other place was to blame. I couldn’t decide which I hated more, the Fae for bringing me to that place or the humans of this world who refused to accept me. I was alone either way.
I wanted to go back. I wanted to return so badly that I began searching for a way back in. The woods behind the house proved useless. There was no entrance there that I was able to find. The more I searched, the more obsessed I became until it felt as though my mind would break, and I began to remember things. They were still hazy flashes of visions, but they felt so much like memories it was heard to disbelieve them.
Over time, I began to remember what it was that I had become. I was a changeling. There were others like me, or there had been. I was sure that I was not the only one to be freed from the Fae, but where the others might be was a mystery to me. I began to use this sometimes unclear knowledge to my advantage. I craved strange energies, which I found I could get from the frightening the children that ventured to close to the house. I desired more and began to even seek out fear, especially that of those that sought entertainment by sneaking about my house to catch a glimpse of the creepy lady.
I found that there were many victims at my disposal in the neighborhood around my house. Many of the children and teens had always been an irritation to me and I found that it was very easy to get into their bedrooms at night with the right touch. It took several failed attempts and quick escapes to finally master getting the windows open from the outside. But, once I was inside, I was as quick and as quiet as a mouse. I could actually leave behind small mouse-like footprints behind, erasing any sign that anyone but a mouse had actually been there. Fear is a very fitting punishment for ignorant inconsideration in my opinion and it felt good to lash out at them. So good, in fact, that it frightened me. I began to fear myself and what I had become. It didn’t, however, stop me from lashing out when provoked.
When in the hedge, my dreams were clearer than outside of it. The draw to Faerie was also a lot stronger, but controllable. I dreamt of chores, of dusting the rows and rows of books that seemed to stretch upwards forever. I dreamt of punishments, of being forced to clean stables filled with other changelings. I remembered snatches of their voices whispering to me through the slats of their “cells”…whispered messages and tales that I couldn’t remember. I always awoke feeling as if my mind were strangely empty, as if I’d dreamt of nothing at all.
I was finally introduced to true Changeling society the beginning of 2006. A very strange individual entered my shop one late January afternoon. He strongly resembled a spider, though still a man. He moved like an arachnid and seemed to be covered in web-like veins. His appearance caught me completely off-guard and from the look on his face, my appearance had apparently shocked him as well.
After a moment of simply staring at one another, the gentleman spoke up. “So, my suspicions were correct,” he said
So, I met Taran Tula and made contact with others like me. Finally, I was no longer alone, technically. Though I found Taran to be a bit…odd, to say the least, he was still a Changeling, like me, and had experienced Faerie. He knew more about Changeling society, about the true threat that the True Fae pose, and most importantly where other Changelings could be found. They apparently frequented a place called the Inn of the Lost Home which was actually run by another Changeling. There truly was a whole society of Changelings buzzing around Gulf Breeze. How large that society actual was, was yet to be seen, but I wanted to be a part of it. I truly wanted to be a part of it.
Timeline
- Born in Gulf Breeze, FL in 1968.
- Stumbles into Faerie in 1990.
- Returns to Gulf Breeze, FL in 2002, takes over running a small bookshop out of her house.
- Finally comes into contact with other Changelings in 2006.
- Currently part of the Freehold of Cresting Waves
Associations & Associates
- The Freehold of Cresting Waves
- The Inn of Lost Hope - Innkeeper Solstice
- Taran Tula
I am still seeking background ties if anyone is interested.
Quotes
Please add stuff
Fact or Fiction
- Dusty keeps a very large "guard spider" in the attic of her shop. Beware!
- She keeps the local thieves on speed dial for those late night emergency book retrievals.
- Local teens have been seen fleeing her shop screaming in terror for no apparent reason.
<i>Please add stuff, pretty please.
OOC Info
Name: Ashley Nichols
Region: Southeast Region
Domain:a Flooded Stage, FL-024-D
