Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2002 20:01:52 -0800
From: mistress_n9@juno.com
Subject: Koty Series: Prologue and Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not know nor do I think I am the BSB. This was written
for pleasure only. The plot/concept of the story is based off of Neil
Gaiman's The Sandman series. If you are under 18 or it is illegal to
view homosexual material in your town/city/county/state/province/
country then please leave.

The Koty Series: Despair and Dream
By Lady Nimm (9)

Prologue:
In a world of confusion, 5 things remain constant. Dream, Desire, Death,
Delight, and Despair. And in each generation or century, these Koty or
Mortal Endless take form. Many have interpretations of them. Gods and
goddesses or demons, they were revered. They each have a mortal to call
upon them when needed and balance out their sides.

These mortals could call upon them whenever in danger but they were
usually the opposite of the person they represent. They were chosen
before they were born by the former Koty before they pass on their power
to their pupil. The callers were chosen and if they abuse that power,
all memory that included anything to do with the Koty would be erased.

They are not immortal for their caller is their heir; the ones who will
take the job after the predecessor expires. For then, they will roam
with the Endless on another place.

But it really isn't the matter of who finds who or how long it takes.
It's not to fall in love with the caller.


Chapter 1:
Part 1: Despair and Aaron Nottingham
Despair roamed the streets of London, England. None of them had their
callers yet. Damn emotionally strong humans, he thought.

"Despair..." called a gentle voice. Almost immediately, Despair found
himself transport to a lovely country mansion. A man his age walked
towards him. His eyes were a darker shade of brown than Despair's. He
stood tall; towering over him a bit. He was built and had brown hair
with a Grecian face.

"AJ McLean." Despair whispered, using his true name.

"I'm Aaron Nottingham." Aaron bowed and kissed the back of AJ's hand.
He had a light British accent that made Despair's insides melt. "A
pleasure to meet you, Mr. McLean."

A storm raged outside. "You called my name, Mr. Nottingham." Despair
pointed out as they sat down.

Aaron brought tea and set it down on the coffee table. "I'm afraid I
don't get many visitors. I find it strange that I called upon you
without your sigil or annulet."

Despair reclined. "Ah...the Sandman is a good series, is it not? Vivid
and wild pictures that looks like what my true self resides."

"So you're really a woman?" asked Aaron.

"NO!" Despair glared at him.

Aaron chuckled quietly. "I was only joking." They sat in silence for a
while. "Do I call you by just calling your name?"

Despair produced a rose out of nowhere and a small velvet box. He
handed it to Aaron who blushed and opened the box. Inside was a
necklace with a curved blade on the end. It wasn't sharp enough to
pierce his skin but it was still metal.

"This is my sigil." Despair whispered as he put the necklace on Aaron.
"Hold this and call on me. I'll always come to you."

Aaron fingered the necklace. "Do you need to leave right now?" he asked.
Despair nodded. "Then go." Aaron smiled. Despair smiled and kissed the
side of Aaron's check before disappearing.

Aaron got up and looked for a vase. This house used to be full of life.
Holly Falcon lived here. She had brought laughter into the household.
He remembered when she would dance in the sun. Her laughter mixed with
spring's songs; her eyes blue as the sky; her golden hair reflecting
the sun. She died of terminal cancer just last year.

Nimm Lancaster had lived there throughout her teen years and literary
career. She too brought a vivacious ambiance to the home. They would
have so much fun partying or just being silly. She was taken in a
shooting outside the Palace downtown.

Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes. He lost two best friends yet he
himself was still alive.

Maybe that was why the former Despair had chosen him as the hair. Maybe,
just maybe.


Part 2: Dream and Jorryn Vai
Jorryn tucked a lock of raven hair behind his ear as he walked down an
Eton street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed before
turning his almond-shaped eyes towards the blue-grey skies. He was at
Eton College, finally. But he wondered if he really wanted to be there.
His dreams had become but mere black holes in his psyche.

Nothing helped him write anymore. Perhaps it was because he got dumped
just a few weeks ago. He sat on a bench and put his head in his hands.
He looked at the sky again. Why do I feel so empty, he wondered. He
sighed again before getting up and walking back to the dorms.

"Hey, Vai!" shouted a classmate. "You have a package."

"Jorryn looked at the box and slowly lifted the lid. All he saw was a
mask on a chain. The mask was barely bigger than his thumb; the African
warrior stared back.

He put it on the nightstand before turning out for the night. He closed
his eyes, awaiting for the darkness.

Instead of the usual darkness, a figure in black made its way towards
him. Jorryn fell into the creature's embrace without question. the form
shaped into a Latino man much older than he was. He had soothing brown
eyes and a comforting smile. Jorryn had seen him before. He was Howie
Dorough.

"I am Dream and your protector. You have my sigil. Call me whenever
you're in trouble like you did tonight. You have a power all your own
as well. You can pen dreams on paper; an ability most humans don't have."

Jorryn just stood in Dream's embrace. They laid down on a cloud. "Just
hold me." Jorryn whispered. "Please."

Dream said nothing and held him. Never had he met someone like Jorryn.
He was so fragile and so soft; quiet like a dove. Dream wrapped the
young man in his arms.

Jorryn felt safe and warm in Dream's arms. Safe until morning came to
awaken him to a new day.

He opened his eyes groggily; still enchanted by the dream. Dream...the
Adonis that held him all through the night. He sighed; still feeling the
arms around him.

He opened his notebook and began to write furiously whatever came into
his mind.

He sat back hours later. He had filled nearly 3 notebooks full of just
one story. He stopped and reread what he just wrote, surprised that it
made sense.

He took the key chain and kissed it. "Thank you, Dream."

"Jory! Come on! We have an assembly to get to." Brandon shouted.

"Coming!" he replied before running out with his friends. They ran
across grounds over the snow and to the outside of the assembly house.
"What's the assembly for?" he asked as they waited to be seated.

"Some Yankee choirs want to go against ours." Brandon replied. A
snowball hit Jory. He turned to see a group of no more than 18 dressed
in 18th to 19th century-style clothes. They looked like the traditional
carolers. Girls were in large gowns and guys dressed like the Etonians
with more colorful waistcoats and top hats.

They were laughing, squealing and throwing snow at each other. A little
one with the bluest of eyes and dark hair, curled and peeking out of a
dark red bonnet smiled in Jory's direction. A snowball hit her; sending
her into a fit of giggles and falling in the snow.

She looked at them again before throwing a few snowballs in their
direction. Many Etonians joined in, including Jorryn, joined in the
Winter Dream.


E-mail is greatly aprreciated: Mistress_N9@juno.com