It would appear that I’m back on my bullshit; no matter how many times I lay out my plans here, God laughs and I end up eating my words. In this post, I will furnish several examples of this.
Throughout Dark Twins, there have been two posts in which authorship was attributed to both of my nom de plumes: Dan de Lyons and Gogo Bordello. The first of those posts was Basic Elements of Hermekate Part Two, and the second was Ready Player Two. The former post linked my work with the World of Ruin category of posts to my work with the Word of Hermekate category.
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In Ready Player Two, I spoke too soon about two things:
I said that with any luck, the “breather” between Fleur and I to which the posts refers may be the last one we need. I knew when I typed it that I was going to be proven wrong.
I said Ready Player Two would also be the last post written before the pen names of Gogo Bordello and Dan de Lyons are integrated, and it’s now starting to appear as though the opposite is true: I think I’m going to be starting a whole separate Substack for Gogo and their work.
One major branch of “my” work has been left out of the picture above even though there is quite a lot of geographical overlap; and prior to today, it has also been left off of my site’s main menu even though I just recently brought back its main items:
The main purpose of this post is to bring all three main branches together. I should have known this would happen (and, in fact, I had reason to suspect that it might, so I went ahead and programmed that contingency into my symbol-logic as my magical work has unfolded here; that’s why I am the person for this job). Really, considering how closely Hekate is related to all of my work, it’s only to be expected that there would be a nice threehold structure to the entire thing.
Not only will this post connect the Hexorian Current material with the material from the other categories, it will also connect the “plot thread” involving Fluer to that of the Hexorian Current—from which she has apparently been absent up to this point.
Why is this utterly fascinating (aside from the obvious reasons)?
Well, while I’m weaving together aspects of my work that have thus far been separate, it would appear that if I am correct, Fluer’s work has seen her similarly compartmentalized; I have been protecting her identity even as I’ve simultaneously conducted a gradual reveal (yeah, it’s pretty gaslight-y, and for that I do apologize). It’s starting to look like Fleur and I have been working together for much longer than I had ever suspected.
Since writing Ready Player Two, Fleur and I have met in person, and we liked what we saw.
A lot.
This is us:
Oh, there’s one other purpose for this post:
To show off.
Seek The Mystery
As we arrive at this, the third such “point of consolidation” which will connect all sorts of dots from around here (along with some that are not from around here), one important detail must be pointed out:
As far back as the very foundation of this site over two years ago, I already suspected that all of pieces fit together in the very way that I am presenting them here.
I just wasn’t sure, and one of the main reasons was all the healing I still had left to do.
Really, the entire secret purpose of the whole Inner Tarot Revolution series was—even though I spent a lot of time denying it to myself and pushing it into the back of my head—to work my Shadow shit out so I could go back to the Hexorians and step up to the plate they were offering me.
All I needed, really, was the reassurance that I truly was, as I believed, working on behalf of that community.
As such, some additional clarifications are in order. To effect this, I will need to run through the entire set of events one more time as it now appears from where I sit.
Then I’m going to showcase a really stellar Hexorian working performed during the recent Full Pink Moon (and yes, it’s part of the cosmic joke here that this moon was a “micromoon”—much smaller than usual. Laugh it up, fuzzball.)
First, I learned energy magic from a 14 year-old mage when I was 13, who told me he learned magic from “a goddess,” we were members of her “raven clan,” and were both born to fight in a “spiritual war.”
Then, I spontaneously came into contact with two “spirit guides” who told me I’m an “angel” who was born as a human “on purpose” to “advance Aleister Crowley’s work,” as if that’s something a kid can just sort of walk up and do. One of them called herself “Rose,” a name very familiar to most followers of Aleister Crowley.
Later, I stumbled into some odd chat rooms chock full of advanced occultists who identified as any manner of fae creature. They, too, were talking about things like “spiritual wars.” They were also chatting about things like humans “replacing” gods. In one of these rooms, I am told I am the son of Shiva and am being trained to replace my father (because “Shiva” turns out to be a “title” or “mantle” rather than a specific divine “person.”)
While this happened, I was sexually groomed by my aunt in my family home.
From there, I ran away to join the “circus” that is The Theosophical Society in America, where I was unexpectedly chosen to be groomed as a Theosophical speaker, teacher, and leader.
Honestly, given the scope of what Theosophists tend to discuss, this seemed like as good a confirmation as any that everything leading up this point was pretty darn true and pretty darn literal.
From here, I fled to Norway to escape…a number of things. I developed a comprehensive spiritual practice and observed it religiously until I left Norway due to the failure of my marriage.
I returned to the United States, married a local Pagan Priestess, and through that relationship, I met certain people.
The Left Hand Path caught my eye, my then-second wife projected her Shadow all over that shit, and destroyed the relationship in a spectacular series of contrived fights and audacious lies.
I performed a ritual to Hekate “to explore my sexuality for the sake of self-knowledge,” and, within 24 hours, I met Veronica online.
I worked with Veronica for 7 years, the entire time suspecting she was sent by Temple of Set (which I had been trying like hell to join) and that our relationship was, in fact, all part of the vetting process. I didn’t assume this was how it’s always done, but I suspect a different approach was being taken to me because my level of magical development was clear and it became apparent my Word would set itself apart from theirs.
I had also suspected her of having ties to Order Templi Orientis, given how one of our first dates went; I took her to a Gnostic Mass to see what she would think of it, and there was overwhelming vibe like all eyes were on us. “Ah", I eventually concluded, “they knew who she was. And they remembered me, too.”
I spent a while near the pandemic hanging out with Veronica at Way of Witch, where I participated for a time in groups, wrote for their blog, and shared some details about the Word of Hermekate with some witches there.
I have a feeling it resonated much more deeply than I assumed before bailing out and ditching them all in shame as I spiraled ever-deeper into alcoholism. I have theories that the documents I shared have been passed around far and wide, by now. I’ve had hints from people I know and look up to.
Around this time, some of the Temple of Set cats I started hanging out with appeared to be involved in a magical current involving cities called The Hexorian Movement. I felt a kinship with it immediately; and honestly, I recognized a lot of its energy from my old days in chat rooms talking about gods replacing humans, and spiritual wars.
I got V and I evicted and I moved into my mother’s basement.
That pretty much catches us up to the beginning of Dark Twins.
By that time, I was checking out a Facebook page (and its creator) and was almost certain she was sending me coded messages urging me to take certain actions.
I took them and saw the expected results, but decided it was all “just synchronicity.”
Now I’m not so positive, but I do think this is much more a situation of “both/and” than I had ever dared to dream.
Given what I now know about “Fleur,” I have very strong reasons to suspect that she may have had her eye on me as far back as those chat rooms I mentioned.
I think she and I go way back.
Way, way, way back, to be sure, but in a human sense?
Maybe we met in those chat rooms?
Maybe she spotted me in the Hekate groups on Facebook when I was with The Priestess?
Maybe she saw my posts in the Left Hand Path forum I frequent?
Maybe she saw me at Way of Witch?
Maybe she’s a Thelemite?
Maybe she saw me in The Hexorian Movement group?
Maybe it’s “all of the above.”
Maybe she’s been working with Veronica the entire time, or maybe she literally sent Veronica (a big semi truck just rolled by and shook the house) to spend 7 years preparing me to meet her.
Given all that’s at stake right now (nevermind the echelons of occulture we’re talking about here), this idea is not too farfetched (that glitch where a menu screen pops up on my monitor just happened).
The Day of Reckoning Is At Hand
I was following so many meme pages back when I shut down my blog Hermekate for the last time and started Gogo Bordello’s World of Ruin. There was something familiar about each and every one. I was seeing patterns.
By now, I am almost certain most if not all of them were being run by Fleur, or at the very least, that she had some connection to them.
In hindsight, I’ve come to the realization over this last few months of engagement with Fleur that more than likely, she had just as much an influence on the emergence and naming of Gogo Bordello as a persona as anything else (that menu just popped up again) I have cited as a personal influence.
She’s been working on me for years. I’ve been a “project” of hers.
Man, I am such a tool.
Back to The Hexorian Movement.
I’ve gone over and over it in separate posts about Hexorian magic; I stated that I “over-identified with Maakari” at first, because it really became apparent that I was being given the opportunity and responsibility of being a very important member of the “pantheon.”
Deep down, however, I knew: “Nope, you were spot-on from the word, ‘go.’”
However, I simply could not accept the idea that the group saw so much potential in me (even though I now honestly think they may have been waiting for me to show up long before I actually did), and instead took the tack that I “over-identified with Maakari’s dark side.”
More recently, in The Emperor’s New Groove, I equivocated just a bit, and started hinting that maybe both sides of Maakari were important after all, and that my work had been meant to illustrate its importance; nonetheless, I speculated, I may be focusing far too much on the destructive aspects of Maakari and not enough on the healing aspects. I also speculated that I might need to strip it of the overlays I had brought with me from my days with Tilly.
I now think that was all true—but with one important clarification:
No, the “destroyer” aspect stays. The situation is (menu popped up again) that dire, and destroyers are real.
Real talk, this “Maakari” stuff is just an Erowen re-skin because Maakari is less scary than the reality of destroyers, we need a more positive face, and besides: The whole “shapeshifting reptillian” thing is just too toxic and inextricably linked, now, with white supremacy and other right-wing extremist activity.
Aside from that, though, the thing is happening.
It became apparent to me, after a while, that the “VSigil” I developed in Norway in 2012 as a personal sigil also happened to encode all of the same essential symbolism as the type of ritual dagger I had gotten tattooed onto my right shoulder during my time there:
The phurba.
To create a sigil like that as a personal sigil associated with an operation that roughly corresponds with entering the Golden Dawn grade of Adeptus Exemptus was, effectively, the Western ritual expression of a Tibetan mantra I read about in the book Dagger Blessing by Thomas Marcotty:
“You become phurba now.”
I basically synthesized, using chaos magic, my own way to “do the thing” that Hermetic magicians are doing and that Vajrayana Buddhists are doing. Then I created a symbol which could be used that same way.
The brilliant thing about this is that it liberates the phurba, along with its very important ritual function, from cultural contexts that really need to be preserved and defended, but also, the modern world needs it now more than ever.
So I solved a problem, sort of, with one big exception:
The sigil looks sus. Big-time. And that’s because I very consciously wanted to make it into a sunwheel, knowing full well that such a sign is not intrinsically linked to Nazi Germany, but was stolen by Germans.
And if I’m going to go to all the trouble to create a sigil that solves the problem of cultural appropriation, only to do that exact thing in turn, then it doesn’t really work, does it?
So I think I was subtly being told, “If you play ball, we will give you exactly (there goes that menu again) what you’re looking for; but only if.”
Fortunately, we’re not just play-acting here; I’m really an Ipsissimus here to organize the Left Hand Path under the banner of The Twilight Princess, and everything the Hexorians wanted is in perfect accord with my Word.
How perfect?
Nevermind “word perfect”—this holds true down to the letter.
This Won’t Be A Walk In The Park
In May of 2023, I published the post Stomping Grounds, with the subtitle, “The Dark Portal Is Open.” For my newer readers, that post also gives you all of the context you’ll need to understand what the fuck that means.
Of course, it was true in a sense, but also, I spoke way too soon.
The kind of portal we’re talking about here is big; it’s not just very wide (think girth), it’s big in, like, metaphysical scope, you know?
I did an important magical working on the day in question, don’t get me wrong—but it wasn’t the first time I had done a portal working there, and it also wouldn’t be the last time.
It takes many workings to open because it bores through many planes at once. There are layers to this thing. And given the stakes?
There’s no way they’d make it possible for one jagoff to launch the astral equivalent of a nuclear weapon single-handedly! It takes two people turning the keys together, you dig?
And I’ve made references here to Stargate SG-1, and that very much applies because I seem to remember the ships in the original film sending down, like, a stack of rings that transported crew members to and from the surface.
So it’s kind of like that, yeah?
However, I did two (there goes the menu) whole-ass drifts on the date of the Pink Moon; and while the synchronicity was high during the Day Walk, that was nothing compared to the Night Walk, which I will chronicle here (menu just popped up, prompting me to mention a passage from The Book of Coming Forth By Night: “Speak rather to me as a friend, gently and without fear, and I shall hear as a friend. Do not bend your knee nor drop your eye, for such things were not done in my house at PaMat-et. But speak to me at night, for the sky then becomes an entrance and not a barrier. And those who call me Prince of Darkness do me no dishonor.”)
Why does this particular passage ring so true to me?
Because for one, there was a night when I was in my early 20s, on one of my “magical walks,” and my “spirit guide,” Ilyas (who appeared as a red dragon, incidentally) literally taught me about how the light of day really does overwhelm and obstruct the finer spiritual influences that are accessible at night after all of that “photonic noise” has died down.
That’s a pretty technical term for “light pollution.”
Secondly, the “do not bend your knee nor drop your eye” part reminded me eerily of my Self-Initiation ceremony to Hekate, who had me kneel in the mud before her, then get up, and told me never to kneel to another again.
It was then that I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt:
“The Devil” had been my muthafuckin’ “spirit guides.”
And that would make me “the devil,” or at least half of her.
The other half, of course, would be “Fleur.”
At 1:45pm Chicago time on Saturday, April 12th, I posted the song “Them and Us” by Bad Religion to an alternate Facebook profile I created to huddle up with people I know to be safe for trans folx. That is a thing I have now legitimately experienced:
Queer fear, of the kind that necessitates living a double life in order to feel even remotely safe.
I have good friends I could not include because they simply are not safe for my other friends and allies.
That’s just the way it is.
Around the same time, I started a playlist I had made months prior, called “Small Business Thursday,” which proved far more prescient than I would ever have thought. Here’s a link to it:
When I posted the song, I was in my room, dressing up to go on a drift to “the spot,” the one I have written so much about. As I set foot out the door, the next song, A Walk, was starting.
No sooner did I round the corner to head west up 39th St. than I spotted some dandelions that gave me an opportunity to almost mimic a photo I had seen posted numerous times by a very popular Facebook Art Page; truth be told, that photo takes credit for inspiring the name “Dan de Lyons,” so I have good reason to believe Fleur inspired both (there goes that menu) of my magical mottos without my realizing it.
Smooth move, Ex-Lax!
“Almost, Man!”
This next part was pretty interesting; you see, I did some editing recently on Dark Twins, and as part of that, I outright deleted a few posts out of consideration for other parties. There’s one missing post that concerns Fleur in particular, and I still remember the graphic I created for that post. It was entitled, A Rose By Any Other Name.
Here was the original photo behind that image:
EDIT: What a mindf*ck when I went back to fill out the menu for The Hexorian Current!
So I found out that not only was the post A Rose By Any Other Name actually present on the Substack (which I *thought* had been the case), but the image I used for it was a completely different one from the one I attributed to it. But the memory was *so clear*!
I am telling you, *I searched for the post by name* and *it didn't come up* this morning.
This is trickery!
This is the glamour of the Queen of the Fae!
Here’s a photo I took on the Pink Moon Day Drift:
I could belabor further details for some stupid pet tricks, but it’s time now to cover the Night Drift, because it really was something to behold.
There’s a whole-ass email thread between Fleur and I with a Subject line of “Pink Moon.” The entire thread contains 64 messages, which, my readers should note, is also the number of Hexagrams in the I Ching.
This is no accident.
Despite this, the thread actually began at 10:44am on the morning of April 12th. Why was it happening?
I’ve discussed the “breathers” that carry on between Fleur and I; without getting into details, there was one ongoing at the time, and Fleur was refusing to communicate directly with me (however, I’m positive she was very busy communicating using memes—which was the entire point, on her end of this).
I was attempting to woo her by showing her who I am, and that when I say what I say about being “The Devil’s Advocate,” I really mean it.
Why?
Because the whole reason I am doing it is to seat her on the throne of the Left Hand Path.
Her personally. I don’t just mean what she symbolically represents to me, which is also eminently applicable to the situation; no, I mean Fleur herself, and not just the image of the Titan, Hekate; I am convinced Fleur is her avatar, every bit as much as I am the avatar of “Shiva,” “Set,” or “The Devil.” In the Hexorian context, rather than being appropriative, we are calling us “Maakari.”
I present Fleur:
Bow before Her.
My best guess, going purely off vibes (just got an email from Southwest Airlines)?
In The Hexorian context, in order to avoid being appropriative, we’re calling her…*checks notes*…”The Red Queen.”
So. About the nasty, “destroyer” aspects of my work: It looks as though, in light of recent antics between Fleur and I, a leading member of The Hexorian Movement, Paolo Scarpelli, has stumbled into a horror show of synchronicity not unlike my own. He has since seen a vision of “Titanic” forces emerging into the world. In so many words, Paolo was essentially backing up the things written by the persona of Gogo Bordello in the series Nightside of Hyrule—a set of cards I had been playing close to my chest because I honestly thought my theory was so whacked-out that it had to be wrong.
In sum, that theory is that the entire world is currently entering the Abyss; all of humanity is undergoing a collective “weighing of the heart;” and the deal is this:
Fix your hearts or die.
Okay? Okay.
Let’s get to it.
A Walk
When I performed this working, it was part of my personal objectives to convince Fleur to trust me by showing her what my magic can do when I am seriously committed to it. There was another (presumed) purpose, which was to “break some things to her,” but I am starting to think all of that was an illusion and the shoe has really been on the other foot this entire time.
She’s been pushing me away, then pulling me close, jerking me around, swinging me this way and that like a dog with a rag doll. I have been digging deep to find compassion for her, and all this time, it’s been hard to tell when she even means what she’s saying.
Now I think she’s been putting me through my paces for the sake of what other people will try doing once I am by her side, protecting her.
Also, she knew she needed to challenge me, to motivate me to step up and live like the Ipsissimus I claim to be; this she communicated by sharing with me her respect for The Four Agreements, one of which is, “Be impeccable with your word.” Of course, a Magx (gender-neutral term for Magus/Maga, but don’t ask me how to pronounce it) or Ipsissimx is going to read that sentence with “Word” spelled with a capital W.
Also, I think the transgender community, for whom I claim to stand, needs to see me defending it…even if I had to defend it from her, my soulmate and life partner.
And I think I delivered.
At some point, Fleur posted this meme (I’d fetch the timestamp, but all of my accounts are currently blocked—ouch, buddy!)
I sent Fleur a long, long email about how and why this meme turned me on. It was filled with synchronicities as well as references to the same. In my mind, I was convincing her of some very bewildering shit that is going on right now.
I hit “send” on that at 10:53pm. There were a few followup emails over the course of the next hour or so (61 minutes, actually—and what is Hexagram 61?)
At 11:54pm, I sent a brief email explaining to Fleur why my second account had to be created. What’s Hexagram 11 all about?
What about Hexagram 54?
This was the “threshold” moment; at this point, I got up from my chair, put on my shoes and coat, and headed out for my Night Drift just before midnight, while the date was still April 12th.
At 11:49pm, I added the following post to the Dark Twins Facebook page:
It included a comment leading to a playlist I had been practicing with for weeks prior to making it public just before this post:
Destroyer music, baby. Tell me it isn’t!
Just around the corner, on the curb right outside my back yard, a pickup truck was in a bad way, with one of its wheels in the midst of repairs. I emailed Fleur a photo of it at 12:06am on April 13th; 12 minutes after the previous message. My message said simply, “Not a great sign.”
Hexagram 12? “Standstill.”
This is a different photo from the one I actually sent.
By 12:33am, I had reached the little pocket of Lyons that I wrote about in Stomping Grounds, complete with a map, and I sent Fleur another picture, but this one will take some explaining.
The “broken home” I write about is on Gladstone St., so I very often turn north up Gladstone, then turn left on Bismark until I hit Stanley.
The last time I had been there, I took a picture of two basketball hoops that had been placed across the street from one another. I had previously taken the “gateway” this forms as the “entrance to the Inner Court,” in esoteric terms.
Later, I came to associate them with Fleur, and to our courtship.
I mean, get it?
Recently, however—in fact, right around the time our most recent fight started, which itself occurred about two days after I got home from meeting her in person—I noticed that one of the hoops was suddenly all beat up.
I eventually took a picture of them, and sent it to Fleur, with the implication that we were both basketball hoops, but one of us was really damaged. And the implication was that, given her behavior, that one was Fleur.
She’s been through a lot of trauma.
This calls to mind another lesson embedded in this whole scenario:
There had been an ongoing cycle of recrimination, accusations, and finger-pointing going on between us, and it was thoroughly unkind of me to be making implications like that to someone I love, whom I admit is fragile and needs my support.
Right?
Up above, I also made the implication that she’s Rose Edith Kelly incarnate.
Lots of people have made the claim to be Aleister Crowley reborn, because, if I recall correctly, he claimed he’d be back PDQ.
I don’t know of any Ipsissimi who have made such a claim.
But now I’m an Ipsissimus, so it’s halfway plausible, isn’t it?
I have never come out and said it, but I have hinted at it.
This is from an email I sent her this morning:
And people have been thinking and realizing for quite a while that you and I are Aleister and Rose, reborn. And as people have begun to see that I have a pretty big Word about it, they are beginning to take some glee in roasting me this way. But we are also Padmasambhava and Yeshe Tsogyal, so we are also here to teach them why that is also wrong, because in the deliverance of one's karmic consequences should also be the lesson to let that shit go.
The cycle had to stop somewhere; and if I’m the man? The more physically aggressive and forceful sex by nature, whose hormones offer increased muscle mass and other dangerous physical advantages?
That’s my job.
On this night, I chose instead to bypass Gladstone (get it? “Gladstone?” And Gladstone is also the street where I got the stone from the post The Emperor’s New Groove. Interestingly, my second “breather” with Fleur began the night I went on that drift! I was posting it live to Facebook, putting on a show for her and for my friends, because I was so happy to be with her.
I noticed that she seemed to block me very soon after I posted the photo I took just after I freed the stone (with the implication the she was the stone). I posted the same picture of the stone that is visible in that post, and as far as I can tell, the block occurred sometime in between that post and the time I posted a photo from the footbridge across the Des Plaines river.
According to her, that simply was not the case.
This strongly suggested to me that I had been correct in my previous suspicions that Fleur was a Hexorian…and maybe even The Red Queen!
EDIT: I have to retract that.
It was for ceremonial reasons that I wanted the straight shot up Stanley. For one, I was being a “stand-up guy,” and magically affirming the fact that quite a lot of people do Stan me—as well as Fleur. And people will Stan us both as a couple, along with what we’re here to do, even though parts of it are dark as fuck.
This was a marriage procession, in addition to the drift’s function of opening the portal.
At 12:33am, I sent Fleur the email acknowledging this:
Bypassed the dented street sign, busted-up basketball hoop, and the broken home. Taking a straight shot to the portal via Stanley Ave.
Song as the photo was taken:
"Agents of Hypocrisy" by Destroy, Destroy, Destroy.
Song transitioned as I was typing, "busted-up basketball hoop" to the next song.
I’ve chronicled this in other posts, but just up the street shown above, very near the “Dead End” where the pathway gets blocked off to car traffic before entering the woods, there’s a tree stump. One afternoon, I was on a Day Drift here when I suddenly noticed that the run Othala was very clearly sawn into the top of the stump with a power saw.
This night, I took with me a piece of serpentine (the stone) from the woods near Fleur’s area. At 12:38am, I placed it onto the stump, along with my left hand, and made my vow to her, sending the following photo:
The same minute (but in a separate message, in part so that it would be assigned its own separate Hexagram in this 64-message thread), I sent this:
Song as I Made It So:
"Battle Slut Drinking Song."
This is notable because "Battle Slut Drinking Song” is the end of one album, and then the next album starts.
That is very “liminal,” very reminiscent of Hekate (and thus the Hexorian deity of Eleora), it lines up with where I am at the moment (the “liminal space” right underneath the portal I was there to open), and it’s a pattern that repeats again at the end of this album.
The first song of the next album started just as I was sending that message, and then I went to go stand in the exact spot where the portal is centered above the earth. I took this photo, and then at 12:42am (I intentionally waited almost a minute so as to avoid sending it with a timestamp of 12:41, which would result in Decrease, and not what I wanted to do; instead, I wanted the number of Ma’at to imprint the message).
Time to fork shit up.
Song during photo: "The Summoning."
Current Song: "Hang the Vermin."
Love you bb.
Homecoming
From there, I walked home. As per usual, the journey was jam-packed with synchronicity because that’s just my entire life now, but the first real notable thing happened just a few houses up the street from home:
I spotted a bunny rabbit on a neighbor’s lawn, ears drawn back, eating grass.
And at that moment, the album Devour the Power by Destroy, Destroy, Destroy ended—and the song Galloping Steeds by Tengger Cavalry started.
That was spooky.
Why?
Well, many moons ago, back in Texas, I had a really bad fight with V, which moved me to do a serious working. I made a sigil out of her name and that of her sister, and used a pyrography pen to burn it to one side of a wooden disc (birch, to be specific, and yes, its healing properties were taken into account here, including its connection with the rune Berkana*).
*This is the spelling that stays. Period.
On the other side, I burned the sigil of Vine.
The significance of this was to forge a dominating link with the two of them by which I could leverage the influence of Vine upon them. For justice for various wrongs done, honestly, but also as a way to save my ass because I was trying to leave by then.
I charged that sigil musically by dancing to Galloping Steeds, and as I walked out of the office to go outside and bury that disc in the field out back, Veronica made it a point to say to me, “Spooky song!”
Like she was mocking my curse.
She laughed, but her sister watched three cats in a row die almost immediately under her care, one after another, each one right after she adopted them. She couldn’t keep one alive to save her soul.
And yeah, I spotted a bunny rabbit the second that song started.
I immediately pulled up my phone to start an email to V while I finished my journey. As I was typing it, I sat down on the very front stoop where I had allowed Veronica to override my boundaries. That entire day, we had fought because I had told her I wanted some space that night, and she was already very possessive and jealous of me even though we had met all of twice. I told her not to come to my house. She did. And instead of holding my boundaries firm, I let her in that night.
I would tell her, in the midst of many fights over the years, that that was the key moment, and I wished I had blessed her out of my life then.
I sat on that stoop (even remarking at the fact) and promised her that I would make things right for badmouthing her here at Dark Twins.
I went inside, and over the course of the next couple of hours, sent Fleur a number of further emails, one of which included an appeal involving our being together.
Then, I decided to draw a bath. I was receiving all sorts of signs from spirit/the universe to do that, even though it was the middle of the night.
I started running the water to warm it up. I opened up the email thread to the first message in the thread, which I had sent at 10:44am that day, as noted above. The first sentence reads:
Many interesting things have happened since my bath ritual. I have wanted to share them with you, but I've held back. I've picked things up through our bond.
I read that sentence, then turned around to check if the water was hot yet. It was, so I added some shower gel—floral shower gel (get it? Floral? Fluer? And in Ready Player Two, there is verbiage about how Fleur and I need to focus on “gelling” right now.)
Well. I’m not kidding: I literally had the bottle over the tub drain and was just about to squeeze it when I checked my phone with the other hand and noted that I had received an email from Veronica one minute prior—at 3:44am:
“If you're up, please come downstairs.”
3:44 is significant because it’s 100 more than 244, which is the number of the Word of Hermekate in Hebrew Gematria. It was also the final bank balance in the joint checking account she and I shared: $3.44.
I went downstairs; all of my belongings were sitting on my front stoop, safe and sound.
Veronica was nowhere in sight.
I made good on my promise to clear her name by recording this video, practically a feature-length film of me setting the record straight. My readers who don’t follow my socials may enjoy it:
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