wardenramirez | Entries tagged with creative muses

Well, I suppose I could say that I’ve got a lot of coworkers, but it depends how you define them. Some people would classify all wizards as co-workers. Me? No. So let’s go with Wardens. They are the ones I have to deal with the most, after all.

Since I was made Regional Commander of Western United States (at the ripe old age of 25), I’ve had to deal with a lot more people than I used to, but our numbers are still small. I’ve got six guys reporting directly to me, spread throughout the States – well, my half. They’re good guys, and do what they can, but they haven’t seen as much action as I have. They’re getting better – a couple of years ago I wouldn’t trust them with more than a couple of vamps in a dark alley, but now... I pretty much give them free reign, and they come to me when they need me, or need numbers – which let’s face it, is pretty often. They are also pretty cool guys – certainly we’ve had good times when we aren’t being attacked by ghouls or vampires.

Then there is my co-Regional Commander, Harry Dresden. Dresden... well, he’s a bit of an enigma. Everyone knows his history – how he was under the threat of the Doom for years after he killed his guardian, but in self-defence. Most of the wizarding community avoids him for that very reason. But Harry? There’s something about him. He’s the kind of person that events happen around. Hell, the first time I met him, we ended up riding a zombie dinosaur to prevent an apocalypse. Trust me, that never happens to most wizards. He’s odd, though. I mean, he can barely get by in Latin, but he understands ghoulish and Ancient Etruscan? And that whole fuss with Morgan – Harry was in the middle of it all, I can guarantee.

I guess it’s safe to say that Harry isn’t like most wizards.

My superiors – well I try to have as little to do with them as possible. I get the feeling they don’t appreciate my friendship with Harry. Tough. The only one I really have contact with is Luccio, now that Morgan is dead, and she’s okay. Well, it’s odd dealing with her after she got was body swapped with Corpsetaker. But I trust her implicitly, and there is not many people I can say that about. Not in this day and age, with all the intrigue and back stabbing that’s happening. You don’t know who to trust.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 423

Picture Prompt

There was no warning. Carlos blinked as he yelled, “Myers, get that fucking portal open, or we’re dead!” He tried to put himself between the oncoming vampires and the kids – oh god, so young – when suddenly everything lurched.

He stood there for a moment, stunned. He felt physically sick, then a powerful headache threatened to force him to his knees. Just as quickly the sensation was gone. He shook his head slightly, clearing the haze that hung over it. What the hell had just happened? He heard noise, shouting, and turned to look.

Harry. What the fuck was going on here? The White Court that sometimes hung around with Harry was there, as was his cop friend, Murphy. He realised that one of the vampires he thought he’d dissolved into dust was coming towards him, and with a hoarse yell fired a blast of energy at tit, hoping to buy him some time. It was swiftly followed up by Murphy firing her gun at it, leaving Harry time to finish it off. Tag team vampire killing.

“Thanks,” Carlos said, breathing heavily as he turned to Harry.

“What the fuck just happened?” Myers demanded, heading over to the group. “You went all... funky there.”

“Funky? How?” Carlos asked, bemused.

“Like you faded in and out,” Myers said. “And how did Dresden know where to be?”

Carlos blinked. He had felt strange, but... The memory of whatever had come over him was fading. He shook his head. “I dunno. Harry?” He turned to Harry to see his friend giving him a quizzical look.

“Luck,” Harry shrugged after a moment. “And Luccio was worried, asked me to take a look.”

“Well, your timing is kinda good,” Carlos grinned, looking at the dead vampires. “Let’s get these kids home.”

Carlos found he couldn’t settle when he got back home. He always felt like that to some extent, but it was worse today, much worse than normal. Like something was missing. He prowled around his apartment, before giving up and heading to his parent’s restaurant.

“What’s wrong?” his father asked, as he walked it. “It’s not your shift, you never come in early. Unless you’re hungry that is.”

“Papa, I’m a wizard. I’m always hungry,” he replied, grabbing a plate, and helping himself. “You need more chilli in that,” he said, after tasting it.

“Who made you chef?” his father laughed. Carlos blinked, then stared at him.

“I, uh... I don’t know,” he said softly frowning, finishing off his food in silence.

He walked back home slowly, trying to work out what was wrong. He wanted to go to Chicago badly, for some reason. He shrugged the feeling away. He was getting sentimental.

Life went on. Carlos discovered a tattoo he didn’t remember getting on his inner thigh, but he kept it to himself. Time passed. The war appeared to be on hold, the wizards rebuilt their numbers. All was good.

One day, he found a ring in his apartment. He picked it up, frowning at it. Silver, with purple stones.

And it fit perfectly on his ring finger. He started wearing it around his neck for no good reason other than he could

Trips to Chicago. He noticed Molly, smiled at her, flirted, but remembering Harry’s earlier warning, did nothing more.

Then Morgan was accused of murder, and all hell broke loose.

Carlos had caught sight of Molly at Edinburgh, watching him thoughtfully, before McCoy had asked him to join him in checking Peabody’s quarters. The sudden realisation that Peabody had been manipulating the Council for years, and that Carlos may have been directly affected by it was terrifying to the young wizard.

“Wait here, son, while we confront him,” McCoy had said. “Sit down, try to think of all the times you’ve been alone with him.” McCoy left, and shut the door.

Stuck there for his, and everyone else’s safety, there wasn’t a lot else Carlos could do. He sat and thought, but Molly kept intruding on his thoughts. The way she’d looked at him. He wondered if he should just bite the bullet and ask her out. Harry would never know, not just for one date...

Haurvatat.

Memories locked away suddenly reappearing. Pocket dimension. Time there, passing. Molly. Her birthday, when he admitted how he’d felt about her. Meeting her parents. Their engagement...

His mind reeled, but he stood up, stunned.

He remembered. Finally.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 732
Takes place when Carlos leaves the rp verse Haurvatat, letting him explore what happens back home.

A black snake in the grass, sinuously winding its way along a dark, shadowy path. It merged with the shadows, barely able to be seen unless you caught its movement.

It continued along its path, moving ever forwards, slowly, carefully. It knew what it wanted, what its ultimate goal was. Chaos. Death. Destruction. And it knew how to get it.

Finding its ultimate goal, it suddenly reared up, flaring its head, fangs gleaming brightly in the shadows. It prepared and bit down, poison entering its victim...

Carlos woke with a start, gasping in a quick breath as he fought away the sensation of the nightmare. He murmured a word, and on the second attempt lit the candles placed around his bedroom, bathing it in a flickering golden glow.

It took him a minute or two to get his nerves back under control. He knew exactly what the nightmare was – his brain trying to come to terms with the violation. If he thought about it, he could feel his skin crawl as the snake crept over him. Peabody had done it. Planting suggestions, setting him up to do whatever the wizard wanted.

He wondered just how many of the young wizards had been affected. So many of them, dragooned into service as Wardens at the height of the War. And who else knew about what Peabody had done? They hadn’t necessarily been able to repair all the damage.

“You’re worse than Morgan ever was with paranoia, Carlos,” he muttered to himself as he stood up and went to get a drink of water. But he couldn’t sake that niggling feeling. So he’d be quiet, wait, and watch. Even though he was seen as a hothead sometimes, he was capable of that. He’d be ready if needs be.

Because something else was coming – that much he knew.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 305

Carlos squinted into the bright light before slipping his sunglasses over his eyes, and putting his hat on, trying to cut out the worst of the bright light. It was a horrible place, really. Ghost towns often were. He glanced around, seeing collapsed building which they could put tents up behind. It would do fine for what they needed.

“I think this will do,” Luccio said, coming up beside him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“The kids are going to hate it,” he commented, glancing at her. “It’s kinda desolate.”

“So?” Luccio said, favouring him with a smile. “We’re not here to baby them. They need to learn how to fight, and that means blowing things up. This place is ideal. I remember when you were in their shoes, Commander.”

Carlos laughed. “In a town much like this one,” he said. “Dios, was I ever so young?” he complained, looking as kids started arriving through the gateway.

“Oh yes, Ramirez, you were,” Luccio replied. “You just didn’t have to get signed up quite as quickly as these kids. You at least finished your apprenticeship.” She glanced as a pair of twins walked past them. “These are barely sixteen.”

Carlos sighed, and nodded. “Let’s get to it,” he said, pushing all thoughts of the war away. This time was just for training. The danger would come later.

Carlos Ramirez
The Dresden Files
Word Count: 227

Picture prompt - Alone

( Cut for Turn Coat Spoilers )

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 430

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. - Norman Cousins

( Cut for spoilers to Turn Coat )

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 360

Bastion

I walked the streets of Los Angeles, trying to clear my head. I'd recovered enough from the knife in the stomach, and I needed some time away from my family to process what had happened. I loved them, but being ill there was never a good idea if you wanted time to yourself.

My suspicions were confirmed. There was a traitor in the Council. And no one who could stop them knew who it was. Which meant they could strike at any time, without warning. And given what we'd been through in the Deeps, with devastating force. Those were no normal ghouls.

Crap.

Oh yeah, annoyingly, Harry's name for them was better than mine.

My mind whirled with possibilities. If a) was the traitor, then they could react this way. Set us up, continue striking as they had. But if b) was then we would be in danger again, because we had no warning.

I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to say anything higher up. If I was wrong it would give the real traitor a chance. If I was right... well I didn't want to contemplate it. The cost could be deadly.

We had to hold strong. Be watchful. Wait. See what was going to happen and be ready, ready to hold out against any strike, and be ready to strike first if we could.

As far as I knew, Harry and I were the only Wardens who knew, though it wouldn't surprise me if Morgan did (and no, I don't think it's him). I remembered something my history teacher had once said about fortresses, how they used bastions to watch, prepare for an attack, how they had full view all around. Harry and I had to be like that, even if it meant we were targets. Because if we failed, the fortress that was the White Council would fall.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 308

Mun note - I have no idea where this came from, or even if it fits, still, it seems to work!

What's a daily activity you must do that's not one of your favorite activities?

Paperwork. I don't know who invented it, but I know of a couple of demons I'd like to introduce them too.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, taking on the role of Regional Commander, Western United States. I knew the other American one, it made sense where we were based, and yes, my ego liked the fact that I was the only man ever to reach Regional Commander before I was twenty five.

But Dios, the paperwork. I have reports on my own activities to write - and have you ever tried writing up exorcisms after seeing certain movies? - and then I have to make sure the junior Wardens under my command fill out their reports. Then I have a ton of reports that land on my desk to read. How we are doing in the war, what the various signatories of the Accords are up to, if anything changes. And you know what's worse? The fact we have to hand write everything. Someone was having a laugh when they gave wizards their own personal bio-electromagnetic field to go along with the uber-powers we have. It means we can't use any technology past about 1950 without running the risk of it blowing up - which sucks. (Though my personal opinion? Even if we could, the Merlin is so stuck in his ways we'd still be handwriting reports anyway).

So there I am, after saving people once again, having to write up the whys and wherefores in a fashion that our Captain will accept.

I hate paperwork.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files
Word Count: 263

006 Storm

Have you ever known when a storm is coming, but there's nothing you can do to stop it? When all you can do is batten down the hatches, and wait it out, hoping against hope that you will survive?

That's pretty much how I felt before the whole mess in Sicily. We knew we should have been safe, but there was something about it that had made me uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that there was so many sick and wounded wizards in one place. The struggle to get everyone to the safe hospital had been hard enough - vampire sorcerer's blocking the way every time you turned round, Outsiders, assaults from all sides. I was just twenty three, wizards three and four times my age were supposed to be fighting these kinds of battles, not ones just starting to come into their full powers.

But when we got to Sicily and got settled... it felt as if that storm was about to hit. But who would listen to me, the young cocky Warden, barely old enough to annoy the older Wardens? Luckily, some of the elder Wardens had a better opinion of the young upstarts. Captain Luccio asked me patrol with her, along with a couple of the other younger wardens.

It was what saved us.

Coming back, not being allowed close for fear that some of the remaining handful of Wardens (a few days ago there were around two hundred of us, now... little over forty) would die as well to the sarin attack, realise how many thousands of innocents had died - I realized then that was what I had felt - the storm had rolled in, and had now passed. It was like the most destructive hurricane, rush in, kill, maim, destroy, then leave just as quickly, leaving an odd sort of peace in it's wake.

Carlos Ramirez
The Dresden Files (bookverse)
Word Count: 312

You are allowed to place three items from your lifetime into a box that will be opened in fifty years. What do you put in, and why?

Three things that sum up me? You don’t want much, do you?

Ok. First of all a picture of my family. It’s clichéd, I know, but there is a good reason people choose that. For me, it represents what I’ve spent the last few years fighting for, because without the likes of me and Harry stepping up to the fight, who’ll protect them?

On that note, the second thing, which is on the same theme, I know. The tassel from my sword. An unusual choice, but then, who uses a sword these days anyway? I lost the first one a while ago, but since then, a friend and I have collecting vampire fangs from the many we’ve killed over the last few years. Not as bad as ‘he gets the left, I get right’, but it’s close. It helps remind me what I fight for.

Final item. Hell, what sums up my life so far other than fighting? No, I know. A copy of Fantasia on DVD. Why? The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Every kid I know wanted to make brooms clean up for them, and when my magic developed, I wanted it even more. Even went as far as creating floods (completely accidentally, you’ve got to understand). But it kind of sums up how I dealt with magic as a kid.

Carlos Ramirez
Dresden Files (bookverse)
Word Count: 220

You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old

It’s the big family gatherings that are the hardest. My family is large – both my parents have four brothers and sisters each, and I’m the youngest of six. That adds up to an awful lot of nieces and nephews and cousins and whatever the hell comes after that.

The hard part is when I look around and see them all. Knowing that I’ll outlive each and every one of them. Not conceit. Fact.

You see, I’m a wizard. I’d say look me up in the phone book, but that’s actually a friend’s schtick. I tend not to advertise that way. The one thing about wizards is their life expectancy. Long doesn’t even really come close. Assuming I don’t die in this war we’re fighting – which is always a possibility, given how much time I spend on the front lines, I can expect to live around five hundred years, give or take a decade or two.

I’m twenty six now.

It’s all to do with how our cells work. Most people, when their cells renew after an injury, they degrade. Not with wizards. When their cells replicate, they produce a nearly perfect copy. Entropy eventually catches up on them, but not for a long time. So, long life.

That’s not to say I haven’t aged. Considering all I’ve been through, it’s not really surprising. War ages anyone, especially when you end up injured. Some of my family notice it, though they don’t say anything. To do that, they’d have to admit the danger in my life.

Instead, my nephews settle for pushing me into the water and watching me laugh at them. Memories that will last no matter how long I live.

Carlos Ramirez
The Dresden Files
Word count: 281