Other notable cocktails crafted by Rhiannon, inspired by Elsh's concoctions, include:
River's Kiss
The Poison Ring
Seaweed Knuckles**
Logic's Glance
The Yellow Jacket
** Inspired by Elsh's concoction 7:N002, one of Roman's favorites. It took Roman several weeks to filter out enough poison from the brewed shadow leaves (found deep in the bayou) while still keeping the essence and flavor of the drink. Even after filtering, Rhiannon was very affected by the delicious concoction, experiencing a barrage of wild visions, leading her afterwards to come up with the name. “Like getting punched in the metaphysical gut,” she had said to Roman. The cocktail has a rye whiskey base.
[8]
Roman Wing was not known by very many people, since he often couldn't be noticed by the normal eye. And of the people that did know who Roman Wing was, Mars was the only person who idolized him. Most likely this was due to the incredible stories that The Function would tell her when she was a child, after he'd saved her life and before he sent her to San Francisco. In Mars' eyes Roman Wing was one of the most important people in the city – so important, in fact, that the city owed its existence to him. The city did indeed owe its existence to him, but there are dozens of others who could claim the same, including both The Function and Scape, as well as Julius Marcos.
[9]
Also of note is that Louisiana was the last state to have a drinking age of 18, the federal government finally coercing it to raise it to 21 by cutting federal highway funds in 1987, though 18-year-olds could still buy alcohol because of a loop hole in the laws until 1995, when the loop hole was closed. Then in 1996 the drinking age was lowered back to 18 and then raised back to 21 three months later, the reason being part of a complicated plot executed by the Agents of Fateful Encounters to end the Napoleonic New Orleans War. For more information on the war, see The Agents of Fateful Encounters Volume VI.
[10]
Faubourg Marigny (faubourg an ancient French term meaning “suburb”, and Marigny pronounced Mare-i-knee), also called The Marigny, was originally a plantation owned by Bernard Marigny de Mandeville, a well known bon vivant and gambler. In the very beginning of the 19th century he began selling off lots of his property to the flocks of people coming to New Orleans from France and Haiti to escape the revolutions, as well as to others who were merely escaping less interesting cities.
[11] Shotgun Houses are plentiful in New Orleans. The houses are usually built one room after the other in a line with no hallway, so you walk room to room from the front of the house to the back. The name “shotgun house” is derived from the idea that you could open the front door, the back door and all doors in between and fire a shotgun through the entirety of the house without hitting anything. The idea is romantic, to be sure, but in practice it rarely actually works.
[12]
The Kingdom of Barataria was established by the brother pirates Jean and Pierre Lafitte in the early 19th century. South of New Orleans and close to the Gulf of Mexico, it consisted of a series of well defended islands that served as a haven for the pirates and a hell for slaves who were waiting to be taken up to New Orleans or to plantations to be sold. The Lafittes named their kingdom referencing the 17th century novel Don Quixote, written by Miguel de Cervantes. In the novel, Don Quixote's squire, Sancho Panza, is made governor of a place that doesn't exist – the island of Barataria. The brothers named their kingdom after this pretend place to make fun of the Spanish, who could not find their islands.
[13] Ichor is an old name for ghosts' blood. The word has come back into common use in the last few decades.
[14] Faulkner actually wrote several novels before writing Soldiers' Pay, all while working closely with The Agents of Karma. Faulkner had been romantically involved with one of the Agents, and those first novels were each heavily influenced by his love. Unfortunately the Agent's young life came to a brutal (yet honorable) end and Faulkner, out of devastation, burned all copies he could find of his novels before they could be published. A couple drafts of the novels can still be found traipsing the city of New Orleans under various guises, especially during Lundi Gras and the Spring Equinox. For more information see The Agents of Karma, Volume IV.
[15] Collectors can only be seen out of the corner of your eye – and even then they are barely more than blurry shadows. They are very disorienting to deal with, since you cannot face the one you are talking to and also see them. Some people, like Julius, watch them out of the corner of their eyes, while others close their eyes altogether so they can face the Collector they are having dealings with. The fact that they are so confusing to interact with physically is not helped by their language of riddles and jokes and made up words.
[16] Second Lines – small walking parades bursting with frivolity that suddenly appear out of nowhere. The dancing participants may be donning fancy clothes or strange costumes, occasionally waving handkerchiefs or parasols in the air and followed by brass bands. Many studies have been made of the strange occurrences, attempting to locate the origin point of these abnormalities – all of them having been inconclusive.
[17]
The first ghostly realm, oft merely called the Land of the Dead, is a layer atop the Land of the Living, like lettuce on top of an open faced sandwich. Ghosts and living beings can affect each other through the thin veil that barely keeps these two worlds separate. The second realm, sometimes called Necropolis, is a version of the city that the ghosts can actually affect and change. Ghosts can very easily fix up or tear down buildings, creating structures that have never and will never exist within the living version of New Orleans. Ever walk by a building that you swear would look better with a balcony jutting out of its flat front? Maybe there's a balcony there in Necropolis. Of course, a ghost does have to acquire the necessary permits and pay the required fees from the Ghostly Historic Preservation Board, which wants to keep Necropolis' visual aesthetic from getting out of control. That said, the ghostly version of the board is much more lenient and easier to work with than the version in the living world. The third ghostly realm shifts back and forth across all versions of the city, buildings constantly shifting between incarnations of themselves like some kind of chaotic dream. Normally, the only ghosts frequenting the third realm are insane, whether they were insane or not before inhabiting the realm. The fourth realm, or Tartarus Realm as most call it, is much calmer than the third realm. The buildings seem complacent and are mere shells of themselves, like shadows of all the actual buildings to ever inhabit that space. This is where ghosts go who want to end their existences and jump into Oblivion, or at least peer into it and contemplate for a spell.
[18]
/ˈnoizco/ noun – a nickname for the Noisician Coalition, which is a marching group originally created for the first Mardi Gras after Katrina. The members all wear red, white and black uniforms of their own making – some of them looking like surreal band uniforms, others like samurai or geisha or animals. The instruments are hand made by the members, consisting of drums made from trash cans and buckets, horns modified to never be in tune and electronic equipment fed into distortion pedals and amplified by megaphones. The result is a marching cacophony of noise and sirens and drum beats. Since their inception, the Noisician Coalition has participated in music festivals and many different parades. When they march down the streets you can bet that at least two handfuls of Collectors are right on their tail to gather up the Wonder growing from those watching them pass.
[19]
Some see Canal Street as a line running down the center of the city from which all the other streets branch off. Indeed each street will have one name if you turn right off of Canal and another name if you turn left. Royal Street to the right, Saint Charles to the left. Decatur to the right and Magazine Street to the left. This is why there are those who consider Canal to be the spine, with the other streets like ribs stretching out across the city to hold everything in place. From Canal the other streets
are given life. Canal is named, of course, for the underground canal that runs beneath the street, leading from the river to the cluster of cemeteries at the street's end. There is another street in the vicinity of the cemeteries called Canal Boulevard, but it is definitely a separate street, its involvement in the city a poorly documented case of revenge, impersonation and greed.
[20] Finding the door only works with Caribbean rum, as the person who created and resides in the establishment is originally from the islands. The rum reminds him where he came from – and sure, it also reminds him of pirates and slavery, but he's got a much more vile sense of humor than Julius.
[21] The Sisters – two sisters whose power in New Orleans (which is not restricted merely to the city's underworld) has grown immensely since the late 1700s, in no small part because of their trusted right-hand-man, Mr. Nimble. The Sisters are arguably the most powerful entities in the city, with strings tied to almost every sinister organization, though they are masters at covering their tracks and leaving their involvement nearly untraceable. They are so powerful that they hold a kind of medieval court at least once a week in The French Quarter, hearing the pleas of lesser entities and deciding whether or not to help them – and for what price. The Sisters are known and feared throughout the entire city, but Nimble is perhaps feared even more than them – for it is when they send him that people die and buildings burn, even when that is not necessarily The Sisters' intention. Rumors persist that The Sisters couldn't get rid of Nimble if they wanted to and that they barely even have control of him, but there are currently no facts to back this up.
[22]
Storyville was the red light district of New Orleans from 1897-1917. Created by the New Orleans City Council by Alderman Sidney Story, Storyville was a sixteen block area just outside The French Quarter where prostitution was legal. It was originally called The District, but soon the city began calling it Storyville after the Councilman who created it. Along with brothels, Storyville also had saloons and restaurants where several great jazz players got their start, including Buddy Bolden and Jelly Roll Morton. Storyville no longer exists as a static location, but rather moves about with the tide.
[23]
The following letter was published in the Times-Picayune on
March 16th, 1919:
Hell, March 13, 1919
Esteemed Mortal:
They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.
When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.
If you wish you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but His Satanic Majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don‘t think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.
Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with The Angel of Death.
Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:
I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.
Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fancy.
The Axeman
[24]
The term “neutral ground” is New Orleanian for the median of a street. It stems from the wars between the Spanish and French citizens in the early 1800s, when both sides called upon various voodoo priests and priestesses to ward the middle of select streets against violence, so that talks of peace and truce might be had. Many neutral grounds are lush with grass and plants and massive oak trees, adding to the splendor of the city.
[25]
The French Opera House was built in 1859 and served as a significant part of New Orleans culture for many years, holding not only opera performances but concerts and Mardi Gras balls as well. Many famous operas had their American premier at The French Opera House. The building was very large and stood on the upriver lakeside corner of Toulouse and Bourbon in The French Quarter, until it was destroyed by a fire in 1919 . It was designed by architect James Gallier, Jr., who, between himself and his father, James Gallier, designed some of the most prominent buildings in New Orleans.
[26]
The pinning of dollar bills onto someone's shirt or clothing on their birthday is a tradition in the city. It is not uncommon to see people wandering the streets, especially in the evening, with what looks like a corsage of bills bursting from their chest, and for random passerby to tell them “happy birthday” and possibly add a dollar to their collection. One reason floated around is that the person giving the dollar is essentially buying them a drink, stemming back to times when drinks were cheaper, which is why some people pin a five-dollar bill onto the person rather than a one-dollar bill. In actuality the tradition stems from a brief stint of disappearances in the 1850s, when people would vanish from their beds on the night of their birthdays as they slept. Somehow the disappearances were attributed to the Collectors, and people would give money to the birthday person so they could buy trinkets and candy and such to place around their bedroom as they slept, in hopes of distracting the Collectors from stealing them away. There is, of course, no evidence linking the disappearances to the Collectors, and the disappearances ceased as fast as they'd started, lasting in total about two years.
[27]
Crafted by Carthusian Monks in the Chartreuse Mountains of France since 1737, Chartreuse is an alcohol made with 130 herbs, plants and flowers. Tradition states that the alchemical recipe was given to the monks in 1605 by the then king of France, dubbed an “elixir of long life.” The secrets of the recipe are only known to a few monks at any one time. Also of note is that the color of the alcohol is chartreuse – but the color was named after this elixir, the color being named in 1884 . For more information about The Function's relationship to the elixir, please see the book detailing his life and accomplishments entitled “the episodes,” found in a wandering tent that is, at the time this volume is being put together, often set up in Jackson Square amidst the sea of tarot readers and artists and musicians.
[28]
The World Trade Center building was completed in 1967 and serves as an iconic part of New Orleans' cityscape, especially from the Mississippi. The building is 33 stories tall and at one time housed various foreign consulates as well as the Port of New Orleans. At the top is a large circular floor that slowly rotates, which housed a rotating restaurant called “Top of the Mart” from the '70s through 2001, then a club called “360” for several years after that.
[29]
The Old U.S. Mint, originally called Monnaie de La Nouvelle-Orléans (or The New
Orleans Mint) operated as a mint for the United States from 1838 to 1861, closing for the civil war and reconstruction, then opened once more from 1879 to 1909. Boasting steeped rooftops, large windows and iron-laced balconies, the three-story tall brick building stands between The French Quarter and the river. Since 1981 it has served as a branch of the Louisiana State Museum, holding all manner of powerful antiques and artifacts from the city's past, as well as hosting events such as concerts and lectures. Often one can find the large grassy courtyards around the mint adorned with food carts serving New Orleanian cuisine and stages filled with musicians, as the mint puts on a variety of festivals throughout the year.
[30]
Café du Monde was established in 1862 and has been the traditional spot to enjoy cafe au lait and beignets since its incarnation. A beignet (pronounced ben-yay) is a deep-fried square pastry that has an uncanny resemblance to a small pillow, and is served with two of its compatriots on a small plate after being doused with heaps of powdered sugar. Café du Monde sits at the end of Dutch Alley, just catty-corner from Jackson Square and the Saint Louis Cathedral. Most of the restaurant's seating is outside under a large covered roof, and often a band can be found on the sidewalk serenading the tourists and locals who are partaking of pastries and coffee.
[31]
The cross section of Dauphine Street and the train tracks which run along Press Street has historically been a weak spot between the land of the living and the worlds of the dead. It is because of this weak spot that trains are tasked daily to move back and forth along the tracks – for their engines are constantly burning pieces of wood from the original French Quarter (the one that burned down in the late 1700s), the smoke from which causes a chemical reaction that keeps resolidifying the ever-decaying border between these worlds. This system was theorized by The Scientist in the late 1800s, and enacted by Roman Wing in the 1920s.
The Axeboy's Blues (The Agents Of Book 1) Page 42
