((Yet another collaborative narrative. This occurred a few months before the wedding of Parz (Phillip) and Ebren, on a trip to England. Setting: Archaeological dig somewhere in Cornwall, England, where the grave of Parz' wife in his former life, Condwiramurs, has been discovered. Ebren's parts were written by VenkaFusion.))
Phillip parks the small roadster in a dirt-paved depression on the side of the road. Since the convertible's roof has already been stowed, he simply swings out of the vehicle, walking briskly to the other side to offer Sky a hand out. "Dr. Snow said the dig would be close by here. I hope they have not waited upon us for too long."
"I'm sure it's not a problem." She murmurs pensively, taking the hand with a thankful nod of her head. Sky delicately climbs out of the vehicle, deliberately not using powers to simply levitate.
Despite the warmth of the summer noontime sun, Phillip's hand is cold... perhaps a little colder than usual. He smiles faintly as he slowly leads the way down a small, trammeled path, into the woods. "Fortunately, her directions were quite good. I had feared we would be searching for it all day."
She follows, not letting go. Pensive and quiet for the last few hours, she takes in the surroundings without comment on his grasp. "Oh?"
"Aside from the American disorient with driving on what we consider to be the 'wrong' side of the road... I have never been that good a navigator on driving trips. Not that we ever took that many. Mom and Dad preferred to stay close to home. Still, there were the trips to Pawtucket for tests and the like." He shrugs, ducking under a low hanging branch while lifting it with his free hand.
She follows, ducking under his arm with another nod of thanks. "I suppose I would have been far more lost, regardless of what side I was driving on." The smile turns a bit rueful.
"Not exactly your home ground here, aye?" he asks, walking around a curve in the path. Far off, the faint hum of human voices can be heard.
She shakes her head mutely, looking a bit more tentative, and falls silent as they reach the clearing. Sky lets him take the lead.
His brow furrows as he glances back at Sky, but before he can ask, a rather stocky woman in straw hat and dirty work gloves steps out of one tent, in direct view. She examines the pair with a critical eye. "You're expected, are you?"
Phillip nods, bowing his head. "Ehm... aye. Phillip Astor, and Ebren Sutcliffe. We...."
The woman waves her hand, forestalling his finish. "Good enough. Anita Snow, Dublin University. I'm in charge of the dig. If you'll just wait here...." She ducks back into the tent, leaving Phillip simply shaking his head and giving Sky a helpless glance. Her hand tightens in his and she gives an encouraging nod that is meant to reassure him even if she looks uncertain. It only takes a minute before the doctor emerges, clunking the heels of her boots on the ground, one after the other, to settle her feet in them. "Right. So, I'm told this is... your wife's grave?" Her disbelief is evident.
Ducking his head a bit, he gives a small nod. "Aye. Her name is... was... Condwiramurs. Condwi." There is a hint of wistfulness in his tone.
"We already know that. Inscriptions on some of the grave goods," she explains crisply, but not unkindly. "This way, please." She begins a brisk pace toward the north side of the clearing. His eyes a bit wide, Phillip follows. Hesitant, Sky follows, relaxing her hand as though to let him pull away if he chooses. She peers this way and that in a nervous sort of way. He doesn't seem inclined to let go as he follows the doctor to a very large tent erected in the middle of a field. "We'd had some rain, so we put this up until we could get something sturdier to protect the site until we're done cataloging the artifacts." Phillip winces a bit at the last word. Dr. Snow gives no evidence of noticing, continuing with her talk. "We have materials for a steel shed that will arrive here later in the week. It'll keep her safe." Shedding her no-nonsense manner a moment, she asks, "If you don't mind, there's a favor I'll ask of you later?"
Eyes fixed on the tent, he gives her a distracted nod. Sky turns to listen, giving her full attention so that she can at least relay it later if he should miss something. "Right." The doctor gives a smart nod. "I'll leave you to it, then. Mind the stakes. We just laid out the grid last week, and we haven't had a chance to finish the mapping. I'd ask you not to touch anything, but under the circumstances...." Her voice trails off, and he seems to examine him critically again. "You have some very influential friends, Mr. Astor."
He blinks at her, uncomprehending. "Aye, I suppose," he remarks in a faint voice, stopping just ten feet outside the tent flap.
Another smart nod, and Dr. Snow turns to head toward the camp, calling back, "Just stop by when you're done."
Sky looks up at him and then at their destination, chewing on the corner of her lip. "Than-Thank you, Doctor." Her only answer to that is a wave as she walks back. Phillip stands there a few moments, jaw working, eyes squinted. There is a faint tremor in his fingers as he slowly walks toward the tent. He twitches the flap aside, then pauses.
The tent seems to exhale, a breath of stale, close air mixed with freshly turned dirt. Inside, the tent is somewhat dark, sunlight filtering in through small pinpricks of holes in the weave of the canvas. He stands there, just outside. She pauses, and looks down. Still chewing on her lip, she squeezes his hand tightly. << You can do this, Percival. >> She murmurs to his mind, a very quiet strength echoing her thoughts that is only for him.
He blinks, giving his head a very small shake, as if to clear it. Looking toward Sky, he gives her a small nod, then steps into the tent, just one pace, and letting the flap fall closed behind them, waits. Once their eyes adjust to the wan light, the contents of the tent become clear. Two tables are set up to one side, laden with pencils, rolls of twine, pieces of paper, clipboards, lanterns, and other detritus of academia. To the other side of the tent, there is a dark depression. Phillip finally drops Sky's hand, carefully walking to the table to pick up and click on one of the lanterns. The sudden bright light stings his eyes, and he shades them, waiting for them to adjust again. Sky hovers near the tent flap, inside but barely. She glances aside uncertainly and takes a few hesitant steps forward, stopping a pace or two behind him.
Licking his lips, he takes two slow steps toward the pit, hunkering down at the edge. His eyes closed, he lets his hand fall down toward the pit, so the light from the lantern illuminates the contents. << Can you... see anything? >> he asks, a hint of his stutter showing even in his mind voice.
Stakes ring the bottom of the pit, stringed with twine forming a grid over it. Brown, waxy bones lie underneath, still partially buried, the hints of bits of fabric or wood lying about them. Broken jewelry lies strewn around the skeleton, scattered beads and faceted gems glittering darkly. Sky swallows hard. << Yes, Phillip. >> She moves hesitantly to kneel beside him in the dirt, resting a hand in the loam. << She was buried richly. >> There is a hint of approval that she should be given a very proper and respectful burial.
He chews his lips a moment, giving a small, nervous nod. Finally, he opens his eyes, staring at the bottom of the pit for a full minute, before closing them again, sitting back rather hard and suddenly in the dirt. He covers his face with one hand. << I... I gave her that bracelet. Red amber. One of the beads... there was a piece of butterfly wing. >> His mind voice is oddly hollow.
Sky seems unsure of whether to leave him or move closer. She sets her hand closer to him and leans a bit closer to be available. Uncertain of what to say, she finally manages softly, << You were very good to her. >>
<< I tried to be. >> He doesn't accept the comfort, but he doesn't shy away, either. << I could not be there for her all the time, when we were first wed... there was too much to do. >> There is a faint sniffle. << I could not be there for her at her death, either. >> A feeling of despair wells up, spilling into the link. He pushes it back. << She loved amber. The way it smelled. It was her scent. >>
Her eyes flicker away thoughtfully for a moment, and she decides inwardly, which he can likely sense, that he is not asking for comfort because he feels he does not deserve it. She determines otherwise and scoots a little closer, drawing him into an embrace that is gentle and careful. << Would that I could have known her. You were there as much as you could be, Phillip. Your times did not allow for more. >>
His thoughts seem to have a brittle edge to them. Closing his eyes, he concentrates, forming an image of a woman. She is rather robust, almost Castilian in the dark cast of her skin and hair, dressed in a yellow homespun gown decked with beads of amber about the neck. There is a pang when the image is complete, and a small sob escapes him. << Condwi. >> Love, powerful and heartbreaking, attends the picture, though his expression shows little outward sign.
Sky chokes on a sob and stifles it, turning her face away. Her own emotions she tries to keep away, confusion and sympathetic pain shoved deep in the pits of her mind. Struggling to find words, she manages almost silently, << She was so beautiful. >> Conflicted and hurting for him, she simply sits, holding him.
His hand drops from his face, lighting on Sky's arm. He stares into the pit for long minutes, thoughts carefully blocked. There are no tears, only a faint roughening of his breath, the occasional small sob in it. Finally, << Aye. She... was. >> A strange sense of resignation comes over the link. He leans forward, fingers tentatively stroking the skeleton's upper arm bone. << Condwi, >> his voice comes back, sounding a bit different. Older. Care-worn. << Condwi, my angel, this is Ebren. >> There is no answer. He doesn't seem to expect one.
The choked sob becomes a silent stream of tears as she looks down, drawing in tremulous breaths. The silence, which scares her, turns to a worried sort of resignation, and then a very deliberate sympathy. << Hello. >> She speaks softly, though clearly not to him. << Thank you. >>
A few more minutes pass, and he sits there, still touching the skeleton, chewing his lips. Turning to look at Sky, he gives a small, nervous nod, and begins to scoot away from the pit. Sky releases him, and just looks down. She murmurs something in a breath too silent to be heard and closes her eyes, still crouched there. He stands, walking with exaggerated care toward the worktables. The lantern is clicked off, and put back in its place. Slowly, he moves toward the tent opening, carefully opening the flap. Standing just inside, he waits, holding it open. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she murmurs one last thing before standing. A maelstrom of emotions churns, and she tamps it down, stubbornly pushing it away. Her ire at herself for being so tumultuous is nearly tangible, and she studies the ground as she ducks the tent flap and steps out into the air.
He follows behind, gently laying one hand on her shoulder, which drifts down to her hand, grasping it. << If... it is all right... Dr. Snow will be expecting to speak to me. >> His mind voice is rather clipped, precise, as if concentrating on each syllable before speaking it. << I fear I will not be able to. If you could... >>
She squeezes his hand and nods. << I shall attend, Phillip. It's alright. >> Without looking up, she briefly kisses the back of his hand and then turns to find the doctor, releasing him. Tears pushed down, she sets her shoulders and forces herself to be calm and able, for his sake.
<< Meur ras, >> he answers, tone subdued. Taking a deep breath, he walks toward the camp.
In the clearing, Dr. Snow stands over a table next to a lanky, sunburned youth with black hair. Both of them look up at Phillip and Sky's approach. As the young man drops his sunglasses from the top of his head to his eyes, the doctor sizes up the pair. "Done with your business?" Phillip gives a small nod, expression flat. "You're wondering about the favor. I'll be brief. It's not often we have a family's permission for burials of this age. I'd like yours. Formal permission, to continue the dig, and study the contents. Not that we'd need it to continue, but to avoid any future issues regarding this site." She pauses, waiting for his answer.
<< She will have it, >> he tells Sky, << provided for one thing. When she finds the red amber bead... I want it. >>
Sky looks up at him finally and then back at the woman. "You have permission. There is a minor condition. There was a bead, in the amber necklace. It contains a butterfly wing within the amber. It was red. We would like it returned." She speaks softly and earnestly, but firmly, her accent a bit thicker for being so formal. Her thoughts inquire as to if she asked correctly. He gives a small nod of confirmation, and the doctor gives the two of them yet another shrewd look.
It's a few moments before she speaks. Her lips pursed, she gives a smart nod, then holds up one finger. "We will examine and photograph it, should it be found, then it will be sent to you. I trust I can contact you through the same channels that sent you to me?"
Phillip pauses, then reaches into his pocket, plucking out a small white card, which he offers to the doctor. << Channels take too long. >> The card contains his address and e-mail. << Please tell her that I wish to be contacted _when_ it is found, and when it is ready to be shipped. >>
Sky relays quietly, "We should like to be contacted thus when it is found. The photography and examining will of course be fine, as the same channels that we have connected through will, I am sure, be happy to see any findings on it." She looks back evenly, implying firmly that any attempts to slide the object past without turning it over will be found out. "Miss Steward is very interested in your work here, and I'm sure will be intently involved. Perhaps her resources could be of aid to you." The last is mildly added, perhaps to soften the vague threat.
"That's acceptable. I'll have documents forwarded to you soon." Dr. Snow takes the card, placing it in one of the many pockets of her photographer's-style vest. "If there's nothing else...?" she asks expectantly. Phillip pauses, then shakes his head. "I'm sorry I can't see you out. Take care." With that, she turns back to her work, along with her young associate.
Reaching for Sky's hand, he turns in the direction of the parked roadster.
Giving the woman's back a cross look, Sky turns away and slips her hand into his to follow him out. Her eyes scan the ground as they leave, pensive and quiet. The maelstrom is momentarily quieted by her irritation at the lack of respect, but it remains there under the surface.
<< Very... pragmatic, >> he observes, the only thing he says on the matter as they make their way back to the car. There is still a faint tremble in his hand as he holds hers, releasing only when they finally reach the car and Sky goes to take her seat. He opens the door this time, sliding into his own. The key is placed in the ignition, but he doesn't start the car, instead leaning back on the seat, neck bent over the headrest so that he's staring up at the sky. Sky stares at her lap silently. Her thoughts, ever active, chase themselves in circles getting bigger and more fearsome until she forces them down and tries to look away from them. She is silent as though afraid to disturb him. He inhales deeply, then sighs, shading his eyes with one hand. << I fear I will not be sleeping well for a time. >> His other seeks for Sky's hand. << I still love her, keresik. I always will. And I love you. Thank you, for bearing this. >>
Her hand finds his and she squeezes her eyes shut. There are a few false starts as her emotions threaten to overwhelm her, then, << I could do no less. >>
He doesn't move for a few moments. Then, a faint, sad smile appears at the familiar sentence. Phillip nods, giving her hand a small squeeze before sliding his away. The car is started, and he pulls onto the asphault.
Links to my Virtueverse crap
((Yay for Heroid, and nice bitz, Morv and Venka. 
))
There are no words for what this community, and the friends I have made here mean to me. Please know that I care for all of you, yes, even you. If you Twitter, I'm MrThan. If you're Unleashed, I'm dumps. I'll try and get registered on the Titan Forums as well. Peace, and thanks for the best nine years anyone could ever ask for.
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(Yes, you read correctly. Flea has a pet kitten.)
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((Sounds more like the kitten has a pet Flea. ))
"Dad, are you tough?"
The question took Sailor by surprise, and he looked up from the game on TV. "I'm tougher'n most people Bry. Why?"
His 11 yr old looked at him with honest wonder. "And your strong too, right?" He anxiously asked.
Where the HELL is this going? Sailor wondered. "Yes, I'm pretty strong. Again why the questions?"
Bryan spits it all out in a rush: "Well if you're strong and tough, then why aren't you a superhero? Most people who are are pretty strong and tough and aren't you always telling us to do our best and help each other and other people?"
Sailor just looks at him, his thoughts immediately go to the costume hidden in the work van. Could his secret be out that easily?
"Well monkey, I'd like to help, but I have Pam and you kids to look after as well. That's a pretty full-time job right there."
"Maybe you can be a weekend superhero!" Bryan laughed. Sailor grabbs him and gives him a big hug and tickles him. "Oh yeah? Maybe I should move us to the Rogue Isles and be a super villain! BWAHAHAHA!"
Giggling, Bryan gasps, "What powers, eh?" Sailor continues the assault. "Why, the power of the tickle of course! None shall stand before me, for I am, THE TICKLER! Fear me!"
Finally spent, he rolls the boy onto the floor. Bryan recovers his breath and looks somber for a moment, "You're just kidding, right Dad?"
Sailor looks at him, "Yeah Bry, I'm just kidding. I like it right here." "Okay, cool." and Bryan wanders out of the room.
Sailor goes back to watching the game, a slight smile playing across his lips.
You've got to pick up every stitch,
You've got to pick up every stitch,
You've got to pick up every stitch,
Mm, must be the season of the witch,
Must be the season of the witch, yeah,
Must be the season of the witch.
-Donovan
Tess pirouetted in midair above the pond.
All around her, wisps frolicked and flew, responding to and mimicking her movements.
She danced and chased after them
She laughed and sang
She loved this time of year. Autumn. The season of changes.
The air turned crisp and cool. The leaves changed from green to colours of fire.
It was the time for All Hallows Eve Samhain - the time of the year when the realm of spirits touched this earthly plane and when magic was most potent
It was the month of her birth. The seventh daughter of a seventh daughter
Born a witch to a witch
There was a time shed hated that word. There was a time that being branded as such had cost her her life
Now, she reveled in it. Just as she reveled in nature around her.
Croatoa was a magical place so much like the home she remembered
And now, so close to Halloween, Tess felt more alive than ever.
She had a love in her life
a spectre of Delphine materialized and began to dance with her
She had a family to raise and cherish
illusions of beloved Billy, Erik, Jericho, Amelia, Uldi, Seishuku, and so many others
all appeared from thin air to celebrate with her.
She was beginning to come into her own, finally, after all this time - flourishing.
It was, after all, her season
The season of the witch.
Georgia to Ireland. Ireland to Georgia. Science to magic. Magic to science.
Ben Kirby-Love was shuffled around the circle for weeks. From Thomas O'Donnellon's biotech/cybernetics lab in Tralee, to Granpa Frank's in Georgia for tests, to Miss Eovyn's study in Maggie's Rock-Ireland, to a remote castle in England where lived the World's Greatest Alchemist, Ben's life was changing fast. But the changes in his body were nothing compared to the one change that nobody -- except Miss Eovyn and Granma Kirby -- would talk to him about. He visited the grave every day.
But he still talked to Mommy. She was always there, since the night of the Dream. She had given him a destiny, and when somebody gives you a destiny, then they never really go away.
All the books he had read and the movies movies he had seen taught him that.
So he accepted everything that was done to him, because it was his destiny. He listened and learned all of the magic Miss Eovyn taught him, because it was his destiny.
"Ye've a lon', lon' life ahead o' ye, Ben. Yer gonna grow up t' be a great man, who does great thin's. An' I'll be watchin' ye each an' ever'day."
He would not disappoint her.
Pop and Peggy greeted Ben at the teleporter in Maggie's Rock-Paragon City. Pop wanted to spend Halloween with him, and he did. Ben was still uncomfortable around Peggy, not because he didn't like her, and in fact he loved her very much and shared with her a love for books that had somehow bypassed his father. No, he was uncomfortable around her because -- being Margaret Love from another dimension -- she looked exactly like his mommy.
He started crying as soon as he saw her. She started crying too. Neither knew what to do about this particular problem, so Peggy, despite her injured ribs, just sat on the floor, took him in her arms, and began singing:
Oh my life is changing everyday
in every possible way
And oh my dreams
it's never quite as it seems
Never quite as it seems.
I know I felt like this before
But now I'm feeling it even more
Because it came from you.
Her voice when she spoke did not sound at all like his mommys, but when she sang, she sounded very much like her, which made them both cry all the more.
"Geez, Peggy, yer' makin' 'im cry worse..."
Peggy stopped the song, looked up at her husband, and said, "He needs to cry." Then she began another verse.
Ben listened and wept, and didn't mind a bit that her tears were falling on his hair.
Rhonda stood fuming at the check in counter. Oh she wasn't upset about being there, she had finally been stable long enough that Dr. Majias thought it would be safe for her to leave Paragon City for a short time, without the biweekly trips to the genetic restabilizer in order to realign her rebellious DNA that kept trying to unravel on her. She was going back home, back to Florida. Oh she had to carry a couple pounds of medical gear with her, genetic analyzer, and a prototype portable restabilizer incase it dipped below 80 percent stable, but that was minor. She hadn't been home since the incident that gave her her powers, and took away her normal life. Looking down at the tag hanging on a lanyard around her neck however was the only fly in the ointment. She'd battled Dr. Vhazilok, fought giant monsters menacing the city, rescued people from certain death, and even went along with some other heroes to another earth to battle Tyrant!
But still...according to Delta Airlines, she was an unaccompanied minor...and had to have supervision until she and her brother were delivered safely to their grandparents at the Tallahassee airport. She sighed looking out the window, the airport was far enough outside of the city that only the top of the warwalls protecting it (or the rest of the country from Paragon City) could be seen in the distance. Her parents were using the chance to be rid of their kids for a week as a chance to take a trip to Hawaii, which meant unfortunately that the other bane of her existence was sitting five feet away, her little brother Jake. At least he had his own friends he was looking forwards to seeing at home, so shouldn't be in her hair too much. In theory anyway. He was currently absorbed in some video game on his GameBoy, she didn't get much into them herself, usually the last thing she wanted after coming home was more excitement. They had arrived a bit late for their flight due to school, getting out during the school year was usually hard but exceptions were allowed at times, they both had homework with them to keep them up to speed. Usually unaccompanied kids like them boarded first, but after a moment with their Delta chaperone checking them in they were heading down the jetway. A few folks stared at her, it 's not like she had a secret identity or anything, rather impossible in her case. As they stepped onto the 757, their agent checked in with the stewardess to see where their seats were. Rhonda knew already, row 50 something back towards the tail. As she waited for the aisle to clear she noticed a man in his late 30's in first class staring at her. Starting to head back towards their seats in the cheap section the man spoke up.
"Excuse me, but aren't you Polekitty?"
Rhonda was glad the black fur covering her kept her from obviously blushing, as she nodded "uh, yeah Ah am."
He smiled "you probably don't remember me, but a few weeks ago there was a law office in Talos Island that was being attacked by those Council goons."
Her face brightened as she remembered "That's right, you had two of those warwolves pinning you in your office when we got there"
He nodded as he stood up, turning to the stewardess "they can have our seats Ma'am, we'll sit in back instead."
Rhonda started to protest when he held up his hand
"no, if it wasn't for what you and your friends did, my partner and i would have been dead. the least we can do is let you have our seats." With that the two lawyers got their carryons and swapped boarding cards with the flight attendant, heading towards the back. Rhonda tried to slink down in the very comfortable first class seat as the rest of the passengers boarded, embarrassed by the attention. Jake on the other hand immediately started playing with the built in DVD viewer and all the other fancy features of the seat.
"wow, that was pretty cool, getting these seats. you need to save rich lawyers more often-oww! what was that for?" he grumped as he rubbed his rib where her elbow had jabbed him good.
"For being a doofus. now put your seat belt on."
He grumbled but complied, his ferret like attention soon captured by watching the ground crew out the window. Glancing at her watch she sighed, 3 hours to Atlanta, hour there, and another hour and a half to Tallahassee she had to put up with him till their grandparents picked them up. It was gonna be a long trip.
Perez Park used to scare the hell out of him. He would never have admitted it, but that was the truth. Now, though he was wary of the danger, he also understood that fear must never be in control. Miss Eovyn had taught him that when she took him to one of the Dark Places that only the Fae folk knew of. Now Perez Park, though dangerous, was just another part of the city that needed someone to help reclaim it. It was a good place for him to practice his skills.
Ben, invisible, stood only a few feet from a mob of Hellions. He stretched his mind out, his young will, and sought out one among the them that he could influence easily. It surprised the entire group when their fellow gang-member began swinging at them with a wild fury. When guns were drawn, he caused a flashes of light to blind them, and when they started shooting wildly, he made them all think they were wounded and their will to fight diminished until they laid down, assuming they were going to soon bleed to death.
Ben laughed and tagged them for the Zig.
Before he could continue in his patrol, he sensed a familiar presence, and looked toward the security gate. There stood Amelia, the most beautiful girl in the world, and her boyfriend, Jericho. Amelia looked surprised when the invisible kid ran up and threw his arms around her.
"Hello, Ben." Jericho could see him. That "third-eye" thing.
Ben held on to Amelia, and fought back more tears (he would have to stop crying if he was going to stay in the city), as he said, "I missed you!" Then he realized Jericho had greeted him, and continued, "Um... both of you."
He became visible and waved his arms around saying, "Look!"
Amelia was still getting over the invisible hug, and with his flailing she failed to see what he was showing her.
"Okay," she said, "I'm looking."
"Loooooook." He continued waving his arms, now even more frantically.
Jericho had already realized what he was getting at. "His arms," he said, "They look normal."
Ben stopped waving his arms and held them still as he smiled.
Amelia blinked as she looked at pink skinny, little-boy arms where once there had been large, bulky titanium arms and hands.
"Er, it's not one of those costume-holograph type things, is it?" she asked.
"Nope," Ben replied, "A little science and technology and then some alchemy on the subatomic level. At least that's how Mr. O'Donnellon 'xplained it."
Then he went on to explain how Thomas O'Donnellon had used nano-bots to reconstruct synthetic arms and legs for him, then how he had been taken to England, to the ancestral home of one Burke Greely, the alchemist who changed the synthetic matter into organic matter...
None of it really made sense, but it worked and that was the main thing.
And he showed them one more thing: The "birthmark" that had not been there before, but which his mother had bestowed upon him in a dream -- the shape of her lips on his forehead where she kissed him one last time.
Then he continued his tale: "Miss Eovyn says I can walk in two realms. She says I got that from my Pop."
"Walk in...huh?"
"She took me to see... um... I'm not supposed to talk about that."
"The Faerie Realm?" Jericho guessed.
"Shhh! Don't say that! And um... no... not exactly. But I can't tell you exactly." He looked at Amelia with a grave seriousness and said, "No matter how much you ask. No matter how bad you want to know. I can never, ever tell you."
"Okay," Jericho shrugged.
Amelia nodded solemnly, stifling an urge to laugh.
"Even if we grow up and get married, I couldn't even tell you then."
"I'm not marrying you Ben," Jericho said straight faced.
Amelia could hold back no longer and burst out laughing.
Ben blushed deep red and said with a voice full of desperation, "I was talking to Ameeeelia!"
They laughed and talked a few more minutes, and Ben found that he really did miss even Jericho.
Then a stray thought began to tickle Ben's brain like a feather in his ear.
"Um... I have to go."
Amelia canted her head and looked at him, as if to say, "You're still you, but you're different."
What she said to him was simply, "Okay, but be careful."
He looked at her with all the solemnity his ten-going-on-eleven-year-old's face could muster and said, "I will. I have powers you can't begin to understand."
((Clobber-Girl, out of Action for a while 
))
"Three cracked ribs, a broken nose, slight concussion... " the doctor paused, raising his eyebrow as he looked at me "...you didn't go solo against a Titan, did you Miss Summers?"
There it was, the question I was hoping nobody would ask.
"No... just an... old friend."
"A friend did this to you?"
He wasn't buying it, why would he?
"The sparring session got a little out of hand..."
"Out of hand? I've seen heroes return from Sirens Call with less injuries than this, Miss Summers."
"...it got out of hand." I told him firmly, hoping he would drop the subject.
"Well, far be it from me to comment Miss Summers, but you're out of action for the foreseeable future. 3-6 weeks at least."
It hurt to frown, but I did it anyway. The Doctor gave me that disapproving look they love to give heroes when they overstretch themselves.
"Next time, Miss Summers, try having your friends show a little more restraint."
"Sure... restraint."
The Doctor left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. How comforting. After lending Noisemaze the $500 I'd set aside for books and other supplies, my College work was going to be next to non-existant. Then there was Claire, was she even going to make it back? She said everything was going to be fine. How was I supposed to beleive her? She didn't tell me about Carrie assaulting her at the airport, it was hard enough getting her to admit she was ill. Two could play that game. Next time she calls, I'm not going to mention this. For her sake. No need for her to worry, I could get through this on my own. I'm going to get through this on my own.
I coughed, the sharp pain from my ribs reminding me again exactly why I was here. They say bad things always happen in threes. Well, this was 3. Nothing else could go wrong now. I hoped nothing else would go wrong.
(( Aww... :/ Poor Tera.
And secrets-keeping, always the key to a healthy relationship. 
))
The communicator in Claire Pachowski's hand clicked on. Well, her hero name was lit up as being on duty. So, as Emo Catgirl, she'd be responsible for patrolling the various trouble zones where she would be needed. She scrolled through the names and sighed. She was on patrol, and so was her big brother, Back Yard Boom. She wanted the others to appear as well. She sighed again, and closed her communicator.
"Whatcha gettin' mopey 'bout?" Boomer asked.
"Nothing," Claire said.
"I heard ya sigh," Boomer said.
"Did not."
"Ya sighed," Boomer reiterated. "What's eatin' ya?"
"It's nothing. I was just wondering when the others would show up for patrol," Claire said.
Boomer looked out over the roof of the Paragon Police Department HQ. "They'll be along soon, don't worry."
"I wish he-- they'd hurry up," Claire said.
"Ya wish who'd hurry up?"
"Whoever's supposed to go on patrol with us, Tommy."
"No no, I get the feelin' yer waitin' fer a specific person," Boomer said. "So, who is he? It ain't Nature Boy, is it? He's got enough girls as it is."
"No."
"M-2?"
"No."
"Echo Dolphin?"
"No," Claire repeated in her "Stop bothering me!" tone of voice.
"Gravity Scout, maybe? Warlock Boy?"
"No!" Claire grumbled.
"Could it be... Stateslad?"
Claire attained a silence matched only by a snow-covered grave. Back Yard Boom grinned.
"My little sister is crushin' on her group leader."
"I am NOT!" Claire said, unsure if all the white facepaint was hiding how furiously she was blushing or not.
"Claire's got a crush, Claire's got a crush," Boomer said in the traditional annoying singsong voice.
There was a popping noise as Emo Catgirl's claws extended from her gauntlets. She charged at her big brother.
"You take that back, Tommy Pachowski!" Claire said as she tackled her laughing brother to the ground.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Sometimes, you rp a scene and you find yourself drawn into the characters and immerse yourself in the world you play in. At those times, it's almost more like a dream than a game. It's magic.
The dialogue in the following has hardly been touched. I only framed it a little. And to be honest, I think Kid Leech's emotes were better at indicating her mood than my exposition is. Kid Leech (Amelia), you are awesome!))
Ben had been ecstatic when he'd found Jack swimming near his mommy's rock in Gemini Park. Aunt Tess had been happy for him too, even if she had looked at Jack as if she didn't recognize him. Of course Jack wasn't his usual self. He was small and green and looked and acted just like a frog. But Ben was sure it was Jack.
Since coming back to Paragon City, Ben had learned a lot about his new abilities. Papa Smersh had helped him and watched over him. His big sister, Cassie, had taken him out to Perez Park so that he could test his powers on the lake monsters.
Pop had been spending more time with him than before, not only taking him out on patrols, but also just sitting around watching movies and playing games. Ben liked that.
He also liked coming to the park and sitting where his mommy used to sit. Sometimes he would cry, but sometimes he would think about good times with her and Billy and Flower, playing tag under the trees, running around the grownups to hide, and maybe fighting some bad guys every now and then. On days he felt like crying, he would usually sit invisible.
On the day he had found Jack, Amelia, the prettiest girl in the world, came to the park to see him.
"Ben," she said, "Could we talk a little bit?"
"Sure," he said, elated that she wanted to talk with him without "Jer" around.
"Shall I leave thee alone?" Aunt Tess asked. Then without waiting for an answer, she gave them a calm reassuring smile and said, "I should away home anyway. Blessed be, children."
Then she stood, hugged Ben goodbye and left them alone to speak.
"Um... is it all right if Jack hears?" He patted his pocket and the frog in it responded with a "ribbit".
Amelia shrugged. "Er, sure. Jack's fine."
"Um... what do you want to talk about?"
Amelia shuffled her feet for a moment as her thoughts flashed across her face. Finally she said, "You, er, don't really like Jericho much, do you?"
"Um... He's... all right, Ben answered, as honestly as he could without hurting Amelias feelings.
"You can tell me if you don't."
"Well... he's not mean to me or anything."
"But, er
Amelia began, then said to more to herself than to Ben, Sheesh, I had this kinda worked out, and now I'm forgetting what I was going to say."
From his Bens pocket came a "ribbit".
Amelia shook her head. "I didn't mean that. Just it seems kinda tense when both of you are around."
"Oh, Ben was starting to worry. Um... does Jericho not like me?"
"No. He would tell me if he didn't."
"Um... do you not like me?"
Speechless, Amelia could only blink.
His worry became apparent on his face as he waited.
It wasnt that she had to think about the answer. It was more that she had to think about the question.
"Why would you think that? Of course I like you."
"Um... I like you too."
Ben blushed and Amelia tried her best not to notice it.
"Um... I think you're pretty." He blushed even more.
"Erm..."
"I've seen fairy girls and pixies and I think you're prettier than all of them." Ben Kirby-Love really, really blushes...
From Bens pocket, "ribbit".
Amelia blushed nervously, "Er, thanks."
"Um... I..." he began, struggling for the resolve to say what he wanted to say.
"...Yeah?"
"I... want to marry you when I grow up. But..."
A subtle change crossed Ben's face like the first hints of autumn on the trees. Thoughts that had been swirling for weeks now coalesced and congealed into truths that he had never even considered before. He was going to live a long, long time, maybe a thousand years or more. His mommy was already gone. His friends at least most of them would go too, before him.
He was going to live a long, long time.
"...that won't be for a hundred years.
Amelia looked as if she wanted to say something a couple times, but didnt. Instead, she straightened her glasses.
"That won't work, will it?" Ben asked, and it was not so much a question, but an answer.
"Er, no, not really."
Ben frowned as he considered his options. He bit his lip, looked down at his feet for a moment, then looked up at her with a stoicism that belied his little boy face.
"Can I still be in love with you, even if I'm never old enough to marry you?"
Again, Amelia was speechless. All she could do was blink.
"Heroes always need somebody to be in love with, he explained. Bogey had Bacall. The Duke had Maureen O'Hara. Even Don Quixote had Dulcinea. Can I have you?"
Silence. Blinking.
"Nobody has to know."
Amelia wondered how the conversation got so far out of control so quickly. "I, er...I mean..."
"I'll always just be in love with you and you can grow up and marry Jericho if you like."
Really, she had just wanted to talk to him, to get him to see her as a big sister instead of a crush. Apparently, it was beyond a crush now.
"And if you're happy, he continued, I'll be happy and it will be like a sad movie."
She didnt know what to say, so she said, as honestly as she could without hurting his feelings, "I can't really tell you who to love or not."
His ten-going-on-eleven- year-old face looked up to her with heartbreaking earnestness. "You don't have to do anything. You can pretend I'm not there."
Kid Leech shakes her head. "Why would I want to pretend that? That youre not here."
Ben shrugged.
"Just because I love somebody else doesn't mean I don't like you."
Ben nodded. "Okay. I can love you and you can like me. And at the end of the movie, I can ride off like in Shane."
Amelia nodded back blankly.
"And you can stay with who you love, and I can go fight so the one you love don't get killed. That'll work!"
"Ribbit".
Amelia readjusted her glasses. "Er, yeah. I guess that does kinda work."
Ben pumped his fist, saying, "Yes! I have a not-girlfriend!" Then he paused. "Don't tell Jericho. I don't think he'll understand. He'll think I'm weird."
"Yeah. I don't think he'd get it. Amelia sighed, and remembered what she originally wanted to talk to Ben about. Er, really what I wanted to say was that you and Jericho both mean a lot to me, and I kinda wished you'd get along better."
"Um..." Ben looked for the right words, the exact sentiment that would communicate his answer. Then he remembered a movie about the kind and gentle Wesley, and his Princess Buttercup, and knew his answer.
He said, "As you wish."
Amelia canted her head and looked at him closely. No. This wasnt the same little boy who had gone off to live in Ireland with his mother. It wasnt even the broken-hearted child who had gone away just after Ireland Loves death. This was someone just a little bit more grown up.
"Um... I'm gonna go watch movies with Jack now. Um... if you wanna come, you can."
Frog, "Ribbit".
"Er, sure...and I can try to figure out what just happened."
Ben Kirby-Love smiled. "Okay! Um... and you can invite Jericho to come too. But no kissing in my room!"
Amelia rolled her eyes. He might have changed, but he was still Ben.
((Heroid, I hate you. I think I write fairly well, and then you post these amazing stories and I think, "Damn, how can I compete with that?"
Your stories are amazing, and I love reading them.
Btw, the hating part. I lied.))
[ QUOTE ]
((Heroid, I hate you. I think I write fairly well, and then you post these amazing stories and I think, "Damn, how can I compete with that?"))
[/ QUOTE ]
((Myeh. If it was a competition alot of you guys would have already put me out of the race. I mean... Everybody knows that Plasma Stream is really Kurt Busiek and Sid is Gail Simone.
And as far as that last story-post, Kid Leech actually wrote half of it, even is she didn't know it at the time. ))
((Sid is not Gail Simone. Someone else is. We all know that. Sid is Sid, and we love her. As for what I'm writing... well, not quite domestic, but it is short.))
Unnoticed by all but NASA and those who love the stars at night, a sword falls from the sky, the second time the starmetal it was forged from has done so. It glows with inner light as it heats... but it survives, as it has survived so much else.
It falls, guided, towards the city of Paragon. And it can not be stopped. It passes through building ruins, and craters the arm of a forged monstrosity, ruining the deathblow it was about to strike, in passing. And then it strikes ground, and comes to a stillness, buried beneath a War Wall, there to stay, under force field and concrete, buried in stone.
Three fleur de lis forged into the blade still glow, long after the steel itself has cooled.
The Maid will be found. After all, the world needs a champion.
PERC Supporter
La Pucelle (BS/SR)
Miseria Bella (Sonic/Dark)
Wrangler Annie (SS/Elec)
Coldsmoke (Ice/Dark)
Saber Maid (BS/Regen)
and others...
[ QUOTE ]
((Sid is not Gail Simone. Someone else is. We all know that. Sid is Sid, and we love her. As for what I'm writing... well, not quite domestic, but it is short.))
[/ QUOTE ]
((So that means that Plas really is Kurt Busiek?
And as for what you wrote -- it might be short, but it surely is sweet, and I'm looking forward to what follows! ))
Hephaestus 1 sat in front of the tv watching the Bears squeak out another win when he decided to give his mother a call. He hadn't spoken to her since he called her on her birthday, but that was back in May. So, he pulled a length of phone cord out and plugged it into the secure phonejack in the back of his cybershell's head.
"Hi, Mom! It's Mick!"
...
"Mick. Your son Mick."
...
"Oh come on, Mom..."
...
"Don't give me that line, Mom. You said you'd call back and you never did."
...
"Mom..."
...
"Mom..."
...
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."
...
"Yes, I'm still your little shnoogums."
...
"And I love my mother very much."
...
"And, wait. I called to tell you something. I met someone. I'm dating again!"
...
"No, Mom, it's a woman."
...
"No, really. She's all woman."
...
"What do you mean how do I know? I'm almost 47, Mom, I know what women look like!"
...
"Yes, I checked."
...
"I'm sorry--"
...
"But you asked how I could tell--"
...
"Mom."
...
"Mom..."
...
"MOM! Cut it out! This is a good thing."
...
"Yes, Mom, I'll go to Confession."
...
"Yes, yes, treating the body like an amusement park ride is not--"
...
"What do you mean stop mocking you? You ALWAYS say that! You started saying it after that one episode of Seinfeld!"
...
"Okay, I'll go."
...
"I said I'll go!"
...
"Sorry, Mom."
...
"Do you want to hear about her?"
...
"Well, she's an alien."
...
"No, not the using-you-for-a-green-card alien, Mom. I already learned that lesson."
...
"Yes, the flying saucers type."
...
"She's not a Rikti."
...
"Because Rikti are weird looking."
...
"I'll have you know that Doctor Nambu won a great design award for this body!"
...
"Her name's Shava. She's a Kilian."
...
"No, Mom, she's not Irish."
...
"Honest, she's not Irish."
...
"Because the Irish never settled outer space, Mom."
...
"Look, just because Granny said she'd gone to outer space and met a man named Zan-Darr O'Herlihy doesn't mean she really did."
...
"No, Mom. We are not the descendants of Space Irishmen."
...
"Granny told you that so you'd go to bed."
...
"You were four years old, Mom. You asked her where babies came from."
....
"It was 1944. It's not like she'd tell you back then! So she made up a story about the Space Irishmen bringing you from Heaven."
...
"You do not have proof."
...
"No, Mom, that's not proof of the Space Irish. That's a macaroni poster of the Moon Landing."
...
"I made it when I was 9."
...
"No, it's not a relic of the Space Irish, Mom. Look at the back of it. What does it say there?"
...
"That's right. Mickey O'Flannagan, Mrs. Gunderson's class, September 1969."
...
"I did not steal a priceless cultural treasure and fob it off as my own, Mom."
...
"Okay, so she does have red hair."
...
"And a fine coat of reddish-brown fur to go with it."
...
"We've been over this, Mom. She's female."
...
"She also has a tail."
...
"For one, it's prehensile, for another it's attached at the base of her spine."
...
"Her eyes? Gold and kind of fox-like."
...
"Yes, pointy ears."
...
"No, Mom, Doctor Spock was the guy who gave bad baby advice. Mister Spock was on Star Trek."
...
"No, Mom. She's not Catholic."
...
"Mom..."
...
"Mom! She's not Episcopalian, either!"
...
"How could her family be from Ulster? She's NOT IRISH!"
...
"No, Mom, there aren't Space Northern Irish as well."
...
"Look, I'll send you some pictures. That'll prove it."
...
"Yes, it will show that she's Shava, a Kilian, not Sean A. Killian."
...
"I don't care if Sean's single, Mom, I'm straight! I'm pretty sure he is, too!"
...
"Oh."
...
"Really?"
...
"He did? Well that proves it, then. I could never date someone who moved to the North Side."
...
"Right, so you don't have to worry about explaining too much to your friends at the Parish Altar Society meetings. The pictures will help, though."
...
"No, she's not interested in converting. I don't think her race has a concept of God."
...
"Yes, Mom, she'll find out..."
...
"I did not roll my eyes at you."
...
"Because I don't have proper eyes to do that, Mom."
...
"Okay, not funny, I'm sorry."
...
"Look, I'll send you the pictures when I get them done, okay?"
...
"Okay, Mom. Tell Dad I said hi."
...
"Shava. Not Sean."
...
"Okay, Mom."
...
"I love you, too."
...
"Bye."
Hephaestus 1 pulled the phone cord from the back of his head and slumped back in his chair. Now he remembered why he only called her twice a year.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*dies laughing* THAT was priceless! It has totally made my day... Especially given that it reminds me of how I have to deal with MY mom.
I love my mother dearly, but sometimes we butt heads. A similar situation is taken to a superheroic extreme in this story.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
And pulled off Perfectly.
For weeks Jack had been Bens constant companion. Ben was happy to be reunited with his Mommys helper. Jack had been Bens baby-sitter on many nights, and he had shared with Ben his love of classic tough-guy movies. When Mommy had died, Ben had assumed Jack had too. After all, wasnt he a product of Ireland Loves magic?
But Ben had decided to search for Jack and found him in Galaxy Park, swimming in the river near the rock that bore his mothers name. He had found him in the form of a frog.
How did he know the frog was Jack? Everybody else seemed to think it was just a frog even though they didnt come right out and say so. But Ben knew. He knew. Jack was just weak right now, that was all. When he got stronger, he would get bigger again.
Sometimes, Ben would take Jack out of his pocket and let him run free and swim in Platinum Lake. Sometimes he would take him out in the middle of fights, just to see if he was strong enough yet to get a lick in.
That was a mistake. Now, because Ben had taken him out while fighting some Tsoo, Jack was dead, crushed beneath the heel of a masked ninja.
It wasnt some big epic battle. It wasnt some desperate gambit. Jack didnt even give his life to save anyone elses. He died because the Tsoo warrior didnt see him hopping across the street.
Ben was invisible, using his magic to confuse, confound, and conquer his foes one by one. They didnt even know he was there. He had them so confused, they were fighting each other. When the one stepped on Jack, Ben was so enraged that he made the others focus only on beating him. He made them beat Jacks killer until his mask was a blood-soaked mess and the only movements he made were small twitches of his fingers and feet.
It didnt make Ben feel better.
Still invisible, he scooped up Jack and went looking for a grown-up.
"Now, Ben... what happened?"
Ms. Uldi was the grown-up Ben found when he went to the place where the grown-ups hung out Pocket D. She was, as always, patient with him and willing to listen.
Um... I was fighting some Soo. And um... Jack wanted to get out and fight some, so I let him. And this one big guy in a ninja mask... he... he stepped on Jack!
Ms. Uldi looked concerned as she said, Oh, dear.
Ben continued. I made his friends beat him up.
It doesn't help as much as you thought, does it?"
Ben lowered his head. "No. Because it was my fault. I shouldnt have let him out."
Well, come here a bit, Ben, and I will tell you something.
Ben sat down beside Ms. Uldi and leaned his head against her shoulder as she held Jacks body in her hand.
Ms. Uldis friend Ms. Amber sat on the other side giving Ben sympathetic looks and nodding her head as Uldi spoke. A few weeks ago, before he had suddenly had to grow up a bit, Ben would have milked their sympathy shamelessly. Now, he just felt ashamed.
"Now, Ben, Uldi began, there is a lot about this. Many things. But I think you are grown up enough to handle this right. Do you think so too, Ben?"
Ben nodded.
Good. The first thing is, yes, it is some -- your fault that Jack is dead. You are right, and it is very grown-up of you to admit that. But...
Ben sat quietly, and nodded between sobs.
Sometimes these things happen, and there is little to be done about them. Ms. Uldi paused, frowning as she tried to find just the right way to make her point. You can learn from this. Grow from it. Make Jack and your Mama proud.
Ms. Amber spoke up, We can't control everything Ben. And vengeance doesn't help either.
Vengeance is an empty cookie tin, Ben, Ms. Uldi said. From outside, it seems like it will be wonderful. But when you get it open, there is no reward.
Ben nodded and said, It didn't feel good when I saw that Soo get beat up by his friends.
What else did you learn from this, Ben?
Um
To take better care of my friends... And that it feels different when you fight bad guys because youre mad from when you fight them to protect people.
Ms. Uldi looked sadly at the dead frog sitting on her knee. Whether it was a frog, or the real Jack didnt matter right now. What mattered was that Ben was full of hurt and guilt and needed closure. She said, Jack was your friend. So you respect him. You find a place, a way to bury him -- or honor him -- that expresses that."
Ben knew what he had to do. I need to take him back to where I found him and give him a hero's funeral.
Ms. Uldi nodded. "That sounds like a very good idea, Ben. And afterwards?"
I'll wrap him in a shroud and set him in the river. And then I'll go watch his favorite movie.
So, alone, Ben returned to Gemini Park. He sat down on the rock where his mother used to sit and carefully wrapped his friend in a clean white handkerchief. Then he laid him gently upon the river current and watched him float away.
Bye, Jack, Ben said. I dont know where youll go, but Ill miss you.
Then he went back home to his room, closed the door, and watched the Maltese Falcon.
Later that night, when his pop came in to check on him, he had fallen asleep, tear stains upon his pillow. Roy wondered what had made him cry, but didn't disturb him to ask. After all, someone had tucked him in snuggly...
Ben looked at the plate in front of him. Miss Tess had made it for him and set it in front of him in hopes that he would eat something. He didn't want to disappoint her, so he tried. He had a bite of turkey, and broke off a piece of his roll so that it kinda, sorta looked like he took a bite. But that was all he could muster. He wasn't hungry.
After a while Miss Tess told him if he didn't feel like sitting at the table, he could be excused. She frowned as she said this and he felt bad because he felt like he had let her down. But he left anyway.
He got to his room and looked around it. Models of the Starship Enterprise, in all of its incarnations, still hung from a ceiling painted to look like a starfield. On his dresser, his TV with the built-in dvd player sat, a stack of Jack's dvd's still sitting beside it. On the nightstand beside the bed was a four-leaf clover Mommy had picked for him in Ireland. She told him that because it was plucked from magical soil it would never wilt and would always bring him luck. He hadn't touched it since his mother's death. It was still green after all these weeks, but... luck?
It was stupid. It was all stupid.
Ben grabbed the stack of dvd's and dumped them into the trash can. Then he pulled all of the starships off of the ceiling and threw them in also. Lastly, he went to the nightstand and picked up the clover. All of the stupid kid things had to go. He picked it up and started toward the trash can.
Then he realized something. There was the smallest tendril of a root coming from the bottom of the clover. He hadn't noticed it before, but then, he hadn't really looked at the stem since the whole point of a four-leaf clover was the leaves on the top.
He had an idea. A glimmer of hope -- or in this case, perhaps it was a glamour of hope -- sprang to life in his spirit.
He got all of the things he had just thrown away back out of the trash can, then, without a word to anyone else, slipped out the window with the clover.
What is life like when your mind is in fact split into multiple shards of itself, of others and of a pseudo psionic entity which is infact a manifestation of your entire race's hatred for their curse?
What is it like when off duty, when not serving, when spending time to yourself, despite the voices bickering and complaining about a lack of activity?
Well, it's not that bad to be honest. It could be better, it could be worse. But it's fair enough.
Suffice to say Evil was not a great fan of alarm clocks, shift patterns or indeed duty rosters which were part and parcel of some of his duties in the service of the Shark. In one corner of his private room lay a small pile, a heaped collection of spiked, sliced, smashed and shattered alarm clocks, most of whom were considering to have voluntarily dismantled themselves by the virtue of being noisy during the wonderful period of the morning, following a heavy drinking session.
So it was no surprise when the newest recruit started its tune and quickly joined the heap.
Of course, this isn't to say that Evil is late or gets to have a lie in. No, no alarm clock is ever for the human, or in this case...the Flea.
No, this alarm clock is for the cat. A small kitten, with white mottled black furr and a most confused look in its eyes clambered up the bedsheets, carefully padding across the chitinous exoskeleton of the giant insect, batting at the antennae impatiently until Evil rolled over, sending it tumbling to the mattress. Of course this did not stop the kitten. Once more it climbed its owner, once more it started batting and pawing and this time, mewing for attention.
With a low groan, a tired, irritable grumble Evil rolled back over, looking at the small feline with a look that said it all.
'Oh fine. You win. Again. Now move Cat or I can't get up to feed you......'
(Yes, you read correctly. Flea has a pet kitten.)
Now! This is it! Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!