Ready, Aim, Fire!

You should have given her a gun if she wants to fire something.
Are you mad? Even with just a sword she does enough property damage!
....You may have a point.
I should think so!

Pinkness

I wanted to try making a desktop.

...Well it is the right size.

One Wing Overkill

Why does she only have one wing?

Because it looks cool.
That is the stupidest reason I have ever heard.

Agent Michal

Well that was fun!

...What is that blue thing?

A fancy tie of some sort.
Maybe if you lived in the eighteen hundreds!

So much pink...

My eyes hurt.

I was just testing my new paint-shop program thingy.

I now have a head ache thank you so very much.

You're welcome!
In any case you're very late.

Six little dragons all in a row

Five got bored and then there was one.

Which one didn't get bored?

The orange one.
 Huh, that one does look easily amused.

Dragon on the Stand

Is the dragon for sale?

Um, no?

Then why is it on a plinth? 

Because he likes it.
 ...I'll take that is all the answer I'm going to get.

My little dragon

So...um...well...that dragon looks like it's just seen its dinner.
Run out of nasty things to say? Poor little thing.
Shut up!

Cupcake of DOOM!

...It's like shooting electric eels in a power station...
Huh?
Exactly.

Tour of the Globe Theater

Well...was there a point to that?
Yes, it was a school project.
I hope you failed it.
....I hate you sometimes.

Unpleasantries in a Desert : Chapter twelve

And for the first time in three years a new chapter!

Yeah yeah rub it in...my computer died and I had to completely rewrite this chapter!

Huh..well okay...but still it had been an awfully long time!

Won't argue with that.

Chapter 12

A battlefield would have been peaceful by comparison to the deafening din of a feast being prepared for two thousand people. Therry scurried about carrying pile after pile of dishes and cutlery into the hall where in less than an hour the dignitaries would gather. Now it buzzed, as servants, numerous as ants, filed in and out.

Extra help was always wanted on these occasions. It took her little move then a tug on one of the maid’s sleave and a whimpered request to get full and legal run of the palace.

Her white hair and skin stuck out like a carrot in a sweet shop, a simple illusion took care of that though. No need to change her face just put a slight psychic haze around herself, and let the persons eyes fill in the details. Undetectable and very little energy needed to maintain it. No one ever looks properly at servants anyway, she certainly never did.

One of the cooks screamed at her to stop lollygagging and get back to work, she compiled, snarling at his back. She threw a tendril of magic at a boiling pot he was passing, spilling the soup over the floor. A scream of pain followed the crash of metal, people flooded toward it. Therry didn’t miss a step, now maybe she would be left alone for a bit, she thought grimly. She had not gotten herself hired just to do work.

The hall consisted of nine tears, each about two meters about the last, connected by a four meter wide staircase running up the middle. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a glow throughout the room. An almost invisible servant’s ramp hid in the shadow alone the wall. Therry walked down the walkway, sliding past the maids and footmen who were carrying loads to and from and kitchens. She found a convenient corner near the entrance and settled down to wait.

She pondered how best to handle the situation, Huri and Gerd would arrive soon, in theory to confirm the completion of the job, however she already knew that they had failed. Her forehead creased, she should be frothing with rage here, but she felt calm, even relieved. That annoyed her more than the failed assassination did.

She needed to stop caring about her uncle. It was just… Edward was just so hard to hate, despite all he stood for. She groaned softly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Edward, out of all her family, never shouted at her, or told her she was stupid. He encouraged her to become a mage and pursue her dream. Why did he have to be the one? Therry was sure Edward though she hated him; she just wished it could be true. It would make life so much easier, and-

Gereral Huri entered though the double doors, dressed in full military uniform, Gerd a step behind him. Therry brushed their thoughts carefully, getting a brief peek inside their minds. There would be violent ramifications if she was caught reading people’s minds without consent, but very little of her doings recently had been legal.

Huri’s mind was like dammed river, slow and tranquil, but his emotions where putting a lot of presser on the wall of the dam. Therry wondered what would happen if it burst, she would hate to have it directed at her. She barely touched Gerd’s thoughts, it felt like a hurricane, panic, fear, and anger whirled about, she withdrew swiftly. A piecing pain, like lightning, flashed though her head and was gone, leaving a dull ache in its stead. She rested her head in her hands for a moment before standing and walking over to intercept her business partners.

As a rule Therry avoided mind reading, if nothing else she always ended up with a migraine. However she wanted to make certain that the two men didn’t have anything stupid planned, since killing them would be impossible, it was best to try and keep them on side.

“Hello Huri, Gerd.” Therry smiled sweetly at them, letting them see though the glammor, “and how are our dear friends?”

A sweet smile was twice as scary as a scowl for a bearer of bad news, or so she liked to think. She would string them alone, make Huri sweat a little.

“We lost the prisoners.” Huri told her bluntly.

Therry’s smile faded, so much for watching him sweat, “I know, I saw the Minister last night.” Her grin returned, “Question is now what do I do to you.”

Gerd, posture stiff, glared at her, Huri narrow his eyes but remained silent. Therry stepped forward and tilted her head back to look straight into Huris eyes; they were dark, with streaks with green. He gazed back, eyes cold.

Therry raised an eyebrow and smiled, this time an sincere one, “Well nothing I do will change anything, so I guess I’ll just say good bye.” She laughed, at the shock that crossed his face, “I’m not going to be employing you again, but I really don’t think you’ll care about that.” She gave a mocking salute and walked off.

Therry fought to keep her steps measured and body relaxed, never leave an enemy behind her grandfather told her. This method was so much more effective then killing. Huri would not talk, it would be a matter of pride, and this way no grieving relatives or police men would come after her. It was tidier all round.

If the circumstances had been different she might have killed them both, however murdering a man in the middle of a building filled with suspicious diplomats would be suicide. Everyone would be worried that they would be the next one offed. Though, she thought, if she could frame one of the Brilsions… then the shit would really hit the fan. Yes… the more she considered it the better it sounded.

Another group entered the hall, a brown haired man with a long nose among them. Therry grinned like a skull, third minister Jarro would do nicely, why kill two birds when three were sitting there ready to be slaughtered?

“You look like someone just gave you a head on a silver platter.” A male voice complained, sounding more like a bratty child then one of the most powerful men in the county.

Therry relaxed against the wall, not bothering to look at who was talking to her, “Huri failed rather spectacularly, I have decided on a fitting punishment and a way to complete our goal.”

“How?” The voice whined.

Therry withheld a grimace, “In time dear, now go be nice. Talking to maids is hardly appropriate for someone of your standing. You do not want to attract attention now.”

“You’re right as always, do come by my room later and tell me then?”

“Yes, yes, now go!”

He slunk off like a wet cat, Therry ignored him. Now was not the time for distractions-

A hand grabbed her collar, “Get back in the kitchen! Stop flirting with your betters!” A Overseer whose face had more bones then flesh screamed at her. Fingers like nails dug into her neck.

Therry kept still for a moment, quelling the urge to burn the woman’s ugly face, “Yes mam.” She answered though gritted teeth.

She was shoved toward the servant’s ramp with enough force to knock her over. Therry picked herself up, examining her skinned knees. The bone woman moved on to terrorise a footman with a tray of drinks.

A change of plan is in order, Therry thought grimly, no one speaks to me like that and lives.

Weird Cuties

So...A pink dragon, and mutated dog and a...what's it?
That's right.
No, what's that...thing?
A what's it.
Oh..good...

Fire in the sky

Showing your face at last?
Yep.
...Well, it's, um, about time.
Yep.
You really went overboard with the flames.
It's so hard to stop painting them!

Electric Violin

...Um...
Yes?
Never mind...
Ok!

Physics Class

Dragging physics into everything aren't you?
Yep!
Still amazes me that someone who hates math so much love physics... you contradict common sense!
I am good at that.
Work with me here, I'm insulting you, not complementing!
With you it's more or less the same thing.

Little Dragon

Weird background, someone let a two year old loose on your tablet?
No, I thought it would look nice.
Good luck with that.
No need to be rude!
You started it.
How?
By being you.
...You're such a nice person.
Sarcasm doesn't suit you.
Oh, by the way, happy 2012!
Yeah, yeah, like anyone cares, and you're 5 days late.
Oh yeah. Woops. In that case happy birth day Camille Jordan!
Who?
A French mathematician, born on the fifth of January1838.
That's nice...I think?
Sure is!

Merry Christmas

You're two weeks early you know.
I know, Merry Christmas for two week time everyone!
...I'm not going to say it.
Please?
Still not saying it.
Pleeeeeeeaasseee?
Nope.
Here Ricky! Get her!
Rwoar!
Fine! I give in, Merry Christmas for some point soon in the future. There, happy?
Very.
Growl!

Yay Fire!

...I want one of those.
What on earth would you use it for?
Setting fire to things, what else?
Never mind, I don't want to know.

Unpleasantries in a Desert : Chapter eleven

Another? Getting rid of some of the back log I see. May I say that it is about time!

Couldn't agree more.

Chapter 11

July, 28, 1949, The Roast Hog, Leacon

The sun rose, warming the chilled bricks that the buildings in Leacon were built of. Edward stretched, staring out of the window over the table he was working at; books, papers, photos, and maps lay in piles, neatly assorted, a cup of cold tea next to one elbow. He pulled the blanket firmly around his shoulders, before continuing writing. Far away a bird of prey called and the pen scratched it's way across the paper, pausing now and again for Edward to check a detail. The cook started the morning meal, ordering the sleepy maids about. The guests had not yet begun to descend down from their rooms.

Across the commons room a door slammed open, Retin stood, her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her, her quick steps brought her to the Mage who gave her a cold look before she demanded: “What have you done to Jarro this time?” she thumped the table, “Last time I saw him he was talking to you, and this morning I can't find him anywhere!”

Edward shot upright, “Jarro's not here?”

“I just said that you idiot, and don't try to play dumb, I know you did something!” her hands tightened into fists.

“Oh yeah go on blame me straight away, couldn't you at least pretend to think about it first?”

“You almost got him killed before, why shouldn't I suspect you?” Retin sneered.

“I was not my fault that he followed me! If anything you are to blame for not keeping an eye on that dimwit.” Edward shot back.

“Unless you are blind as a bat you would have seen him straight away, he is as stealthy as a rampaging bull.”

“I wasn't expecting anyone to try tailing me.”

“Sure you weren't, but that isn't the point - what matters now is finding him, so spill the beans!”

“I already told you, I don't know!”

“Do!”

“Don't.”

“Do!”

“Now, now children, what is going on here?” Spode stood arms folded, glaring at Edward and Retin as they stood, teeth bared at the other. A startled Lunarious and a impassive Kayle were standing behind him. “Come on, you'll wake the whole house at this rate.”

Retin began, before Edward could say a word. “Jarro's not here.”

Spode raised an eyebrow, and Loony let out a loud groan, “Is that what you two have been yelling your heads off about? He might have just gone for an early morning walk or-”

“His bed was not slept in, I did look..” Retin snapped, eyes still fixed on the Mage.

“Oh,” Loony paused, reconsidering, “Well in that case, where would he have gone last night?”

Kayle growled, “He better not have caused any trouble, if he starts a war I will make sure that he is the first casualty.”

Spode rubbed his forehead, “Who saw him last?”

“I was talking to him last night, after that he left saying something about wanting some fresh air, that was about ten-ish.” Edward volunteered.

“That your story anyway.” Retin muttered under her breath.

“It's the truth.” Edward, exasperated.

“Your truth.” she shot back.

“Break it up you two, I don't know what is going on but the sooner we get our lost minister back the better. First I'll check with the palace to see if they can help ferrite him out. Next-”

A door slamming outside resounded though the building, Grycite and Brilsion voices were heard raised in argument.

Rosie opened the inner door, “Anyone lost a minister?” Jarro stumbled through the gap, pushed by someone behind him, his hair was plastered with dirt and his clothes needed a wash, but he was unhurt. “The corporal says they picked him up after curfew last night so he spend the night in their cells. He was delivered along with the post just now.”

The mage and assassin reached his side simultaneously.

“What did you think you were doing?”

“Didn't you know about curfew?”

“If you ever do such a darn silly thing again I am chaining you up!”

“If you want fresh air get it from a window, not an unknown street, you were lucky it was only the guard!”

Jarro defended himself as best he could, before giving in. He was grateful when breakfast was served to distract his well meaning torturers.

Though, with Retin and Edward on either side of him it made for a tense meal, both spent it snarling at each other like a cat and dog. It would have been funny, Jarro decided, if he wasn't sitting between them.

He was about half was though breakfast, a runny porridge with bread sticks, when the owner of the Roast Hog oiled his way in and announced that the palace car had arrived. The remaining food was stuffed down his throat at an amazing speed and soon the train of cars were honking their way though the packed roads. Beggars tapped at the windows before being swept up by the masses, vendors screeched theirs wares at anyone within ear shot, a few of the wingless dragons, jippers, plodded past.

As they past though the second set of gates he inquired as just how many there were.

“Five, each time the city needed to be expanded due to population expansion another wall was added. The first king to expand the city outward was a lazy guy and very much a penny pincher, so he left the old one were it was. After that it become more or less a tradition” Edward explained

“The other reason given is that this was the original plan for the city, but the treasury ran out of money so the construction had to be halted, until such time as they had the funds, so each extension of the walls is just a continuation of the plans already made.” Retin countered, smiling as sweetly as a lemon.

“Well excuse me for learning my history correctly.” Edward gave a very good impression of someone who's nose had just been put out of joint.

“You thought you were right? Alright then I won't argue, I might hurt your poor feelings.” Retin adopted a highly patronising tone.

This polite and calm argument continued, Jarro sat wincing as verbal barbs and daggers flew over his head, he wish heartily that they would both just shut up.

The cars past through several more gates before finally stopping before two massive golden dragons supporting the Golden Empire Gate. The jewels that encrusted the golden hide made the whole structure shimmer. The doors themselves where carved, one side with a sun and other the three moons. A guard blew a horn and the doors retreated, and an explosion of green hit the eye.

“Someone over did the garden.” Lucuse announced. “Is there even a palace in here or is it all bushes?”

“The palace and its grounds are relativity new, in the last hundred years or so, the old ones were destroyed when the current rulers' great great grandfather disposed the previous ruling family. He used mages to melt the very foundation - by the end a puddle of molten stone was all the was left.” Senic sounded a little wistful, Jarro thought, but then again melted stone sounded far more interesting then a garden.

“History lesson over yet? Lets get this over with then.” Lucuse had had enough of talking.

“It would not hurt you to take an interest in what is going on around you, now and then, you know.” Kayle said in a deadpan voice.

“Why? I don't mind ignorance.” Kayle narrowed her eyes but kept silent they were led by a servant though the maze of conflicting paths.

Jarro let himself fall to the back of the group where Lucuse was slinking, hands sunk in pockets.

“If you hate being a Seirions so much why haven't you quit?”

“I can't.” Lucuse snapped, he caught himself, and continued in a calmer voice, “I can't. All the clan leaders have to enrol at least one son as a Seirions and as the eldest must remain to carry on the family business the second son is the logical choice. No matter their view on the matter.”

“Oh.” Jarro walked silent for a few steps, “Can't you be dismissed or something? Expelled for bad behaviour?”

“What does it look like I am try to do?” Lucuse glared ahead, “When I was first assigned I tried to strike a deal so that Lady Kayle would say I am unfit for duty, but all I get is lectures about how hard some people had to work to get in and that I should thank my parents for the short cut. She says I have 'great potential', I disagree strongly, but unfortunately she is the only one who can release me from the contract, so I am stuck here.” He finished, shrugged and lengthened his strides so he was a few feet ahead of Jarro. Jarro pondered, staring at the snake changers back, as far as he could tell the lady Kayle was just wasting her time, Lucuse was a man after few things in life, and none of them involved a high ranking career. He did feel a sort of sympathy with Lucuse, he knew what it was like being pushed into a job you didn't want to do.

The servant announced loudly, “Behold the palace of the Childa!”

The building itself was white marble, it's gleaming white walls contrasting the multiple colours of the garden. It was simple, no gaudy ornaments or golden statues. Jarro decided that he liked it.

However the same could not be said of the inside. Jarro gaped, every surface glittered with gold, gems, silver, copper, the value would have astounded the richest man and emptied the largest vault. Turning slowly he surveyed the fortune around him, and almost walked into Retin as she stood, her foot tapping.

“Coming?”

Jarro laughed a little, embarrassed, and followed after, still staring in awe at the decorations.

They were ushered into a waiting room were they found hard benches to park themselves upon and listen to the chiming of a distance tower clock, before a short Grycite with a very loud voice announced, “You may now enter.”

Jarro jumped up, relieved the wait was over, Retin hissed in his ear, “Do not make an utter fool of yourself.” The doors opened onto the Throne Room. Guard in uniforms that looked like they had been designed by a hyper four year old with a box of coloured pencils lined the walk to the throne itself. Behind them various house representatives stood, curious to see the first officials to visit the Chillda himself in many years. Jarro could feel the tension as a hundred people held their collective breath.

The Chillda sat on an ornate but nevertheless wooden throne, it looked out of place among the gold, the man also looked plain, hair dull and clothes a simple linen robe. To the Chillda's right was a woman, who despite looking close to thirty, was almost bouncing with enthusiasm. Across from her a man who made a morgue look cheerful, he stood, gazing chillingly as the aliens approached.

Loony curtseyed deeply, before beginning a lengthy introduction through Senic who was interpreting.

Jarro tuned her out after a few minutes, his eyes briefly met those of the Chillda's right hand woman. She made point of glancing toward Loony, rolling her eyes, and touching her lips gently in a pretend yawn. Jarro smiled slightly, tapping his fingers and thumb together to agree that he thought is was mostly boring chitchat - holding his arm at chest level so it wasn't easily noticed.

They continued exchanging signals until Retin gripped his arm and whispered, “How old are you again?” Jarro gave an annoyed glare at his shoulder, but he stopped. The woman gave a slight shrug and returned to gazing at nothing, Jarro followed her example.

It was another two hours until they were dismissed, and guided to the guest house. Jarro glanced around the rooms, the main was a combination sitting and dinning room, off to one side was a small bathroom and the other a bed room, he collapsed onto the bed, while the maid told him that food would be brought up soon and that the feast this evening would start at eight. She left in a flurry of skirts and wings. Jarro stretched, kicking off his shoes, and flinging his arms out, he still had a few hours before he needed to do anything but relax, and he planned to put it to good use.

Unpleasantries in a Desert : Chapter ten

Trying to make up for being so lazy?
Sort of.

Chapter 10

July, 27, 1949, Outskirts of Leacon

The bruised and battered Hoverer landed off to one side of the gate in the outer wall of Leacon. Bag gripped in one hand, Jarro dropped onto the sand and stood for a second breathing deeply. A distance away the sister craft had arrived sometime earlier, Rosie the Captain sprawled on the wing. She pushed herself off onto the sand and started toward them.

A shove to the small of his back sent him sprawling forward, “You make a better wall then a door.” Retin stepped down behind him.

“Now was there any need for that?” He gave her a hurt look.

To his surprise the assassin sighed, “Not really, sorry. I just think that I would rather spend a year on a boat then go on that hoverer again.”

“This time I agree heartily with you.” Edward sighed following after.

As soon as Beladine was with ear shot she called out, “What happened? One moment you were chuffing along behind us then, Poof!” She gestured wildly with her arms, “You weren't!”

“You did not see the fire?”

She looked blank, “What fire?”

“You didn't see it.” Jarro started laughing, the danger that his majesty had been so concerned about had happened and the guards never even noticed. Oh the fun he would have when they got back. No one else look particularly amused however.

“Why did you think we were not there? Sightseeing maybe?” Edward stood, arms folded, glaring at the sheepish Captain.

“No! We circled for an hour around the area we last spotted you, but we saw nothing.”

“Well, the mage did cast a glamour to hide us. That the only explanation I can think of.” Edward stated, puzzled.

“Lets just get to the citadel.” Lunarious walked over, a shuffling Ellen behind her.

“We're not allowed to go there until morning, but I found a high class inn, The Roast Hog, and it is not too far.” Beladine cheerfully announced, relieved that no one was blaming her.

Loony groaned, “I hope my poor legs can make it.”

“They will!” Beladine slapped her back almost sending the Loony to her knees.

It was a quarter of an hour before they reached the aforementioned inn. It was everything he hoped for, a slab of rock for a bed and food a chemist couldn't have identified.

Loony glanced at the food and announce she was not hungry, Retin and Edward ate without comment. Jarro gloomily stared at the stuff on his spoon, maybe that bit of orange could be carrot? The only thing that stopped him from throwing it out was the smell, it wafted promising and sweet. Maybe if he closed his eyes...

Eyes squeezed shut Jarro felt someone slide opposite him. He ignored them and kept spooning the creamy goo into his mouth.

“So your the new recruit. Younger than I imagined.” Still blind to the world Jarro creased his forehead, the voice was melodic, and a heavy with a Grycite accent. “High in the Brilsion government too or so I hear.”

“Huh?” Recruit? What for? He decided to plead ignorance for now and try to find out what is going on.

“I do not think so, six foot tall, hair looks like you crawled though a shrubbery, part of the retinue from Brilsion I assume? your eyes are brown too, sounds like you does it not?”

“Apart from my position you could have described any one of a hundred people.” Oh great, so she knew about him but he knew nothing about her, this was not fair.

“But you are him. Stop playing dumb, and open your eyes.”

“Shelia? What are you doing?” Edward voice conveyed no small mount of alarm.

“Ahh, Edward nice to see you too, your friend is playing hard to get.” She knew Edward, who is part of the Reformers, and she kept on about him being a recruit. Jarro almost felt a light switch on.

He opened his eyes, Edward looking pale, stood stunned. Jarro took the initiative - if he played along Edward would have no choice but to let him in on his plans, or so he hoped anyway, the mage played his cards very close to his chest.

“Oh - is she a friend?” Jarro turned back to the woman, she wore an red evening dress, with gold trim at neck, wrists and waist, and her near-black skin shone, “Are you our contact? Sorry about not answering before - I did not want to risk it if you were one of 'them'.” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper at the last word.

She blinked and her eyes flicked to the mage who was standing one hand over his face, “One of 'them'?”

“Oh yes, it would give the whole game away, and nasty people would hunt me down and cut my throat.” This really was the most fun he'd had in days, both Edward and the Grycite woman looked like people who had just stepped into a paddling pool, and ended up in over their heads.

The Grycite woman turned to Edward, “You really recruited him?”

“No, he's having you on,” Edward took a deep breath, “She's a friend, you can drop the act. I told the reformers in Merka that I recruited you so they wouldn't kill you, the story must have spread, but not that many people could have heard of you.”

“Good luck with that, everyone was talking about it down at the base.”

Jarro blinked, and Edward sunk, his head buried in his hands, Shelia paused, “Either let him join for real or be ready to find a dead body.”

“In that case I'll join now if it is all the same to you I would like to live to see tomorrow.” Jarro folded his arms, determined.

“I don't like this, what happens when he slips up?” Jarro felt this was a little insulting, but given his track record , a reputation for messing things up was to be expected.

“Slips up what? So long as he doesn't go about announcing that he became a member by accident he'll be fine.” Shelia waver aside Edwards worries.

“But...” Edward, hovered, uncertain.

“It will be fine,” Shelia reassured him, from across the bar a man waved at her, “Got to go, listen out for me! You tell him whatever you think he needs to know.” She bounded across the crowded room, whirled before exiting through a side door, winked and disappeared.

Jarro stared at the door for a moment before asking Edward, “What did she mean, listen out?”

“She's a singer.” The mage vaguely replied, his eyes focused on table.

“Oh, okay.” Jarro shifted, uncomfortable. “So um, are you going to tell me what this mission of your about?”

“I am just debating how best to explain it.” He push his hair back, “Alright, now this is by no means all that is happening but it is the basis. The Reformers are made up of multiple factions, each one has it's own leader, and it's own rules. Now this treaty between Brilsion and the Ignatumlands is causing a lot of controversy among us, some are for it, nevertheless there are a lot who are against it.” He stopped, pondering how to continue.

Jarro asked carefully, uncertain as to whether he would be answered, “Do they want us to go to war, or stay the way we are?”

“Some want war, others don't, really everyone has there own view of this treaty.”

“So... any chance you could tell me why Retin hates you quite so much?”

“I am as far as everyone else knows, so far against this treaty that I would rather start a world war that would last another twenty years than let this it be passed. It was the only way to get in contact with the Reformers here - if I was for the treaty they wouldn't tell me anything.”

“That would do it, um, so do I need to do anything special so I won't get shot?”

“Huh?”

Jarro clarified, “To join the Reformers.”

Edward sighed, defeated. “This is going to end badly. No, there is nothing you have to do, I'll inform my friends in Brilsion about you and they will do the rest.”

“Can I tell Retin?”

“No.”

The lights dimmed and a spotlight highlighted Shelia standing, her delicate wings unfurled. A hush filled the room, and her voice rose, haunting and dark. Jarro excused himself leaving Edward slouched at the table alone. He walked past four of Rosie's guards sat in the outer room, mugs of beer and cards on the table. They barely glanced up as he rambled past. Outside on the streets the only visible life were moths bouncing off the windows, vainly trying to get to the light inside.

Jarro started down between the stone houses that lined that road, the dark rarely bothered him, however there was something off about the night, he ignored the sensation, putting it down to nerves. He just wanted to walk, he often did when thinking, it helped to have the scenery go by, it cleared away the unnecessary thoughts.

Jarro finally halted a couple of blocks away from the inn, contemplating whether or not to turn back, when a hand covered his mouth. Panicking he bit down and the bitter taste of leather made him gag.

From somewhere close a female voice drawled, “Now what do we have here?”

A guttural voice next to his ear said something in Grycition and sniggered, then a light blinded him, an exclamation followed.

“Human eh?” the voice came closer, Jarro found his self staring up into a pair of yellow-grey eyes in a ivory face, a wisp of pale blond hair caressing her cheek. As their eyes met she let out a slight out take of breath. “You! How can you possibly be here?”

“Hi to you too.” Jarro answered coldly, “Though you'd seen to us good and proper with the slavers?”

Therry smiled, “How did you know I took part?”

“I listened, you were hardly quiet.” he shifted, “Are...are you going to kill me now?” he avoided her eyes, clenching his fists to stop the shacking.

She ignored his question, “Did you tell Edward about me?”

Jarro laughed shortly, “Oh yeah, I did, he didn't believe me though.”

“Really?”

“Don't worry, I'll talk him round, seeing you here, and your reaction to such should help tremendously.” Jarro knew provoking her was borderline insane, but he could not help himself.

“You won't say a thing. A simple spell will see to that.”

A vibrant glow lite up the street, Jarro squinted at her, last time someone cast a spell on him he ended up with wings; and Edward didn't want him dead.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Doing a simple memory wipe to see that your tongue doesn't flap, you'll lose ten minutes at most.”

Yellow-grey eyes met his, “Sleep.” the command sunk into his subconscious, “You'll wake up tomorrow without a memory of me. Won't that be nice?”