User talk:Zahariel

Journal, Day 1
Avery, beloved

As I write this, I have just finished with the repair to the Navigator. My previous notes and journals lost, I start a new one with the hope that you will one day read this one and know of the events that befell since last we parted.

I think it best to start again from the beginning. To my knowledge, it's now been close to fifty years since I set out on this journey. Your brother and I were separated during the jump and I arrived at an earlier time than him, not knowing where nor when I was.

I was lost, completely and hopelessly. The Navigator's soulstone was depleted, but even if it hadn't I did not know where I was, or when, for that matter, and without an anchor point navigation across space and time was and is beyond me. The Navigator had, as you probably remember, been upgraded for space travel, but I lacked the most basic map telling me where to go. I had set out on a rescue mission and now I found myself, in turn, in need of rescue.

For several years I wandered the planet on which I had landed, a world not unlike your own but a few centuries behind, working as a trader and a merchant of goods, always looking for a way back to you. But this world had no magic, and their technology level was far from advanced enough to help me. I realized that I'd have to find a way off-planet if I hoped for ever finding your brother and the others.

Almost a decade after my arrival, an opportunity presented itself. I was docked at a port city, and had just finished unloading a shipment of spices, when overhead two spaceships darted past. I ran to the Navigator and jumped aboard, and laughing like a maniac took off after them. The Navigator is not built for speed, but their trails were easy to follow. My chase didn't last long, less than half an hour later I came to where the ships had landed. Or at least one had. The second one had clearly been shot down, and was still then under fire.

Remember how we'd once discussed that you could always recognize a cop for being the one that's outgunned? I'm saddened to say this seems to be a univeral rule. These police officers had managed to shoot down the other vessel, but they were taking heavy fire and many of them had already fallen.

Maybe I should have been more cautious, but a decade's frustration made me reckless. I rammed the downed craft from behind. With this diversion, the officers were able to quickly subdue them. Afterwards I would find out these police officers -galaxy rangers, they called themselves- patrol the dark of space where no other jurisdiction applies. They're lawbringers, fighting smugglers and pirates where no one else can.

Their craft had been damaged in the firefight and was in need of repairs. So, while they tended to their wounded and made their repairs, I did improvements of my own to the Navigator. When, under a week later, they launched, I followed them.

I became a ranger myself, thinking that if there was any chance of finding Oliver and the rest, it was with them. I was assigned a sector to patrol, and I did so for nigh three decades. In all that time I never heard a word about anyone remotely resembling Oliver, and not a single race that knew of Earth, or even of the Solar System.

I started to lose hope.

And then, I was captured. I was pursuing a smuggler ship when I fell in an ambush. I was overpowered and taken prisoner, and thrown into a cell for what seemed a lifetime. It was a lifetime. They locked me in a four-by-four cell and threw away the key.

I spent nearly ten years in that cell.

There was no way out. I didn't leave that cell once, never saw anyone in all that time. Food would appear out of thin air and the would disappear in the same way. They never questioned me, never showed the smallest interest in me. They simply left me there to rot.

I only managed to retain my mind by transforming into one of the treefolk. As such my consciousness was diffused and time lost most of its meaning, and so months passed as weeks. I fear what would have happened to my sanity had I not been able to do that.

This morning I was brought back from my trance by the entire complex shaking under attack. The alarms were going off and I could hear people running in the distance. And then a voice in my mind called me, and for a moment I thought I had finally lost my sanity, but then that voice became your brother's and I knew they were coming for me. Minutes later he opened the door to my cell. In those few minutes between the telepathic contact and his arrival, I went from absolute joy to murderous rage to paralyzing uncertainty. How long had it been since he'd arrived in this time and place? How long had he been looking for me? And other than Satori, who else was with him? But when he opened the door... nothing mattered anymore. I was free. And once I was out of that wretched cell there was one thing I absolutely had to do.

I had to fly.

And I did. I became the gryphon and your brother sat on my back and made us immaterial, and I flew us upwards across the sublevels of that thrice-damned complex. He, however, was on a mission, so he asked me to make a detour to the control room.

Figures, he wasn't even looking for me to begin with.

We arrived at the control room and he sat in front of the control board. It was a complicated contraption, a veritable mess of screens, buttons and dials I couldn't make sense of. He sat there but for a few seconds before getting up again and walking back towards me. I assumed he hadn't found what he was looking for, and deep down I hoped we'd leave that place for good and I'd get another chance to stretch my wings.

It shames me to no end to admit that he gave me the beating of my life. I did not see it coming, I barely saw a blurr, and suddenly the blows seemed to come from everywhere at once and he knocked me unconscious before I even knew what was happening.

He later told me that when he sat at the controls a failsafe activated and a spell was placed on him, so that he'd been made to believe that he'd just witnessed me brutally murder young Endoval. I spent hours unconscious, and came to aboard the Navigator. Or what was left of it, during the time I'd been imprisoned our ship had been used as a weapons platform and had to be retaken by force. The bridge was in shambles, our cabin was a mess, and they'd mounted electronical devices all over the place to get our ship to lift off.

I have finished cleaning, and the ship is repairing itself. It should be back in its usual shape in approximately one hundred hours. Tomorrow I will set up your old bedroom and the spare to house anyone that may want to travel with me instead of using the other ships. Satori is here, as is Endoval, but Overdrive is missing, as are Hellion and Eerie. Three strangers have joined them, an odd-looking insectoid creature, a human-ish spaceship captain, and what I can only describe as a space samurai riding a draconish rocketbike.

This place, wherever and whenever this is, is stranger than anything I have ever seen.

It won't be long, now. We'll find the missing ones and then I'll find a way to fly back home. The soulstone is once again depleted but I've began to recharge it, it shouldn't be too long before it can fuel a planeshift.

I'm coming home, love.

Dreamworld
I came into it driving, flooring the pedal (in real life I'm usually overtaken by grandmothers), with that kind of knowledge you have in dreams that there was somewhere that I had to get to, and that there was someone or something after me and I needed to get to this one place where I'd be safe.

I drove hell-bent for leather past a lot of places, and all of them looked safe enough but I always knew they were not the one place I was heading for; my old apartment, my parent's house, my college campus, my old church, my old school, even my best friend's place.

I just kept driving, because I knew I was closer to where I needed to be, and then I turned to the right and I was there, right in the middle of the city stood this ridiculously huge clearing, and in the middle of it these stone wall so tall they didn't let you see what was within.

There was a barricade around it, around the entire clearing, police and military, and they tried to flag me down but I ran through it, because (again, dream knowledge) I knew they meant well and nobody else should come close to that wall, that it was dangerous to everyone else but I would be alright, I knew how to find the door and it would open for me.

I had to shoot my way through the barricade.

I couldn't stop, I had to make it to the wall, you see? I knew how to find the door, and I knew it /would/ open, and when I did get to it, it was there, clear as daylight.

The car broke down from the bullets so I jumped off and ran the rest of the way.

When i got to the door, it was like time had stopped. The door, a huge, heavy and ancient wooden door with carved iron bandings opened and I went into a staging area under the wall, and the door closed behind me. I had my revolver in my hand, an estoc at my side and my shotgun slung over my shoulder, but I knew that I should not carry weapons where I was going, that it was against the rules although nobody would know but me, and I had to chose.

I dumped everything in a corner and pushed open the next door.

It lead to a tunnel, pitch-black at first but when the door closed behind me a single candle flickered and lit up with a pale yellow light. The tunnel was lined with skulls, and a voice that came from nowhere but still seemed to fill the room whispered that they belonged to the ones who'd come before me, who'd been able to find the door but had failed the tests and proved unworthy to be masters of the house.

Once again I had a choice, to either move forward into the house proper or to turn back. The voice carried a warning, that my own skull would join the ones who'd tried and failed through the millennia.

This place, this house, was Old. It felt old, I could actually feel its age, but it was also strong and alive and thrumming with a power I could sense, and it made my heart race and I just knew that this was /my/ place. And if I died because I had failed it was worth just having been a part of it.

I took a step forward and I was no longer in the tunnel but in a hall, inside the house proper, and it took my breath away. The roof was at least two stories high with ancient oak support beams carved in the likeness of animals, and the walls were wooden panels, carved with scenes of ancient battles and symbols I could not understand. There were windows, high up, lighting the room the floor was dark wood boards. At least at first, because as soon as I started to move forward the floor in front of me sunk into a stone pool of sorts, perhaps 2 meters deep, and water started pouring in from stone heads in the sides.

There was a narrow ledge around the pool and if I clung to the walls I could easily avoid having to swim across, except... I was trying to prove myself to be the owner of the house, not a thief. I dove into the pool and swam, and as I did I heard a clicking sound coming from somewhere behind the walls. Hundreds of spikes had popped from behind the wood, if I'd tried the ledge I'd have been speared like a bad acupuncture job.

Exiting the reception hall I found the doors to an inner patio, run down and covered in weeds, dried flowerbeds and bushes. It had another exit, which led to a room, dark and dusty, an abandoned shed with rusted gardening tools. There was a den there, and the musky smell coming out from it was strong and feral. There was a wolf pack living there, and they were large and strongly built. They came out of their den and surrounded me, and the largest one walked forward, coming closer to where I was standing. It dawned on me that I had to choose, to run from the wolves or challenge the alpha, and i stood up to him but didn't attack, just stared him down. Our eyes met and I knew that it was a matter of him testing me, he'd wanted to know if I was afraid, and once he knew I wasn't he turned the pack away and left.

After that I walked back into the house proper and found another set of doors, carved wood with this very complicated geometric pattern, and the room inside was dark. No windows, no skylights, only the light that came from the windows behind me and it only illuminated a tiny area in the floor. I could sort of make out two chairs set against a table and two shapes (people?) sititing in them.

Except the proportions where all wrong, the heads were too round and the limbs were too thin and I was trying to listen for any sounds coming from them and there was none, no breathing, no rustling from the clothes, nothing. I walked into a room and greeted them but they didn't answer, they didn't move an inch. I kept walking towards them and now i could see their faces better, sunken dead eyes in faces of cracked leather, and their emaciated limbs sticking out of old ragged clothing. The way they were sitting next to each other, so still, so straight, with their hands crossed in their laps like they had been waiting for something for such a long time, I needed to know who they were and what they were waiting for. So I asked them who they were, but there was no answer.

I walked even closer, and asked them what they had been waiting for, and again there was no answer.

And suddenly I felt responsible for them, it was so unfair that they'd had to wait so long and I needed to do something to help them, if I only knew what. So I walked right next to the one closest to me, and now I could tell it was a woman, old as the house itself, and I knelt next to her and asked her how i could help her. When I said that, how can I help you? her face turned around to face mine, and in the bottom of her eyes I could see the faintest spark of what had once been this magnificient fire that was almost burned out, and her mouth did not move but still I could hear her tell me "Restore it".

I turned to see the man next to her and he was also staring at me, with that same look in those almost-but-not-completely dead eyes, and the same message coming from him, to restore "it".

After that both of them turned back to the way they'd been sitting, I was shaken, but I got up and was about to turn to leave the room, but I had to say something, so I put my hand on hers and told her I would find a way to restore it and help her and then i knew, it was the house, it had been alone for too long, for all these centuries there had been no one to call itself its master, and it needed one. it needed me, but it also needed to make sure i was the right one, i had to prove to the house that i was the right one.

After that sudden burst of knowledge I left that room feeling rather well with myself. I knew I was worthy, all I had to do was prove it. I found another door leading further into the house, a narrow hallway, dusty and dimly lit from a blue-tinted skylight. There were paintings on the walls, portraits covered in grime, and old, centuries old. These paintings had names under them, written in an alphabet that i'd never seen before, and dates, or what had to be dates under them, but the paintings themselves were faded, it was one of the things that I had to restore.

The portraits were there, but they were blurry, like a memory barely remembered and I owed it to them. They were like the Keepers, they had been there for such a long time, and they too had proved themselves. It was so unfair that they were almost forgotten, that nobody else in the world even knew who they'd been. There was an empty spot, set for a new portrait, and I walked to it.

Afterwards I felt rather stupid that I hadn't been more careful, I heard a clicking sound and fell through a trapdoor. I landed on my butt, on a hard dirt floor of what had to be a basement of some sort. It was pitch black, the trapdoor closed right after I fell through it and there was no light at all. Then I heard this sound, hundreds of chitinous little feet skittering somewhere behind me... it'd be there one moment and disapper the next, and when i'd try to turn to face it it'd stop, then it'd start again and be somewhere else.

This wasn't like with the wolf pack, there was no chance for staring this thing down, it was hunting me and it was getting closer every time and I was scared. I didn't have any weapons, I'd left them all behind. one shotgun blast would have lighted the room long enough to probably surprise this thing and let me take another shot at it.

so, the centipede thing, there's this thing my dad told me, when you're lost in the jungle and you think there's a predator after you, the worst thing you can do is act like prey. don't stand still, don't try to be sneaky and something else i thought of at that moment, if it thinks it's coming after me, he won't expect me to go after it.

I turned to where the sound was coming from, and when it stopped, I charged. I ran right into it and I felt something hard and segmented rear up and then the thing shrieked and I stepped on it and held its head-part up with one hand while I grabbed one of its legs with the other and tore it back. It lashed out and got loose and it had all its legs pushing it away from me and I could hear the pincers in its head snapping at me, trying to bite me, and it was taking everything I had just to hold it back. I couldn't let go with either hand or I'd lose my grip on it. So I bit it. I pulled the leg I was holding on and bit it in the joint, and then the thing really shrieked.

I kept biting and pulling and pushing its head away until it got lose, pushing away from me, and then it escaped, and I remember shouting at it, and running after it.

I followed it, as it ran away, following the sound of its legs as they hit the floor, and following it I found the exit from the basement. When i got there, I turned around looking for it, because I was not going to show my back to it, but it wasn't trying to attack anymore. It was waiting for me by the staircase, showing me I could leave unmolested.

From there I climbed the stairs to a narrow hallway that led to the dining room, and again, this place was breathtaking. The chandelliers were old, made for hundreds of candels, and the room's walls had paintings of wildlife, deer and boar and birds and animals and beasts I'd never seen before. I looked at them, there was this lion-like feline, except it was almost the size of a horse and it was entirely black, and its mane was longer

i dunno if by now i've managed to properly explain how big the house was it wasn't a castle, it wasn't build for defense, it was built to be lived in, and it could be comfortable. deadly, too, and definitely a place that could defend itself, but that wasn't its purpose it was a strange feeling, this place felt so strong, so powerful, but also so empty and alone the dining table could have fitted dozens of people, but instead it was covered in a thick layer of dust the chairs were wooden with leather-covered cushions and back rests, and the leather was old and cracked, and the old chimney was covered in ancient soot it was a bit depressing now this bit may sound silly, but i remember thinking, i could bring nina here and this would be such a great place to live. and on that table it wouldn't matter how many people we invited over, it was perfect for games i could bring life back to the place but first i had to make it mine, and for that i needed to find the heart of the house i had to get to the upper floor, find the room i had to get to the room, the genius loci, it was somewhere on the second floor i couldn't find a single staircase heading up i explored every single room in the ground floor and there weren't any, and now i could feel that time was running out, i needed to find the way up or it'd be too late i found my way back to the first hall, the one with the wooden carvings in the walls the pool was gone, the floor was again wooden boards. this time around, i could feel more of the place. the carvings, the stories they told, ancient battles and everyday activities, the construction of castles and the burying of the dead, they were somehow more real, more personal i asked the house to show me the way. i was going to be its master, but it had to show me the way, it had to trust me if i was going to help it. i remember closing my eyes and feeling the house, and asking it to trust me enough to prove myself to it when i opened my eyes again, there was a staircase in the room, simple stone steps leading up yes, very :) i said thank you to the house, and started going up the stairs it wasn't that easy, though. every step up was harder, i could feel myself getting heavier. at first i could deal with it but after getting almost halfway up i couldn't remain standing, i fell on my knees and hands and had to continue on all fours towards the end i couldn't push myself up anymore, i couldn't lift my arms off the floor or keep my head up on the last step all i could do was scratch the socle, dig my nails into the stone grooves to push my hand up, and then basically crawl up my fingers were bloody by the time i'd finished and rolled over until i was lying face up on the floor, panting when i got up, i was in front of a narrow corridor lit by torches on the walls i walked down the corridor, and at its end there was a mirror, covered by a dusty cloth. i pulled it down and stared at my own reflection. i was looking at myself in the mirror, my clothes were filthy, my trouser's knees were torn, my shirt had been slashed and dragged across the floor and i was covered in cuts and bruises i heard a voice then, speak your name to enter. and that seemed simple enough, but when i opened my mouth the imagine in the mirror split in half down the middle, and half of it was still me, but the other half was, well, also me, but his/my name wasn't my own.

I knew my/our name/s, and I/we was/were about to say it/them, but again, my/our image in the mirror started to crack, this time from my/our chest, and each fragment was still a part of me/us, and I/we could remember all of my/our names, all the lives I/we'd lived, how each had always been a real part of me/us.

I could remember every little transgression, every single smile, every tear and laugh, people I'd met in all those other lives, and places I'd been to and things I'd done.

I/we could see the mirror breaking apart, and I/we shouted our names and it exploded in a burst of light. When the light faded, the mirror was still there but our images had melded into one who was both of us, no longer separated. The voice from before spoke again, and this time it was a single word, Enter.

So i/we walked into the mirror, into a circular stone room. The ceiling was high, not too high, not as much as the dining room's, but still maybe four meters or so

The room was bare except for two things, one was a circular altar, about a meter and a half tall and maybe half a meter in diameter, made of one solid block of stone and the other was a wooden stand, and on top of the stand, an old gray eagle. It looked up at me when I walked in, and stared at me. I walked towards the altar to inspect it, it was clearly old but unlike the other rooms in the house this one was clean, there was no dust on the floor or the altar itself.

there was an inscription on the altar, written in the same symbols as the names under the portraits in the gallery, and i could not understand them

I traced the symbols with a finger, and there was power in them, a low-level thrumming that i could almost feel, like the shadow of a ghost if that makes any sense

The best comparison i have is seeing the world when you've been born wearing a soldering mask, it's there and you can almost make it out, but it's not a sense you've ever really used before. Suddenly there's this spot of light from the soldering torch, so bright it manages to shine through the mask. It's barely a dot, but it's the first time you see anything. It was like the symbols were humming, and i was thinking maybe i could understand the song if i could listen more clearly.

That's when the eagle spoke, "All the Masters are dead".

There was such finality to those words. I looked up at it, and it stared into my eyes, and repeated itself, "All the Masters are dead". And it hurt me to hear that, it was saying it and it was convinced it was true and it wasn't going to do anything but give up and wait for the end.

It angered me. I told it that I was going to be the new master. that I'd made my way across the house and earned the access to this room, and I was going to be the new master and I would restore the house.

The eagle looked down and said "Then all the Masters will be dead".

It looked up at me again, with those bright orange eyes and went on. "You made your way here, you survived this far, you have done what no one has been able to do in centuries. Now turn back. There is nothing you can do, the house will die one way or the other." "I know I can restore it." "Maybe. But would you? If the price you had to pay was your life, would you still do it?"

I had come so close. i was there, i knew i could do it. but if i died... nobody would know what i'd achieved. i could quit, leave and there'd be no shame in it. Except that i would know. I had this feeling deep down that not everything was lost, that i would be able to make a difference. I had to do it, because if I didn't I'd always know I was too afraid to take the chance

I looked back at the eagle and held its stare. "If that is the price for failing, I will pay it".

It held my gaze for a few seconds, then nodded and told me to put both hands on the altar and open myself up. If I was the right one i would know what to do, or else nothing would happen. I did as I was told, and again I could almost hear the music. Except this was not something you listen with your ears, it sounded in my chest and I could feel it in my head. It was speaking to me, and there was a turning point in the melody when I could undestand its words, and the realization of it felt like a supernova in my mind, it was kissing Nina all over again, it was the feeling of being in the absolutely right place

The music was in me, and I could feel the house playing its part in it, and I could feel how its notes were faint and weak, but now that I knew how to play I added my own instrument to it, and it rose around me in a crescendo until it was again strong and clear and triumphant.

I opened eyes that I hadn't realized were closed, and now the symbols on the altar shone with silver light and I could read the symbols, and they spoke of ancient power and long-lost wisdom. My hands were still on the altar and through it I could feel the entire house, I was connected to it, there were so many rooms I had yet to visit, so many wonderful things I would discover. I looked at the eagle again, it was staring at me like only a bird of prey can.

It bowed its head to me, and then this one tear rolled down from its eye.

"I am sorry, Master. I wish you had failed, or that you had been a coward and left. Now it is coming, and your fate is tied to the house. Now all the Masters will be dead."

At that point, my perspective changed. Before, the entire dream had taken place in a first person point of view. I had seen with my own eyes, it had been me in there.

Now I was still me, but I was also the house, and it was a weird shift in perspective, dizzying at first

I could feel the something coming, and it hurt, like a jab in my heart

I could feel the house, its walls, i knew where the wolves were and what they were doing and i could feel how their den was also another way out of the house, i could feel the Keepers and they were stirring, life was returning to them and i knew who they were and what their story was

Then i knew they had come, and i remember bracing myself, thinking there would be some sort of blow or direct attack. i was going to defend myself and the house, i would not go down without fighting

Except that when they came, there was nothing i could do. I had expected some sort of monster attack, or perhaps an army trying to either take over or destroy the house. It was just people. Not even that, not even real people. I don't know how else to describe them. They just walked through the walls like they weren't there, because for them they weren't. They were less real than the house, they weren't even aware that they were walking through it, but their just being there was agony.

I couldn't hate them, they didn't know what they were doing. i saw the wolves run at them, try to bring one down, but they went right through them. one way, anyway. i saw this one wolf jump to bite this one man, this Forbes 400-type talking on his phone and go right through him, but while the man didn't even notice it, the wolf, who had been this magnificient gray beast, came out old and weak and fell to the ground and died.

I ordered the wolves to back away from them, and they did, but many of them had already died

I tried to lead them away, and then push them away, all the time trying to somehow tell them to go away, to tell them that they were destroying this beautiful thing without even knowing or caring.

But they just went on, not noticing i was there, nothing i did was even noticed by them.

And all that time, their being there was wrecking the house. their passing ate the gardens like they were trailing acid, when they walked through a wall it crumbled, and the wooden panels decayed, and i could feel what the house felt.

I did my best to repair the damage, to shore the walls as best as i could the moment one of them had been through it, to make the house rearrange itself so they wouldn't destroy it outright. They left as they'd arrived, just walked away completely unaware of where they'd been, and that's when i collapsed. i fell on my knees and then on the side, and i was again in my own body, laying next to the stone altar in the room i'd never left. i felt weak, exhausted, and hurt. How could so many people be so blind?

The eagle glided to the floor and landed next to me, told me that he too felt that way. that at least i'd managed to survive this one time, despite his own fears, and that its only hope was that i would survive the next one. And the one after that.

After a while i got up and walked down the stairs and the eagle followed, i came to the dining room again and the keepers were waiting for me. no one spoke, there was nothing to be said. we walked outside and we looked at the damage done. most of it could be repaired, in time, but some things, and i remember looking at the dead wolves, would never be the same

The Keeper of the House put a hand on my shoulder and told me that i'd done everything anyone could have done. that i should rest, because i had to be ready for the next time. she finished by thanking me, and telling me that sometimes death is not the worst possible alternative.

Caught
Seeing his opening, Owain did the unexpected, and headbutted Slipstream several times in quick sucession, and then pinned him against a wall.

- You think there's nothing I can offer her? You think I haven't thought about the future? I love her, Oliver. And I can offer her a life beyond this world, in a place where she won't have to wear a mask to hide who she is, where she will be loved and respected!

Slipstream's body was shaking violently, and Owain moved back a half-step while still holding him by the arms. He was about to continue, but a swift knee in the groin cut him off. Reeling, he let go of Slipstream, and barely had time to roll to avoid the asp aimed at his head.

- You bastard! You treacherous bastard! All this time you promised to watch over her and then you do this? I should have killed you off the moment I saw you!

Rolling to avoid another attack, Owain aimed a kick to the back of Slipstream's knee and brought him down, and then lunged at him. They grappled on the floor a few minutes, until they were both locked in strangleholds.

- Will... you... listen to me?

- Will... you... roll over... and die?

- I want... take her to Arcadia. She will be... she will be happy. I... promise...

- Shut... up... you bastard...

Both of them, Slipstream's face beet red now that the mask had come off during the tussle, and Owain a deep purple, heard the "Ahem" and the impatient tapping sound of a bare foot on wood. Looking up, they saw Avery towering above them, wearing Owain's overcoat.

- Will you both stop that, or should I have Orias teleport you two to a mudpit?

Graduation
Feelgood stood up, and stretched his arms and back. He reached for the table, closed and picked up the book, and walked to the shelf to put it away. As he did, he turned and adressed Avery, who was still sitting at the table. - We're done, then. No more reviewing tonight. Go, get some rest, you've earned it.

Avery flashed a tired smiled, and looked at her notebook, her small and neat handwriting covering every page of it.

- So that was human history. Kinda makes you wonder how we're still around, doesn't it?

- You're telling me? Sometimes I'm surprised your kind managed to find their way down from the trees.

- Only sometimes? - She smiled again, and stretched.

- Yes. The rest of the time I'm convinced they fell and were too clumsy to climb back up.

They both laughed, and Avery closed her notebook and put it away. - Sleep well. We're to meet your brother tomorrow morning at 8, and it's already past 2.

She stood up and picked up her things, bid him good night and left for her room. He waited for a minute or two until he heard her door close, and then headed for his desk, kneeled behind it, and withdrew an envelope from a hidden compartment. From inside it he took a handful of papers and after going over them, selected one in particular and sat at the desk. He then went over the list written in it, crossing out some items and writing notes next to others.

Dark before dawn
The warehouse, run down and seemingly abandoned, stood surrounded by closed-down factories and deserted storefronts. Most of the streetlights in the area had long ago burned out, or had been busted, so that the only light shining on it came from a sickly-looking sickle moon.

The inside of it wasn't any better. One whole side was filled with half-rotten cardboard boxes, stacked floor to ceiling in derelict piles. Heavy tarps covered the broken windows, and flapped loosely against the night wind. Debris was spread out throughout the otherwise empty floor, except for a section that had been recently cleaned off.

There, slumped against a support beam and seemingly unconscious, was a man. A single chair was propped a few feet away in front of him, surrounded by a number of floor lamps. These were turned off at the moment, but extension cords led off towards the darkened wall.

The man's head lolled weakly.

A door opened on the far end, and three men entered. The one in the middle walked a couple of feet ahead of the others, and as he walked he swinged his arms to the sides, warming up. The other two dragged heavy-looking burlap bags behind them.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZFIRSTTHEYKICKTHELIVINGCRAPOUTOFHIMTHISTIMEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

His head was yanked back, and he could smell the rancid breath of a gangster inches away from his face. He couldn't help but gag at the stench, a mix of cabbages and stale meat. He forced back the nausea and managed to stare into the bloodshot eyes.

- Not even a whimper. Good. I'll enjoy breaking you that much more.

XXXXXXXDONOTKNOWBUTYEAHTHEYDRUGGEDHIMANDBEATHIMUPANDTHENTHEYHITHERTOOXXXXXXXXXX

Her head spun from the blow, and blue spots danced in her eyes when she opened them, but she forced herself to keep them open and tried to focus her blurry eyesight on the mobster coming towards her, menacingly swinging the golf club.

- Wha's the matter, lil' girl? Can't cut it in the big boy leagues? Well how 'bout we set you up with a dis'bility handicap, eh?

She saw the club rise and tried to turn to air but she could not focus through the haze, and when it came down all she could do was force herself not to cry out. Pain flowed like white-hot liquid fire up her leg and into her head, burning away at her already thin grip of consciousness.

The world slowed down around her. She could still see the mobster in front of her, and see his lips move, but could no longer hear his taunts. Like a film in slow motion, she saw him raise the club once more and bring it down on her, but it really was like watching a film. It was not happening to her. She turned her head to look at Owain were he had been lying, still heavily drugged and bound to the beam. To her surprise she saw that he was now awake and had stood up, and now was straining desperately against his bonds, his eyes bulging and his face a mask of rage and desperation. Stupid git, he was just going to make his injuries that much worse. The cut in his forehead was still bleeding, the purple blood giving him a ghastly look. His mouth was open... was he shouting? She could not hear anything, only the deafening silence registered. And there were the other mobsters, too, the ones guarding Owain and who were now laughing openly at his anguish, handguns ready at their sides. Something moved in the periphery of her vision, and she turned back in time to see the club being raised once more, and knew that when it came down it would be the last time, and the darkness would finally take her.

She looked up, and stared at her attacker's eyes. She would not show fear. A memory of a line from a book she'd once read came to her mind, of all things. Something about living her second life as she looked at death in the face. Who was that from? It seemed appropriate, though. The club was now at the top of its trajectory, and the mobster's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as he looked down on her. Still she held her gaze, defiant.

It was then that the mobster broke eye contact, turned to his right, and then slowly looked up. In an instant, his face went from surprise, to shock, to absolute terror. In her dreamlike state, she too turned to her left. The first thing she noticed was that Owain was no longer bound to the beam. He was also no longer in his real form, he'd finally managed to change and had grown and now the slavering jaws of a silvery white dragon were coming down on her attacker. The guards were shooting at him, but the bullets bounced off the scales that covered him and he ignored them, and biting down on her would-be murderer's head, he lifted him off his feet, and grabbing the legs with taloned claws he tore the mobster in three.

Blood, warm yet icy cold against her feverish skin, splashed against her face and made her jump back. She recoiled from the gore that spread before her, and as she crawled backwards saw through blurry eyes as Owain slaughtered the remaining mobsters, rending and tearing them apart with fang and claw. They didn't stand a chance, he picked them off one at a time even as they tried to run away.

She struggled to stand up once but failed

mwahahaha XD the animorph activation roll is intelligence-based! that's why the drug didn't let him change, he was too disoriented!

On his own
Jonathan purposefully walked down the dimly-lit aisle, and ran a hand across the bookshelf to his left. He could see the dust motes dancing in the air before him, and settling on the books around him. He took a deep breath, and listened.

Silence. He'd replaced the glaring, annoying and buzzing fluorescent lights with softer yellow bulbs during the renovations, and he was quite satisfied with the results. He relished the silence, grateful for the thick walls of the brownstown that muffled the chaos outside.

Extending an arm, he brushed his fingers against the books as he walked past them. He could tell them apart by the covers, the old editions lined up in perfect order. He'd selected each one himself, hunting down the copies across a hundred different yet similar little shops when he could, finding others by rather less conventional means. He was going to regret selling them, but he'd already selected the ones he was keeping for his own library and he did have to pay a mortgage at the end of the month.

At the same slow pace, he walked until he reached the ancient oak counter that had in the end made up his mind to buy the place for the asked price. Somethings were not to be bargained for, and the building was worth definitely more to him than he had paid for it. It was in a terrible state of disrepair and the neighborhood bordered on dangerous, but these two were things he had already started to work on. With a sigh, he rested his hands on the old cash register, an antique contraption of brass and steel he'd found buried under a pile of junk at an estate sale in Missouri, and smiled.

He was ready at last.

After a cursory glance around to make sure everything was in order, Jonathan walked towards the door and turned the OPEN/CLOSE sign to show the store was open, and after choosing and taking a book walked back to sit behind the counter.

Business was slow at first, only

One and another and many more
&&&&&& reeled, disoriented by the blood loss and still unable to grasp what was happening to him. His vision blurry, he tried to stand up but his legs failed. Falling to his knees, still he managed to

CHIMP
Cybernetic Human Interaction Multiplatform Proxy (Mark I)

Six inches tall and weighting half a pound, the small remote-controlled monkey serves as Kelsey's eyes, ears and mouth on the field.

Remote Sensory Rank 11

Visual+Auditory - 8 miles (3 per rank)

Extras: Subtle (Flat +2), No Conduit (+1 per rank)

Flaws: Medium (-1 per rank)

Subtotal: 35 -->7

Communication Rank 3

Auditory - Statewide (4 per rank)

Extras: Subtle (Flat +2), Area (+1 per rank), Selective (+1 per rank)

Flaws: Limited (-1 per rank)

Subtotal: 17 --> 4

Total: 11

Dreamworld part 3
i woke up in my bed, and i remember having had a really strange dream but i couldn't remember what it'd been. [15:06:01]  the eagle was waiting for me downstairs, perched on a window [15:06:18]  it looked so damn beautiful [15:06:58]  it told me that it hoped i'd rested well, and that there was something i should probably see [15:07:18]  it was early, the sun was barely rising [15:20:11]  it flew out the window and i followed it, there was a set of doors in the next room that led to the gardens and i walked over there, and they opened out to the same garden where i'd seen arcadia [15:20:16]  she wasn't there this time, though [15:35:16]  winter was coming, the trees had lost most of their leaves and the grass was browning, but there was fruit on bushes, red and purple berries [15:40:13]  the eagle was standing on a branch, when i walked up to were it was it told me that the timing was perfect [15:40:30]  i asked it what it meant, and it told me to look up [15:40:44]  there were dragons flying over us [15:40:51]  hundreds of them [15:41:34]  huge, magnificient creatures of every color, flying effordlessly [15:41:58]  the rising sun shone off their scales [15:43:00]  it was breathtaking, the most impressive thing i've seen in my life [15:44:01]  the eagle asked me if i too thought it was an impressive sight [15:45:22]  its words were "Impressive, aren't they? Theirs is an entirely different kind of magic, one that I could never understand" [15:48:38] <Zlatko> i asked where they were going, and it told me that it didn't know, that only "she", and it pointed to one of the lead dragons, a massive blue, knew [15:49:01] <Zlatko> then it told me to look closer [15:49:30] <Zlatko> so i did. the Blue had a Rider. [15:50:25] <Zlatko> i felt that it was too much, all those dragons were following this one person, i asked who she was [15:50:44] <Zlatko> the eagle told me that that was something i would have to find out [15:50:58] <Zlatko> but later, and to just enjoy the view for as long as it lasted [15:51:32] <Zlatko> i did. it's times like these when i wish i knew how to paint [15:52:02] <Zlatko> dragons flying at dawn

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