James Crow

Those are all very helpful and I think I know how to do it...maybe? The problem is it's also an action scene an action is not my native tongue. But I broke my brain on an idea that helps that....maybe. Give me five-ish hours and I think I'll do something....maybe! Other news, I have more ideas! I finally came up with my favorite trope character, the gentalman thief, and he fits in one of worlds! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! And after I re-dub the episode I need too I will start showing all the places I see.

I just started to wake up and realised that months, MONTHS, have flow by. MONTHS! I don't know who was in charge of my body and mind at the time but I want to speak to them. On other topics. Random question. How would one re-dub a story. Like old kung fu movie dubbing. The bad dub where the lips move for a good minute and all they say is yes. If I can't figure this out I could always ignore it and try some other story, but I think it would be funny and an inside joke when the story comes out. So, any thoughts?

Kind of makes me think of that Tim Allen santa movie. With that said it inspired me in two completely diffrent directions. One very dark, and one with a good ending. And I think I know how to combine them.

Humanity is at its worst when at war. Each war reminds us of that, but the Final War went to far. Humanity invented two new weapons. The G-Bomb and C-Bomb. And because of them there will never be another war. The G-Bomb, or genetic eleminator bomb, tore through our genetics and made everybody lose one of their five senses. Touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Everyone lost one, even the next generation. Seemingly random it stole a part of us. And no matter what medicine was tried, nothing could help. The religious claimed one thing, the government another, and businesses a third. And people let them, till they tried to take up arms again. Wounds still fresh. So a group rose up, around the world, in unison. They called themselves the Innocent, and they said one word, NO. And that was that. No more war. For now, while the wounds fester and heal. But wounds heal and are forgotten, as will these, as it has with every war ever. Hence why these are just wounds. Now scars people remember, and that is what the other bomb caused. The C-Bomb, or chrono stasis bomb, left scars. Deep scars. Where they fell time froze completely. Everything could be seen as if someone paused a video. And trying to enter the blast zones resulted in nothing. No one could get in, it was like the hardest wall of clearest glass. You could see people, loved ones, strangers, trapped. These places became known as the Scars of the war. Then a rumor started that if you could get in your loss sense would return. If. If you could, and if it did, then what. Tecnobable explained it as the everyone's senses are trapped in the Scars. And they built a suit to go in... Will it work? Will it be sabotaged? Are the senses restored in the Scars?

I like the idea of something like Death of the Mighty Pen. But honestly am game for anything.

The Labyrinth looks fun, and I looked at the Werwolf games a bit. I will look deeper later. But I want something more simple and much complex. Let me attempt to explain. My buddy that got me my new job that blesses me with time and attitude to once again write reintroduced me into D&D. And then we stopped. He had classes so he could improve his spot at work and a full time job, and I have a new job. But now I have the itch. And I have tried Jumpchains and CYOAs but there is a problem. People. I need some one else to play with, and I know it's childish but it's true. Being in a group and adventuring is funner. Like a vacation or a good restaurant, having some one to share the experience with makes it better. Now the pitch. I want to make a perpetual machine. The idea is there will be no one master to the game. There will be a pool of quest anyone can take. Higher quest add complications with more or less if people work together. And if you want to spice up your quest you add a ... letting anyone to add a complication. Nothing fatal, and if you can't figure out how to make your character get out alive you have a few choices, either take a serious flaw, like lost limb or eye of loss of ability, or call for help which end your story bit with a HELP. And there could be hirerlings, character concepts anyone can use. And the world will be built by everyone's description of the world. And if it's bigger, then I can add more of the complicated ideas I have. That's most of what I have planned for now. And I'm still not sure how good it sounds, but I like the idea of no one person that everything depends on. An rpg ran by the players. A perpetual rpg. So, thoughts?

I have a story likelike idea and like to hear what anyone thinks. The idea would be a rpg like story that anyone can join called The Adventure's Guild. And the premise would be you make your adventure and go on quest. The guest are more like a story starter that you write about completing. If you want to complicate it you would end your writing with a ... And that gives anyone a chance to add a complication with a bit of luck thrown in (a coin flip, die roll, ect.) with one result making you worse off. Example: You are pick herbs and want a complication, so you get captured by bandits with a coin flip: heads you have a serious wound or tails you are just tied up. If it goes well enough there would be an overarching plot with twist and turns. So what do you guys think?

Grampa likes metaphors On how to get through life. Often very common With ends I think you know. One stone One step One bite One day at a time. Grampa changed the metephors, As i got through life. Though still very common, Ends I think we know. One complication, One crisis, One bill, One day, at a time. Now my metaphors. At grampa's end of life. With common. Ends we all know. One tear. One tragedy. One death. One day.....

Day Four: Fever Dreams and Loose Ends (ooc: Man these post are longer than I thought. This should be the last day needed to have james return so this weekend I will catch up on the days, stat telling spooky and cozy tales, and stop being so serious. Till then, take care.)

Day Three: The Inevitable In all of the places in the Mighty Pen there is one you must go to if you ever visit is the Boaz Room. Though you might wish to prepare a reservation, for you see the Boaz Room is simply...no, that is completely the wrong word, for you see, the Boaz Room has nothing simple about it. It is home of the most complex art, grandest entertainment, and heavenly food. There is only one place in the entire Pen that could rival it, and that is the forbidden treasure vaults that lie deep beneath the Mighty Pen. Though, due to recent events, the Boaz Room is rather empty. And because of that the elven receptionist is beyond board. She has counted the tiles in the mosaic flooring, even going so far as growing attached to a slightly faded one and naming it Amaranth. With a sigh she guesses that today is going to be the same and starts to day dream about a prince that will sweep her off her feet, carry her into a bedroom and..."can you help me?" "DO YOU HAVE A RESERVATION!" she shrieks out of instinct at the sound of the quite voice. "no sorry," responds the startled Shy. The receptionist starts to turn beet red out of embarrassment. "Amaranth, why didn't you warn me." The tile did not respond. "I'm sorry but I can't help you without a reservation." The rejected Shy looks down and apologies as she starts to leave. Panicked, the receptionist almost leaps over the desk, "WAIT!" Shy stops and turns. Quickly the receptionist composes herself and straightens her black dress. "If you do me a favor then I, might look the other way." She gives the teenage girl a smile. Shy claps her hands and rushes over, "I'lldoanythingthing!thankyou!thankyou!thankyou!" "Calm down, now what did you need." "My friend caught a cold and I wanted to know what food would help him." "Hmmmm. I think chicken noodle would be the best." "Thank you!" Shy said as she went to leave. "Wait. Aren't you going to wait for your order?" Shy started to fidget and play with her hands. "Well you see, I was hoping I could...maybe..." The receptionist smiled, "That must be some friend." Shy nodded. "Then let me get you advice on where to find what you need." Shy started to glow with excitement. After awhile Shy had a list and what to do. "Thank you." She went to leave then stopped and turned back around, "What was the favor you wanted from me?" The receptionist smiled, "Come back and visit me, okay." Shy nodded. "Oh and tell your friend that he should wear a coat when its cold." Shy turned a little red and nodded thanking her once again. As Shy left the receptionist sighed, "Well Amaranth, she isn't a prince, but beggars can't be choosers." Shocked at what she said her face went through the entire spectrum of red as she shook her head and hid her face in embarrassment. The tile did not respond. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Inside the Boaz Room, Zool and Brighid where drinking tea and talking about old times when they hear the elven receptionist say in a frantic tone, "Here she is!" Brighid just had enough time to turn around before being tackled by Shy. As she was about to ask for some clarification she looked at Shy and saw tears running down her face, "Please come quick, James is dying." Shy explained to Brighid as they ran back to the tavern. James was sick so she made him chicken noodle soup and when he ate it he started to throw up and clutch his stomach in pain. Multiple illnesses and cures rushed through the talented healers mind as they made it to James' room, but it was easy to see what was the cause. Angrily she turn to Shy and said, "Scheherazade..." She started to get ready to scold the young girl when a pain voice said, "your food did the trick." Brighid turn around again to see James sitting up on his bed, sweating, trying to not show how much pain he was in. "your cooking is making my sickness run from my body." *ULP* He quickly covered his mouth. "violently. very. violently." She caught on quick what he was doing as Shy's smile lit up the room from the praise. Shaking her head a little, "You will spend the night with me tonight Scheherazade. James needs his rest." As she escorted the girl out James said, "ah, what brings the witch here," as if he just realized she was here. "Let's go," she growled as they left. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Later that night James kept rolling around in pain. "stupid author, i knew..."*blaaarg* "Your an idiot!" From the doorway stood a brilliant, and overly kind, healer. "She didn't cook the chicken in the soup. Eating raw chicken is, how to put this gently STUPID!" "and to make it worse the witch returns." Brighid walked over to James and put a vile to his lips. "Dink this, it will help the pain and nausea. And I am not witch. For the thousandth time." James gave a weak smile as he finished the vial. "you just..." "And what is even your problem with witches anyway. Did one curse you or...." she stopped when she say his face. Tears running down his face. "..reminded me of..." he looked at her and she felt the room around her start to shift. "my problem, curse." His smile sent a shiver down her spine and she could swear she was starting to see her breath. With a flash of lightning in his eyes he said, "Let me tell you a story." -------------------------------------------------------------------- **The Prince and the Witch** Long ago, in a far away land there once was a kingdom called Crow's Peak. And as the sun rose a young man stood shirtless in a small field. In a doorway of a small shed near the field a woman stood. "Young prince, please return to bed before you catch cold. Or do you wish to address your subjects," she joke waving her hands to the crows. "My loyal subjects, listen to my plea," the crows stopped eating and looked at the boy, "Push back the sun my men, for I want more time with my love. Now go, REVERSE TIME!" with a wave of his hand the crows took flight and he turned to look at the woman, and smiled. Her hair had silvered with age, but time had been kind to her. And the boy could only see the laughter in her eyes and the smile she always wore when he was around. She shook her head and giggled, "You flatter me young prince, however will I return the favor." The two lovers retreated back into the shed. This was not new. It started when the older woman first came to the castle, back when her hair was still gold and showed no sign of silver. But she was so much older then she thinks, before the young prince made it his mission to always see her smile. A few hours pass and the sun lies high in the sky, and the prince is deep in the castle's dungeons. Flinging open a door he sees the older woman, bleeding, bound with chains to the wall. He starts to rush to her when he is grabbed and before he can speak he is thrown to the ground at the feet of the king. "i told you will come for me," came a voice form the cell. "burn the witch." The boy looked up at his father. Cold eyes of fire gazed back at him. Then he heard the woman start to laugh and looked at her, and started to shake. She was crying. He started to rush to her only to be dragged away by guards. No matter how he struggled and pleaded he was dragged behind his father. "it is for your own good." Later, as the sun fell the young prince was standing by his father, looking down at the older woman tied to a pyre. She looked at him, "Always bring people smiles," she yelled up to him as they set her ablaze. She tried not to scream, but the fire is persistent, and finally she did. As the moon rose and the fire finally died, the boy walked out the castle gate. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "And as he wandered the name Crow's Peak shorted to Crow, and no longer a prince he went by his name..." "james," Brighid said with her hands covering her mouth and tears in her eyes. James turned with a cocky grin, "Or I'm just lying." "Why you," she bolted up right and stomped out of the room. She stopped at the door, "you're a bad lair you know." "yep," he responded looking out the window. Gripping the frame of the door a little harder she sighed. "That medicine only stops the pain, you still are sick. so rest up." She left. "yep," James said once again, a fire burning in his eyes and the sound of a woman scream roaring in his ears. But perhaps the fire is only reflections of out the window, and the scream is the wind through the boards of the tavern. Perhaps. (DUH DUH DUH! Times up for now. So same thing will delete and add when I get time. But I just couldn't write this now. I am having so much fun, man I forgot this how this felt. See ya guys soon! And I am 100 percent sorry for using fellow pennites in my story here but James and Shy live in the Pen, so I am deeply sorry again. I will treat them with the respect they deserve but if you have a problem I will remove it. That being said, I am going to start dragging more pennites into this collection of tale, and start telling more actually stories in here. Thank you all so much and I hope you are doing well and having fun. Till next time.)

Agreed.

Day Two: Paths well Traveled {Author Note: I found a new job with a new hours of work, so I was thinking of writing again. Then you sent out the note to everyone, made it not hard to see the stars aligned. Though it has been hard for me to start up again. I do like the idae for the nursery , as a place for people to help an idea grow. And thank you Snypiuer for the welcome, and everything else.} The writing desk started to scribble on the piece of paper and James looked over at it. Nodded an agreement as a dress smacked into his face. Annoyed he looked over at the closet that Scheherazade vanished into over a day ago and gently growled, "Any day would be nice Shy." "I need the perfect outfit," came the distant voice in the closet. James just shook his head. "There! Hows this look." James watched as Shy came out in the closet in a stunning silk scarlet dress. More practical for dancing than the autumn chill. "Your going to catch a cold in that." She just looked at him blankly, "But does it look good?" James face palmed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shy almost flys down the stairs into the Tavern of the Quill's main room, "Guess yous back?" She dances around the tables to the cheers and applause of patrons old and new. And they get louder as James walks down in his duster, giving small waves and a few over the top bows. "BOO!" comes a deep, silky voice. Bringing silence and confusion to the room as everyone looks for the culprit. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It echos around the great hall till finally someone says, "THERE!" and points. On the bar top is a creature most foul and hideous. As a great pennite once said, "A demon that has cursed our kind for so long, each and every one of us is born with full and complete hatred . . . and fear, of him." Yes, the terror of Snypiuer, a DUST BUNNY! Realizing it has been spooted it quickly vanishes under a table. And when a brave pennite looks...it is not there. Shy starts to get wide eyed, spinning quickly to look at James who immediately says, "No, you can't keep it." And with Shy starting to pout the tavern once again erupts into laughter and merriment. And unbeknownst to all, the dust bunny watches, preparing his next return. As Shy and James head outside, ready to take in the sights of the Mighty Pen. They see pennites all getting ready for the harvest, and the festivals that follow. They see old friends and new, giving waves and swapping pleasantries. Shy bounces around, beyond thrilled to greet everyone, and relishing the compliments on her dress. But soon the autumn chill starts to take hold. James realized that Shy was no longer sprinting pass him turned to ask her whats the hold up and sees her hugging herself and shivering enough that he almost feared she fall apart. She shivered, it was so much colder than se though, but she didn't want to admit that James was right. Then she heard him say, "Hey Shy," she started to look up at him, ready to tell him to shut up when a duster covered her, "Mind carrying my coat I don't want to wear it any more." She watch as he turned and said hi to another passing pennite. She smiled and wrapped the duster tighter around her and sprinted to catch up.

Day One: Welcome Home The Mighty Pen; a place of thousands of thoughts and thousands of possibilities, a place that is different to each person that walks its halls. And on this particular night we find ourselves at the famed Tavern of the Quill. The warm music and stories shared from the main rooms drifts up to the rooms where guest sleep and relax in private. Though one room sees quite, to quite. As if nothing exist beyond the door. Then comes the sound of rusting of paper. Looking into the room does not reveal much of the one you lives there. A simple bed, one nice leather chair, and... a desk. A writers desk. A relic of long ago. On it is a piece of paper fluttering in the wind, words slowly appear upon it. "It has been a long time hasn't it. Life has led me astray and for awhile I thought I had lost my voice. Turns out my voices were helping me and the only reason I didn't lose everything. I was, for lack of better terms, marionetted by my own puppets. But time has changed and a summon must be answered. I will post everyday for 31 days, to rebuild my writing habit, and maybe myself" As the words fade from the paper the door opens and into the room walks a teenage girl and young man. They both look around the room, smiling the girl says, "Does this mean what I think it means James?" And with a cocky smirk James say, "It does Scheherazade, we're home."

It seems cars are always problems. But I hope it's not to much of a pain and you get it fixed soon.

This is a great poem. Thank you for writing it.

I'm in the same boat as Snypiuer. Never done this, but willing to learn. Though at first I might be a bit sheepish!!

I can happily say that the muse is not the same for the both, and if I told you who the muse was it would change the poems. Also thank you for the compliment, and I'm glad the second one felt like a walts, since I was trying to go in that direction.

These are two poems. One writen awhile ago but never posted....at least I don't think I did?...and the other is one I wrote at work, insanley yelling at myself trying to make it work, then doing a victory dance. I know you guys/gals didn't need to know this, but I felt like sharing, so there some insight into my method/madness. ♣♣♣ ♣♣♣ ♣♣♣♣ ♣♣♣ ♣♣ ♣♣♣ ♣♣♣♣ ♣ ♣♣♣ ♣♣♣♣ ♣♣ How Many Words They say a pictures worth a thousand word, And perhaps that's true. But how many words must I give, To have one more day with you. You haven't been gone so long, That I've forgotten the jokes we shared. Or those many nights, We showed each other we cared. It hurts so much without you, I don't know how I stand. And I know this was never part Of our master plan. Now my eyes sting, As the tears fall like rain. And there's no way I can continue To mask all this pain. Now I'm begging With all my charms, Asking how many words must I give, To have you back in my arms? ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣ What would you do if I asked you to dance? Would you take the chance and risk the fall, as I guide you to the floor. As we sway in a trance, our eyes tell it all, and you know it won't be like before. Would it leads to romance. Would you accept the fall, hold me close, and ask for more. Would you smile as I advance. Because after all, we all know the answer for, When I ask you to dance.

We fell in love, as the world turns. We thought time had stopped, but the world turns. Before I knew it, the world turns, and I found myself all alone. As the world turns, time passed, and the world turns. I found myself looking at the stars, as the world turns. You came up to me, and the world turns. We laughed and caught up, as the world turns. And no matter where we end up, the world turns.

She stood on the balcony of one of the skyscrapers in the city. She was alone, only a single glass of wine to comfort her. She raised it and said, “A toast! To the passing of another year, and an end to all the pain!” She then put it to her lips and tasted the tears that had fallen into the glass. When it was finished she threw it to the side, and removed her high heels. She then climbed her way on top of the balcony railing. The wind roared in her ears, and the lights of the city danced in her eyes. The decision had not been easy to make, but in the end she felt like it was the only way. “Why am I doing this?” she asked herself, as she looked down. Tears came to her eyes as memories of the passing year came back to her. She remembered her little dog, Abby. Her bark, her smile, her hugs, her brown eyes. The way she had to make the world seem calm even in the greatest storms. But now all that remains is a shallow grave and memories turned nightmares. Like how on that one morning she had left for work, and came back to find Abby.....a tear fell from her eye....find Abby lying in the floor. More tears fell as she once again got ready to jump. A warm breeze caressed her as a lover would. Making her remember all those chances she had and let her fear hold her back. With anger in her eyes and voice she said, “Nobody will miss me!” Memories of all those missed chances flooding her mind. She remember starting a new job and seeing this cute guy. His smile, his quite voice, his shy glances at her. It made her heart race. She was ready to take the risk and ask him, but learned that her partner at work liked him also. So she gave up, knowing she never had a chance. She watched her tears fall like lone drops of rain down to the street below. She didn't want anymore pain. She just wanted this to end. Then as she lifted her foot she heard herself say, “Was it all bad?” Then memories of her family and friends passed in front of her. She remembered meeting this guy online. They where far from each other, and met in a magical kingdom. He had given her work some praise. Then she praised his, and they started to talk, then play like kids in the schoolyard. She had found her voice through their conversations. Maybe even something else....she gave a slight blush as her mind floated through the gutter and her imagination twisted the world around her. Another gust of wind shook her out of it and she once again looked down. She saw the people far below moving like ants, celebrating the new year. She lowered herself back onto the balcony, knowing her new year's resolution. She gave a soft sigh and said, “I will give it another year to get better. If it doesn't, I'll jump.” She grabbed her shoes and went to leave. Pausing at the door she give a slight giggle, remembering that she had done the same resolution for the pass thirteen years.

A few hours before the noise, in another part of the cave system........ “Are we there yet!” whined Scheherazade. “For the hundredth time no,” James responded, holding back his temper. “WHY!” pleaded Scheherazade, “I'm hungry!” James just shook his head and responded, “Well why don't you use your new found 'powers'.” “Why don't you check your watch!” she retorted. They stood there and glared at each other for awhile till they heard a groan not to far off, and went to investigate. There they found the body of the old Egyptian, still on his back, just groggily waking. “Glad to see that....” James started. Just to get cut off by the Egyptian pointing a finger into the sky and screaming, “BBBBBAAAAAALLLLLSSSSS!” James and Scheherazade looked up just in time to see a yellowish streak streak straight down and smack the old one in the face knocking him out....again. And as the thing started to zoom back from where it came James reached out and caught it by it's scrawny rubber neck. When it finally settled down, James and the rubber chicken locked eyes. Some people will tell you that great rivals are not born from nothing, but must be created. Well I tell you in the brief moment that there eyes lock, a rivalry of epic proportions was indeed born. And the chicken threw the first beak. Letting out a massive cry, “BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKKKKKKK!” It started pecking at James' hand. Who in turn flung it and proceeded to curse. The rubber chicken flew into the waiting arms of Scheherazade who gave it a fond embrace and said, “I will call you Chicky and you will be our mascot.” James shot her a death glare, babying his pecked hand. “What, he is perfect.” James gave a doubtful look, at which Scheherazade went to explain, “He is loyal, fearless, bounces back from everything, and likes me. The perfect mascot for our part.” James burst out laughing and retorted, “Stupid, bird-brain, rubber, poor judge of character!” She got right next to James' face, glaring at him and was about to retort when Chicky went, “BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWK,” right in his face. Scheherazade let out a giggle as James shook his head. Then glaring at the small rubber chicken said, “What next? A hoard of....” “RIIIIBIT!” James just shook his head, “My luck can't be this bad, can it?” He turned and saw the frogs, larger than the ones he saw before, hopping out of the fog. “Guess it is. Time to run....again!” He turned around, grabbed the old Egyptian by the foot, dragging him with. Scheherazade followed carrying Chicky. “Where are we going?” she asked, hearing the frogs getting closer. James looked around and saw a...door? 'well beggars can't be chooser,' he thought, then said, “Here.” And ran through the door, slamming it and blocking it right when Scheherazade made it in. They could here the amphibians out side, trying to break it down. “Now what James?” said Scheherazade, gasping for breath. He looked around and noticed the four of them where in a small library with only one way in and out, the way they came in. “Well we....” “BBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWKKKKKKKK!” James quickly covered his ears, sending a death glare to Chicky. Who was smugly stared back. Scheherazade just gave a smile. “Start pulling books off the shelves,” James said, still glaring at the rubber chicken. “Why?” “Because one should open a secret passage.” She shrugged and started flinging books left and right. One hit they waking Egyptian, putting him back to sleep. After awhile there was just one book left. James shrugged, “Always the last one.” He looked at the title as he pulled it. It read, Alice in Wonderland. Fitting he thought, as a trap door opened beneath them. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ Now in the present........... Grimmael, Alex and Brighid looked around trying to find the source of the noise when all of a sudden a part of the ceiling opened and James, Ozymandias, and Scheherazade from it right into the hot spring, getting everyone wet. James and Scheherazade looked at the others as Ozymandias floated on his back. “Brighid,” Scheherazade screamed as she ran and embraced her, “I'm glad your not a witch, or you would have melted.” Brighid gave James a dirty look, knowing that it was him who kept insisting that she was a witch. Then she looked back at Scheherazade and said , “I'm glad your....” “Ooooo,” Scheherazade interupted, “You need to meet our parties new mascot!” She looked around. “Where is he?” she asked when she couldn't find Chicky. James just got out of the hot spring and started to saw, “I hope he.....” Then from the hole above came Chicky, saying his famous line, “BRAAAAAAAWWWWWWWKKKK!” And slamming into James, knocking him back into the hot spring, bounced right into Scheherazade waiting embrace. Scheherazade spun and proudly presented her new friend and team mascot to Brighid. “This is Chicky!” As soon as James' head broke the surface he screamed, “DEATH TO THE RUBBER ONE!”

James had no idea what that thing was that fell from the sky, and frankly he didn't care at this point. When he heard Brighid yell run he followed, and after awhile he found himself out of breath. She was right he need to face his fears and confess. “Brighid,” he started between gasp, “I think...no I know that I...” He turned to face her and found no one there. He was again alone. He put a hand over his face and started to laugh. After awhile, he slicked back his fog dampened hair and looked around. He wasn't familiar with this part of the cave. Then it clicked, he could see here! The fog wasn't so bad, in fact it was pocketed in one general area. Then he heard a familiar, thunderous, powerful voice say, “What will you wish for?” James' eyes widened. That was the voice of the lamp. But that could only mean one thing. “Scheherazade,” he said rushing into the fog. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ Inside the fog, the voice spoke to Scheherazade, “Do you remember the first time I asked you that?” She nodded, “I was alone.” The voice responded, “No. You were beaten by a drunk of a father, ignored by a abused mother, and tortured by a sister.” She just shook her head, “no, they loved me.” The voice laughed, “Love? Love? No my dear, no one ever loved you. At least the way you wanted. Do you remember the wish you asked?” “A.....fri....end,” she replied, starting to shiver. “Close my dear,” the voice said, teasing her. “But that was not the wish you asked for, the one I granted. You truly wished for it all to....” At that moment a large figure swooped in, grabbing Scheherazade and holding her close. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ Outside of the fog, the figure stopped moving and put her down. Though she knew who it was, she still turned and looked up at her hero's face. And there, giving her that irresistible grin that let her knew everything was going to be all right, was James. And there, in the caves eerie glow, more was said in a few looks then what most say in a life time. Then Scheherazade broke the silence, “James. Don't leave me again.” She turned, not wanting to show her tears to her hero. “Never again,” he replied. Scheherazade turned back to face him, anger in eyes and voice. “LIAR! You are going to sacrifice your life to bring back that filthy shadow man. And leave me all alone again.” “Destiny, not life,” he corrected. “WHATEVER!” she roared, “The fact is that you are going to be gone. Did you ever think of others? Of the people that would miss you? Of the people you are going to leave behind? of me?” With tears falling from her eyes she stared at James. He walked over and knelt in front of her. “Let you in on a secret. I'm a selfish ass. That being said, I have no intention of letting that Shadow have his way.” They locked eyes, and all the cave went silent. Then they gave each other a hug. After the long embrace Scheherazade asked James, “So what now?” “Well,” James said as he stood back up. Then with a grin he said, “We go find the wicked witch Brighid.” Scheherazade covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. And with a nod they where off, leaving hand in hand. But, unseen to them, a shadowy figure watched. Stunned by their statement. He could only stand there in silence as the two left. And soon, regaining his wits he was off, with one goal. To tell the only person he could trust, his lover, Brighid.....

The fog had not retreated like normal fog, it had merely gone to feed on easier prey. Sadly for Scheherazade, for she was that prey. For in the place of the masked man was a small oil lamp. One she remembered finding outside her house long ago. One that she had read could grant wishes. Her eyes dried up as she stood, and almost trance like walked towards the lamp. Remembering the first time she found the lamp. She had felt worthless, scared, lonely. For every step she took closer, the fog grew heavier, hungrier. She remembered taking the lamp back inside. She fell to her knees in front of the lamp and rubbed it, as she had once long ago, before the fire. She remembered wanting a friend, and a voice. Then she heard that voice, the one that had haunted her ever since the fire, saying the same thing it did then, “What will you wish for?”

The fog started to dance around Scheherazade, like the flames she remembered. The cries of her family echoing around her. And all she could do was what she did then, fall to the floor and start to cry. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ In another portion of the room Brighid looked at James. He was shaking, she couldn't tell if it was from the damp chill or fear. Just like she couldn’t tell if tears were running down his face. And his eyes, fixed wide and never moving, stared at the mask. Finally Brighid had to ask, “What's so special about the mask, and why is it cracked?” Never looking up, James answered, “I wore it long ago, another life it seems. And it's cracked when I tried to put right a mistake I made, as a town burned because of it.” ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ Back in the fires of fog, Scheherazade was choking on the damp smoke. Tears staining her face, wondering why this was happening again. Then came a familiar voice, “What are you going to wish for?” She looked up, what little hope she had breaking when she saw a figure standing amongst the flames, wearing a mask.

Brighid was to far in thought to hear the sounds of something approaching. Then came a voice, “Brighid?” She looked up and saw the form of James. She ran towards him then stopped. Something was off. James was looking at a broken mask in his hand, and shaking. “James, what's wrong?” she asked. “Who where you talking to?” His voice sounding distant, scared. Not like the James Brighid had come to know. “Alex,” she responded. “Where is he?” James said hesitantly looking up from the mask, and avoiding Brighid's concerned gaze. She turned around saying, “He is right th....” She stopped. The fog had cleared up some and Alex was nowhere to be seen. Only a pile of bloody bandages. “oh,” James said quietly. Brighid stood there for a moment, looking at the bandages, then back towards James, who was looking at the mask again. “What's going on here James?” she asked. Then angrily added, “I'm getting tired of your silly games!” “i...i...i'm sorry,” James said. She looked at him, puzzled. Something had happened to him, something was wrong. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ Elsewhere under the Pen a shadowy man landed with grace befitting a ghost. He looked around the foggy cavern and saw James standing there with a grin on his face. “Hi Alex,” he said with a small wave. “James!” barked Alex, “What have you done with Brighid? And I'm fed up with these silly games!” James looked at him hurt. “Isn't me. Why is it that whenever something goes wrong you blame me?” “Habit,” hissed Alex, “I'm sorry. Now lets go find the others.” And he started to walk in a random direction into the fog. “What are you going to wish for?” James asked, not moving. “Simple, to make Brighid happy.” “hmmm, I figured you would wish that you were her lover.” Alex froze, then turned to James, who was now slowly circling him. “What do you mean?” Alex finaly asked. “Scheherazade told me what she saw of your memories when you two where together. Fragments,” Alex had a chill run up his spine. James just got a wider smile. “She thought nothing of it, I figured it out. You only have fragments, pieces.” Alex quickly shook his head, keeping his eyes on James, “Memory loss. A tragic event some....” “Stop lying to yourself!” barked James. “You are just making things up. Hoping, somewhere deep inside of you that it is true. Trying to hide that you are nothing but one of those filthy...” “no” “...good for nothing...” “stop” “.....shadow beings that Brighid hates!” “Shut up!” Alex barked and ran away into the fog. Leaving behind in the parting fog nobody, only a small hand mirror.