Patrick

Part 1 of 2 Four hundred and twenty eight....four hundred and twenty nine....four hundred and thirty....four hundred and thirty one... It almost never worked. Counting sheep to fall asleep simply did not live up to the hype Mum and Dad had told me about. This was the third night in a row, when I counted past several hundred and still wasn't asleep. It sucked to be sick. Why did it always happen to me? Not only am I sick, but I have to lie in this hospital ward. I hate hospitals! They stink, and I don't have my toys! Four hundred and fifty six....four hundred and fifty seven....four hundred and fifty eight... I'm only doing this because Mum and Dad have told me to. A sheep jumps, and then another, and then another, and so on. It's supposed to work. Why doesn't it work for me? And why can't my head stop hurting? How am I supposed to sleep like this? Four hundred and sixty nine....four hundred and seventy... I can hear voices outside my room. Who can be up at this time of night? Curiosity overcomes me. I stand up from the bed, careful not to get entangled in the wires connected to the devices monitoring my bodily functions. It isn't easy to reach the door, but once there, pressing my ear against it's cold surface I can make out what the voices on the other side are saying. "We came as fast as we could doctor. Are you sure?" My heart leaps with joy! Mum is here, and from what she says Dad is also here. I wonder why they come to visit me during the night though. "Unfortunately, yes. There is nothing we can do." That is Dr. O'Brien. I don't like it when he looks at me. He always has an inquisitive look about him. I hear the voices move closer towards the door. I have to get back into the bed! I have no time to make it, as I'm only halfway across the hospital ward, when the door is quietly opened. Within seconds I feel Dad's hands around me, supporting me back to my bed. "You shouldn't have been out of bed, darling." He soothes me. As he and Dr. O'Brien put me back into the bed I can hear Mum whispering to Dad: "Do you think she overheard us?" I can see on their faces that they think I did. I only wanted to know who was up at this late hour, and now I have made them sad. Everytime I had seen Mum in the last two weeks she was always happy, yet now she doesn't smile. Why do I always make all these stupid mistakes? Dr. O'Brien talks to me. I try blocking out his voice, but can not. "You should soon get better." He tells me. I don't believe him. He had told me the same thing during the last two weeks and I had only gotten worse. I like him even less for that remark. "Doctor, could you please leave us?" Dad asks him. He always knows what I want. I like Dad. And Mum also. "How are you feeling?" She asks me once Dr. O'Brien has left the room. I make a complicated face, which between us has come to mean that I don't feel too well, but am happy that they are visiting me. "How is Sam?" I ask. Sam is my pet gerbil. I love him nearly as much as I love Mum and Dad. It's really stupid that I can't have him with me here in the hospital as I'm sure, if he were here I would get better much sooner. "Sam is..." Mum starts saying, but her voice trails off. "Damn it George, I simply can't lie to her. She has the right to know the truth." She says turning to Dad. It is the first time I hear her swear in front of me. Dad takes my hand, and locks his eyes with mine. It is his method of giving me bad news. "We're sorry sweetie, but Sam...well...he has gone to Gerbil Heaven." I can feel my pulse mount, and the machine next to me starts giving off faster beeps. "Sam is dead?" I ask incredulously. I have just lost one of my best friends. Sam had been such a good listener. Why did he have to die? "Sweetie please calm down." Mum says, trying to calm me, but I can feel she is more nervous than me herself. What can she possibly be afraid of? "We're sorry but we could do nothing. Last morning when we wanted to feed him he didn't want any food, and shortly thereafter... We tried giving him some medicine when we saw what was happening, but it didn't work..." "I want to see him one last time!" I exclaim. "Honey, you know that you can't leave the hospital and the doctors don't want to let him in here." Dad says. The machine is slowly starting to calm down as I direct my anger towards the doctors in the hospital. It is all their fault. If I hadn't had to stay in the hospital, I could have been with Sam, and then all this wouldn't have happened. I know that I have to divert my thoughts. I can think about Sam once Mum and Dad are gone. I know that they have pretty busy lives and I don't want to keep them any longer than necessary. "So how what did you do today?" I ask, as has become customary for me to do in the last two weeks.

Woo! Congratulations! You deserved it!

Congratulations to all of you!

As soon as she saw the two figures notice her, she hastily ducked behind a tree. She pressed herself against the hard bark in an effort to become less visible, all the while listening to what was being said. Not surprisingly she didn't understand a single word of what the two, a man and a woman were talking. The language here was so different from the one spoken at home. She wondered, should it come to it, whether she would manage to be understood by them. She had a basic knowledge of the sign language associated to her own culture, but she wasn't sure whether it would work her. As their voices slowly drew closer, Ming's breathing got faster, and her fingers tensed in preparation for an eventual combat. She did not know who these people were, and despite her childhood memories of that strange bird, not being evil, sudden doubts assailed her. With fluid grace she moved out from behind the tree, her hand at her hips, ready to draw her dagger if the need came to it. Since she was unable to adress the two, she now had to wait for them to talk to her first.

Happy belated Birthday!

The sharp ears of a fox made out the sounds of her passage, and Ming heard the soft footfalls of the animal running away. It was nature's way. Neither of them had seen the other, yet they both knew that there was no need for them to meet. Smiling at the thought she waded through the forest, careful not to step on dry branches or leaves, painstakingly watching every step, so that her passage is not noticed. She does not know that Dana's magical capabilities have already detected her, but even if she did, she would not change her method of approach. This was a lesson, life had taught her well. Her ears constantly pick up the strange sounds of birds, she has never heard before. Every hour, every minute even, she is more and more fascinated by nature's ability to be so diversified. A small blackbird's flight crosses her path, the bird not even noticing her. Her steps were gradually taking her towards the spot above which she had spotted the mythical bird. As the ground sloped upwards, she reduced her speed, and brought out her bow, ever alert for any signs of danger. Although she was pretty sure that the bird was good, she had no idea who else would be in the clearing.

I posted the two interviews closely together, because both had been already written and the supposition when we co-wrote the interview with Gwaihir was that not too much happened between Gwaihir's interview and Dana's, because then several things might have needed to be changed in the post.

Fred watched Heather walking towards the other participants. He could not help but like the girl. Fred had never married, and had never felt in love. Until now. But he did not know that yet, all he could feel was a strange feeling inside, which he could not yet explain. He fought down this feeling as he walked towards Gwaihir. He approached the elf, and as he got near he extended his hand, as was the custom there where he came from. Dave the cameraman was already recording what was going to be the third interview to be shown at the start of the quiz show. Gwaihir looked confused. "I don't think I have any money on me. How much does it cost to be here? If it's cheap some friend of mine might loan it but I tend to forget to pay them back so maybe not too much.” It was hard for Fred not to grin. He had tried studying the cultures of the participants, but it seemed that he had missed an important point here. "Oh, no, no. I don't want any of your money dear friend. Shaking an others hand is a means of greeting each other in the society I come from, I did not realise that this was different there where you come from." "Oh!" Gwaihir cheerfully grabbed Fred's hand as it retreated and squeezed ...perhaps a bit to hard but he figured it was better to look excited than unfriendly. Fred grimaced as he felt the slightly wet hand nearly break his bones. Then as Gwaihir withdrew his hand, he could see that it wasn’t simple wetness, but paint on the elf’s hands. Along with some dirt. He restrained himself, and did not react to getting dirty. “Thanks for having come to the quiz show.” – He said. “At the start of the quiz show we are going to be showing a short introductory video of the participants, so that the public can get to know them a bit. For this I would like to ask you a few questions.” Then he remembered what had happened during the prior interview. “Oh and before you ask a video is an association between pictures and sound, which can be looked at several times.” "Well, I'm not really much to look at, but okay." Indeed Gwaihir was not just being modest. He was dressed as one might dress to do a hard day of messy outdoor labour and in fact multiple people had tried to throw him off the set at first. "Thank you. So tell me: what was it that brought you here to the quiz show?" “Honestly? I just made a wrong turn. Then someone invited me to stay.” That wasn’t the answer Fred had been expecting at all, but the public would like it. He continued. “I’m pretty sure that you are aware that there is a prize for the winner of the quiz show. What would you do with the prize, were you the winner?” Gwaihir scratched his head and produced a small dirt shower. "Good question. Well...Probably buy a bigger garden plot maybe some trees. I've always wanted to get to know some trees. Fred smiled. “Actually the prize is a book.” “Even better! Honestly I don't know what to do with money. I usually just let pen friends be my banker. “Books are fun, the perfect thing to do when you want to rest out in a garden” Fred wasn’t going to tell Gwaihir that the book wasn’t one you could just simply read, right now. There wasn’t enough time for that. If they wanted to get the show started on time, then the interviews also had to be finished on time. “Ok, one more question. Who do you think has the best chance of winning the quiz show? If you don’t know, then I’ll tell you that the confirmed participants so far are Dana, Wyvern, Venefyxatu and you, while we also have two people who have signed up, we just don’t know who they are, though they might arrive any minute.” “Well... I don't think it'll be Wyvern. He doesn't usually have any more luck than I do at these things. I'm going to bet on the unknowns because the less time one's spent at the pen the better for things like this--we're too weird we pollute people.” – Gwaihir replied. Fred nodded. “Thanks for the interview.” – he said. He walked away, letting Dave give the tape to the video manip people, while he went to wash his hands and to get the set, finally set up the way he wanted it to be. “Thank you.” Gwaihir smiled but he wished that Fred looked happier and hoped it wasn't his fault. Two minutes later the reason for Fred’s unhappiness became apparent as his shouts from the set drifted backstage. “I told you to set up that platform two meters further….I don’t care, just put it there, will you?”

Disclaimer: The interview with Dana (as well as the other interviews to follow) have been (or will be) co-written with the owner of the character.

"WHAT?? WHERE ARE ALL THE TREES FROM??" - Fred's voice could be heard from right next to Wyvern, who's ears received quite a vocal assault. The set technicians all stared at Fred, wondering themselves about the same question. Fred rushed to the set to survey the "damage", which had been done there. The same woman came rushing in to see whether anything had happened to Dana when the trees "attacked". She was relieved to find her safe and sound, and led her backstage. Heather motioned to Dave, one of the cameramen to come with her. She was going to do her first interview. She was slightly nervous, as she had never done this before, except in practice sessions with Fred. The sudden appearance of half a forest didn’t help either. She knew that in order for everything to be ready for the show, there was only very little room for mistake. She approached Dana, as she seemed at first glance to be quite sympathetic, and that was what Fred had told her to choose first. Someone who was going to be easy to interview. That probably meant leaving Wyvern to the end, as she had no idea how that interview would go. She made out Dana’s form among the unused lighting equipment and motioned for her to come over. “Hi I’m Heather. I’ll be the host for tonight’s show. I was wondering whether you would be available for a shortish interview before the show starts?” – she started when Dana came over. The camera behind her, in Dave’s expert hands was already running and was recording everything which was being said. Dana looked curiously at the camera device and wondered what the guy was doing with the box on his shoulder, and didn’t like it one bit that something was stuck under her nose, but she stayed calm and nodded. In fact the person under the box seemed quite cute, nothing like the men where she came from of course (he simply missed the roughness), but still very attractive. “Can he take his head out of that box as well?” Heather smiled. She had been told that some of the participants were not what she would expect. She knew a bit of their backgrounds, and knew that Dana was not from this world. “That box is a recording device, with it he can record what we are saying and then later we can have a look at it again.” – she explained, patiently. Dana shook her head, surprised that there were still people using devices for that, then again she also knew that not everybody in this world was able to use the mana, or even feel it for that matter. She nodded slowly. Personally she liked personal contact more, but if they thought that it was important to see her again and again through a box, who was she to stop them. Dana hadn’t had any objections so far, she had even nodded, which she could interpret as an approval, so Heather guessed that she could go forward with the interview. “Ok. Would you mind telling a bit about yourself, in generalities, so that the public shall be able to know a bit about you when they get here?” “Err…” The question was so open that she was lost with it. What would people want to know about her? Would they want to know about how she learned to summon things? Or would they possibly want to know about her home world? Dana hesitated and hoped that she looked confused enough for the girl to elaborate on her question a bit. “Let me explain a bit. What we are recording now shall make a short video, an association between pictures and sound, which shall be shown to the public just before you enter on stage. So basically to introduce yourself the best would be to say your name, maybe a few things about your past, if you feel comfortable speaking about that, what you do now and that sort of stuff.” – Heather just hoped, that it was clear enough. If not, she would just have to explain more, or ask precise questions, then let the video editing team do most of the work. “Right, well….my name is Dana, and I come from a different world. I got sucked into this one because…well, one moment I was there and the other I was here, they even thought I was Sweetcherrie for a bit. I….” She hesitated, should she tell them how little she still knew about this world? It might give other contestants a head start. Then again it might give them a false idea of security, after all she wasn’t stupid either. “I still have a lot to learn about your world, and hope that I will do well here, tonight.” “Is that the main reason why you chose to participate?” – Heather asked. After all, one of the items on her checklist to acquire for the presentation of the participants was the reason why they were here. Not that she had the checklist with her now, Fred had been sure to have her memorise all that was on it. “I simply thought it would be fun, and to be honest that price didn’t sound bad either.” Heather once again ran over what Dana needed to say for the video, and then remembered the last thing. “One more thing, before I let you chat with the others: ” – she said with a smile. “If you were to win, what would you do with the prize?” Dana blushed here. "I was thinking of using it to improve a bit on some of my spells, I'm a bit clumsy at times...." Heather nodded. Magic was still quite a new concept for her, as she had lived a totally normal life, until up to three days ago. That day all she had learned had shocked her. She found out about magic, different worlds, wonderful creatures. She had realized then, how much of the world she had missed while being a simple art student. “Thanks.” – she said to Dana, then turned to see Fred coming back from the set. As they had agreed previously, he was going to do the next interview, while Heather talked with the participants, making them feel at ease. Fred was frantic. He knew that he couldn't simply get rid of all of the trees before the show started. He would just have to work with it. He had had to offer the construction crew a bonus for them to rearrange the lighting and the stage on time, but they had agreed to do it. He could hear them working behind him. Fred saw that Heather had finished interviewing Dana, and knew that the interview he had to do was next. He snaked his way through the trees backstage and went to his dressing room, to dress.

Nine feet from the small stream and another twenty five from the deer. Adding to that the about one foot difference in height, she had a pretty easy shot. Gently she placed the arrow on the bowstring, careful not to make the slightest sound. The deer was grazing peacefully in the small clearing, unaware of the mortal danger it faced. For Ming, this was the first time in three days, that she had found some food. Hunting in these parts wasn't easy, and the game scarce. It had been seven years since she had run away from home, then an eleven year old child. Ever since she had wandered the world, fleeing the dark secret in her past. She had stepped off the ship two weeks ago in this strange land. She hoped that her secret was unknown here, and that she hadn't been followed. Silently she watched the leaves on the tree behind which she was hiding, calculating wind speed, making small adjustments to her shot. The bowstring made only a small twang as the arrow was released. Her eyes did not leave the suddenly alert target as she reached to the ground and placed a second arrow on the bow, in case the first one missed. There was no need. The first arrow had found its mark, burying itself deep in the deer's neck. The deer took a staggering step, then fell to the ground. When Ming got there, it was still breathing, albeit in gasps. With her knife, she put the beast out of its misery, then set to the task of skinning it. Two hours later she had a small fire going and one of the deer's legs roasting on it. Most of the rest of the edible meat had been stowed away in her pack, along with some of the precious salt she was carrying. It had been a sailor four years ago, who had taught her this method of preserving meat. Finally she was able to satisfy her hunger. While she ate, she tended to the fire, so that it gave off only a very small amount of smoke. She had learned to be the least detectable in the times, when most of the company she received had come to kill her. Many had paid with their lives when they had tried to kill her, falling either to her precise bowshots, or her knife. She hoped that here, her weapons would need be used for peaceful means only. When she finished her meal, she put out the fire and placed some rocks and dirt on the fireplace. She knew that to the trained eye it would be visible that there had been a fire here, but she made a decent attempt at hiding her traces. She placed her pack and bow on her back, and was just about to reenter the cover of the trees, when towards the North, in the distance, she spotted a strange bird. She was completely unfamiliar with the fauna and flora of these parts, yet the shape and colour of the bird were not unknown to her. She squinted her eyes and could just make out a strange phenomenon around the bird. It seemed to be flaming. She remembered what this bird was from the bedtime stories her mother had told her while she was still young. Yet she had never believed that they existed, but now here was proof. She moved under the canopy of the trees, in case the bird spotted her, while she tried remembering every detail she had heard about its kind. She was relieved when she remembered that the birds were good. She set off at a rapid, yet silent pace towards where she had seen the bird. She was determined to find out whether the bird had a human along with it. She needed to find out at least a bit about this strange land. The sailors on the ship, which had brought her here, were of her own land, and did not know about this one.

Patham rushed through the corridors of the Pen, but suddenly tripped on something, which on later inspection turned out to be a pen. A bright pink coloured pen. He picked it up, intending to hand it back to its owner whenever he found who that was and hurried onwards toward the celebrations. He was already late, although this still fitted into the fashionably late category. As he reached the Cabaret Room he noticed the celebrations already happening. "Have I missed anything?" - he asked, while he tried putting the pen down next to the other similar ones. Of course having spoken just before it, he was noticed. "I found this in one of the corridors, I hope it wasn't missed..." He then saw the writings on the wall, and picking back up the pink pen added. Happy Birthday!! OOC: Happy Birthday Appy! Hope it was/is great!

The picture used in Christopher's article comes from ...doesn't come anymore. After some deliberation in IRC, and Wyvern's advice the picture was removed and substituted by a description.

Once Sweetcherrie left, Christopher returned to the half-written article. Finding out the manager's name hadn't been that hard. All it had taken was a couple of internet searches and a phone call placed to one of Christopher's contacts in the music industry. Christopher looked at the nearly finished work, then went back and made a few changes, rearranging paragraph order, and adding a comment or two extra and correcting the typing mistakes he had made in the first paragraph and the transcription of the contract. He then changed the title and added formatting to the article. If only the pictures he had taken hadn't turned out that bad. On one of them Marissa had her eyes closed, and the other showed her mouth in a position, which would have made a porn actress proud. Luckily he had found a picture of her on the internet, the picture taken from the promotional posters for her first single. It would do just fine for the article. That looked better. Although he was sure he could still make a few modifications, he knew that it wasn’t worth the extra effort, and besides the meeting was close at hand. He stubbed out his latest cigarette and clicked the print command, knowing that Sweetcherrie preferred to read in a printed form. Next to the article he joined the picture of Marissa he had found. Her blond hair was highlighted against a setting sun, in a picture, which must have taken at least fifteen tries to get right. He lit another cigarette, then remembering how the others did not like him smoking pushed it gently against the ashtray so that he could smoke it later, and then made his way to the meeting room, with the printed article, and for once without a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Working alone was so much easier. No one complained about the smoke then…

Count me in. I'm not sure whether I'll have time to write a longish story, it shall all depend on my university workload, but I'll try.

The talisman was quite strange, and Patham thought it best to practice waving it before he really had to do so. Not surprisingly nothing out of the ordinary happened. Feeling stupid Patham lowered his hand, and awaited the arrival of Vlad and Archaneus. OOC: Happy Birthday both of you!

Heather nearly laughed out loud. When Fred had told her about Wyvern he had not exaggerated, as she had first thought. “Ah Wyvern.” she said, while gathering her thoughts, slightly put off balance by the reptilian elder’s arrival. “Interior locker janitor.” she chuckled. It seemed that she had already had an effect on the almost dragon before they even met. “That is a poster of me, you meant to say?” she announced, this more than she asked. “I’m not quite happy with that picture, as my hair wasn’t quite right on it. If you want I can give you a better one, just remind me after the show.” She smiled a knowing smile. “About you being the future winner, well I am sure that you shall try your best, as will all of the other participants and in the end the best one shall win.” She went through her hair with a hand, putting a rogue lock of hair back in place. “About the autograph, did you mean wanting to pay me?” She could not withhold her chuckle, and Fred came over to see what was happening. When he saw Wyvern and the poster he guessed most of what had come to pass in the last few minutes. “Ah, Mr. Wyvern. Glad you could come. I am Fred Jickson, the organizer. Do you have any questions?” – he asked.

"I've got to rush to get changed." - Heather announced, two hours before the show was about to start. Fred nodded and then motioned for one of the cameras to be slightly moved. The big day had arrived, and there were still a lot of things to do. The participants, not as many as he had expected, were going to arrive soon. While on stage only half a dozen people moved around, making minor adjustments to equipment, backstage everything was chaotic. Unused props lay in disarray around them. He would have to tell the participants not to worry about it. All that matter was what went on TV, and backstage didn't except for a small part where the pre-quiz interviews were going to be held. That corner was immaculately clean, in stark contrast with the area around it. Heather made her way to the dressing rooms. The makeup artist arrived just then, and after she put on her evening gown, of a deep green colour, she sat down to have her makeup adjusted. Although she didn't quite agree with everything the makeup artist did, she did not complain. She wasn't a makeup professional and therefore, she supposed, did not know that well. Fifteen minutes later, after even her hair was brought into shape she walked back towards the backstage area, where the first of the participants was just arriving.

I shall soon be starting the free roleplay part of the QQ, and at the same time shall start contacting people to know when they are able to co-write for stage 1. There might be one more person to sign up, time permitting.

Glad to hear from you Salinye! Here's to hoping real life shall let you come back here sooner or later.

After his encounter with his uncle's virtual ghost, Patham decided to have another look at the lands around him in hopes of finding his lost companions, or just anyone. He was starting to feel very lonely in this strange place. He changed to his owl form in a flurry of feathers and took once again to the skies. He flew in ever growing circles, all senses alert, looking for any signs of life. He never expected what hit him. At first it felt hot, then he saw the flaming eyes and fiery breath. Terror swept over him as he crashed into the unknown creature. He was surprised that he did not get burnt to a crisp right away. What he could see was at least ten feet tall and covered in shinys.

Happy Birthday!

1. Adjective - mighty 2. Male Member of the Pen - Wyvern 3. Female Member of the Pen - Mynx 4. Adverb - angel-like 5. A Gesture - pointing 6. A Fancy Location - a sailing boat in the Caribbeans 7. Adjective - grand 8. Noun - wireless network card 9. A Liquid - C2H5OH (also known as ethanol) 10. Verb - to procrastinate 11. Noun - feather 12. Adjective - polished 13. Adjective - mixed 14. Name of a Music Song and Artist - Obsession - Aventura 15. A Color - sea-blue 16. Part of Body (Plural) - lungs 17. Plural Noun - beasts 18. Article of Clothing - belt 19. Adjective - hung 20. Verb (past tense) - died

I had one week without internet, and while listening to one song I had an idea. What if I took a line from that song and then wrote a short story around it (I limited myself to around 500 words, but they can be longer)? So I did, and then did it with another song. I propose that whoever wants to take part feels free to do so. First one: “My own land has closed its gates on me.” – Song: Sonata Arctica – My Land “For nineteen years I serve my country, and what do I get?” – Ivan Ivanovich Kalikov left the question hanging in the air as he took a cigarette from his case and lit it. “You would think that I get a decent home, state-pension, and can live out my days happily with my wife and three children, but no. It simply doesn’t happen.” “It is often like that in the KGB, Ivan. You knew when you enlisted.” “What did I ever do against the chairman?” – It was a rhetorical question, and he knew it. The chairman needed to simply speak a wish, and it was done. That was the way in the Soviet Union. “Apparently, you knew too much, Ivan. I’m sorry.” Being friends with the man, soon to be executed, made it only harder for Sergey. In order to save his own skin, he had to do it, and Ivan knew this. If Sergey did not sign the order to execute his own friend, then both of them would get killed. “I’m sorry Ivan. I know that we have been friends for the last seventeen years, and have been through much together, but the chairman wrote himself the letter.” Ivan nodded. It made it even harder for Sergey. His friend knew that he was going to be killed and did not even blame him for it. It only took three seconds, but it seemed much longer for Sergey, when he signed the order. Two officers took Ivan by the arms and led him from the office down to the basement. They made him stand next to a wall, where he himself had supervised several executions. He had never thought that he would end in the same way. They tied his hands behind his back and lined up the execution squad with their Kalashnikovs. This was it. The end. Then Sergey arrived in the basement. Everything happened fast. He ordered the squad leader to untie Ivan, but he, having his own orders, resisted. He received a bullet in the head, from Sergey’s service revolver. The rest of the execution squad stood down. Two of them, faithful men of Sergey knew what they had to do. They disarmed their comrades, and handed their weapons to Ivan and Sergey. “What are you doing? They’ll kill both of us now.” “Friendship means much more to me, to throw it away so simply. If we’re lucky we might make it to the border before news of our exploit gets out. Vasiliy and his brother shall look after these guys here, while we make our escape.” “But what about my family?” – Ivan asked. As far as he knew they were still in their Saint Petersburg home, waiting for him to return for dinner. “They’re already dead. I could do nothing to prevent it. Come, we must hurry.” They reached the border four hours later, but never made it to Finland. News of their escape had reached the border posts and their own country had closed its gates on them. They died bravely and needlessly. Second one: “When I close my eyes forever” – Song: Kamelot – Forever “Can I help you sir?” – I asked him. He simply walked past the counter without speaking a single word. His dark glasses hid his expression as he walked towards the back of the shop. Since he was the only customer I walked after him. He wore a brown, leather coat, which was buttoned right up to the top and a matching color felt hat. As he passed by the bottles of whiskey, he stretched out his hand and grabbed a bottle by the neck. His movements seemed to be strange, as did his whole behavior. “What is this?” – He asked me. I couldn’t quite see what he had in his hands, so replied simply: “It is written on the bottle sir.” What happened next was completely unexpected. The bottle slipped from his hands and shattered on the tiled floor of my shop. The smell of whiskey permeated the air as a heavy silence settled between us. I put a hand on his shoulder and he whirled suddenly around. I stepped back, not sure what to do. If only my father had been here, he would have immediately known what to do. I was pretty sure that my father would have thrown the man out of the shop, but he was now asleep, and I was the one standing there, breathing in the vapors thick with whiskey. “Sir, you shall have to pay that.” – I said, in a shaky voice. “I still don’t know what I have to pay.” – He replied, and took off his hat, scratching his balding head. I was starting to get annoyed. Was this man blind, or what? I could by now clearly see that the bottle, which had broken on the floor, was a bottle of single malt Scottish whiskey, well over ten dollars a bottle. “What are you, blind?” – I asked, letting a hint of annoyance seep into my voice. He did not reply, staring at me from behind his dark glasses, as he put the hat back onto his head. I glanced at the price tag for the whiskey, but could not see it, so I reached for it to turn it towards me, to see it better. My hand never made it, as with a sudden movement he grabbed my wrist. I tried to break free, but his grip was too strong. “Let me ask you one thing. When did you last do a good deed? For God’s sake, why can’t you help out a blind man, when he asks you what he has in his hands? Even if I could see as you can, it would have been much easier for you to tell me what I had in my hands, than telling me that it was written on the bottle.” This was crazy. How could he have grabbed the bottle, then my wrist, if he was blind? “Here take this wad of notes. I know it is much more than the price of the bottle I have broken, but I am giving it to you, in order to teach you a lesson. Try to be kinder once in a while, and people shall be kinder in return.” I took the money from him. I had no choice; he was still clinging to my wrist. He let go, and started slowly walking out of the shop. As he left, I started thinking about what he had just said.

Updated list: Sweetcherrie - Dana - Dreaming - Stages 1, 2, 3 Appy - Eda - Current Age - Stages 1, 2, 3 Katzaniel - Jhenrau Tyier - Computers/Technology - At least Stage 2 Venefyxatu - The Madame - Horoscopes - Stages 1, 2, 3 Gwaihir - Gwaihir - Plants - Stages 1 and 2 Wyvern - Wyvern - Famous Pennites - Stages 1, 2, 3