Sweet Dreams

[Lasair Anubail]

((Closed))


“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Lasair looked at the man in front of her wide-eyed and completely enamoured with what he was telling her. His words were sometimes a little slurred and the drink before him probably wasn’t helping that very much, but that didn’t matter to her. He could still talk coherently and what he was telling her was quite fascinating.

“They’re huge! And their leader is a brute of a man tha’ constantly carries ‘rund this massive sword biggar than most people.” He snorted, the sound not very appealing to her. “Easily bigger than you, I’d wager. They say he also has sume kind o’ bodyguard with ‘im, a man trained in hand-to-hand combat. The bodyguard knows how ta kill a man with one simple move, too. Aye, I whud’na want ta meet either of thum.”

Grabbing the mug of his drink with a hand so large the tarnished silver nearly disappeared to her sight, the large almost brutish looking human took another mouthful of his mead. Some escaped the sides of his lips and trickled down into the depths of his dark red beard, disappearing from her sight. Absently she wondered if the facial hair annoyed him. Draconians and Fae usually didn’t grow facial hair like that. They had eyebrows like everyone else, but for the most part the majority of them couldn’t even grow facial hair and the ones that did usually didn’t. Beards seemed kind of messy to her too. It was like having a head of hair on your chin. It had to get annoying.

“What was the name of them, again?”

The human stopped draining his mug long enough to take another look at her, burp rather rudely and then answer.

“They’re called Imperial. Not a vera flashy name or nuthin’ like tha’, but I’ve ‘eard they’re quickly risin’ in ranks and people seem ta be takin’ an intrest. If ya know whut I mean.”

She did, or she thought she knew what he meant. They sounded quite interesting to her as it was. A Clan, as they called them around here, a group of people that sought to create their own path in life and do what they could to help others. Apparently Imperial was some kind of policing…thing. Lasair wasn’t entirely sure what policing meant but it sounded like they were some renegade guard of a kind that operated by their own rules.

“Thanks, mister!” Lasair said with a cheerful smile as she hoped down from the bar stool she was sitting on. She’d been talking with him for a while now and well, she was growing rather tired. Perhaps it was time to call it a night.

In the time she had come into the tavern and until now the place had filled up quite a bit. It had been quiet and perhaps a little peaceful, but now it was filled with activity. Women hurried from table to table with trays in their hands as they passed out ordered drinks to both men and women laughing and carrying on. Candlelight lit the room in a gentle glow and a large fireplace on the far left wall kept it cozy warm and the cool night air away. Initially she’d only come down from her room to grab a little something to fill her tummy and perhaps have a few drinks. She wasn’t really much of a drinker but that’s because alcohol had a tendency to really muddle her head, even after only two or so drinks. The man she’d been talking to had easily drank three in the short amount of time he’d captured her interest. Then again, he was much bigger than her, maybe that had something to do with it.

No one paid her much of any mind as she left the tavern. Perhaps a few eyes wandered to her, but only because she wasn’t exactly of the norm. At a first glance she appeared nothing more than human, but the shimmering wings laying flat against her back, the colour of her eyes and perhaps that slight point to her ears gave way to the fact that she was something more. They seemed not to care though as no one did or said anything to her. So Lasair hurried up a set of stairs in the back area. Up three flights she went to the top floor where her room was located.

Slipping her key into the lock on door number five down the line, the tiny Fae turned the handle and stepped into a room so black she nearly tripped over her own feet.

“Ohh… matches, matches…”

Stumbling around in the darkness and smacking her leg into what she assumed to be a table and her arm into the post of the bed. Lasair eventually found the nightstand beside her bed and the pack of matches that lay upon it. Striking one, the room was immediately flooded with a warm glow that chased away the darkness closest to her. Finding the oil lamp and placing the wooden stick upon the wick, Lasair smiled as it caught and even more light flooded in. Pleased with her accomplishment, she looked around at her room. Everything was where she left it. Her Never-Ending rucksack was upon the foot of her bed, a small but comfortable looking bed piled high with blankets. The table she’d hit her leg on was at a slightly odd angle in the middle of the room before the fireplace now, but she didn’t care. There was also a chair and a desk off to the side of the room before a small window she was sure would let the sun in to wake her up. It wasn’t home, but it would suffice for a few nights.

Slipping out of her dress and feeling the slightly chilled air touch her bare skin, Lasair shivered and crawled under the soft, warm blankets. Curling up into a small ball, she left the lamp on, preferring not to sleep in complete darkness and waited for her dreams to take her. Maybe she’d have another crazy dream about discovering treasure in an underwater temple filled with giant sea monsters. That was always fun.

[Twisted Infinitum]

La coo cah rah CHA! La coo cah rah CHA! Nanana nananana! sang the cat-like godling as she danced about her native realm. Her long white hair and tail wafted about her, spreading so wide that they almost added a hint of modesty to her tank top and short shorts that barely covered her brown-furred body. The fishnet shawl she wore over top certainly wasn't helping as it swang up with each spin. Nor did she try, for the hair and clothing's inertia was born soley from her mind. Physics had no sway here, nor any material to work with. From her dancing form to the spherical horizon of melted rainbows, there was nothing but the clear void of thought.

Well, there was her dancing partner, but he certainly wasn't any more solid than her, and his skill as a dancer was horrid. It was probably because he was only half a human body, split down the middle, and made of nauseatingly clear goo that only served to hold the cloudy, useless organs in place. Add to that the fact that he was tied around a large red bubble like a festive bow, and his dance moves were limited to random slackening of his half-jaw.

She tried anyway, bless her heart. Dance like this, Edgar, and you'll make Kahlie-poo the happiest wife ever! The story underlying that statement was one full of misunderstandings and the dominating will of this self-proclaimed mother-in-law. But, when you're Onyx Calico, misunderstandings are the name of the game.

Edgar didn't seem to take the motivation into his dance lessons, but the name did cause his bulbous, orange eye to quiver and his jaw to waggle mightily. The bubble he encapsulated, containing a view of large, burly men at small rustic tables, vibrated from the motion.

Suddenly, Calico's body and hair halted as if flash frozen. One finger, thrust joyously into the air, waggled as if encountering resistance, and the black gemstone in the goddess' forehead sparkled with delight. She kept her finger pointed toward what she had found as she straightened her body and looked up. Somewhere beyond the multi-colored horizon and deep within the starlit expanse of sleeping minds, she had noticed a wonderful thing. Someone, and a rediculously cute breed of someone, at that.

Shaking with eagerness, Calico clawed another red bubble into existence and stared into the lurching surface of it. Images played at lightning speed, all the trappings of a pleasant fae upbringing with a heavy focus on business. Specifically, a charming little synthesis shop. Aww, she's an euntraprenre...rer thingy. She's a business lady with cute little wings. She hugged herself and flapped her hands behind her back. And pretty red and gold hair! She petted her own hair lovingly. Then, her eyes widened larger than Edgar's eerily glowing one. She's got a...

It's said that, to this day, the Dream World hasn't felt an emotional force to compare with what happened then. TWIIIIN! The very horizon wavered as if frightened. The energies of thought may have lacked sentience, but even they were afraid of a dream demon with such cute, insideous giggles.

Just as quickly as it had begun, the smitten tantrum ceased. Calico looked into the bubble with an expression best defined as 'confuzzlement'. She talked to an old drinky-drinky guy today. Ewww... But, he said something about... Im-per-ial. She sounded it out carefully, then turned to Edgar with a big grin. Police-y, protect the innocent types. We should join them, sweety. Edgar stared at her, which could potentially have been agreement.

Without another thought, Calico wove a dream and placed it in the little fae's mind. She didn't reveal herself, exactly, but she was a comforting presence behind the chair that the fae sat it. With gentle strokes, she brushed out the long, pretty hair and said things that would probably only be remembered as motherly sentiments. Then, seamlessly, she brought up the important topic. "I heard about that darling Imperial clan you were interested in," said her dream self in a voice that filled the dimly lit bedroom with warmth, "It would be so nice if you and my son could go join it together." The voice almost cracked with the cuteness overload of the puppet master, but she held it together.

Edgar, dear, where are you staying? Calico quickly said, her eyes momentarily leaving the bubble-bound illusion.

The view in Edgar's bubble twisted from a curse-filled argument over who slayed the bigger dragon to an open window. A moonlit country path was visible, as well as the tavern's sign hanging from a post. The Galloping Wench, it said, complete with an expressive picture for the illiterate, who were often disappointed, upon entering, to see barmaids that weren't curvateous, bouncy, or all too friendly, as the illustration suggested.

Without so much as an offended crinkle of the nose, Calico placed an image of the rude sign into the dream and tied it off. The bubble popped out of existence. Okay, now stay there and wait for the pretty fae, Edgar, she commanded sweetly. The view in his bubble turned back to the argument, which now involved broken bottles and a splatter of blood across the table. Sadly, the thought didn't strike him that staying could be dangerous. Mommy knew best, after all.

[Lasair Anubail]

Awareness slowly filtered through the mess of her dreams, where Lasair had been Kosack, warrior woman. Who was a fierce and respected Queen of the Jungle that did as she pleased and never let anyone tell her otherwise. It was a cool dream, not that Lasair believed in violence and would ever become a warrior. Fighting just never seemed to solve anything. People only got hurt and dead when they fought. And the last thing she wanted to do was kill someone. There had been another dream before that one though…but what had it been about? She got the distinct feeling it was important for some reason though she had no idea why. Oh, maybe it was a premonition! If that was the case then she really needed to remember it.

Opening her eyes to the bright sunlight, the small Fae stretched out on the bed that seemed so large in proportion to her, it nearly swallowed her in blankets and fluffiness. Her room seemed more cheerful and inviting in the light of the day instead of the dark of night. It was brighter and warmer when the sunlight caressed the worn wooden floors. Keeping her head on the pillow and deciding not to move yet, Lasair once again tried to recall that dream. It had been rather comforting and warm, unlike Kosack, warrior Queen. Then she remembered. She’d dreamt about that Imperial thingy, or at least it had been mentioned in it. Some woman wanted her to join with her son and he was waiting for her at The Galloping Wench!

Throwing the covers off herself, Lasair jumped to her feet and was nearly out the door when she realized she had no clothes on. Giggling to herself, she collected the dress she had discarded the night before and threw it into her rucksack before searching for something clean to wear. Eventually she pulled out a pure white gown with long, translucent sleeves, a tight fitting body with a low cut top and an extremely low back for her wings. The skirt was layered, cut off at the knees and slightly puffy, but not too much and it was shimmery. She liked things that shimmered. In this outfit her wings didn’t look so much as a part of her body, but part of the dress. So instead of leaving them folded tightly against her back, she stretched them out to their full length, instantly feeling sore muscles stretch and pull.

To top the whole thing off, she pulled out a pair of white leather boots with black string that came up to her knees. Normally, Lasair didn’t wear shoes; she preferred to walk around barefooted. But Josh had taught her how to walk in them, so she decided it was time to take advantage of that. Throwing the straps of her Never-Ending rucksack over her shoulders, the tiny Fae practically skipped out of her room. Today was going to be so much fun, she could already tell.

It took her a little while to find The Galloping Wench, after all, Lasair wasn’t very familiar with Radasanth yet and one of the humans she’d asked had tried to cart her off in a completely different direction. It was rather rude of him and she told him she had no idea what a brothel was. But no worries, sometime around noon the Fae found herself outside the establishment. It didn’t look very nice despite the fact that it was in a rather beautiful part of the countryside not too far from the city. The windows were quite grimy, making it nearly impossible to look inside. There were bits and pieces of wood scattered around an unkempt front garden that was overgrowing with what were probably wild vines and bushes. Not to mention the bodies of two obviously still drunk men were slumped over near the front door. The dream told her to go here though and she was going to follow her premonition.

Taking a deep breath, she balled her hands into fists as if ready to battle the world. “All right, I’m going in!”

Stepping around the legs of the human, the Fae grabbed the rusty and cold metallic handle and pulled on it. But the door didn’t budge. Confused, she yanked on the door harder trying to get it open, yet still it wouldn’t move. When one of the drunken bodies touched her leg though, Lasair squeaked and pushed against the door, practically stumbling into the place as the door swung open.

“Whoopsies…”

Recovering her balance, she looked around, wrinkling her nose at the smells that assaulted it. Stale beer, body odour and other things she didn’t quite know and was sure she didn’t want to. It was yucky, but she would prevail! There was someone here she needed to find after all. Looking around at the disorganized tables and chairs, chipped, stained and wobbly, Lasair noticed there weren’t too many people in the tavern right now. A small crowd eating lunch and talking amongst themselves, but she did notice a burly looking man with a long scar on his face staring at her. He had the look of a warrior about him, right down to the sword strapped around his hip and the leather armour covering his chest and shins.

Smiling, she walked over to his table. “Hi! Are you the person I’m supposed to meet?”

He grunted, “Doubtful, who’re you meeting?”

“A man!” She said rather cheerful, but then the smile fell from her face a bit. “But I don’t know what he looks like and he’s supposed to be waiting for me here. We’re going to Imperial together.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I’m your man.” He smirked at her, taking a drink from his mug.

The wings on her back perked, shimmering as they moved faster than the human eye could follow. “Oh, really!” She practically jumped with excitement. “When do you want to leave?”

His eyes snaked along her body rather hungrily. “How about right now.”

“Okay!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up, giving him another one of her huge and innocent smiles as she lead the way to the front door. Who would have thought it would be that easy?

[Twisted Infinitum]

Despite the inn's nightly ritual of drunken scuffling over bloody glass shards, Edgar was fine. If the fight between the two supposed dragon slayers had spread, even to the point where armored bodies and ale mugs attained equal airtime, he probably wouldn't have been scratched. Bar patrons, drunk or not, tended to avoid someone with his impressive list of social faux pas.

Firstly, he was cloaked entirely in black, but not the elegant, warlock-like black. From hem to hood, his shroud was spotted with dried mud and water stains. Definitely, his aura was less "dangerous" and more... "topsoil". It struck the regulars as strange, considering there hadn't been a good rain in weeks, but no more strange than the fact that night after night, for the last three days, he had been sitting there by the door. On day two, a mug of ale had been placed on the table a respectful distance from him, on the house and clearly intended as a polite, "be on your way now." Filled to the brim at first, it was now trickling over from the number of flies surfing in it.

Skip down the faux pas list a bit, past the smell of old mildew and the disturbing clicks when he turned his head, and at the very bottom is the kicker. It was already a whispered tale of horror among the kitchen staff, born when the woman who had brought him his ale looked into that dark hood and saw a single, huge glowing orange eye like a keeper's torch in the graveyard gloom. She had hightailed it all the way to the storeroom, not paying any mind to the grating croak of, "Thank wench" that emanated from the hood.

Now, day three, and the mood behind the bar had become more industrious. Snippets of conversation floated about the quiet room, the main topic being whether to call an exorcist or a demon slayer, one with a better resume than the bar's usual clientele. The discussion quieted down when the door opened and the staff dispersed to see to their new customer, only to be shocked silent when they realized that she was far from the usual. The closest barmaid, a brown-haired lass with a few bruises, froze with her mouth open and the usual, "What'cha want?" running back down her throat like bile. An appropriate statement would have been along the lines of, "Get out of here if you know what's good for you, unless you're looking for your daddy." But, the idea of any of the current patrons having children who would want to find them was so unbelievable that she couldn't voice such a thing.

Inside Edgar's head, his master had a very different reaction. Aaaayeeee! That's her! Wave her over and buy her an apple juice. Edgar raised his right hand, and immediately smashed it into the underside of the table with a startling wood-on-wood sound. His ale tipped over a second later and spread the flies' pool party all across the pitted, dagger-marked surface.

The brunette, still choking on her words, instinctively moved to clean up the mess. But, naturally, she froze when she realized whose table it was, and that just so happened to place her directly between Edgar and the fae before the fae's eyes wandered over to his location.

Calico didn't mind, though. She had seen enough to make a picture in her head, and she ogled that mental picture like a young squire with his first issue of PlayWench. Did you see?! she squealed in her puppet's head, She's dressed like such a little princess, a pretty sparkly princess! Oh, and she's showing off her wings. Got it, flaunt it, girlfriend! She's so beautiful!

Edgar, his single eye locked on the face of the barmaid, mimicked what seemed like the most important words. "Flaunt it, beautiful," he said dryly, as dry and crackling as a bonfire, in fact.

The poor woman's face went whiter than bones in a snowdrift, and her eyes grew to nearly the size of Edgar's. Then, with adrenaline-fueled horror filling her to the gills, she charged back toward the bar and vaulted over it. The bartender caught her with his face, sending them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs and breaking bottles.

With Edgar's vision suddenly unobstructed, Calico could gaze upon her precious find once more. Except... her find had found someone else. He was a burly giant of a man. His sword and stance said he could do horrible things to the frail girl, and his eyes spoke of acts even worse. She's being kidnapped! the dream demon screamed, though the fae girl was clearly leading. Stop the big, smelly what's-his-name before he takes another lovely fae for his collection!

In a flash, a creaking, jittery, staggering flash, Edgar stood, overturned his table, and bolted to block the open door. His left hand shot out, popping from his sleeve and revealing itself as a semi-transparent collection of goo-wrapped bones and veins with fingers spread. "Stop," he commanded blankly as the orange light of his eye swam within his hood. His master had said more, though it seemed lost in the enthusiasm of the moment. Thankfully, Edgar remembered something similar she had said during their dance lessons. "Stop, in the name of love," he said with a voice too creaky to be considered singing.

[Lasair Anubail]

Things appeared to be going great! The man had been remarkably easy to find considering all the faces in the tavern, and to think she’d only had to talk to one of them. But no mind, it was done and she was soon to be on her way! But first she had to avoid the running woman that nearly ran the tiny Fae over on her way to the bar. The female vaulted straight over the wooden contraption and landed on the man on the other side, breaking bottles and quite possibly body parts.

Wow, she must really like him.

Lasair wished that she’d be able to find someone she felt like that about one day. Where he made her want to jump over rather tall structures and potentially hurt herself in the process, just to be held in his arms. There had been this drummer in a particular band she’d been in that made her stomach do little flip flops whenever he smiled at her, and her body do all sorts of other naughty things when he kissed her. But she hadn’t seen Josh since the band had gone their own way. She kind of missed him, but in a world as big as Althanas there was such a small chance of them ever meeting again, and he was only human too. He’d die long before her, so it was best not to get involved in them. Still, he was a lot of fun.

Finding that her path to the door was now fully open, ready and waiting, the tiny Fae clutched at the human’s hand just a little tighter and made her way towards. Only to be stopped once more by something not so pretty looking. It was dark and hooded and had one giant orange glowy thing in its face. She wondered if it hurt. Then there was his hand. There was no skin on it, just some stuff that looked like something she sister once threw up when she was really sick. But why was he using her sister’s throw up as an arm?

The man she had been leading—funny she never asked his name—twisted his hand out of her fingers and stepped towards him.

“I don’t remember asking fer yer permission.” He growled.

Lasair could practically feel the hostility coming off him in waves, waves of hatred. She hated fighting. Even spending time with all the Draconians had not got her used to the whole thing and she found a bit of a nervous sweat collecting on her back. This could get bad rather easily.

She stepped back as his hand found the hilt of his sword and his fingers wrapped around the worn leather. The sound of metal ringing filled the air and she found the entire tavern filled with a nervous anxiety and every eye watching the scene that was unfolding. When he stepped towards the cloaked man in the flurry of pounding footsteps that echoed not only in the room but also in her head, Lasair found her entire body tensing. In a single move it ended. The cloaked man drew a dagger from seemingly nowhere and in a haphazard sort of way, thrust it into the man’s stomach. Rich, red blood flowed down from the wound as he let out a strangled and muffled cry of pain, one that tore at her heart and made a an unshed collection of tears gather in her eyes, making them shimmer and sparkle even more than the gold already provided for them.

As his body slipped to the floor, the man turned his attention to her. Feeling the blood drain from her face, Lasair did the only thing she knew how to do in these situations; she ran like hell. The good thing about being really small was that one was great at manoeuvring around people and that was exactly what she did. Her booted feet allowed her to slip right passed the cloaked human, or thingy and bolt for the doors, shakily opening it and running out into the bright light of the day. And she didn’t stop there. She kept running as fast as she could, not even realizing where she went as long as she got away. There was no way she was going to be the next thing impaled on that dagger!

[Twisted Infinitum]

Instinct, or the Edgar equivalent of such, led him to draw his dagger and point it at whatever was about to hit him. In the past, the tactic had failed against falling trees, rampaging bovines, and an ogre by the name of Grungleshnog. But, today, it worked. The brute's sword arm dipped down as his other hand gripped the buried dagger. His blood ran thickly over his fingers, slower and stickier than normal with the inclusion of the fluid that leaked from pores in the blade.

Before you break my heart! sang Edgar's master. Thankfully, the puppet was too entranced by the wound to make it a duet. Good job, baby, Calico squealed after the song was out of her system, I knew you'd grow up to be a hero.

She had a grand, heroic statement or three prepared for Edgar's official introduction to the fae, but something was wrong. With wide, fear-stricken eyes that stained her cuteness, the girl bolted from the sight of the collapsing man. Nooooo! the dream demon shrieked, prompting Edgar to mutter the same. Find her before she gets faenapped again! Oh, and get the poisony dagger.

Edgar bent with a sound reminiscent of creaking gears and pulled the dagger from the man's hand and gut. Unintelligible words floated up from him, probably amazement that he wasn't as dead as he expected to be. Limply holding the dagger in his right hand, a contraption of wood and springs entirely unlike his left, Edgar let the blood mix with the blade's clear fluid and drip off cleanly. It was both a coagulant and a numbing agent, so the man wouldn't die or feel much pain once it took hold. More importantly, though, it was a tranquilizer. The heavy droop of the warrior's eyelids wasn't the calm of death, but the deep embrace of slumber.

As Edgar pulled the dagger back into the folds of his cloak, his other eye, the one far far away from Althanas, saw his master work her magic. A signature red bubble had been pulled from the nothingness, and it flickered with images of battle and bravado. Edgar found himself wanting to watch, though the need was as fleeting as all the other thoughts he created himself, and the images didn't stay for long as Calico overrode them with a dream.

You are a bunny, she said to the bubble, which suddenly shone with sunlight and green grass. A hippity hoppity little bunny. You can't decide if you're hungry or want to bounce all up on some lady bunny in a hollow log. So, do both! You've got all the time in the- The dream suddenly turned to shades of red. Oh no! It's a wolf! And he's driving a four-by-four Trail Tromper. It's diesel, not very eco-friendly. There's a sunroof too, and his buddies are poking out the top with machine guns. Oh sweet woodland dystopia! Run, little bunny! The bullets are coming!

Her emphatic screams disappeared as suddenly as the bubble, and she looked back toward Edgar with her fur as fluffed as a defensive mother hen. That'll show him. Now, let's go find us a fae!

The cloaked thing fled the inn with lopsided strides, leaving the patrons to take stock of the aftermath. One table was upset and numerous bottles were ruined, so it was no worse than last night had been on account of the dragon slayers. But, the one oddity that had everyone staring, even the alcohol soaked barmaid and tender who peeked over the bar, was the wounded man. He was snoring loudly in the puddle of his own blood, which barely left him anymore, and kicking jerkily like a frightened animal. Again, the decision of what to do lent itself to calling an exorcist.

[Lasair Anubail]

She didn’t know how long she ran for, but after a while Lasair found her lungs burning and her legs aching and she slowly came to a stop. Taking a few moments, she rested against the side of a building as she attempted to fill her lungs faster than possible. She was back within the cobbled streets of the city, leaving behind the dirty road and the lush green fields that had surrounded the scary tavern and it’s scary inhabitants. Honestly, what was she supposed to do now? The dream had told her to go to the tavern, but it hadn’t said anything about a man being killed, nor had it mentioned some freaky shadowy person with a knife! Glancing behind her, she found no one. No dark, scary men with giant, glowing, orange orbs hidden in their hoods and no dying men laying in their own blood on the ground! Nope, just another sunny day in the capitol of Corone. Only it wasn’t very sunny for her, at least, not anymore!

It had started off fine, but quickly spun down into this debacle. What was she going to do? That man was probably dead and he was the only clue she had to lead her to Imperial, and on top of that, he’d been killed for seemingly no reason! Humans may live much shorter lives than Fae and Draconian, but that didn’t mean their lives were any less important.

Feeling agitated and scared and worried, the Fae pushed herself off the wall and began pacing back and forth, clearly unaware of the attention she was getting from nearby Coronian citizens. Apparently a pacing, and pale-faced Fae was not something they saw very often. She thought about going back to the tavern, but ruled that possibility out immediately. If anything could be done to help the human, she was quite sure that those in the tavern would do it, and if she went back there, she’d probably run into that thing again. No, going back was silly and foolish and she wouldn’t do it. Then what was she supposed to do?

Realizing she had a few perplexed looking females were standing there and staring at her as if she were some kind of lost animal, Lasair quickly went on her way. She had no destination in mind and found herself meandering through street after street and passed buildings she barely paid any attention to. After a few hours of walking, she found herself back outside the same Inn she had stayed at last night. The large stone structure was a familiar and relieving sight to her golden eyes. She still had a room here and some of her belongings were neatly tucked away inside of it. Here she would be safe.

Pulling the door open, she stepped into another bustling and busy atmosphere as the tavern on the main floor was already filled with quite a few humans drinking and eating. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t eaten anything all day, but the thought of food made her stomach do flip-flops and threaten to spill itself upon the floor. Perhaps she should just forgo food and get something to drink. She didn’t really feel like going up to her room to be by herself, but she definitely didn’t want to leave the inn. So she took a seat in the corner and curled her legs up onto the booth she sat in, resting her chin on her knees and watching as the humans talked, laughed and even yelled at each other.

[Twisted Infinitum]

It wasn't supposed to go like this, Calico whined as she hovered around the Edgar-wrapped bubble. His eye twitched about in an attempt to follow her, but only caught wisps of white hair as her frustration pulled her path tighter and faster about him. Why did she run away? You saved her from the faenapper! Rescuees aren't supposed to run away.

She was very close now, so close that Edgar's ethereal flesh was grazed by wild gestures that he couldn't see no matter how he oriented himself on the bubbly core. Then, she was right in his face. Edgar's jaw fell open in a wet, drooling gasp, and Calico stared as the spittle faded into nonexistence a hair-width from touching her nose.

Ooooooh, she said slowly as she leaned her head to the side like a curious bird. I forgot. You're ugly.

As offended as Edgar may have been, his only response was to stick out his half-tongue and slap it upon his bubble. The image of an empty, dirty, wooded path became distorted with ripples.

Oh, I didn't mean it like that, sweety, Calico cooed as she patted his cheek. There are lots of worlds where the ladies would line up for your nice, sloppy kisses. But Althanas is one of those spooty worlds where they like bodies to be... defined.... and solid, I guess.

I know! the dream demon suddenly shouted, causing Edgar's eye to bug out. Makeover!

Makeover thread is here (http://althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=100525). Please count it as part of this quest's narrative.

In the world called Althanas, dusk set in. Calico only knew because she could feel the new wave of minds slipping into her realm. They tasted funny, those sleepers from Althanas; meaty with pride, determination, and grand ideals, and all of it marinated in more magic than was good for them. It made them so much fun to play with, but bad to get attached to. For her, though, there were exceptions.

Paging Lasair, she announced to the spherical horizon, as fluid and unresponsive as ever. Like a master pianist, she worked her fingers about, pointing to and gauging the cuteness of each sleeping mind. It was long, boring work that she would have abandonned if not for the prize.

Then, she was there, that darling little fae. Calico positively squealed with delight as she summoned a bubble before her. There was something off, though. The image within flickered in and out of transparency, and the watery edges wavered as if it were a windy day. Awww, she's having a head-bobby cat nap, the demon sighed wistfully, too enchanted to worry about the trouble this would cause her.

Between the flickers, she began to dig. Time rewound through the streets of Radasanth and the blur of lingering fear. The images cut off then, and Calico vibrated as much as the bubble, waiting for half-sleep to take the girl again. She had already determined Lasair's location and instructed Edgar to go there, but there was something else that she needed to know.

When sleep did return, she wasted no time in going back along the forested path. The fear was getting stronger, hot and frantic even to the godling viewer. No one is allowed to scare my darling Lasair like that, Calico snarled as she contemplated sending the faenapper another dream, one where the wolves had laser rifles and the bunny had a limp.

Suddenly, the images halted like a train wreck. She had found the point where the fear was born, and it stunned her beyond words. The fae's mind faded out again, but Calico still stared into the bubble. It wasn't just cause you're ugly, she groaned to the Edgar bubble where grey city streets moved along underfoot. She thought that big smelly guy was you. She thinks you attacked you! I mean... you attacked Edgar. No, I mean... She clapped her hands to her head and shook it in confusion. She thinks something happened that didn't really happen, Calico finally decided, though it didn't make her feel any better. The images reappeared, faint and distorted, and Calico pushed her way into the dream with all her might.

It was the same room as before, the same gentle lighting, the same homey wooden walls, the same child-sized bed, and the same chair that Lasair sat in. Only now, Calico wasn't behind her, but rather in front. She sat on the bed crosslegged and very distinct in her true form. "I'm sorry it didn't go well earlier," she said hastily with her head bowed and her arms and tail wrapped about her. "I thought you would find Edgar right away, but you didn't. That scarface guy wasn't my little Edgar. This is him." She forced to the surface the image of the cloaked, dagger wielding man just as Lasair had seen him.

Either from shock or the natural to and fro of her broken sleep, Lasair's mind left the realm of dreams again. She would wake in an inn common room where Edgar was approaching. His cloak was different, now a lovely black sifan with ivy at the edges in orange thread, and his left hand that peeked from the sleeve was more solid, though still disturbingly transparent. Most of the patrons ignored him, but the fae would know who he was, for that blank glowing eye was pointed directly at her from the deep hood as his uneven steps brought him closer.

[Lasair Anubail]

That dream came again, the one she’d had the night before in the comfortable cozy little room with the voice that soothingly spoke behind her and told her what needed to be done. Only this time there was no one playing with her hair and gently cooing soothing words to her that she thought would lead her in the right direction. Only they hadn’t, they’d led her to a tavern where a man had died. There was a figure across from her sitting position this time, a beautiful looking lady with long, white hair and a tail that peeked out from around her and wrapped around her body.

Oh, she has a tail and cute little ears that kind of remind me of a coinin… I wonder if she’d let me touch them.

When the woman started talking to her, Lasair forgot all about her cute little ears and focused on her words instead. They were slightly confusing, apparently the man she’d run into had not been the person she was supposed to go to, her Edgar as she called him. She had been mistaken then, Edgar wasn’t dead! But that meant that some poor innocent human who had nothing to do with this was dead, which made her feel even worse. Of course there was still a chance the human wasn’t dead, someone in the tavern may have helped him and gotten him to a healer before that happened.

Suddenly, a picture entered her mind’s eye, slightly obscuring the room before her and leaving her focusing on the image of the cloaked and dagger wielding man that had wanted to attack her. And yet according to the woman that was Edgar, that was the man she was supposed to meet! No, no, no, it couldn’t be real. He was the man that had tried to attack her, he couldn’t be the man she was looking for, he just couldn’t be!

Shocked and confused, Lasair rejected the idea of it and pulled away from the dream. As the light haze cleared, she realized she’d fallen asleep in the tavern, even with all the noise going on around her. Her head was resting back against the slightly squishy lining of the booth and her legs were still curled up tightly around her body. No one was paying her any mind and the drink she had ordered who knows how long ago sat in front of her, untouched.

The lady in the dream couldn’t have been telling her the truth. Her Edgar couldn’t have been that big, scary man, he just couldn’t be. But according to her he was and she had met the wrong man. Maybe the dream was wrong though, maybe all of this was wrong and she shouldn’t have even trusted it in the first place. Just because she sometimes had prophetic dreams about the future didn’t mean this had been one like that, in fact it had been quite different than any of the dreams she’d had like that.

Ohhh, what was she going to do?

Sighing, the Fae looked up and into the people that occupied the tavern, her half massed eyes tired and showing the start of slightly dark circles under them, marring her flawless skin. They widened when they came to rest on a familiar figure making his way towards her. Her heart stopped within her chest and then began beating at three times the speed it had been before, threatening to break the bones that surrounded it. He looked a little different, but it was definitely the same person, this Edgar she was supposed to meet. But she couldn’t help but picture the scenes from the other tavern where he had pulled that dagger and then all the blood that had come from the other human.

No, no, no…!

“Please don’t hurt me!” Lasair suddenly yelled, not realizing she was speaking aloud.

From the brown leather rucksack beside her, the flap opened up and out popped two twelve-inch plushies. One wore only a pair of leather pants and a belt with two daggers around his waist, he also only had one wing that he somehow could fly with. The other had two very different, and dragon like wings and certain parts of his body were covered in scales as well and in his hand was a spear. They reacted to her fear and instantly started heading towards the cloaked Edgar. Lasair in the meantime grabbed her rucksack and scrambled out of the booth, trying to head to the exit.



((You can have Lasair rather cutely trip when Edgar catches up to her.))

[Twisted Infinitum]

Edgar spun, bewildered as much as an Edgar can be, and watched Lasair dodge past him. His head suddenly rang with, Not again! Let mommy get her, and Edgar's whole body cranked back as something very big and very powerful forced its way in, not for the first time.

Calico pinwheeled her new arms and caught herself before the borrowed body fell onto the table. Then, she pushed forward with frantic, mismatched strides. "Wait, sweety!" she shouted from Edgar's mouth in a voice that was high and feminine, as drastic a change from normal as the eye that now blazed red like a dying star.

Suddenly, the dream demon felt two things striking her from behind. Touch, itself, was a foreign and very distasteful concept to her, despite her numerous visits to the material world. So, when the two boarders began stabbing her with pointy objects, she did what came naturally in such a situation. She howled a note somewhere between screaming and mewling and flailed her arms about like the moon itself was slamming upon the inn. But, with one plushie in the middle of her back and the other latched tightly onto her left leg, she couldn't reach them.

Many of the shocked patrons stood and danced out of Lasair's way, and many of the stronger men stomped toward the puppet, proving that this was definitely a better neighborhood than the last one. However, their thick, chivalrous arms stopped inches away when the charging construct's hood kicked back and revealed a skull that was half wooden, and half ghostly biology lesson.

"It's a misunderstanding!" Calico screamed as she found her voice under the waves of unfamiliar pain. Hot on Lasair's heels, she burst between tables and cringing diners, though her current goal was not so much catching the fae as it was trying to shake off the little assassins. "Edgar didn't mean to be scary. He saved you from that bad man who was taking you!" she continued with her earlier prepared statements, because she couldn't come up with anything new at the moment; this burning, stabbing, screaming moment. "And the bad man didn't die! He just went to sleep! My Edgar wouldn't kill anyone."

With a sound like a baby bird falling from the nest, Lasair tripped on a foot that hadn't jerked out of the way fast enough and slid to a halt just steps away from the door. Calico, however, kept running. Her gummy foot grazed Lasair's side and slipped off, sending the construct spinning toward the door.

Whatever Fate ruled over Althanas apparently didn't appreciate intrusions by higher beings, because the random trajectory of Calico's flight didn't shoot her outside, but rather straight into the door frame. With a sound like a forest clapping, the wooden side of the skull pounded a notch into the age-worn architecture and the whole mismatched body clattered to the floor.

Apparently, the small attackers had been thrown clear upon the crash landing, though that meant little compared to the small nuclear detonation of pain that rocked Calico's material skull. The entire establishment, as well as many people looking in through the open door, became dead silent and watched the bizarre, crumpled up form for signs of life.

Eventually, those signs came in the form of dry, agonizing sobs.

This was an occasion to remember. Any time in the past, Calico would have left Edgar to the ravages of pain at the first sign of it. However, she wanted this innocent little fae to love her so badly that she had endured, not to mention the fact Edgar had apparently smartened up enough to deny control of his own body when it was clearly not a fun place to be.

Whimpering with renewed vigor, Calico twitched her body around pointlessly in what seemed like a tantrum, and she snapped about her head that now bore a faint crack in the wooden side. The 'stab wounds' were even less evident, nothing but scratches on the unbroken sifan cloth. But, that's the sensitivity of a nonmaterial being for you.

[Lasair Anubail]

Lasair remained as still as possible as she watched the crumpled form of the person, being... thing named Edgar. The voice that had come from it had sounded like the woman in the dream, like the woman who had started this whole thing by telling her to go to that tavern. But if her words were true than the human she had originally met wasn’t dead and this pile of wood and gooey stuff was really the person she was supposed to meet. She didn’t know if she should trust it though. It could be lying to her so that it could... could... well, she didn’t really know what it wanted to do with her but nothing bad really came to mind. Maybe it was telling her the truth, no matter how scary it looked.

She watched with wide eyes as the body began a bit of a convulsing tantrum that reminded Lasair of something similar to what she’d do when she didn’t get her way. When she was little of course. She hadn’t done that in a while. And when she said a while, she really meant just a few months ago when Aileen tried to get her to do something she really didn’t want to.

Tristram and Avery quickly appeared before her again; ready to once more resume their attack on the wooden construct. Their weapons were in their tiny little; well constructed fingers and their wings sent them on a crash course straight for the flailing body of Edgar-who-sounded-like-a-woman.
“No, don’t!” She said to the two of them.

Avery immediately backed away from the cloaked body, but Tristram hesitated, unsure if he wanted to comply with her command or not. As her plushie, he was made to listen to her but since she had made him with the blood of her best friend, he had a bad habit of not listening to her sometimes.

“Are you sure?” he grunted, the rough sounding voice out of place from such a cute little stuffed toy.

She nodded her head, “Yeah...”

She really wasn’t though. All logic said that she should just run for the hills now that it was down and couldn’t attack her, but it was the one that contacted her in the first place. If it wanted her dead then it could have killed her long before now. Perhaps it was all some kind of misunderstanding. The two of them lowered their weapons but did not put them away just in case she called upon them instead. They both took positions on her shoulders, Tristram on the right and Avery on the left.

Tentatively, the tiny Fae began to crawl closer towards the downed cloaked form. Still keeping a bit of a distance between them, she reached out with one of her hands and poked the soft cloth, retracting her hand right away as if she were expecting something to lash out and attack her.

“Are you really not going to hurt me?”

[Twisted Infinitum]

The instant that Lasair posed the question, the tantrum stopped and the only sound to come from the puppet's mouth was a rising, swooning squeal, like a joy reactor going critical. "Sweety," Calico cooed as she bolted up to a seated position and spread her arms so much that the dual nature of them was as clear as that of the skull. The gummy side of her face bore a huge grin that might have spread disasterously, turning the face inside out, if not for the stoic wooden side anchoring it. "I'd never hurt you! I'll protect you just like I protect my dear sweet Edgar."

Far away, Edgar lolled his tongue against his bubble and twitched his eye at the memories of his master's "protection".

The witnesses to the strange scene were still silent, moreso in confusion now. They simply stared at the conversation that seemed so bizarre and ignorant of the crowd that it might have been a hallucination. A few people sniffed their ale suspiciously.

Calico was truly as ignorant of them as she seemed to be. This was a small world of petty, insignificant beings, all except for this one that she had come to find. Her blazingly red eye, locked only on Lasair's innocent face, wobbled as the body recognized the pure and powerful emotion being impressed upon it.

"By the way," she suddenly burst out, waving her arms excitedly. "I'm Onyx Calico. You can call me Calico. I'm Edgar's mommy, and I live up there. I'm just visiting right now." She pointed directly upward, causing every witness to look skyward as if expecting some god to reach down and reclaim this fallen... angel? "Do you know why I came? Do you?" she asked, scooting forward on her butt until the cloak had ridden up to the knees.

"I came..." she paused for dramatic effect. Perhaps she really was conscious, just a little bit, of the audience even if she didn't show it. "For YOU!" She threw her hands up as if fistfuls of confetti should come flying out. "Cause you're the Chosen One. Yup." She nodded fiercely, causing the jaw to clack about on its hinge. "You've been chosen to go to Imperial with my Edgar. They've been waiting for you two for oh so long. Then, you guys will save the world!"

Suddenly, her voice snapped from orgasmic jubilation to dry curiosity with, "So, where is Imperial?"

[Lasair Anubail]

Calico certainly was quite energetic and enthusiastic; Lasair couldn’t help but start feeling excited after the prospect of going to Imperial with her and her Edgar, even if he was a little scary looking. Perhaps she would get used to his mushy face and all the wooden contraptions that came with it after a short amount of time. After all, the Draconians were rather scary looking people and she’d grown up with them her entire life! She’d even snuck into The Ceann Cath’s house before and he didn’t eat her alive like the other children had said he would. In fact, he had seemed rather pleased with her and Tristram, beside the scolding eyes and the reprimands and a lot of big words that were thrown around at the time she really couldn’t understand. But she’d only been around eleven then, so who could blame her?

“I thought you knew where Imperial was...”

She tilted her head to the side as she stared into the red eye. It had been orange before. Perhaps when Edgar was controlling the body it was orange and when it was Calico it turned red. Yep, most likely. She would have to remember that in order to tell them apart. Then again, the clearly female voice would also help the situation out.

“Oh and my name’s Lasair Anubail and this is Avery Nito,” She introduced the one winged plushie first, “And this guy over here is Tristram, the plushie version of my best friend. I made both of them at my synthesis shop before leaving home, so they would keep me company and safe.” She said rather proudly. She really did love her plushies, whenever there was no one else around to talk to they helped keep the loneliness at bay and they brought with her a little bit of home. Even though Avery wasn’t exactly from home and she had met him in her shop and had mind blowing sex with him for about three days.

Now that she knew the scary man and his mommy Calico weren’t trying to hurt her though, they could move on to getting to Imperial. Wherever Imperial might be.

“The man I was talking to didn’t say anything about where Imperial was... so we’ll just have to search for them!”

Quickly jumping to her feet, the petite Fae made right for the door, but stopped and turned back to Edgar... err Calico.

“Umm... how do we search for them?”

[Twisted Infinitum]

Most of Lasair's speech was muted to an adorable buzz as Calico waved at the plushies. "So cute!" she squealed like it was her first time encountering them. She hadn't poked around enough in Lasair's synthesis shop memories to know about them, and the recent stabby meeting seemed lost to her handbasket of repressed trauma. Damn heavy basket, by the way.

"The only way to search for something," she said slowly as she picked up Lasair's last question, "Is to ask pointed and direct questions of everyone who makes eye contact with you!" She finished in a triumphant bellow that seemed to lift her to a standing position through righteous determination alone. Then, she spun a circle and swept her ruby gaze over all of their admirers. But, people suddenly seemed disinterested, at least when her face pointed at them. Most were studying their ale, or their neighbor's ale, or their shoes. One fellow found nothing to study but a waitress' cleavage. He got slapped.

"How predicatable," Calico huffed, "The city is always so busy. It's like we're invisible in the crowd. Oh well." Joining Lasair at the door, she lifted her wooden hand and pointed to some random location in the night sky. "Onward, Edgar! Go ask questions. I'm going to check my messages." She turned to give Lasair a pinch on the cheek (with her gummy hand, thank god) and a quick, "You're so cute." Then, the body jolted like it was discovering a new dance craze, and the pupper's eye switched back to the dull orange of Edgar mode.

"Hello," Edgar garbled down to the fae. "Check dreams," he added, clearly indicating where Calico had gone. "We go." With the good old awkward rigidity in his stride, he led the way out into the night. And the aimless wandering began.

~

"Imperial?" the puppet asked the old man.

"Yup." He nodded happily in time with the sway of his rocking chair.

"Big house?"

"Yup."

"There?" Edgar pointed down one of the three dark streets that ran away from his and Lasair's location.

"Yup," the old man said cheerily.

"Thank you," Edgar gurgled, and he wobbled off in that direction.

Calico's relief filled his head. With it being night, and this being one of the shadier parts of Radasanth, there had been very few people who wanted to talk to him. Not that there was a lack of people, mind you. Every alley they passed seemed to have one or two shadowy figures peeping out, though they quickly moved away when the bare-headed puppet approached. There was even one particularly large silhouette that seemed to hang around behind them. Unfortunately, it pulled the same trick every time Edgar looked back.

"Not nice town," he rattled, summarizing rather pointedly what had surely been a Calico-esque tirade on the other side of the world divide.

Looking back occasionally, just cause his master told him to check on the fae, he wobbled on down the street despite the increasing scarcity of lamps. Eventually, they would get there, or so his master told him.

~

"Time for bed, Grandpa," said the young man who came out onto the porch.

"Yup," the old man nodded, to which his grandson just smiled piteously as he aided the elder to his feet. "I saw a boy with no skin."

"Of course you did," the young man sighed. They staggered on inside as the rambling continued between 'yup's.

[Lasair Anubail]

Lasair barely faired any better than Edgar did. In the dark streets of Radasanth, as they wandered further from the Governments District and into areas that stank of filth and rot and were shadowed in darkness, people paid less attention to her, or far too much. Her politely asked questions were answered with grunts or non-committal replies that she couldn’t really understand because they had nothing to do with her questions. The worst was when they answered her with a question of their own, usually one pertaining to some kind of activity that she wasn’t particularly interested in at the moment. Most of them tended to shy away from her the moment they realized that walking puppet of a man was a companion of hers though. He was a rather scary looking fellow. Maybe if he pulled his hood back up he’d have better luck, that way they couldn’t see all the goo and the wood.

“Hiya, I’m looking for Imperial!” She said as cheerfully as she could, poking her head into the dark alley that seemed to house a few different people. The Fae couldn’t understand what was so great about an alleyway, especially this one. It smelled funny, like vegetables left out in the sun for too long. Not very pleasant at all.

“Imperial?” A grunt followed the question and Lasair patiently waited for him to give her an answer. “I can show you to Imperial.”

The little wings upon her back perked up and shimmered in the dull light of the night, making it look like some strange white silhouette was dancing behind her. The man seemed slightly perturbed by it for a moment, before he reached up and scratched along the growth of stubble taking over the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, they’re down here.”

Finally, someone with answers!

“Thanks, Mister, I’ll be right back!”

The man was about to stop her, reaching out to grab her arm but she was much too quick for him. Her little form had already ducked away from the entrance of the alleyway and was walking right back out into the street but wasn’t really going too far. Her golden eyes were just searching for Edgar so she could tell him that she’d finally found someone.

As she opened her mouth to yell down at him though, something clamped itself over it and muffled the cry before it could even move passed her lips. Letting out a strangle yelp of surprise, the tiny Fae squirmed around as arm wrapped itself around her torso, pinning her up against something hard and rather immovable feeling. Struggling against the grip of whomever it was holding her, Lasair bit down on the hand covering her mouth so hard she felt the taste of blood enter her mouth.

She heard him curse behind her and move his hand away.

“Edga—”

She didn’t get the time to completely scream his name before something crashed into the back of her head making her whole world turn upside down and a pain unlike anything explode somewhere beyond her eyes. It made pretty lights dance in front of her eyes seconds before she slumped forward.

[Twisted Infinitum]

That's when I led all the puppies out of the burning building. And everyone was happy! The End, Calico said into the mind of her most recent dreamer. His bubble-bound image looked much like that of a scholar, old and wizened, a little unkempt, and wobbly like he had downed a brewery. He almost flopped forward onto his writing desk a few times, but his hand kept working quill to parchment in such a way that Calico's rambling dictation would seem more biblical. It probably wouldn't work, though. She had tried before, and no matter how old the scholar, or how drunk she got him in the dream, or how hard she pushed for him to remember the words when he awoke, she had yet to have her work featured in any religious texts.

Now, remember. It's the Book of Cali, she instructed, not for the first time. The old scholar belched. Book. Of. Ca-aaaaaaah! Lasair!

The bubble disappeared as Calico dove for Edgar's bubble, where she had a perfect, if dark, view of the darling fae girl flopping forward in a shadowy man's arms. No time to be a hero, Edgar! Let mommy do it.

~

"Hero mommy," the puppet chirped before the invisible battering ram of godly force sent his body capering about the street, and his mind to nowhere in particular.

"Lasair!" Calico shouted as loud as Edgar's volume could go and launched herself awkwardly toward the alley mouth. She wasn't moving fast enough, though. It seemed like the man had Lasair over his shoulder and was running deeper into the shadows within the blink of an eye.

Another blink later, she saw nothing but the muscle-stretched shirt of the figure that had been following them this whole time. She recognized the bulging shoulders, the bald head, and the comparatively skinny legs. "Back off," the man growled menacingly through a few days of stubble. He couldn't keep the fierceness constant in his face, though, for this up close and personal view of Edgar was tugging his eyebrows so high there must have been balloons attached.

Calico hissed and tried to dart around him, but those skinny legs were fast. She only needed to bob in a direction and he was already there with arms crossed and his wide face held pompously upward. They danced like that for far too long, travelling in a semi-circle around the alley entrance. Apparently, there was something funny about it, because the man began to chuckle, then laugh, then roar with delight.

That was when Calico cranked her wooden leg back. Gears creaked, wood grated, and springs whined in protest. Then, the leg swept upward with a mother's indignant fury, and the brute rode upon it for a split second of humorless, wood on flesh cacophony. He landed, pale and croaking, in the exact spot he had been standing before, and the fact he landed on his feet was less to do with skill and more to do with temporary rigor mortis. She finally darted past the spry body that now frantically tried to remember the mechanism of breathing.

The alley mouth was empty, though. Not a hair or sparkle of the girl. "Lasair!" she called into the dark architectural crevice. "Sweety?" Edgar's body was suddenly bulldozed again, but not by Calico entering or leaving. The hulk of a man wore the puppet like a shoulder pad on the short trip to the nearest wall, where Calico found a new level of pain between a rock and a crying, spitting, red-faced place.

~

The dream demon jolted away from Edgar's bubble screaming. It was unintelligible, frantic, shameless hysterics that disturbed the ambient thoughts so much that the mismatched colors of the Dream World turned heavily toward splotches of black and blue in that moment. Calico curled up on herself, eyes buried in knees and hair and tail wrapped around her like an ivory shell.

Edgar's mouth waggled and twitched against his bubble as he was suddenly immersed in his battered body, and neither half could work up a proper response to the rough, staggering grapple that took the puppet down the dark alley and through a heavy, creaking steel door at a stone building's rear.

[Lasair Anubail]

She felt cold. Something hard and unforgiving was pressing into the side of her body and leeching away all the warmth in her skin, making her feel as cold as ice. It felt like stone, stone covered in dust and the moment she started breathing in earnest as if she had forgotten all this time she sneezed. The sound bounced around the silence of the room, making Lasair realize she was no longer outside. Sound wouldn’t bounce like that outside...would it?

Giving out a soft moan, Lasair attempted to stand up, only her arms wouldn’t properly respond in the way that she commanded of them. Instead of moving separately of one another, they both went in the same direction and no amount of telling them otherwise seemed to work. Her head was pounding as well and the back of it felt extremely tender. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. Daring to open one of her eyes, she looked down to realize she was lying on her side upon a dusty, stone floor and her hands were tied in front of her. Coarse and thick rope was binding them together, making it extremely uncomfortable on her bare skin whenever she tried to move them. Her feet weren’t bound though, she could move them as much as she wanted and so with a bit of help, she eventually pushed herself into a sitting position and looked around the room.

It was dark and dusty and a little stuffy too, as if the air had been sitting in there for too long, like it was trapped in a bubble. And the room was filled with wooden crates, they were stacked high on top of each other and some of them were even covered in a grey and dirty looking cloth. But she couldn’t see whatever may be within them. They did however obscure her view of the room rather well, which was hard enough to see in as it was. There were no fires and no candles to keep the darkness at bay, just the dim moonlight that seemed to filter in through the grimy and dirty covered windows. At least some of them were broken which allowed for a nice, steady stream of the soft, blue light to stain the floor.

Whipping her head around this way and that, which only served to further explode her headache down to the base of her skull and somewhere beyond her eyeballs, the tiny Fae desperately tried to find someone in the darkness. Eventually, her golden eyes came to rest on what looked like a slumped figure across the way from her. She couldn’t see much of it for the meagre light was overshadowing it and making the area darker than it probably was. But she recognized the cloak immediately.

“Edgar?” Her voice came out as a raspy whisper. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Edgar? Edgar!”

Just then she heard the sound of a heavy door opening and sliding closed, quickly followed by shuffling footsteps that dragged across the dusty floor. It only took a few seconds for two men to come into her view, one of them she didn’t recognize at all, but the other one was the man she’d originally met in the tavern, the one who was going to go to Imperial with her.

So he was alive and Calico had been telling her the truth!

A smile spread over her face as he somewhat limped closer to her, one of his arms protectively holding onto his stomach, right in the area he’d been stabbed. But the moment a ray of light slashed across his face and she saw the expression that lay upon it, her smile faltered and fell. He looked angry, very, very angry. Perhaps Edgar stabbing him had done that to his face.

“Mr. Man!” Lasair called out to him and immediately his hard eyes met her face and the look within them didn’t soften. Lucky for her she grew up with Draconians and looks like that didn’t bother her at all! “For some reason I’m kind of tied up, do you think you could take the ropes off? They kind of hurt...”

The last part came out as a pout as she looked down at her tied wrists and held them up to him. Sadly, her question only brought forth a raucous bout of laughter from both of the men.

“Now why would we want to let you go, sugar? We’re going to make a lot of money off the two of you.” His grimace turned into a sick and twisted grin as he looked down at her.

“Really? How? I didn’t know that my skills with synthesizing were good enough to make people a lot of money.” She said as she lowered her arms to the ground again.

Her innocent little statement seemed to confuse him for a moment, “What do you mean, how? We’re going to ransom you to Imperial, so be a good little captive.”

She smiled, “Okay! Oh... but, what’s a captive and what’s ransom....?”

[Twisted Infinitum]

Lasair's shouts travelled a great distance to reach the silken, weeping egg of hair. Slowly, it hatched, just enough for Calico's quaking eye to peek out. It had hurt so much, such an overload that she didn't know how to respond, let alone comprehend it. The horizon still throbbed with dark bruises, horrible black and blue voids that danced everywhere, even behind Edgar's bubble like creatures hungry for her son and the delicious fae whose bound image he presented.

Pain, don't eat my babies, she hissed as she lurched forward and her hair and tail returned to their usual positions like great fans behind her. The horizon brightened at her approach, regaining almost all of the fair balance between the flowing colors. Mine!

~

At the internal stimulus, Edgar waggled his creaking jaw. He still felt that hot afterglow of pain, though it wasn't as overwhelming as before. And, with his master returned to him, it wasn't as lonely. "Don't eat babies. Mine!" he croaked, and he tried to crawl toward Lasair. But, his wooden arm wouldn't move. After kicking forward a few times, he looked back at what held him. Twin lengths of chain seemed to burn in the combination of spotty moonlight and the glow of his eye, and they continued off into the shadows until disappearing over the lip of one of the crates.

Apparently, the captors didn't know how to properly restrain an Edgar, so they had fastened him to the largest box of chain in the storeroom by way of the loose ends hanging out. One was fastened around his wooden wrist, the other about his wooden ankle. The other limbs either weren't seen as a threat, or just too icky to bother with.

"Babies?" one of the men grumbled under his breath while the scar-faced one laughed at the fae. Edgar didn't recognize him. He was too skinny to be the one from the street, but he still had some definition under his soiled white shirt, which wasn't nearly as soiled as the thick leather overalls he wore. He must have been a dock worker. The puppet had ridden in enough cargo and been kicked off enough ships to recognize the kind of person who often dragged him around in those situations. "I'll get the proof," the scruffy man said to his boss as he walked over to Edgar, though the obvious question of Edgar's dietary/parenting habits still burned in his eyes.

Mommy's too sore to help you, Calico said weakly to him, sounding more scared than sore. Rip off his block and tackle for me!

Edgar's gummy hand stretched for the figure and anything that might fit the description of 'block and tackle'. All he could guess, though, was that it might refer to the thick bandage on the man's left hand. He got three sticky fingers under it and gave a yank that revealed the child-sized bite mark.

Expertly, and with only a hint of surprise, the thug ripped a club from his belt and smashed it down on Edgar's hand like any old fish that refused to die. And die it did, in a gummy splatter that left it flat and filled with broken shards of bone. The puppet's eye bulged, flashing with newfound brightness, and a long mournful rumble welled up from his throat.

Inside his head, Calico's scream rose and fell like a tsunami, cresting in time with every shift of light that made the widespread spray of Hanchulan goo more visible along the floor. The wooden side of Edgar's face hit the floor too, just because this was the typical situation where he would play dead, and it ranked up there with landing in a camp of angry Ice Wraiths.

Without even an "Eww", the cold-eyed assailant used the tip of his club to collect a sample of the escaped goo. He carried it back to his boss, and just as efficiently scraped it into an envelope the armored man had brought with him.

[Lasair Anubail]

He seemed to be growing agitated now with her questions, though she didn’t understand why. They were very legitimate. She had no idea what ransom and captor meant, she’d never heard them used before, not in common anyway. Maybe if he said the words in Dheath she would understand them right away, but she doubted that he understood Dheath. No one outside of Dheathain appeared to speak it, which was a shame. It was a good language to know. One should always inform themselves of the different languages around the world, which was why she knew Tradespeak and Common. Couldn’t get by without it after all.

“Look!” He grumbled at her, pointy a meaty finger toward her face in a rather rude manor. “It doesn’t matter, just behave. Do not move from that spot and do not give me any trouble and when I receive the money, I’ll remove the ropes.”
“Seems fair to—”

Her words were cut short as she caught sight of what the other man was doing. She may not have noticed if not for the strangled cry of pain that escaped from the confines of Edgar’s throat, or what could be classified as a throat. She wasn’t entirely sure if he had one or not, but nonetheless. The pain and anguish that filled the empty space of the room with that sound was enough to rip her heart from her chest and make her gasp. Her hands curled up into little balls and tucked themselves under her chin as she watched the man collect some of the goo that had made up Edgar’s hand and give to the other man as if he didn’t even care that he had smashed his hand upon the ground! In fact, the two of them seemed quite content and happy with this accomplishment.

“Should we get some proof off the girl?” The man with the club said, still holding the mean piece of wood in his thin fingers.

“Of course.”

Oh, she didn’t like the sound of this. Did he plan on smashing her hand against the ground too? She certainly hoped not, she needed it and he had two perfectly good ones attached to his wrists, so he certainly didn’t need hers.

As he moved towards her, the tiny Fae lowered her hands from under her chin and held her head high, ready to give him what for and show him who was boss, which meant one thing.

“TRISTRAM!”

The scream ripped through the dark room of the warehouse and echoed off the stone and wood walls, ringing through the ears of the two men before her, who grimaced at the shrill sound. For such a small little person, she certainly could pack quite the powerful voice. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Lasair was about to get ready to defend herself when out of nowhere shot a small flying object that rammed itself right into the side of clubman’s head. He grunted and lost his balance, stumbling off to the side before quickly regaining it once more. Confused and angry, his head snapped around and looked all over the place for whatever had hit him, only to land upon the nine inch figure of Tristram, her plushie, flying towards him like a hell bat.

With his spear in hand, the Draconian plushie charged for the man’s face, intending to possibly impale one of his eyes. As he got closer to the man, the large wooden club cut through the air faster than any sword it seemed, slamming into the side of the plushie and sending him to the ground with a very light thud. One of his wings had been completely ripped off and stuffing was pouring out of his body in clumps of white cotton.

“T-Tristram?”

He didn’t move, he didn’t even answer her.

“What the fuck was that!?”

His wide golden eyes shot to the face of the club wielding man, red with anger and exertion from having to battle the small toy. Watching as he poked Tristram a few times with his stick to make sure he wouldn’t move, the man then turned his attention back to her.

“Why the Hell is Imperial using people that fight with toys? That thing was made out of cotton; the only thing dangerous was his needle of a weapon!”

The scar faced man just shrugged, “Just collect the damn evidence from the woman.”

Oh, it would be a cold day in Eadhochas before she let that happen. As the club man came towards her, the little Fae readied herself and the moment he got close enough she lashed out with her foot. The top part of her white boot slammed into the man’s leg and sent him stumbling a few paces away from her. It only served to turn his face into a mask of fury though as he lifted his club high above his head and readied to strike her. She didn’t even flinch, but she did blink in surprise as the scar faced man grabbed it and stopped him from hitting her.

Moving towards her, Lasair watched with wide eyes as he moved behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder so she couldn’t turn around. As she sat there staring off at the downed figure of Edgar, she felt something brush up against one of her wings and couldn’t help the shiver that went through her and caused them to flutter. They were sensitive and that felt weird. After a few more times of it, he got up and moved back towards his friend.

“There, now we just need to send it off to Imperial.”

The two men exchanged a knowing grin as they turned and made to leave Lasair and Edgar.

[Tera]

Envelopes arrived every day for the different members housed within the glorious walls of the Dirk's estate. This one was only slightly different from the rest, but not enough for the Blonde to suspect of anything unusual. Probably a bit of junk mail, or some strange tribute to the Mother form some week lord of some small pittance of a village.

A yawn escaped Winter as she walked through the halls of the estate, the bulk of the days mail barely contained in her arms. She struggled to hold onto it all as she reached the door to Tera's study, having to use almost every part of her body to keep from dropping the mail while opening the seemingly over heavy door.

The Vampress was busy looking over a book on torture methods used over the last six thousand years, occasionally erupting with a chuckle.

“You know Winter, it would seem, the more I read, the more I feel as if I missed some amazing times.” Tera said with a soft smile.

“Yes mistress,” the shy girl said somewhat absently as she sorted out the mail, “Your mail, mistress” she said before setting it before her.

Tera looked absently through it before coming to a rather plain, but large envelope.

“More crap from one of those fearful lords probably....” she said as she opened it and poured out the contents, which really more or less slid before making a wet plop on the wood of her desk followed by a shower of what seemed to be glitter.

“Gelatin?” Tera said as she prodded it with a finger.

“It would appear so.” Winter chimed in.

Out of the corner of her eye the vampress noticed the small bit of paper inside the envelope.

“Winter, please remove this note and read it to me.” she asked distastefully.

With a disgusted look the blonde removed the sticky page and proceeded to read the cut and pasted newspaper words.

"Give us three million gold pieces or you'll never see them alive again."

With a raised brow Tera lit up a cigarillo “Hmm... are we missing someone?”

“Not that I am aware of mistress” Winter replied as she placed the letter back.

“Hmm...well in that case, get a maid up here to clean my desk.” Tera said before standing and walking towards the door, “was there a return address?”

“No mistress”

“Well in that case, should we ever find out who sent it, remind me to send them a nice present, like a rabid badger or fire ants or something.”

[Twisted Infinitum]

The change of lighting in Edgar's bubble image betrayed the passage of time, prodding Calico's anxiety with every passing second since the cruel men had left. They had assaulted Lasair after Edgar, though the dream demon couldn't see exactly what was being done. At least it was over. If the daylight that shone through the windows would just stop, if time would just freeze, then her son and Lasair would be safe. But, with each incremental shift of the shadows, she knew it was more and more likely that the fae/Edgar-nappers would return.

Hurry hurry hurry!

Edgar tried. He had been dragging his deflated flap of a hand over the gummy aftermath as fast as he could all through sunrise. It was just a little hard to do, what with the uselessness of the limb and the impressive blast radius of its innards. The task was almost done, though, with only a few last droplets to mop back up. The misshapen lumps that clung about his hand would reform later. Hopefully.

It's okay, Lasair. We're coming for you! Calico shouted as soon as he was done, and she bid him forward with a few emphatic gestures.

"Coming for you," the puppet sputtered. If not for the shafts of bright sunlight, it might have seemed like a scene from 'Monster of the Storeroom'.

And come Edgar did, slowly. With all his mother's love and his own scrap of desire to be a good son, he lunged forward. The chains hummed with tension, jerking him to a stop at a dangerously forward angle. Then, a sudden cacophony of metal-on-wood pops filled the wide room as the chains began to feed from the crate. Edgar flopped forward and set himself to crawling, moving as forcefully as possible to keep the unspooling chains from losing momentum.

His good fortune was not infinite, though. Just a few feet from Lasair, his limbs were yanked out from under him as the chains knotted solidly in the crate.

"Yay, close enough," Edgar mimicked into the dirty floor.

[Lasair Anubail]

Lasair blinked and stood still as she watched Edgar try to inch his way towards her position. His body looked like a twisted and choppy doll that tried desperately to move closer and closer to her. It would have looked macabre to any other person, sick and twisted; only to Lasair she didn’t see any of it. She just saw a man frantically trying to get closer and closer to her. Sadly, Edgar would not be allowed to get all the way to her position. He pulled upon the chains, which rattled and chipped away at their wooden box until finally they would reach no further and allow him to come no closer.

“I can help!” Lasair said enthusiastically, her high voice bouncing around the large room.

Smiling at the strange man, Lasair took a deep breath and then all of a sudden shrunk. Her form disappeared right before the eyes of Edgar and became nothing more than a floating, fiery ball of light no more than six inches in height. It hovered there—she hovered there—for a few seconds then reverted back to her natural form without the ropes binding her arms. In fact, the ropes had fallen to the dusty ground the moment she had transformed.

“See!”

Quickly standing, the Fae moved behind the chained form of Edgar and to the box a few feet away that the metal manacles disappeared into. At the bottom of the crate, she noticed two hooks that the chains appeared to be attached too and quickly reached down into the crate to reach them. Sadly, her arm length was just a little too short and she ended up nearly crawling into the crate in order to unhook them, leaving her butt high up in the air as her fingers finally got a grip upon the cool metal. With a quick and simple jerk she removed the chains from the hooks and allowed them to fall with a quick rattle.

When she turned back to her new companion though, her golden eyes fell upon the figure of her plushie, still lying unmoving on the ground. Walking over to him, she carefully reached down and picked him and his broken wing up from the ground, holding them carefully in her hand.

“Tristram?”

He still wouldn’t respond to her and as she looked at the broken form of her plushie, she could feel the tears beginning to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you.”

But first she had to find her rucksack. She was rather certain it was somewhere in this room, otherwise Tristram would not have been able to help her to begin with. Looking around at the piles of crates and barrels and cloths covered in dust, the Fae began to explore. She kept close to the area that her and Edgar had been tied up in, hoping that they would not have stashed her belongings very far from them and sure enough, she found her brown leather rucksack hidden a few rows down. It had been stuffed into one of the open crates and was now completely covered in dust and other kinds of debris, but she didn’t really care. She had found it.

“Avery.”

The rucksack moved and then the top flopped open as another plushie came out, wearing only a belt with two daggers, a pair of leather pants and one wing. He looked up at her face with concern.

“What’s wrong, Lasair?”

She sniffled, “Keep Tristram safe for me.”

He looked at the wounded plushie in her hand, visibly grimacing. Then he flew up and carefully retrieved the downed Draconian from her grip and returned to the rucksack, which she then grabbed and swung over her shoulders before returning to Edgar. Avery emerged a few moments later and perched himself upon her shoulder having safely tucked Tristram inside.

“Edgar! I have everything. Can we leave now? I don’t like this place very much...”

[Twisted Infinitum]

It was a neat trick, the whole shrinky thing, and Calico would have no doubt squealed to see it. However, all she could see through the Dream World end of things was the floorboards that Edgar was mashing his nose into. Even Lasair's untethering of him went unnoticed by the dream demon until Edgar's dream half quivered excitedly around his bubble.

Need a potty break, sweety? she asked with the utmost sympathy. Seeing as you can't go any further, you'll have to go there... somewhere. Revulsion screwed up her fuzzy face. At least go behind the crates so you don't give Lasair an icky show.

'Potty break' was a new concept for the puppet, what with his lack of necessary holes. That whole track of organs floating in his gooey side might as well have been pretty streamers. He did recognize the command to go somewhere, though, so he stood and wobbled over to a crate in front of him.

Calico stared confusedly into the bubble, thoughts humming loudly. You're walking farther? Oh, you're so strong to drag the chain crate with you! He looked back, only because the crate of chains was his master's topic, and saw the loose ends skittering along the floor behind him. A smiling Lasair stood over them. Calico screamed.

She's an escape artist! And she helped you escape! That's awesome! Her voice throbbed in his skull apparently with no effect, for he continued his trek to the shadows between the crates with the chains dragging and forgotten. You should thank her. Edgar knew how to be polite, even if he didn't know the why, so it was with a gurgle of, "Thank you," that he disappeared between two crates.

With a crash that made some of the boxes jump, the fish masher burst into the room. He almost shouted something along the lines of "shut up", but then he realized that there were bigger problems at hand. "Don't move," he commanded of Lasair as he advanced into the room.

The heavy metal thud against his boots distracted him as his feet crashed into the chains that led off into the crates ahead of him. With more cold anger than confusion, he grabbed one up in his bandaged hand and looked to where the strange wooden thing had been tied. A shoreman's curse escaped his lips to find the thing gone.

Run!

Edgar did. He burst from the shadows one gap to the side of where his chains led, and the tension as the metal tails wrapped about the crate barely seemed to slow him. In his path, though, a club appeared and tensed to mash his face in, yet he charged forward undeterred, or unknowing. The chains began to rasp around the edges of the crate, and then also against the man's bandaged palm. With a startled, almost unmanly shout, the chain was released and whipped along in Edgar's path. The flailing ends disappeared and reappeared from the dark recesses of the storeroom as Edgar bounded toward the stunned man.

Obstacle avoidance kicked in, then, and the puppet dodged around the man to head for the door. The chains just kept going, right into the would-be puppet masher's neck. With the force of a donkey kick, the metal hit somewhere between his adam's apple and jugular and wrapped around like a rancher's lasso.

With all his limbs flailing wildly, Edgar shot into the dim hall and careened around a corner. A long stone corridor, water marked and dirty, stretched before him with numerous doorless openings in the sides. He only got as far as the first before him and his gurgling anchor in the other room both left the floor. His own gurgle left his mouth as he was snapped and thrown back to the ground.

Calico watched in horror as the ceiling and walls seemed to spin in the bubble and the scream of metal reached her. There was another sound, though, something that might have gone unnoticed if not for her talent at entertaining numerous trains of thought (until the inevitable derailment). "Ugh ugh ugh," said the pained voice, and it was followed by a relieved sigh like someone finding an oasis in the desert.

Edgar crashed to the floor, his head lolling to the side to point at the speaker, who was visibly shocked but still recognizable behind the wide eyes. "Skinny legs," Edgar barked in response to Calico's shout, and the man just continued staring with a bag of ice held to his groin as he sat at a table, legs propped up, amid a mess of used and dripping ice bags.

Red faced, though whether it was pain or embarrassment is anyone's guess, the bald one kicked the table out of his way and charged into the hall. The bag of soothing coldness fell from his hands as they assumed strangling position.

[Lasair Anubail]

Nothing seemed to be going very well for the odd pair. With Edgar free of the crate, though still dragging his chains, they should have been able to escape. They should have been able to run away from the weird men who wanted to keep them as captives and ransom them, whatever that was. Because no one had given her a clear answer on it. They were mean men too, who squashed Edgar’s hand without any thought or care and then tried to hit her and played with her wings! She hoped the mana dust mixed with the substance that made up Edgar and exploded upon whoever opened that enveloped. Yep, exploded, right in their little face and went boom! That would teach them to mess with the wings of the Fae and the powerful substance that came off of them. But no, it appeared things were not going to be so easy for the two of them as that mean man that smelled like fish came back into the room and tried to stop them from leaving. Of course, Edgar took one look at him and started running for it, leaving Lasair standing there staring at the man rather confusedly and wondering exactly what she should be doing at this point in time.

“You know, I think it would be wise to follow him.”

She agreed with Avery, but she couldn’t help watching his strange gait and run as he practically leapt from the room. Sadly for the smelly man, the ends of his chains wrapped around his neck, tightened and yanked and cut off his air supply while also knocking him from his feet. He landed with an audible thud as he hands rose and tried to rip the chains from his neck, which were distorting the skin into something grotesque looking that she wanted to turn her eyes away from. So she did.

Hesitating for but a moment longer, the small Fae quickly began to take off after Edgar. He was already out the door and into the hallway but she was rather certain she could keep up with him, especially since he was dragging the human too. The white boots covering he feet slammed into the hard, stone floor as she quickly ran, creating a hollow thudding sounds that followed her into the hallway and ricocheted off the walls and back to her ears. She rounded the corner just in time to see Edgar thrown from his feet and land on the ground with a gurgle and a thud. She was so busy looking at him that she forgot to stop running and more importantly to look at where she was going!

Her tiny little frame slammed into the body of the human, occupied with the downed form of Edgar and despite her size, she was just enough to knock him off his feet. His much taller and large frame hit the ground with a loud grunt and she quickly followed, landing on top of him in a tangle of arms and legs and a dull, thudding pain in her leg.

“Damnu air!” She whimpered as she slowly got into a sitting position.

She didn’t make it very far before the hands of the human gripped her arms rather tightly and his growling and angry face turned to her. His lips pulling back into a sneer and revealing yellow teeth, that were neither straight nor pretty to look at.

“A-Avery!”

The small plushie was no longer on her shoulder, he’d been knocked off when she had collided with the human. Luckily for him, he has wings—err one wing—with which she could fly and keep himself from hitting the ground. And the moment he heard her call his name, his hands were on the two small daggers sheathed at his waist. Pulling them from their resting place, he charged at the human, coming in at his face and trying to literally slash his eyes out. The human of course, let her go to try and attempted to bat away the small, pesky little toy and she took the opportunity to quickly crawl away from him and towards Edgar.

[Twisted Infinitum]

Calico had seen the hands coming closer, growing in Edgar's vision like a landslide over his poor wobbly neck, and scream as she might, he couldn't do anything with his wooden limbs held fast by the taught chain. Then, a bullet, red and gold with sparkly wings, slammed into the man's rather dainty hip. His heavier top half crashed down with a force that should have shook the building.

"Yay!" Edgar screamed in unison with his master, though he lacked the enthusiasm that was currently making his head spasm.

Sadly, the "Jubilation of the Nice Shot" ended quickly with the clap of burly hands on the fae's little arms. The dream demon sputtered numerous commands at the same time, ranging from "save her" to "find their base's self-destruct switch." Edgar could do none of the above. All he accomplished was a shakey lunge with his gummy arm that did nothing more then tussel the brute's boot laces with his lumpy stump of a hand.

Another bullet saved the day, this one smaller and pointier, and landing squarely on the faenapper's face. He shouted in surprise, releasing Lasair, and at any other time, it would have warmed Calico's heart that the fae crawled to Edgar for protection. However, there was a touch too much chaos for her to pay that much attention. Edgar got his arm around Lasair, and how very fortunate for her that his wooden one was preoccupied. A hug from that limb often resulted in splinters or worse.

Then, a scream shook the mold from the smelly walls, and it came from Avery's opponent. Still screaming like a siren, the man jolted to a sitting position and swatted the doll toward where the fae and the puppet huddled. Blood flowed down his face from one ruined eye, though it was almost unnoticeable against the furious beet red of his skin. In a blur of blood and spittle and hate, he charged them.

His powerful strides seemed to take him too far at first, but then he reached down and grabbed the chain. With a herculean scream, he hoisted everything on the end of the chain into the air and swept it in circles that barely cleared the walls and ceiling.

Calico had screamed for less, so she didn't know what to do now. She just stared into the Edgar bubble with a nauseas expression as stone and lovely fae hair flitted about. "Hold on!" she pleaded, though Edgar had no intention of letting go of the girl at mach 3.

The hollering beast at the center of their rotation pulled his shoulders back, preparing for a very sudden and very solid end to the performance, likely involving a puddle of Hanchulan goo and sparkly fae bits on the floor. A split second before the impact, Edgar's wrist and ankle began to make scratching, cracking sounds. Blessings be upon V'dralla and her selection of low quality wood for his prosthetic side, because it brought them salvation in a cloud of splinters that released Edgar from his manacles.

And miracle on top of miracles, they flew straight down the hall. Stone flashed by so quickly it was featureless. Only a smudge of brown in the distance retained any definition, and it became clearer as they sped closer, resolving into a thick wooden door. Then, on the godly hammer of Edgar's skull, it ceased to be a door, and instead became a portal to the sunlit expanse beyond.

[Lasair Anubail]

Everything happened too quickly for the poor little Fae. One moment she was holding onto Edgar and catching her poor little Avery as he was so meanly thrown from the man’s face and the next moment she was being spun around in circles. Good thing Edgar could hold on to her, because she wasn’t sure if her small little arms could have done the trick. They tried, wrapping around his sides and grabbing onto his clothes and allowing her to cling to him as if he was her most favourite cuddly thing in the world. He most certainly wasn’t, in fact he felt really weird to be squashed against. She could feel the wobbly bits of him moving around like some kind of jelly packed bag of goo. It made her shudder slightly, but the spinning motion she was constantly being tossed around in was beginning to make her feel dizzy. And only one of two things happened when Lasair got dizzy, either she fell over and if that wasn’t an option she threw up.

Right now, it didn’t appear that falling over would be an option.

So she closed her eyes against the sight of the spinning room and buried her face against Edgar’s chest, or what she thought was his chest, hoping that it would help. It did, a bit, but not enough to make the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach go away. Oh, she hated getting sick.

Then she heard the sound of cracking and splintering wood and suddenly they weren’t spinning anymore. No, they were flying in one direction and the sudden change in velocity and motion nearly caused Lasair to lose what she’d eaten for breakfast. Good thing for Edgar’s clothes that she was able to hold it in. They didn’t fly for long before an even louder crack of breaking wood filled her ears, followed by the sharp and painful feeling of splinters of wood hitting her bare arms, shoulders and even her wings. She could feel the sharpened edges price her skin and cause silver blood to well along her arms and her wings. They didn’t travel very far outside before Edgar crashed into something else, completely stopping his forward momentum with a sudden jerk and grunt.

Feeling the safety of something stable beneath her besides Edgar the small Fae dared to open her golden eyes and was nearly blinded by the bright sunlight. Shaking her head and clearing it of the dazed and spinney feeling of the world not staying still even though she wanted it to, Lasair looked down at Edgar. He seemed even worse than her as nothing but grumbles and groans seemed to come from him. Though, even when he talked it came out very grumbly so perhaps he was actually all right and he just didn’t know what to say.

Slowly sitting up, Lasair realized that they were currently in the back of a wooden cart. They had crashed through the side of it and stopped only when they hit what looked to be sacks of grain. Curious, she poked one and watched as the yellowed little cylindrical thingies came out of a small tear in the side and fell along Edgar’s chest. It was definitely grain. So they were saved by flour, how nice was that. Turning her head towards the front of the cart she smiled very brightly at the elderly looking human that was dragging it forward. Or, he most likely had been dragging it forward. He wasn’t now. Nope, right now his wrinkly face was kind of skewered in a look of surprise as his deep brown eyes were held wide and his mouth hung open ever-so-slightly. And she understood that she looked rather strange to humans, but honestly there was no reason to gape at her like she was some kind of freak.

“Oh, thank you Mister Human for catching us with your cart!” She said to him rather cheerfully. “We were kidnapped by these mean old men that wanted to ransom us, so we decided to escape.”

As she finished talking, the small plushie she had been holding tightly onto took this opportunity to shake whatever brains he had back into place and climb up to her shoulder. He wrapped his cute little arms around her neck and held onto her tightly.

“Man I was worried back there.” Avery said.

Lasair just giggled and reached up, petting him slightly. “No need to worry, Avery. Edgar protected us.”

“Yeah, with his skull. I think we can count ourselves very lucky.”

“Okay, the lucky lady loved us today!”

“It’s lady luck.” Avery said to her with a large grin.

The old man holding the cart took this time to pinch his arm and make sure he was still awake and not having some kind of strange nightmare. When that didn’t work he checked his head for a fever. And finally, when Edgar got up—the hood having fallen away from him and revealing the wood and gooey thing that he called a head—he only waited for one grunt to come out of his mouth before yelling, throwing his arms up into the air and running away.

“Oh, I guess he had somewhere to be...” Lasair said a little sad as the man ran away. But no worries, Edgar and she had other things to worry about. More important things like the fact that they still needed to find Imperial despite the strange humans trying to deter them. “Come on, Edgar, we’ve got a mansion to find!”

Shifting out of the cart in a shower of grain, Lasair held out her hand and attempted to help the human thing that wasn’t really a human but she didn’t have any other way to classify him.

[Twisted Infinitum]

It was true. Edgar didn't know what to say. But, that was only because of his master who, despite having many many things to say, only managed to express the first word of each thought before rising into a shrill shout and a dance of joy. The puppet's rendition of caveman-speak was the only response he could think of as he rolled about in the grain and sat up.

Eyes. That's what he saw. First hands, then blurs, then splinters, and now eyes. Every pair of them along the whole street stared at him in awed, awkward silence like a fallen angel in her for-the-hubby-only nightgown. Some shielded their eyes against the noonday glare from the roofs and cobblestones, and then their mouths stretched even lower upon realizing that it wasn't a halucination induced by the fumes of fish merchant stalls. The merchants, too, were doing good impersonations of their wares.

Only one person was not like the others. He stared with the bald spot on the back of his head as he galloped unsteadily down the gentle slope toward the harbor. Maybe his pants are on fire, Calico mused, unconcerned, It happens sometimes on hot days.

Through the space between worlds, the fae's voice reached her like a chorus of bells, and she couldn't have turned Edgar's head faster if she had actually grabbed hold and cranked it to the side. Oh! Is she- Her words failed her. Silver lines marked Lasair's skin like decorative gilding on fine china, sparkling beautifully but still so disturbing. If Lasair's pretty inside didn't stay inside... It was only the fae's innocent, industrius smile that kept Calico from exploding in a blast of motherly sympathy.

"There they are," wheezed a familiar voice from one of the buildings. Specifically, from the doorway whose door was scattered across the street. "Get 'em!" the bouncer of a man continued, though he clearly didn't intend to be the one running. His hands were pressed so hard against his groin and his bleeding face that he could barely stand, let alone run.

The man next to him wasn't going to give chase either, for he was preoccupied with the long-forgotten art of breathing. His neck was a lively purple, and his face a cerulean blue as he leaned against the doorframe and shivered like death's cold hand was tracing his spine.

"Idiots!" bellowed a voice behind them. In a rush of muscle that sent both men to the street, their leader appeared from the depths of the stone warehouse. His mouth was twisted as jaggedly as his scar, baring teeth that should have been pointed to match the fury with which he snorted and charged. His chest plate was absent, laying bare the bandages that wrapped his torso and were beginning to spot with fresh crimson.

Calico had just been ordering Edgar to crawl down from the cart, so he was caught with his thinner-than-usual wooden hand in the fae's and one leg hanging over the edge. Retreat! came the sudden command, so short and frenzied that the word was barely recognizable. With the same force normally reserved for a possession from above, Edgar threw himself back into the cart bed and yanked Lasair after him. The old wood creaked as they once again crashed into the running mountain of grain, and there was no driver to still the cart this time.

"My money!" spat the charging warrior, and his eyes widened as if watching two cut coin purses rolling down a hill. And rolling is exactly what they were doing. Slowly at first, one bump over a stone, then another a moment later, until the cart had reached the slow march its driver usually preferred. The slope increased ever so slightly as Radasanth leaned down toward the ocean, and soon the cart was moving faster than human legs could have moved it.

The fae-napper was so close then, hovering and huffing just behind them. His grasping, calloused hands swiped over and over like a tiger behind its bars. Another bump, and a fresh puddle of grain spilled over the lip. One heavy foot landed in it, then the man took flight. His thick fingers grappled onto the edge of the cart as his toes skittered and bounced behind, and it was with a victorious, self-satisfied grunt that he seized hold of Lasair's dress.

As the worn buildings and frightened people shot by, he hoisted his chest onto the rumbling cart and threatened to drag the poor fae with him should he fall. "You're mine, you little bitch," he snarled.

"No! Mine!" screamed the red-eyed puppet, now standing in a wide stance behind Lasair. In her shaved wooden hand, the maddened goddess raised a sack of grain like a smith's hammer and brought it down on the napper's anvil of a head. The sound as his face struck the cart bed was more of a splat than a clang, and it sounded over and over again as Calico wailed on him with the soft bludgeon. Any witty retort of his was lost in bubbles as he spoke from under the puddle of nose blood. Then, finally, he lost his grip on both the girl and the cart. Dazed and jittery, he flopped down to the street and disappeared in a puff of yellow and brown as Calico threw the sack after him.

"Victory!" the dream demon screamed, raising both hands but only managing the victory symbol with the wooden hand, seeing as fingers had yet to reform on the other. Right on cue, almost as if it was a reward for the hard fought battle, the street leveled out and turned to wooden planks. Their escape vehicle would have slowed to a gentle stop if not for the steep angle with which the nose hit the dock. The driver's handles bit in, slipping between planks and wedging the front of the cart tightly in place. The rear continued forward, and up, and ejected its load out to sea.

For the second time in five minutes, they flew. Though, this time they had wingmen in the form of a dozen grain comets, and the landing looked to be softer, or at least soggier.

[Lasair Anubail]

Lasair did not like the ride. The ground shifted and moved and jostled her around in the cart. She jumped and landed with thuds that hurt her legs and her behind. Not to mention more than once the back of her head hit Edgar’s chest and his chest was not squishy enough to be called completely comfortable. Plus that man was chasing them again and he didn’t seem intent on letting them escape. Some humans could be so rude. They had already gotten out of the building, which meant logically they had already escaped. Prisoners no more, he had no control over them so he should just give up and go home. Find someone else to kidnap. Or better yet, find a better line of work. He didn’t appear to be very good at kidnapping people. But Edgar man had smushed him with a sack of grain and then the man had let go of her. She didn’t appreciate him touching her dress. It did not belong to him.

Hopefully he would realize his defeat and surrender all his base to them!

The ground beneath them began to level and the small Fae felt a bit of relief knowing that they would soon be stopped and safe and sound. Something rather unexpected happened though. The cart stopped, jerk and then went flying up sending the contents into the air. Sadly for Lasair, she happened to be some of those contents. Lucky for Lasair, those cute little shimmering wings on her back were not just for show. As the sky loomed and then began to fall, replaced by the choppy waters of the ocean her mind kicked in. As rare as that could be in times when most people would start screaming panic. Her wings stretched and then fluttered before they started moving faster than the human eye could follow. A blur of motion began behind her as she stopped falling but merely left a trail of sparklies that fell from them and landed on the surface of the water. But she hadn’t seen any wings on Edgar. Was he incapable of flight?

Just as the thought passed her mind, the loud sound of a body impacting the lapping water resounded throughout the area. Droplets of the cold and salty liquid landed upon the Fae’s skin and mixed with the silver blood along her arms. With her eyes on the rippling place that Edgar had landed in, Lasair moved towards the dock and touched her little feet down upon the steady wooden surface. A second later Edgar’s head popped above the surface of the water and Lasair called out for him.

“Yay, Edgar!” She jumped up and down and waved her arms in the air to get his attention. “Out of the water silly, now is no time to swim!”

The little plushie on her shoulder scoffed. “Lasair, I don’t think he landed in the water by his own will, though weighing an impact upon water against one on land, I’d go for the water too.”

Edgar merely mumbled something that sounded like ‘coming’ but the Fae was unsure. His head rose a bit more out of the water and Lasair realized he could touch the ground. He was so cool and tall like that. Pretty soon he had managed to pull himself from the cool liquid and Lasair would have hugged him, if not for the fact that he was soaking wet. His clothes were clinging to his small frame and dripping water onto the dry wooden dock. She hoped the dock didn’t mind. Reaching out and grabbing his wooden stub of a hand, Lasair began leading Edgar away from the yucky water and back into town. Hopefully he would dry off soon. It would be bad to meet Imperial dripping all over the ground.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

The small Fae was once again at a bit of a standstill though. She didn’t know where to go. Or better yet she didn’t know where she should go. They had been exploring some house areas but then they’d been kidnapped. Now she was all turned around and didn’t know where she’d been and where she still needed to be. She had just made it off the dock, ignoring the stars from many onlookers when her feet stopped.

“Does Edgar know where to go?” She asked hopefully, looking up at him with big, golden eyes.

[Twisted Infinitum]

Honey, Edgar always knows where to go, Calico cooed, her eyes still quaking from the beautiful sight of Lasair in full sparkly flight, or as much as she had seen before Edgar landed in the shallow end with his grain sack pool buddies.

"Honey always," Edgar barked as his wobbly orange eye met her golden pair. It took him a moment to start moving, the orders from beyond a bit jumbled. But, when he finally stepped forward, it was with all the pride that a puppet could manage.

What was he prideful of? Hell if he knew. His master was happy. The sparkly girl was happy. He wasn't banged up as much as normal, considering how most of his great escapes went. So, it seemed like as good a situation as he ever saw through his orange-tinted glasses.

He led the fae back up the street they had just raced down, where the air now crackled with bewildered questions and harsh accusations toward the grain pile that bore bulky arms and legs. The lowest of the kernels had turned red, no doubt from a combination of the man's ruptured knife wound and the red fountain that was his nose... somewhere in the mess. Voices hushed as the two neared, and a long and awkward silence began that hovered between "Are you okay?" and "Ewww, what's wrong with that thing's head?"

I guess we ruined the fae-napper's day, giggled the dream demon sweetly. Edgar-doodle, give him a coin for trying so hard.

The kidnapper didn't seem to notice their approach. His face was mashed into bloody grain and cobblestones, and one of his rough fists pounded the road in shuddering strikes of pain and disappointment. There was even a faint whimpering that could be heard along the awe-struck street.

Then, the short ping of a single gold coin bouncing just past his dirty, matted hair.

With bloodshot eyes, the warrior looked up and slapped the dancing coin to the ground. Then he turned around harshly, but all he saw were two silouettes, hand-in-hand, disappearing down the street.

[Lasair Anubail]

The day seemed to turn to night all too quickly for the wandering duo. They’d wandered deeper into the houses of Radasanth trying to find the one place they wanted and the one place they didn’t seem capable of coming across. As the light was chased from the city, Lasair felt herself beginning to grow rather sluggish. The sky was all dark and there were lights coming through the windows on the houses they passed. They made her feel so sleepy and like all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere into a tiny little ball and fall asleep. But Edgar kept leading her forward. Did Edgar not get tired? Maybe he just had much more energy than she did. She supposed she could hold on a little longer then.

Yawning and rubbing at her eyes with her free hand, Lasair continued to follow Edgar through the streets. They were dark now, though lit by these cute little lanterns on high poles with flame within them. They cast a warm glow over the dirt streets and the fences and walls that surrounded the now much bigger homes. It seemed the farther they travelled, the bigger the homes and the property got. Maybe the families got bigger too, after all it would take a lot of people to fill some of these houses.

Lasair held on for as long as she could, which meant for the next few minutes. Then she started walking a lot slower and it seemed that Edgar was trying to pull her along more than anything else. Though he did quickly realize she was not entirely following him. Her little feet just barely stumbled and pushed forward, jerked into motion only each time he gave her a slight tug in his quest to continue.

“Edgar...” She mumbled in a small voice. Her next words cut off as her mouth opened up in another big yawn, one she quickly covered with her hand. “I’m tired.”

For a bit, Lasair was rather certain Edgar hadn’t heard her. The human, wooden thing just kept moving forward and dragging Lasair along with him. She stumbled and nearly fell once or twice, her small feet no longer able to keep up with him. She just wanted some sleep. After a few moments of tugging on her, Edgar finally stopped and turned around, much to Lasair’s relief.

“Scoop’d up, fiery-man.” He grumbled.

Confused, Lasair just looked up at Edgar as he suddenly, and creakily leaned down. She took a step back as his wooden and gooey arms wrapped around her and hefted her small frame up onto his wooden shoulder. She let out a small squeak as she shifted around on his shoulder, the wooden parts of him digging through the material and into her stomach. Being so tired though, Lasair eventually just gave up squirming around and relaxed against him as best she could. Somehow, within the next few minutes she actually managed to fall asleep, even with the constant bounce of Edgar walking.

[Twisted Infinitum]

The puppet trundled on down the street, the fae girl slung over his shoulder like a sack of produce for the dinner table. The night-lights lit his way pleasantly, so different from the dark streets of the night before. The buildings seemed large and jolly, not even batting a shutter at his passage. The people within probably were too busy filling their bellies or sleeping in comfy beds to notice his creaking, lopsided footsteps.

I knew you could do it, sweety! Calico trumpeted as she capered around the viewing bubble. You protected my darling little fae from the mean big city people!

Edgar continued on, apparently ignoring the praise. It had been streaming into his head since well before sundown and was now nothing more than white noise.

Hm.... the dream demon suddenly pondered. At the change in tone, Edgar came to a halt between the rows of plainly painted brick houses. Lasair made a cute little snort into his back, but continued sleeping.

I forget. I was distracted by the shiny-shiny wings. But, does little Lasair have abs of steel? A gummy finger poked the fae in the side. I guess not. Silly me. You should find a place to put her down before her tummy bits get all ground up on your shoulder.

Edgar nodded and stepped forward while shifting his eye from side to side. He couldn't see very far to the right, what with Lasair's flat backside in the way, but it seemed to matter little as there were more instructions incoming. A nice place... with flowers by the bed! Yes, it's always nice to wake up to flowers. And you too. You're nice to wake up to, like a half woody, half squishy daffodil.

"Squishy daffodil," Edgar muttered in agreement. Then, he saw them. They might not have been daffodils, or squishy, but they were flowers. Lots of flowers.

That's perfect! cheered his master as he bee-lined off the main street and down a side road that seemed to pass just over the city limits. A great view of night-lit forest replaced the warm embrace of lit homes, and situated in the very center of it was the biggest, warmest, brightest home of them all. And all around it were flowers, great stretches of them framed by fountains and ponds.

As quickly as he could without waking his passenger, Edgar marched toward the brightly colored sea. The blues and purples and reds were all kind of orange to him, sure, but something told him this was 'pretty', and it wasn't just the squealing in his head.

As gentle as an oaken midwife, the puppet set the fae down against a bed of blue, fat-petaled flowers. Her wings dusted them with sparkles that looked inviting in the torchlight. So, Edgar too lay down in the shimmering blue and stared at the sky, waiting for sunshine.

~

His mind wandered in a pleasant, wide-eyed nothingness until his wakeup call, which happened to be a sprinkle of water on his feet. With the creak of tired hinges, he looked down to see a servant at the edge of the flowerbed. Her watering can was forgotten in her slack arm, and her jaw was just as slack, though it clearly was trying to produce something other than astonished gurgles.

From on high, words came to ease the stress of introduction, but all that carried through the puppet's mouth was, "Pillow mints?"

Seeing that it could speak, the woman found her own words. "Can I help you?" she asked breathlessly, hands going to her dress, either to curtsy or run for the hills.

"Imperial?" Edgar grunted, causing the fae next to him to stir.

Mutely, the servant pointed to the badge on her breast, then to the grand building at the end of the garden.

With a flicker of red in the eye, the puppet screamed "Yay!" in a high voice that no doubt woke the fae, as well as all the members of Imperial. No matter, though. They would need to be awake, anyway, for the homecoming party.

[Sighter Tnailog]

Quest Judging
Sweet Dreams

This was a fairly good quest. I wrote part of this at a time when I was really busy and part at a time when I wasn't -- you should see the difference in the sort of sporadic commentary in different places. But all in all, I enjoyed this.

One brief note on whimsy. It can be delightful or dull. This thread came across as the former, but at times it threatened to become dull. See especially Setting for a specific example of how to avoid this trap. As for Lasair, she comes across as a child in some ways, but often in an entirely childish fashion. Sometimes children have a surprising way of being uncommonly and refreshingly wise. Try to find some space for Lasair to grow as a true child, and not as merely an innocent abroad.

STORY

Continuity ~ 7/10. Good work connecting the thrust of the story with real-world activities. But the "on a whim" nature of their decisions got to me after a while. Motivation might, in this case, have been because the characters are whimsical, and so I tried to take this into account while scoring.
Setting ~ 6/10. A quick comment needs to be made about off-world references, specifically for Edgar, but maybe for Lasair a little bit too. It makes sense on one level for Calico to be aware of things in a multiplicity of worlds and realities -- for instance, references to a four-by-four truck using "diesel, not very eco-friendly," with a sunroof. Because of her access to a wide variety of realities, this can be sensible. But sometimes, taking a real-world thing and then imposing it on Althanas can be problematic -- for instance, the reference to the "squire with his first issue of PlayWench." It seems a bit too jarring in this instance. Breaking the fourth wall is a time-honored tactic, used by comedic playwrights and certain fantasy authors to great affect (Terry Pratchett, in particular). BUT, it can be used in ways that are jarring. For instance...do we really believe there IS a magazine in Radasanth or anywhere in Althanas that is ACTUALLY called PlayWench? I mean, it's a humorous idea, sure, and part of style and everything else. But I doubt Corone's newspaper industry can even support anything near a "magazine" format for a periodical. So that, in some sense, forms part of what jars the reader's sense of location; introduction of elements that, while intended for humorous and stylistic effect, in some sense go TOO far and start degrading the reader's perception of setting and PLACE. But it sometimes works well -- in the makeover aside, the inclusion of the tag on the cloak that said, "River washable" was quite a nice touch. It very subtly references "Machine washable" tags on clothing, and in a way that lets the reader laugh at what you're doing without feeling as though a foreign element has invaded the integrity of the game world.
Pacing ~ 5/10. The ending was a little long and drawn out. I know there were some identifiable reasons for that, but still; it seemed to go on, and about halfway through the interesting nature of the opening sort of collapsed in on it self. The story fizzled when it might have popped.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 7/10. It showed the characters fairly well, but it might be a bit along the lines of your standard. So good marks for a good show, but no more than that.
Action ~ 6/10. I couldn't always figure out why Calico acted the way she did -- see my point below for one reason why -- and so sometimes the lack of appropriately exhibited justification created some problems.
Persona ~ 7/10. I will say, that part where TI was like, to paraphrase, "the Dream World hasn't to this day felt emotional force so strong," made me snort a little bit. Seriously? If you're gonna say something like that, back it up -- as it was, I don't know that a burst of affection for the cute little Lasair qualifies. Not to say it can't possibly qualify, just that the description given did not seem to back up the declaration.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 6/10. Well done. Nothing dazzling, but a solid performance deserves solid marks.
Mechanics ~ 7/10. Mostly good, but with some spelling and grammar errors here and there cause some problems. Also some clunkiness, ala TI's "Again, the decision of what to do lent itself to calling an exorcist." Nothing WRONG here, just feels a bit like an engine does when the transmission is about to give out. Maybe, "Again, it seemed they'd need an exorcist." It's shorter, sweeter, and while I'm still not quite satisfied, it doesn't sound quite so much as though the drive shaft is about to fall out. Don't give up on proofreading; it can take you places.
Clarity ~ 8/10. I could follow it and didn't get bogged down in the figuring stage. Sometimes, though, I had to reread TI's posts a few times to catch Calico's train of thought. Sometimes rereading is good when something is so wonderfully complex it merits a second reading, but sometimes it's bad when the original ideas were just confusingly presented. I think it was more of the latter here, so work a bit harder in this area.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 7/10. Looking through, there were a lot of 6s in the judging, but ultimately I think this was more of a 7 kind of quest with some elements of 6, so I'm Wild Carding it to a 7. Now, the total.

TOTAL ~ 66/100. A solid score for a solid thread.

EXP Rewards

Lasair Anubail gains 1700 EXP!
Twisted Infinitum gains 2500 EXP!
Tera gains 400 EXP!

GP Rewards

Lasair Anubail gains 560 GP!
Twisted Infinitum gains 560 GP!
Tera gains 50 GP!

[Sighter Tnailog]

EXP Added!

Twisted Infinitum levels up!

Gold Added!