A/N: I said I'd rewrite this fecking story, and I will. This is going to work. So if you're reading this for the first time, this will be no change. If you've been with me from the beginning…*heavy sigh* I think I'm doing things right this time. Let us pray. But beware that many things have been changed.

I own nothing, I take credit for nothing, 'cept the occasional little original character. I will list the songs I listen to if you really want me to, because my music is the source of my inspiration. And it's so much fun to relate songs to what's ticking upstairs. ^.^  I point you to Rowling.

~~~

Angelina pulled her quilt over her head; if there was a downside to the Aberdeen Quidditch Retreat, and it'd been difficult to find one, it had to be Rane's snoring. One would have thought that living with Katie Bell for a school year would have doused any annoyance towards snoring, but Rane proved otherwise. On the rare occasion, Rane would mutter between snores, sometimes intelligible words. Although however interesting Rane's sleep talk might usually be, it wasn't as interesting at three in the morning.

Within a few minutes, Angelina began to regret curling up to tightly in her bedspread. Freezing charms or no, it was hot. Snoring hindered Angelina's sleep; heat completely prevented it. She poked her toes out of the bottom of the quilt, idly wondering why the retreat insisted on having quilts all year 'round. Surely not many people came in the winter months. And a quilt in the summer was plain idiocy. At the beginning of the retreat, team captains claimed the cabins were kept cool enough that quilts were desirable, and if the freezing charms didn't work, the natural cold air from the sea would. Yet, despite being named the Aberdeen Quidditch Retreat, the camp was nearly fifty miles from the city, and thus Muggle threats. It was also fifty miles from any cool sea air. Quilts were beyond insane. Sighing heavily, Angelina poked her head out from the comforter. It hadn't done much to block out Rane's snoring, anyway.

Kicking the cover aside completely, she sat up and dangled her feet over the bedside. Right across from her was Rane's bed. Rane had spread herself over her quilt, a silk nightgown her only covering. Her curly red hair was tied back, but greatly needed to be brushed. She looked so peaceful; it was hard to believe that such a serene appearance could cause so much bloody noise.

Angelina slipped into a light shirt. She considered putting on slippers, but concluded they'd make too much noise outside. And besides, her feet were hot. She grabbed a brush from her bag on the floor and very quickly, not very neatly, brushed her black hair. It was pulled into a ponytail, much like Rane's, but it was much better at staying in place, even during sleep. Or during mock sleep. Angelina grimaced slightly at the stringy feel of her hair; she needed to shower. Today would be the boys' turn for the showers, but she and Rane had connections among that gender, and one of those connections was a team captain. A little pleading, a little bribery, or a little threatening would get her in to shower.

She stood, tucking her key into the pocket of her silk pajama pants. At this point, even silk was too much cover. She wished she'd done as Katie advised and brought boxers for pajamas. With key in pocket, and wand in hand, she tiptoed past Rane, then past five other occupied beds, and not all of them girls. Even in the dark she could make out the lithe form of Jory Shely and broad-shouldered Avery Merimonti. Leroy Winters, who Rane and Jory often called Lee, stirred when Angelina opened the door, and she was sure he opened his eyes, but he rolled over, pulling his quilt to cover himself. The movement exposed his right ankle, which was wrapped tightly in a bandage; he'd been idiot enough to fall victim to one of Jory's pranks and ended up twisting his ankle, or something. Angelina suspected he'd done more than just twist now, since it'd been more than a week since the trick and he still didn't walk on it much. However, he refused to listen to Angelina and Rane when they told him he should get it healed by the nurse, to prove to Jory that he was 'manly.' Angelina chuckled under her breath as she shut the door. She could easily see Jory and Leroy married one day, having very athletically gifted kids, and thickheaded sons.

The outside air was actually cooler than inside the cabin, but it was hardly comfortable. The only breeze was warm and it made Angelina more uncomfortable, if anything. She took a few steps before withdrawing her wand to light her way. Too much light would give her away, but she didn't need much; only enough to keep from stubbing her toes again. Carefully, she moved off the dirt path and onto the grass. Avery had caught her sneaking out, one night, and though exasperated at the rules she was breaking, he suggested that she at least walk on the grass so she wouldn't leave footprints. He was strict with rules, and even stricter with Quidditch. Angelina's rule-breaking could very well disqualify their team, and that was something Avery wouldn't put up with. He was their captain. A captain who needed to loosen up a wee bit, if Angelina could say anything about it. She, Rane, and Jory had managed to get him drunk one night, early in the summer, and he'd been fun enough then. At their dare, he'd stripped down to bare skin and flown around their rival's cabin, shouting gibberish. They had had to knock him out with one of Jory's bats and drag him to bed. No one volunteered to dress him, and so he woke up mid-afternoon the next day, naked, sick, and with a big blue and black lump on the side of his head. He hadn't been fun at all the following month.

Angelina doused her light at the sound of voices. She froze on her tiptoes, not daring to even finish her stride. There were always rule-breakers at the retreat. Her boyfriend, Levi Reyers, was one of them, and it was exactly he whom she was sneaking out to meet. But each rule-breaker had assigned themselves nights, as it were, to sneak out, and she and Levi arranged their own expeditions so they weren't at risk of being caught either by counselors or captains, or fellow night owls. Someone was off the clock tonight.

She glanced at her watch. Levi was meeting her near the showers in five minutes. She didn't have time to freeze at muffled voices. Except, now that she had started moving slowly, hiding her wand, she realized the voices weren't talking. They were short, breathless murmurs, and however indistinct the groans were, she was sure she recognized one of them. Since her third year at Hogwarts she'd had to wake up to that voice at ungodly hours, had to deal with that voice yelling at her nearly every evening when she should have been doing homework. It was a voice she'd grown accustomed to hearing, but not in the way she was hearing it now.

Wand tucked behind her back, ready for use if she was seen, she darted behind a tree, holding her breath. She intended to slip past unseen and leave the two people, for it was clear that it was two, to their rendezvous alone. However, as she peeked out to make sure they weren't facing her, she couldn't help but look for the face she connected with the voice. His back was to her, but recognize him she did. His short brown hair was a dull cut, if longer than it normally was, and not entirely distinguishable on its own; it was his shirt that gave him away. The girl with him and just begun to remove it when Angelina saw, and she covered her mouth to keep from laughing. It was common knowledge to never wear shirts that gave yourself away when you broke a rule, especially at night when you could possibly slip away as nothing more than a shadow. But, for whatever reason, Oliver Wood had ignored this. The shirt being torn from him was his team's T-shirt, with WOOD and KEEPER lettered neatly on the back.

Angelina scampered away quickly, more afraid that she'd laugh and they'd discover her than that she'd see something she wasn't supposed to. She wasn't ten steps away when she realized she should have gotten a look at the girl's face, so as to make for better blackmail, though she was sure the girl was only a summer fling. Oliver had his mind so focused on Quidditch that he barely even realized three of his team members were female, and thus changed in front of them many a time before they told him they'd appreciate it if he changed at least behind a towel or something. Since he could hardly even recognize the female half of the species, there was no way he'd be able to commit himself to a relationship, especially during the Quidditch season.

It was a few minutes before Angelina realized she'd not only stopped heading towards the showers but that she'd even retraced her steps to see who the girl was. She was shocked to see it was Nicole Folz, a Chaser on Oliver's team. Nicole wasn't exactly what Angelina would call pretty, and she had an annoying, high pitched voice that sounded more like a bug than a human. She wasn't very talented when it came to Quidditch, either. Angelina suspected she played only for the guys, because guys apparently liked athletic women, but Nicole didn't look like much besides snot. Why Oliver ended up half-naked with her at night was beyond reason.

Another glance at her watch told her she was two minutes late. Stifling a yelp of surprise, Angelina loped from the cabin to the showers, not taking the time to dart behind trees or cabins to keep out of sight or to light her wand. She was regretful of the latter; not ten steps from the shower wall, her foot hit a rock, and she had to reach out an arm to keep from falling completely.

 "You didn't wear slippers then, did you?"

Angelina smoothed stray locks of hair back from her face and turned around, smiling. It was dark, but even so she could easily recognize Levi. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her, softly, perfectly. Kissing Levi was magic again and again, something she knew she'd never tire of. "My feet were hot," she whispered when their lips parted.

He chuckled, pulled her to him, and hugged her firmly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Ready for tomorrow?"

 "Always ready," she muttered, ear against his chest. Just behind his steady heartbeat, she caught a growl from his stomach. "Don't they feed you here?"

 "You kidding?" he groaned. "They're starving us, kiddo."

She laughed into his chest, recalling a very full plate as his last meal, and after he'd cleared his own plate three or four times, he asked her if he could finish her untouched doughnut. "You ready for tomorrow?"

His hand ruffled her hair. "You are so going down, Johnson." He made to kiss the top of her head, but ended up kissing her eye when she tilted her head to look up at him. "Merimonti's got a helluva good team, but you're gonna need a godly team to bring this one down."

 "Not if you're thinking about food."

 "Who's thinking about food?" he asked, trying to and horribly failing at pretending to be taken aback. His grin slipped slightly when his stomach growled again.

Meeting his grey eyes, and nearly losing her tongue when she did, Angelina giggled, "It's a ruddy loud thing, ain't it?" She cocked her head to the side, eyes locked on his high cheekbones and rusty brown hair that needed washing as much as her own. It was hard not to look at his eyes; she'd melt in his arms if she did, she was sure of it. Smiling, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. It needed to be combed, too. "Isn't it a bit long?"

He brought one hand to his ear, about where his hair stopped. "You think it's too long?"

 "It's shaggy."

He smiled at her and winked. "Lucky for me you like shaggy guys, eh?"

She opened her mouth in protest. "When did I say that?" she demanded. "When?"

Without an answer, he bent and locked his lips with hers. Her heart skipped at not only the unexpected kiss but at how rough he managed to be without ever hurting her. She lost herself in him within moments, and if he hadn't needed to pull back for breath now and again, she surely would have forgotten to breathe.

~~~


The food was never particularly good at the retreat, but this year it managed to be better. Angelina realized she was voluntarily putting eggs in her mouth instead of forcing herself to out of plain hunger. It was the start of a bad day if breakfast was this good. She grimaced, trying to pretend the eggs were overcooked and the orange juice gone bad and the pancakes stale and burned.

Next to her, Levi was shoveling a helping of eggs twice the size of her own into his mouth, pouring ketchup with one hand and eating with the other. Her eyes widened; he'd always been a fast eater, at least for as long as she'd known him, but it was amazing he never got upset stomachs not only because of the amount of food he ate but because of the rapidity with which he ate it. In minutes he was spooning more eggs onto plate. Angelina poked his side lightly, wondering where all the food went; the kid was practically flesh and bone!

He flinched lightly at her touch. Swallowing his mouthful, he glanced over at her. "What was that for?"

 "You're such a widget," she mused, purposely taking a small bite, smaller than she usually took, and eating it with as much grace and delicacy as she could without laughing. After she swallowed, she dabbed her mouth with the corner of Levi's sleeve, made a quiet burp, and excused herself. "A skinny widget."

 "A hungry widget," he muttered, returning to his plate. He took a forkful of eggs, examined them, then poured on more ketchup than Angelina thought was necessary.

She shook her head in amusement before starting on her pancakes. Without turning her head, she glanced at him, and caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye. He smiled, a grin of eggs, and putting her fork down, she asked, "Have you tried the pancakes?"

 "The eggs bewitched me."

She laughed. "Magical eggs, eh?"

He swallowed another mouthful, took a moment to drink nearly half his glass of juice in one breath, then attacked the eggs again. Attack was exactly the word, Angelina decided. She leaned on her elbows, beginning to think that he hadn't heard her. A deep, bellowing voice interrupted her chance to ask him about his eggs again.

 "Bells, Katie!"

Angelina turned in her seat expectantly. Devin Pelquist, one of senior captains, was standing on one of the mess hall tables, an owl perched on his shoulder and a box at his feet. The owl, Hellweasel, had been at AQR for more years than Angelina cared to count. She'd heard that he once was the post owl, but for as long as she'd know him, he'd been retired. None of the staff had taken him home, though; he had become a part of AQR.

Katie Bell stood up and raised her hand. "Hellweasel!" The owl looked in her direction, then took the small bundle of envelopes from Devin's outstretched hand in his talons and spread his wings. He barely had to flap once to reach Katie. She caught him easily on the arm and stroked his head before retrieving her mail. Hellweasel returned to Devin's shoulder at a whistle.

 "Get my mail for me, will you, kiddo?" Levi asked from his third helping of eggs. He had the ketchup bottled upended again.

 "Aye," Angelina answered, watching as Devin read names off, oftentimes butchering them purposely and receiving banters about mispronunciations, banters that he expertly returned. He'd been a captain the previous year, but after graduating from his school, he went into training to become a senior captain. From there he could move up to instructor or referee; now, he performed the jobs most of the staff resented, such as mail delivery. He managed to make a joke about it.

 "Folz, Nicole!"

Angelina swiveled her head to catch a glimpse of the girl. Nicole's black hair was tied back in an uneven braid, clearly uncombed, and she looked tired, but nothing else gave away that she'd had a rather draining night. She kept glancing at Oliver, however, who sat only three seats away from Levi, even when she yelled in that high pitched voice of hers, "Hellweasel!"

Devin shook his head, black curls dancing about his head, then looked at Hellweasel. "Look at that, Weasy. She has the nerve to call your name but not look you in the face."

Nicole turned a bright shade of red and cleared her throat. Eyes locked squarely on Hellweasel, she called his name again. The owl complied this time, taking her one envelope from Devin's hand and flying it over to her. He didn't land on her extended arm, but instead dropped the letter on her plate, then returned to Devin's shoulder. She frowned, eyes dancing back to Oliver.

Oliver wasn't looking at her. He was staring at his plate, fork swirling eggs in circles around his pancakes. His juice was untouched. Shaking her head sympathetically, Angelina kissed Levi on the forehead, patted his shoulder, and stood. "I'll still get your mail, Leeve," she promised him. He nodded, not even looking up from his ketchup-drenched-eggs. The sight of those eggs was enough to make Angelina queasy.

The seat next to Oliver was taken, so Angelina took the roundabout way and sat down directly across from the captain. She leaned on her elbows and watched him for a while, then watched his food. He gave no sign that he knew she was there.

 "You're not going to eat?" she asked, taking his fork from him. She flinched when her fingers brushed his hand; she knew more about that hand, now, than she ever wanted to. Swallowing, trying to forget the images that quickly passed through her mind, she cut a slice of his pancakes for him. "The eggs taste real. And the pancakes aren't burned."

He chuckled softly, a chuckle she saw more than heard. Inhaling, he muttered, "I don't eat well before games."

Angelina closed her eyes and struggled to make her thoughts stop before they went too far. He was still the same Oliver, Nicole or no Nicole. He was watching her intently when her eyes opened; she tried not to flinch again.

 "I know you saw us," he said softly, reaching to take his fork back.

She choked, and she wasn't sure on what. Shaking her head, she started to say "What do you mean?" but his hand grabbed hers and she fell into silence. Carefully, he pried his fork from her grasp, and it wasn't until he was back to stirring his eggs around his plate that she realized she'd been clutching the utensil. Her knuckles were still white.

 "Nothing happened," he muttered, picking up a small forkful of eggs.

Angelina held in a scoff; she knew nothing when she saw nothing, and Nicole was doing something.

 "It was a one-nighter," he continued softly, staring at his eggs. "And she was more on the giving end than the…" He swallowed. "…the receiving." A heavy breath escaped him and he slowly brought his fork to his mouth. His bite was hesitant, like he wasn't sure what Angelina had said about the eggs being real was true. He chewed slowly, swallowed, then said, "Nothing happened." By this time, his face was a dark shade of red.

Angelina stopped watching him, and instead started watching Devin. Her name was going to be called soon; Phil Lingud, the Seeker for Levi and Oliver's team, was getting his mail. It was while she was watching Hellweasel fly in circles around Phil's head that she realized what Oliver meant by 'nothing happened.' She breathed a small breath of relief, then started when she realized she was relieved Oliver and Nicole hadn't gone too far. Maybe she should have stayed with Levi and not bothered with trying to get Oliver to eat.

She hadn't been let down; Oliver was eating now, if slowly, and as if the food was poisoned. She could be sure he wouldn't faint on the pitch and that she would be playing against a Keeper worthy of her determination. There little else that she hated more than incapable Keepers, and Oliver was very capable. On a full stomach. She had no reason to stay by him, save, maybe, her curiosity. "How did you know it was me?" she asked after a moment's silence.

He sighed heavily, putting his fork on his plate. Leaning forward on his elbows, in a fashion similar to hers, he said, "Katie told me, with a very detailed account that came, she claimed, from your mouth."

It was Angelina's turn to turn red. She remembered telling Katie on the way to breakfast that she had "goodies" to use against Oliver over the course of the next year, and Katie, being Katie, wanted to know then and there what Angelina's goodies were. Angelina only said that Oliver and Nicole had spent a rather interesting night together. There were no details. "I only saw your shirt and her face," she stammered. "Honest to Merlin, I saw practically nothing."

Oliver laughed softly, the corners of his mouth curving upwards in a smirk. "Why, might I ask, were you out after hours?" He didn't wait for her to blink, much less formulate an answer. "I have a pretty good guess why, and I figure it's only fair. But we're even now. No blackmail this year."

Angelina tried not to roll her eyes, and instead made herself look as innocent as possible. "What are you talking about?" she asked through a too-cheesy smile. He knew her too well.

He laughed again, not so softly, but not loudly either. The smile she'd seen slowly emerging on his face had fully appeared, and there was a moment when her heart hit her ribcage a little too hard. Oliver had a hard time making anything look bad, and he had the same intent depths to his eyes that Levi had. She inhaled sharply to stop her fluttering heart; it was no secret that Oliver had a little crush on her, and it irked Levi to an insane degree, but she had almost never looked at him that way. Her heart was devoted to Levi, she knew it, but somehow Oliver's smile…

 "Why Nicole?" she asked at last, trying to draw her attention away from…him.

He sighed. "She was a set-up. Glen Davis has this fool notion that I need to get knocked-"

Angelina held her hands up in front of her face to stop him. "You're bringing back bad pictures, Wood."

 "Johnson, Angelina!"

Her eyes widened when she heard her name. Then, motioning for Oliver to wait a moment, she stood and raised her hand. "Oy! Devin!"

Devin had his back to her, and he turned slowly, lettered held tightly in his hand. When he spotted her, he told her matter-of-factually, "I'm not the owl, Johnson. You're supposed to say the owl's name."

 "Could you give me the mail for Reyers, Levi?" she asked, ignoring his remark.

Devin's shoulders sagged, as if he was tired of carrying a heavy weight. "Angelina, they're in alphabetical order. I'd have to-" He caught sight of Angelina with her hands on her hips, and sighing, he rooted through the back he had slung over his shoulder. He pulled out a small bundle of letters. "Okay. Now say the owl's name."

 "Hellweasel!"

Hellweasel took all the letters Devin held in his hand, as well as a rolled up newspaper, and glided towards Angelina. He had to drop the mail on the table, in Oliver's food, before he could land on her arm. She gave him a small kiss on the head, then pointed at Levi, who was buried in his plate of pancakes which, she was relieved to see, was not soaked with ketchup. The owl flapped his wings once to reach Levi, then landed on Levi's shoulder and grabbed his hair.

 "Love you, Leeve!" Angelina shouted, and she sat down quickly before Levi could look up and see her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him smiling in her direction.

 "You have to get his mail for him?" Oliver asked when she started glancing through the small pile of letters. "What are you, his mother?"

Angelina shook her head slightly, pretending to ignore that comment. Not only did Oliver's feelings for her put him in an uneasy affiliation with Levi, the two of them were rivals when it came to Quidditch. Oliver, a year younger than Levi, was the Gryffindor team captain, as well as captain of his team at AQR. Levi was very talented when it came to Quidditch, and he had expected to be captain. Instead, he was bested by a younger man, a younger man who also happened to be crushing on his girlfriend. The ice beneath the two of them was thin and always growing thinner.

 "He asked me to get his mail," she answered. "His eggs bewitched him."

Oliver scoffed. "Eggs my ass," he muttered softly, not intending for Angelina to hear. She heard, clearly, but she gave no sign. Oliver, talented as he was, needed to grow up.

The pile of mail was mostly filled with personal letters. Her brother sent her a rather thick envelope with a "sorry I'm late" note was scribbled on the back. There was a letter from a close friend at Hogwarts, Moira Allens. The envelope was covered with stickers she'd collected from the Muggle world. Moira, whose parents were both Muggles, was very fond of stickers, and she spared no expense in sharing them. The rolled up newspaper was from Angelina's mother, and already Angelina could see scrawlings in red ink about the pages; Angelina and her mother made fun of the articles when Angelina was younger, and now her mother sent her the Daily Prophet with her own comments written in red ink in the margins. And, of course, there was surely a loving letter wrapped up in the middle.

Levi's mail was a bit more extensive, seeing as he was already receiving letters from professional Quidditch teams. He would be starting his seventh year at Hogwarts, and Quidditch teams had begun to watch him closely. There was a letter from Moira in the pile as well, which didn't surprise Angelina in the slightest. Moira kept in touch with anybody and everybody she ever met. There was a letter from his mother, Darlene, and another from his sister Teri, who Angelina knew to be pregnant.

 "What teams mailed him?" Oliver asked, nodding his head towards Levi's pile of letters.

Flipping through the letters, Angelina read off the team names. "The Falcons, the Tornados, Portree, and Puddlemere."

Oliver nodded slowly. Angelina sighed exasperatedly; Oliver was also receiving letters, despite his being a sixth year. He and Levi were always comparing the teams that mailed them, and though Levi had more teams after him, Oliver was repeatedly receiving letters from the Montrose Magpies, the most successful team in history. What Angelina didn't understand was why they had to compare. Boys were too complicated.

She elbowed the kid next to her, a kid she didn't know, and asked him to pass Levi's stack of letters down. The mail went through three or four pairs of hands before it finally reached Levi. Angelina was glad to see that he'd stopped with the pancakes and was now only draining his glass of orange juice. All that food and just that one glass of juice. He took the letters, eyes meeting Angelina's, and he flashed her a smile before flipping through the envelopes.

 "The eggs are a little tough," Oliver muttered, drawing Angelina's attention from her boyfriend. "But they don't taste like rubber."

 "See? Now are you going to eat them? All of them?"

Oliver paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "You keep this up and I might actually thing you're starting to worry about me."

Angelina opened her mouth to protest, but she had no protest. Oliver had skipped out on breakfast before games before, Merlin only knows how often, and he'd never proved to be incapable then; that excuse was out the door. She could feel herself turning a deep red, for the second time, and he'd only blushed once during their conversation. Only once. It wasn't bloody fair. She worked her tongue, avoiding his eyes while she tried to think, and she caught Levi staring at one of his letters. One hand had his hair in a firm grip, on the verge of ripping it out, and his breath…even from her distance, Angelina could see he wasn't breathing normally. The hand that held the letter was shaking. "Oh Merlin," she whispered, and she stood quickly, ignoring Oliver when he asked where she was going.

She wasn't halfway to Levi when he crumpled the letter in one hand and threw it as far as he could across the room. It didn't go far. He watched it, as if staring at it would set it aflame, and before Angelina could reach him, he was on his feet and stalking out the door. Rane stood as Angelina passed and touched her shoulder, and both Leroy and Jory made as if to follow Levi. Angelina shook her head to make them sit down, but she didn't see if they did.

The door was open, allowing a fresh breeze into the mess hall. Angelina all but ran through it, squinting when the sunlight met her eyes. She saw Levi's form disappear around the corner of the mess hall, and shading her eyes, she sprinted after him. By the time she rounded the corner, however, he was nowhere in sight.

 "Angelina!" Oliver's voice echoed behind her, distant. He stopped at her side, watching her. He wasn't worried about Levi, and for that, Angelina wanted to hit him. Lord, how she wanted to hit him.

A strong hand touched her shoulder, a hand that wasn't Oliver's, and she turned slowly, eyes searching for Levi. He couldn't have gone far, not at a walk. Not far. It was impossible. Instead of Levi, as she was hoping for, Leroy's face met her. "Where is he?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, eyes blurring with tears. Levi had just disappeared. He was nowhere, nowhere in sight. He'd bloody disappeared!

Leroy's arms went around her. He held her firmly, patting her head, telling her they'd find Levi. There was no way he could have gone far. He'd probably only gone to his cabin, or something. But they'd find him. They'd find him.

They'd find him.

~~~

Well, I went ahead and did it. I deleted the old version of The Calling and I put up this one. Hopefully this will be a smoother ride than the other was. .o I saved reviews that helped me, though, and many, many thanks for those.

Oh, and since it's my big thing right now, I'm going to be experimenting with characterization. There are a lot of original characters in here, I now, but I'm really going to have fun with Oliver. I know this wasn't a very Oliver-oriented chapter, but trust me, there will be some in the very near future. I'm also shooting for chapters about this length. We'll see how that goes.

Much luv!

~'Roci