Note for new lurkers:

This is a sequel. Check out "Strange Things Happen in Libraries with Dr. Pepper" so that you don't get lost. Hehe.

Dear Reviewers:

(cracks knuckles) Hoo, boy, it feels good to be back. I will warn you all, I actually haven't seen the movie yet. I heard it is very good but departs from the book a lot. I will be seeing it the day after Christmas, though; I'll use it for a bit of dialogue reference most likely, but other than that, I will be trying to stay closer to the book.

I will post a review of Dawn Treader on my tumblr account:

http : / / papayapie (dot) tumblr (dot) com /

as soon as I see it, then I'll post the link here :)

Actually, please go to the above link (take out the dots and the spaces, doesn't allow link-posting) if you'd like to see pictures posted of my artwork, original works, and things that inspire me in general. Also random thoughts. Haha.

Love,

Pippin

PS: Personal replies to questions and comments are at the end of the chapter :)

PPS: (DUDE. Did you know that PS stands for "post-script"? Like, post=after, script=what I wrote. Like, post production. Or post storm. Post. Script. So cool. So, two Ps is post post script. Yeah. Anywho.

PPPS: I've been watching the tv show LOST for the last month, and I thought I'd borrow a little structure technique: by working in flashbacks from Pippin's "real life"—er, mine, actually—to better describe the changes in the 3 years between Dr. Pepper and this story. Rather than have a giant prologue, I can sprinkle in bits of reality for further character development. Thoughts? I won't do it if no one would like it :)

Special Authors Note too Important for a fourth PPPPS:

Drinian, the captain of the Dawn Treader, gives a rousing account of their sea adventures (Chapter 2, "On Board the Dawn Treader"; page 17-18 in my copy) before Edmund and Lucy and Eustace show up. Since Pippin is landing earlier in the timeline than the Pevensies, I urge you to reread that passage: unless you want the adventures to be a surprise. I will tell you, several things that follow: tournaments, pirates, days at sea; those are all credited to Lewis's summary as told by Captain Drinian, and not my own doing. Though the dialogue and specific happenstances shall be detailed due to my creative license :P

…

…

STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN

…

…

Chapter two,

In Forests and Beaches with Nobody Else

The suspension, in an empty circle of nothing, lasted until I thought for sure I had been forgotten entirely. I could feel something catch the back of my black tank top, as if someone was hanging me on a wall-hook to let me dry. It was darkness completely, until I spotted little will o' wisps of moonlit clouds above me, close enough to touch. They were ascending upwards—or was it me going downwards?

The clouds rose till they found a resting place, high above the rustles of treetops. I was hanging, caught on a tree branch. My elbows rested on two forks of a single split branch, cradling any sort of fall that I may have suffered. I gazed at the ground, a mere eight feet or so below, dappled in moonlight and peppermint color. There were many other trees in this clearing—a small hollow of grass, tiny bunches of small trees. Between the two, there was a hushed rhythm of ocean waves, gently eroding a beach that glittered like illustrations of the Archenland desert.

I had been smart and wore strapless, black flats, with the deceiving appearance of high-heels. I'd chosen to forget the real thing, embarrassed that'd I'd spent most of the day fearing for a sprain more than anything else. Otherwise—I shuddered to think how I'd drop gently to the ground, from a tree branch, without breaking something vital to my walking ability. My purse strap was wound about my ankle—a safety precaution I always take when I go on a ride. I always fear the purse flying from my grasping fingers and into the waiting crowds below.

"Where is a tall friend when I need one?" I muttered, pulling my elbows to my sides and sliding between the forked branches, dropping with a small shriek to the ground. I landed on my feet, pitched forward, landed on my hands and knees, and nearly got a mouthful of dirt if the momentum hadn't been slow enough. Sitting up, grinning with my ability to not meet certain death with the latest stunt, I brushed the dirt from my palms and my knees. I untangled the canvas, art-bag purse from around my leg and threw it over my shoulder.

Standing, smiling ruefully at my denim shorts and wishing I had something more modest by Narnian standards, I pulled a twig out of my hair and crept over to the space between the trees.

"Hello ocean," I greeted under my breath. "Long time no see!" Stepping through the trees, I stumbled down the knoll and into sharper sea grass. After several yards of gravel and tall grass that shimmered like a second ocean, I came upon the wide stretch of white sand.

In the distance was Cair Paravel—restored—or, almost restored. I could see that a lot of deforestation had occurred in order to make it visible from the land and sea again. Where the river had turned the peninsula into an island, a stone bridge was halfway built across it. A ferry was docked at one side, probably to aid the masons.

The castle itself was being rebuilt over the ruins—towers were shaped differently, and large canvas shipping sails were nailed down over the openings in the roof that were not finished yet. It was being built down farther, as it had been in the olden days, so that there might be a patio with doors open to the crashing waves, and a flooding room where mermaids could come in and make their requests to the king in person. At least, that's what I imagined the lower foundation was for. In fact, I bet it looked like an entirely different castle than in the Pevensie's early days, I'm sure. It's a new era.

I took off my shoes and meandered, barefoot, through the sand. I let the grit get between my toes, wiggling them for good measure, then skipped over to the waves and dipped a foot tentatively into the surf. Howling with the cold temperature, I was off like a shot in the other direction, panicking when the surf, at first, followed me with icy foam.

Panting, I smirked, and chased the wave as it receded, stomped in the shallow tide, and then shrieked and ran back again.

It wasn't until my feet were freezing that I realized how softly warm the air was. Walden needs to take note of how to do summer right, I thought laughingly. This temperature was charm, it was bliss; it was a gentle hug perfumed by the Lion's Mane itself. It was almost as if the music of the crickets in the trees were beating the weather into submission, bidding it to sway with gentle breezes and fine, clear nights.

"Hoy!" cried a man's voice. "Who goes there?"

My brain sought a line from the Ghost king in Hamlet but came up empty. Drat.

"Indentify yourself, stranger! What brings you to the shores of the Great Cair Paravel during the last leg of its construction?"

"Hello!" I called into the light blue darkness. The moonlight was so strong that it cast great shadows, and left the tree line much too dark to see the speaker. "My name is Pippin, I am an old—acquaintance—of King Caspian the… tenth?" my memory failed for the correct number. Staying accurate to our playful, (yet mildly shallow,) relationship kept me from saying the word friends.

"We fought in the last war, against the Telmarines, together. I've come again for a visit!" I shouted, awkwardly drilling my right foot into the sand till it was buried. I had nothing else to do with it, after all. And my toes were still cold. I followed suit with my left foot soon after.

"Well show us yours hands, lass!"

I dropped my shoes to the ground, sticking my wet feet in them with a grimace. I stuck my palms upward, my purse still hanging around my shoulder, muttering the Green Goblin's catch phrase I SURRENDER! under my breath.

"And walk right this way! See the lights?"

There were a few bobbing lanterns down at the embankment of the river that cut into the land, where the half-finished bridge lay waiting with a few torches hung on its edges. The ferry wobbled on the rivers current, pulling taut at the ropes holding it steady.

I could see the vague shadow of those that spoke, two guards in royal livery and carrying crossbows, emerging out of the trees and walking to the waters edge.

"You can put your hands down, now," one of the guards chuckled. "Formalities, really."

"What did you say your name was again?" asked the second.

"Pippin. I don't suppose we'd ever met," I entered the circle of torchlight and stuck out my hand. They shook it, unsure. I suppose there was a time they once didn't have hand-shaking in Narnia. "I helped Caspian a while ago. I was around during the war, against Miraz the… usurper… am I pronouncing that right?"

They both shrugged. "I'm sure you're a nice lass," said the first, "But we can't be too sure until the King can confirm your acquaintance. Will you step down here, please?" he held out a hand and helped me down onto the small ferry, which was more of a raft than anything else. The second guard stayed on the shore, and hit a small lever, which caused a chain to begin unraveling and letting the ferry drift for the opposite shore, which was only eighty feet or so away.

The guard handed me a small blanket. "There, that will make you more presentable. Now can you tell what happened to your clothes? You were not attacked on your way to the castle, were you?" What do you MEAN, what happened? I'm WEARING clothes! And plenty of them by Walden standards!

"Uuuuh," I said ungracefully. "Well—where I come from—which isn't quite north, but almost. Northwest. I think. I did get a bit lost, but I was never attacked. But our fashion is certainly less polite than here. During the summer we don't… wear much." This tank top has wide straps, doesn't show any midriff, and these shorts are definitely not Daisy Dukes. But now, I feel like a floozy!

"Uh—I appreciate the blanket though. I'm sure you won't think me improper, will you?"

The guard shrugged. "Cultures are different. Mermaids and naiads hardly—" he coughed, embarrassed. "Cultures are different."

"Thanks. Maybe if there are some… maids… I could borrow a plain dress, perhaps, couldn't I?"

"You do not seem to have any luggage… I suppose that can be arranged. How is it that you traveled her for a visit without any luggage?"

"I have my pu—bag. This bag. It's all I have right now. I packed too lightly, I think. I didn't expect to get lost. In fact, I didn't except to come for the visit at all. It's a long story. I'll explain to the King—really, I will."

"May I check your bag, please?"

"Yes," I handed it over to him. He opened it, held it near the lantern light, and looked inside. His eyebrows furrowed. "What are all those—colored sticks?"

"Pencils. I'm an artist. I don't go anywhere without them. And that little box thing is called a cell-phone. It's a device that won't work right now, I'm sure." He held up another item. "Uh—that'd be makeup." I suddenly felt embarrassed for its presence there. He held up a few more things. "Waterbottle, ipod. Gum."

"Ipod? Gum?"

"A little teeny tiny musical instrument. And… a candy that you just chew and chew. Like taffy. You guys have taffy around here, don't you?"

"The badgers make toffee…"

"Close enough."

He handed my purse back to me. "It's the safety precautions we take, you know. We don't want someone to slip in to see the King with a weapon. I hope you do not think this was an invasion of privacy meant to offend."

"Hardly. Rules are rules."

With a jolt, the ferry suddenly bumped shallow ground and the chain stopped drawing us in. A guard on the other side, who had been controlling the chain, waved at us and offered me a hand to help me out. I tripped as I disembarked and nearly fell to my knees in the shallow water. My jeans and shoes were hating me right now—there is nothing worse than walking around in wet clothes.

The guard led me up the shore, and the ferryman sent the raft back to the other side. We clambered up to the half-finished flagstone square, connecting the first step into the bridge and the tall double-doors of Cair Paravel. I ooh'd and awe'd as he walked—I squeaked—across the unwalled entry.

The guard rapped thrice against the door.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eight o' clock or so," he answered.

"Then it is not too late for his Majesty?"

"Not at all."

Time hadn't changed too much, I'd lost only two hours, give or take a few minutes. It didn't grow fully dark until aboutt ten in Walden, so the fireworks wouldn't have started unless it were near that time.

The great doors swung wide into the first hall; very marble and elegant in its first stages of being. There were a few fawns moving busily about, on tall ladders, hanging scarlet curtains in the corners. A few human maids were scurrying back and forth, carrying potted plants and the like. It seemed busy, but quietly so. The opportunity to be in Cair Paravel before it was finished seemed like a privilege that I did not expect.

"Tell his Highness that I bring a visitor from the Northwest, and ask if he shall see her right away," said my guard. He spoke to a fair-haired faun, who clicked his heels and hustled off to the right archway.

Before us was a great staircase, wide and curving, that nearly encircled the entire end of the room before curving to the left, and shifting up, to the floor above our heads. A dwarf sat on the lowest stair, nailing the rug with precision to keep his Royal Backside from having something hard to land on (were he ever to slip and fall).

I let out a snicker, and the guard looked at me with quizzical lifted eyebrows. I acted as if I did not see them.

Suddenly, there was a familiar face.

"Trumpkin!" I shrieked suddenly. "HEY!"

Trumpkin came out of the right archway, waddled across the entry, and went through the left archway. He was walking alongside another manservant, whom he was speaking in low tones to.

"Trumpkin!" I repeated.

He waved a hand in my direction absently, saying lightly, "The interviews MUST wait for the morning!" and continued on without a glance.

The guard looked at me questioningly. "Why did you bother the Regent?"

"He's an old friend, I knew him, back then. But he did not see me."

"The King is launching Narnia's first ship in a thousand years. All of Narnia is bursting with questions as to the nature of the voyage, he may have just mistaken you for a nosy journalist."

I frowned. "Voyage, hm? Trumpkin must be very busy, I suppose."

"Certainly. He's in charge of the kingdom while the King is absent."

Finally, the fair-haired faun returned with a polite bow. "His Majesty will grant an audience with the visitor, but cannot tarry too long. He has many things to do."

"Understood," said the guard, with a nod in my direction. "Take her to him, then. I must return to my post."

The faun waved him away cheerfully, and set off briskly. I trotted to keep up with him. "Where are your clothes?" he asked.

I sighed. "Under the blanket, Mister. I wasn't dressed appropriately for an audience with the King."

"Would you like to change before you see him?"

"I've got nothing to change into."

"Ah," the faun led me beneath the arch. "Were they stolen?"

"No, they were not," I said stiffly, not offering any more explanation.

We were now in a great dining hall; tall, chandeliered, tapestries on all four walls, and a table so long that it ran the length of the room. The floor was tiled in brown stones, more textured and warm than the marble of the entry. In the wall at the far end was a second pair of tall doors.

"Those doors are very ornate," I commented, narrowing my eyes at the thick, mahogany woodcarvings. Dwarf figures, dancing fauns, scrollwork, and letters I could not read were swirling about the edges of the door in three-dimensional craftsmanship.

"This is the entrance to the throne room," said the faun. "Now tell me your name so that I may introduce you?"

"Lady Pippin—er, Miss Pippin. I'm not that important."

The faun laughed and pushed open the heavy, creaking door.

"King Caspian the Tenth, Lord of Narnia and Emperor of the Lone Islands!" he announced. "May I present Miss Pippin, a visitor to his Majesty!"

Caspian sat at the end of the throne room in a modest, gold-plated, throne. Great red swags of curtain hung on either side, and behind him was a stained-glass window with the figure of Aslan in the mosaic. The broad walls on either side were painted with Michelangelo-style murals of Narnia's rich history, and before them, a few rows of seats for the courtiers and visitors. A single thin, red strip of carpet ran from our feet to the foot of Caspian's dais.

Caspian, dark-haired and now bearded, looked up and squinted his eyes across the long room. "Miss Pippin? Pippin who?"

"Just Pippin," I called back, waving tentatively. I began the long trek across the room. "I don't suppose you remember me? Uh, the battle to reclaim the throne from Miraz. I was with the Pevensies."

"The High King and Queens' gardener?" cried Caspian in astonishment.

I giggled, recalling a well-placed Lord of the Rings quote that had forever established me as the professional bush-groomer.

…

"Well, if you are the Kings and Queens of old, then who is this?"

"Their bodyguard?" said Trumpkin questionably, looking to me, since I had told him that on the beach.

"Their gardener," I corrected, acting offended. I was quoting Sam in the Two-Towers simply because I could. As the Pevensies were used to my antics by now, the change in occupation did not faze them one bit.

…

"You remembered!" I said, almost halfway through the room now.

"Yes, but—is that really you?" he suddenly looked doubtful and squinted at me.

I finally approached the bottom step and gave a crooked bow, mostly just a bend

at the waist, half-curtsy, and a partial flourish that didn't appear anything but comical. "Uh, yes. I've been gone awhile."

"It's been three years," Caspian stepped down from his thrown and offered me his hand. "How curious you should come again at this time!"

I shook his hand firmly. "I hear you are preparing for a voyage?" I knew what it was, but I wanted to make conversation and assume nothing.

"Yes, yes, here, join me," Caspian motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. He pulled a small bundle of wood strips, which unfolded like a canvas directors chair, from behind the throne and set it down. "Do sit down."

I sat gratefully, and he sat on his throne. "We are embarking on a great journey," he said excitedly. "You see, we've made a ship—a grand ship—the Dawn Treader. She's magnificent. Wait till you see her."

"Not to impose, but I was wondering if I could stay here for a little while," I said meekly. "I kind of—well, you know how it works, don't you? I was magically drawn from the Pevensies world, without any sort of shelter or clothes or food…"

"You mustn't even ask, of course, luckily for yourself the guest quarters were just finished. We expect many comings and goings in the next few days. We launch in two."

"How exciting," I said politely.

I want to go I want to go I want to go I want to go—

"You look so different," Caspian said, with an unsure smile. "You must be—nineteen, now, yes?"

"Twenty. It's been a long three years. I have a summer birthday, so the age-change is a little wonky."

"Considering you didn't run in screaming," said Caspian, "and find yourself face-to-face with the floor, I'd say those three years have treated you well."

I opened my mouth to fire back, but refrained. Instead, I replied crisply, "Why yes, your Majesty, very well indeed." I fought a smile.

Caspian was grinning. "I'm sorry, a joke at your expense. Forgive me. It will be like old times—in fact—better! Narnia is at peace, and it is a time of discovery and prosperity."

"Discovering new hobbies—like ocean travel," I added.

"The giants pay tribute to us now, we beat them in battle a while back," bragged Caspian. "You've come at a lovely time. Perfectly lovely."

"Your accent is different."

"You'd be surprised how quickly the accent of Telmar fades when all of Narnia speaks without rolling ones tongue at every R and drawing the vowels out."

"You sound British."

"What is that?"

"The four Monarchs were British originally."

"Oh I see!" Caspian folded his hands together with interest. "So tell me—what brings you here?"

"I wish I knew," I replied. "Someone from my world only comes when Narnia needs aid. Narnia doesn't really need my help—well, to be honest, Narnia never needed my help; I needed Narnia—I can't help but feel that perhaps I'm supposed to…" I paused and savored the right word. "Uh—participate?"

"Participate in what?"

I peeked at him through one eye. "The voyage?" I squeaked apologetically.

"Oh!" Caspian did sound surprised. "Really!"

"Maybe. Aslan doesn't exactly leave instructions."

"Let me think about it," Caspian put a hand to his scruffy chin and thought for a moment. "It's a fine idea. I just—I don't think we're prepared—for having a lady on board."

"Since when have I ever acted like a lady?"

"Since now," returned Caspian. "You've been very polite. It's disconcerting."

"How is it…" I stopped. "No, no, you're right."

Caspian lapsed into silence, looking at the painted walls but not seeing them.

"If it's trouble," I said hastily, "I don't want to be a bother. Really. But I wonder—why would Aslan send me here, at all, if I wasn't meant to go along? It's a thought, anyway. To be perfectly honest with you, I just really really really want to go, and I hope that's why I'm here."

"There's a bit of the Pippin I know," chuckled Caspian. He sobered. "You know it's always likely you are meant to stay behind, and be near Narnia, in case something should go wrong while I am away."

"You mean, like, help Trumpkin here?"

"Perhaps. We cannot know for certain. Though I think Trumpkin is capable without your help."

"I agree," I said emphatically.

Caspian stood up. "Let me discuss it with the Captain of the ship, and the heads of the crew. I doubt they would say no, but I am not about to make a decision that concerns all of them without their input."

"I think that is a wise choice!" I concurred.

Caspian crossed his arms over his chest. "Pippin," he said slowly.

"Yes, sir—your majesty?"

"I am curious," Caspian looked at me with a look I couldn't identify. It almost looked suspicious. "How is it that you have not asked me where our voyage is heading, or what it is for? Yet you clearly have the desire to join us?"

Oh, snickerdoodles.

"Why wouldn't I desire to join you for the Dawn Treaders' launch?"

"You are avoiding the question."

"You're a clever one, you are."

"Go on, Pippin. Answer the question. The truth, now."

"Because I already know why you're going?" I offered in the voice of a mouse.

"How?"

"A book."

"What book?"

"A book in the Pevensies world."

Caspian nodded, and mulled over my answers. "So you know about the Seven Lords, and Reepicheep's grand dream of Aslan's country."

"I do. But not in a creepy way. Just—it's what I do. Is that okay?"

"Then you know there is risk involve, you are not blinded to promises of adventure," Caspian assured.

"Yes, of course! It could be dangerous. I don't even like the ocean all that much. But I think it's where I am supposed to be."

"Beyond the eastern edge of the world is uncharted, open sea," said Caspian warningly.

"You are not trying to make me promise I won't get scared, are you?" I said indignantly. "Because I will swear no such thing!"

"No, I wouldn't make you promise that, but I think your bravery is not what is at question here," Caspian said kindly.

"I will get scared, scared as a cat," I interjected.

"But your safety would be in jeopardy, and I would not willingly place a woman in that situation unless she knew full-well what she was getting herself into."

He regarded me silently, and I felt that I had nothing to say.

Awkward pauses. I. LOVE. THEM.

"Aren't you going to plead your case?" he finally asked, laughing.

"I already did."

"You mean you won't sing something? Launch into a speech in frightening slang from your own world that I do not understand?"

I bit my lip, sorting through my mind to find something.

"I will wait for the opportune moment," I said slyly.

"Good move," Caspian nodded, smiled, and looked to the ornate doors at the end of the room. "Kep!

The doors swung open again, and the fair-haired faun stood at attention.

"Kep, if you wouldn't mind, could you show Miss Pippin to a guest room? And see to it that she has—well, fresh clothes." Caspian peered down at me. "Were you robbed?"

I gritted my teeth together, self-consciously pulling the small blanket closer around my tank-top and shorts. "No. But thanks for asking."

"Fresh clothes," repeated Caspian. "She will be staying with us for a time. And after she is delivered safely, please ask Drinian and the Treader's crew to meet me here, in the throne room."

"Yes of course, your Highness!" Kep bowed.

Caspian tugged my arm, and waved me from his side. "I will discuss your request with the crew. I think you shall have it your way, but do not raise your hopes—just in case."

"Thank-you, Casp—your Highness. I appreciate it. Have a lovely evening," I inclined my head in a half-bow, and proceeded to trot awkwardly back down the red rug to the other side where Kep was waiting. My soaked shoes squeaked like baby mice all the way down.

"Pippin," Caspian called after me quickly. "If you are hungry, ask for anything. Anything at all. And please dine with me in the morning, at eight o' clock sharp, if you've a mind to."

"Invitation accepted," I turned and called back. "Thank-you!" I began to follow Kep again.

"Oh, and Pippin!" Caspian called out again.

Trying not to let my eyes look frustrated, I turned again, and walked backwards. "Yes?"

"Welcome back to Narnia," Caspian clasped his hands behind his back, looking

genuinely pleased. "It's good to see you."

I blinked, baring a giant smile, trying to keep a sudden emotion from gathering in the corners of my eyes.

"You don't know how I've longed to be back here," I said quietly enough, but the words reverberated against the high-vaulted ceiling, echoing long after Kep shut the doors behind us with a resounding thud.

...

...

Dear Reviewers, again,

Holy snickers and pie crusts, that's a nine-page single-spaced chapter there. That's twice as long as the essays I wrote EVERY week for my college courses. Yipes. And now, as promised, here are my personal replies to queries. Be sure to check out my tumblr site!

Love, Pippin

Harley of Narnia: I do hope I continue to fulfill your expectations but keep you surprised as well!

Skywalker05: It's good to hear from you again! I loved your criticism for my last story, so please feel free to point out grammatical errors I may have missed. But I am very glad you loved the chapter. Welcome back!

Pureangel86: Wow, that is quite a compliment. I am VERY flattered.

DancinginRain: thank-you for your review, it means a lot!

Kz and the snazzy plotbunnies: Wow! Your review is simply SPEWING energy and all kinds of amazingness. Thank-you! I'm glad to make someone so happy! And like I said before, haven't seen Dawn Treader yet, but I do Sunday I think :)

Alexandraya: Sounds like you've figured out the secret to high-heels. The closest I've come to high-heeled boots are normal cowboy boots—but, well, they're children's size, so even the heel barely makes it to two inches. Haha. And I've heard about that extra plot about the swords, and I have no intention of including it. It just sounds silly!

Exuberantly: Wish I could hear you, haha!

Lady Jill Pole: I recognize your name, I think maybe you have reviewed before. It's good to have you back, regardless! Thank-you so much for reading.

Eden54: I will hopefully be following the book more. Thank-you so much for your exciting review :)

Ari Saki: Your evil laugh worries me (quails in the corner) are you doing something wicked at my university? Haha ;)

A y e s i s: Thank-you very much!

Cartoon Moomba: I think my spring semester schedule may allow me to update more often. Perhaps once a week. (that's what I'm hoping, anywhow)

REDROBINS007: Hopefully following more book than movie.

: I dedicate this update to you. :D

King of King's Daughter: Take your time, but don't stay away for too long, I will miss you! :) if it helps, I don't plan on really following the movie that much. I've heard it departs from the book too much—but I will use it as a little reference here and there.

Suuki-Aldrea: Hopefully book, but a lot of my own creative licenses—I'll expand with many scenes, which for Lewis was only summary or a very quickly mentioned phrase left unexplored.

Lady Courage: I like that your review lives up to your name :) Thank-you for your well wishes, I will do my best to stay sane! (muahaha)

Blond Pickle Mule: I'm stubborn, one of my nicknames is Pickle, and I was born a blond baby. We're practically twins. Er—well, not really. But thank-you so much for reviewing! Can't wait to have you around for this adventure :)

Scissorhero: Oh, oh hey there, (cough) we haven't talked in ages (cough) I miss you (cough) AW HECK, I'm so excited you're still going to read my story. :D thanks for your VERY prompt review! See ya on the other side! ;)

Walks-with-nose-in-book: (inserts earplugs) you may now scream again! BUT before you do—thank-you for being the very first reviewer. You get a cyber cookie! :D

There were so many replies to write, I will not be doing that again unless you ask a specific question :) I just thought it'd be important to address everyone since it is the first post of many!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL, A VERY BLESSED NIGHT!