Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Hetalia, Stolichnaya, or Rihanna.

A/N: ...so much for a week or two in between chapters, y/y? Sorry, all, but my muse decided that gaming was more important than you. orz;;; /has been at the mercy of Nazi Zombies and Fallout 3 and Dragon Age 2 (ohmaigodFenris) for the past few months

Hope you don't kill me, and that you enjoy this chapter. It's extra long (obby) because, as an apology, I fused chapters six and seven into one massive chapter that handles...pretty much the rest of the heavy in this fic. I think. I dunno. Also, major apologies for about 400 people - I'm a lazy whore who hasn't been replying to all her reviews lately. So here's a massive thanks to everyone! :)

As always, a massive ty to Lily for betareading. ^^

Oh. And driving with seniors is fun, especially when they race and drive over sidewalks and go 100 on hills. C:

Chapter 6 - mono and manperiods

"We should go for a movie," remarked Ivan randomly a few days after the biking debacle. The two of us sat on one of the large, comfy sofas in the den of my house, the widescreen television on to some crappy SaiFai* film or other. This one was about massive anchovies eating people, and Ivan looked enthralled even though it was such an awfully low-budget movie. "You can buy my ticket because I paid for your hospital visit," he added as he took another long swig from the half-empty bottle of Stolichnaya in his hand. Ludwig was at work; if he'd been at home, it would've taken a couple hundred dollars to make me even consider allowing underage drinking in front of him.

"Dude, my health insurance covered it," I grumbled even as I reached for my uPhone and checked movie times at the Port Angeles theater. "You paid like, five bucks for the gas it took to drive me there. Uh, there's something called Face Punch playing in Port Angeles tonight at 8:40, does that sound okay?"

Ivan looked pensive. "Is that the one that got bad reviews?"

"Yep. You seem to like this movie, so I thought that I might as well cater to your terrible taste."

"Thank you, Lovi!" he beamed, either not noticing or ignoring my blatant trolling.

"It's rated R. Your grandfather won't care, right?"

"Oh, not at all. He's been telling me stories about torturing Nazis in the Second Great War since I was five."

World War II? Wow. Mr. Winter was old. And fucking crazy. No wonder Ivan turned out so estranged.

I twitched. "Ooookay. Then we can leave here at, like, 8. Your crazy driving will probably get us there with time to spare."

Ivan left shortly after to go home and shower. He had a habit of popping up at other people's houses at all odd hours; that morning, he'd woken me up at like 9 so he could come inside and get smashed on my sofa, mumbling something about not wanting to stay home. I'd wheedled the truth out of him, though, and as it turned out his sister was visiting. If you remember, Yekaterina Braginskaya had filed a restraining order against Ivan a few years earlier, which kept him from getting within one hundred meters of her. As such, he'd grabbed the vodka and high-tailed it out of La Push as soon as he heard that she was coming to visit. It was likely that Toris and Raivis, as childhood friends of the Braginskis, would drop in, so Ivan decided dropped by my place instead. Yeah, the whole situation was pretty damn funny, but when I laughed, Ivan's face twisted into this expression of pure distress and misery, so I tried to transmutate my laugh into a cough. It...kind of worked...I guess...

Either way, Miss B was only going to be in La Push for a few hours, probably to break the news about being pregnant or some other such thing. By 6, said Ivan, she would be long gone, so he could go home and change before driving back to pick me up at 8.

Thankfully, everything went according to plan: his sister had indeed departed, so Ivan wasn't arrested for violating his restraining order and the twenty-something dollars I spent on our movie tickets didn't go to waste. Though he was pretty sad about not getting to see Toris, who had quite recently stopped hanging out with him.

Ivan was one of those people who, despite being tall and broad and muscular, looked good in slim-cut jeans and sweaters. When he pulled up, I felt a little underdressed; I'd just grabbed my dark blue jeans and yanked them on with a lime green hoodie that brought out the color in my eyes, according to Mom. Either way, I climbed up into the passenger seat of his gas-guzzler and barely had my seatbelt strapped on before he floored it.

The radio was on to some god-awful country music. I poked at the dashboard, trying to find a good channel; the fifth button preset was for, like, R&B, and Rihanna belted out that sticks and stones may break her bones but -

"- chains and whips excite me," grinned Ivan, singing under his breath and nodding his head in tune with the song. "Cuz I may be bad, but I'm perfectly - Lovino? Are you okay? You look like you just had an aneurysm."

Okay, look: it's scary as fuck to see six feet of Russian muscle singing along to Rihanna. Honestly. I mean, his voice wasn't awful, but he was gripping the steering wheel really tightly and he looked homicidal and it just wasn't fun.

"Uh...I'm fine."

The blonde shrugged. "If you're sure. S-S-S-N, M-M-M -"

When we reached the mall ten minutes later, I found myself with a few bruises on my forehead from whamming the windowpane in misery. Despite the dull throbbing, I got out of the car and followed Ivan out of the parking lot; we printed the tickets at one of those spiffy booths by the theater entrance, and strode inside with a few minutes to spare.

It was only when Ivan stopped to buy soda that I realized, fuck, he was tall. What if the theater was full? Common courtesy was that giants didn't sit in the front rows, after all.

As it turned out, I didn't have to worry about blocking some cute girl's view of the screen, because there were two seats in the very top row that (despite being between a rather...vigorous couple and a total blazer) were perfect and smack-dab in the middle.

Oh, god, the movie sucked. It was possibly the worst film I'd ever seen, because the plot was underdeveloped and the comic relief got shot ten minutes in and the girl who was supposed to be the hot sex appeal wasn't even that hot. I groaned and leaned back in my seat, prepared to nap, even as Ivan sat on the edge of his seat with his eyes wide and enthralled.

He woke me up when the movie was done, frowning solemnly. "The hot girl got run over by a tank."

I snorted. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the movie anyway?"

"Oh, it was lovely! Brains and entrails spattering everywhere!" He sighed dreamily.

We got up and exited the empty theater. Ivan grunted and rubbed at the back of his head, sniffling slightly. "Hey, you feeling okay?" I asked, peering up at him with an arched eyebrow. Because, you know, it would totally suck if he passed out; I wasn't really confident in my ability to see over the dashboard of his massive car, let alone drive the damn thing, and getting stranded in Port Angeles at night was not very high on my bucket list.

"Yeah. Feeling a little tired...maybe I'm hungover." Shaking his head as if to clear it, Ivan yawned and jammed hs hands into his pockets. "Hmm, I need to use the bathroom." He strode off into the men's room, and I sighed, leaning against the wall and tapping my foot impatiently.

"Hey, don't I recognize you?" asked someone all of a sudden, and I turned to stare at the guy who'd spoken. He was tall, broad, and blonde, face set in a very concentrated frown as if thinking took a great deal of energy. Looking at his buffness and the company he kept (four or five others who all looked like the brawn-over-brain sort of people), thinking probably did take energy.

"Uh. No?" I sure as hell didn't recognize hi -

Ohhh. Fuck. It was one of those guys from way back when, when I'd met Lily in that alley - except he had, like four more people with him. Maybe he'd been watching Face Punch with Ivan and me?

I guess he remembered at the same time I did, because a rather nasty grin spread over his face. "I thought I did. Aren't you the scrawny little bastard who stuck your nose into my business a few weeks ago?"

You know, a common thought people get when they see me is that I'm an idiot. Unfortunately, I'm not, which was why I knew immediately that - in the more-or-less abandoned movie theater hallway - if those idiots picked a fight with me, I'd be completely screwed. Why did Ivan take so long to piss?

"Uh. No?" I tried, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Do I look like the sort of -" I stopped with a yelp as he punched the wall next to my face. "Don't hit me, bastard!"

"You," he sneered, hazel eyes livid as he leaned in, "cost me and my friends quite an enjoyable night. How do you suppose you'll pay us back for that inconvenience?"

I swallowed hard and opened my mouth. "I -"

"This looks fun! Perhaps I can join in?" said my newly-favorite Communist coolly, smiling slightly as he ambled out of the bathroom.

"Go the fuck away," hissed one of the other guys, standing menacingly.

"You're very welcoming," Ivan grinned before turning to me. "Shall we go?"

Guy #1 snickered. "Who's this, your boyfriend? Tell him to fuck off, because we're busy."

Ivan laughed once before responding, "I can see that. Either way, we really do need to be leaving." He stepped closer, practically butting heads with Guy #1. "Another time, maybe."

Why do I always end up friends with the crazy people? I groaned slightly as Ivan regarded him coldly and saying something about how he'd beat the rest of them bloody if they didn't leave. I rubbed the bridge of my nose; the resemblence between Ivan and Antonio was uncanny. Then one of the guys said something I didn't catch, and Ivan more or less lost it.

When Ivan punched Guy #1 in the face hard enough to send him careening back, blood streaming from his busted lip and his probably-broken nose, I shouted. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

Ivan whacked another guy twice before the rest of them skidaddled. He turned to me, breathing hard through gritted teeth, and I stepped back when I saw how furious he was. "H-hey, what -"

"I have to go," he said bluntly before turning and practically running out.

"What? I need a ride!"

He still left.

...well, fuck. I glared at his retreating form and called Ludwig to pick me up.

I called Ivan the next morning - not to see if he was okay, but to ask if he wanted his vodka back. He'd forgotten it the day before, and it was only common courtesy to give it back.

I was not worried, okay? Bastards.

Mr. Winter answered the phone. "Hello, Lovino," he said after I asked to speak to Ivan. "I'm sorry, but Eevan is very eell. He can't talk to you."

"Oh, could you tell him I -" The other line clicked, and I scowled. How rude.

"How is he?" asked Ludwig, who sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a newspaper. "Mr. Winter said he had mono."

"Well, I don't know if he's any better. He's too sick to talk."

"Hmm. You sound suspicious."

"Maybe I am. What's it to you?" I grunted, picking at my toast. "Bah. He looked like shit yesterday, anyway." And he'd left me to figure out a way home. Mr. Winter didn't sound like he was telling the truth, but for all I knew Ivan actually had come down with something.

"You could drop by later, if you really doubt Mr. Winter," suggested Ludwig.

I blanched. "Hell no. He'll gut me and use the remains to - to - to make some crazy Russian food or something. I don't know."

Ludwig stared at me blankly. "Just a suggestion."

Two more days passed with no word from Ivan. I finally decided that something was totally up - I hadn't gone two hours the whole summer without at least a text from the hulking Russian, let alone two days. I drove out to La Push after I got off work.

Mr. Winter wasn't home when I arrived, but Ivan's Hummer sat in the driveway with rain pattering down onto the shiny black surface. I yanked my hood up over my head and ran over to the door, squishing myself under the eaves to shield myself from the rain as I rapped impatiently on the door. "Oi. Oi. Open up!" Nobody answered; I groaned and marched around the house, head bowed, to check if Ivan was in the barn.

I saw him leaving the house in drenched black jeans and a scarf, wet hair slicked back off his face.

"Dude! What the fuck?" I hollered, stomping over to him and shivering at a particularly harsh gust of wind. "I thought you were dead or something!"

He stared at me before sighing and glaring back at the ground, shaking his head and continuing his trek across his muddy backyard.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" I grabbed his arm and recoiled - his skin was almost painfully hot. "Uh...man, you're like, over nine thousand degrees here. Why are you walking around shirtless in the rain?"

"Go away," he muttered, and I gaped.

"What?"

"Go away," he repeated, yanking his arm away from me and turning that terrifying glare on me. I paled. "Just go back home."

"No!" I bit out. "You crazy? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"It doesn't even matter anymore." He stepped closer; I moved back.

"The fuck? Of course it does," I insisted. "In case you didn't notice, you're like, my -" I swallowed. "- my best friend. Ugh. Okay, I admitted it."

His eyes turned real sad, and he glanced back at my face for a second. "I'm sorry, Lovino. It's just - I - I tried, I really did, but I can't -"

He stopped and looked off to the side. A few seconds later, I heard someone calling his name, and I turned in the direction I'd heard it. Alfred Jones and a handful of others stood at the edge of the wood behind Ivan's house, also shirtless and wet to the bone; Alfred had his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted. "Hurry up, broski!"

Ivan sighed again, shoulders slumping. "I have to go."

"Wait!"

"Lovino. I...we can't be friends any more."

I froze. "You're joking.

He shook his head. "I'm not."

Alfred called for him again.

"Oh, oh, I see," I hissed, reaching up and pushing my wet bangs back up off my face. The hood of my dark parka had slid off my head, too weighty with rainwater, and my hair clung to my skin. "You and Alfred, huh? Real buddy-like all of a sudden. What'd he do, say that you had to drop me or something if you wanted to join his club?"

"It's nothing like that!"

"Bullshit! You're always going off about how much you hate him, and all of a sudden you start following him around, and ditching your friends at movie theaters and lying about being sick just so you could chill with him? What the hell happened to all your oh, he's such a loser! I don't know why anyone likes that bastard! banter?"

"Lovino, I'm -" Ivan reached out, completely distraught.

"Alfred got to you, that's what!"

"No!" he more or less roared. I flinched; he looked about to punch me in the nose, before he lowered his arm, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to articulate his thoughts. "He's trying to help me!"

"You know what, Ivan?" I ground out. "Fuck you. Fuck. You. You're a stupid, selfish brat that I can't believe I wasted my entire summer with. I hope you trip over a rock and break your goddamn nose or something stupid while you prance around after Alfred!" I turned and stormed away, ignoring Ivan's pleads for me to wait.

He didn't chase me as I climbed back into my car and drove off. Alfred watched me go, and when I saw him staring I flipped him off despite the hard look on his face.

After I stopped outside my house in Forks, I decided that there was way too much resemblence between Ivan and Antonio. At least this time it hadn't been a messy break with a faggoty sparkly vampire who, like Ivan, had no business becoming so important to me in such a short time.

I cried all the same, and chugged the leftover Stolichnaya in the car so that I could tell myself that my eyes were only red from the alcohol.

I woke up tired, stiff, and a little hungover. There hadn't been much vodka left, and I only took like two beers from the fridge, but I'm not a very good drinker so what I had proved more than enough to get me drunk. I'd passed out at my desk, where I'd gone and sat after showering. Fuck, my back hurt.

After a nice hot shower, I felt a lot better. My head throbbed a bit, but it wasn't as bad as before. I yanked on a highlighter yellow t-shirt and a pair of boxers before wandering downstairs and raiding the fridge; hungry enough to actually cook something, I grabbed the carton of eggs and a package of spinach from the vegetable drawer and made an omelette. I fried some of the frozen, pre-cut potatoes we'd had in the freezer for a few months, and drowned them in ketchup before scarfing them down with the eggs and a glass of orange juice. Since it was, like, barely 11AM, I flopped on the sofa to see if there was anything worth watching on TV. Some random-ass show about, like, ice cream or summat shit kept me busy for an hour, and at twelve I decided that I should probably do something. A note from Ludwig on the fridge said that he wouldn't be home till, like, five or six, so I had time to spare.

I thought about buying some ice cream and watching something on pay-per-view, but when I opened the garage door to get shoes, I saw my hiking boots thrown haplessly against the wall from where I'd hurled them months before. Staring at them for a few minutes, I decided that - since I had nothing else to do - I could go hiking.

But I went out to go buy a tub of coffee ice cream first. The best thing about Forks was that, since it's always so fucking cold, you didn't have to worry about your frozen foods melting.

When I got back home, I went and grabbed my hiking boots, dislodging a number of spider webs and shaking a few out of each boot in the process. At least I'd grown up killing spiders; Mom couldn't stand the things, so the job of squishing the giant daddy long-legs in the bathroom always fell on my shoulders. When I pulled them on, they felt firm with disuse and the mud caked on from, like, May. Or April. One of those months. And they made funny cracking noises whenever I stepped forward.

Either way, I wasn't gonna go buy new boots, so I tucked my old, grass-stained blue jeans into them and selected a gray sweater from the closet. Tucking a scarf around my throat and hefting my bag over a shoulder, I walked out the back door with my tub of ice cream and a white plastic spoon in hand.

Hmm, how to get there? My sense of direction wasn't that bad, but the scenery had changed so much. I sighed and marched off into the woods, trying to remember which direction we'd gone in all those months ago.

It took me a few hours, and leaves kept falling into my ice cream, but finally I found the clearing Antonio had taken me to. The large trees around it weren't landmarks, but I remembered the pale green vines creeping up around them; if I hadn't, then I would've marched right past the clearing. See, without people to personally care for the flowers, the entire area had been overtaken with weeds and grass. In the middle of summer, everything had turned a hideous shade of grayish-yellow, and the grass snapped underfoot.

Still, it was familiar. I marched into the middle of the clearing and plopped right down onto my ass, intent on finishing my ice cream and maybe setting something on fire while I was here. The only reason that this area was so dry was because Elizaveta and Antonio had, once upon a time, taken the liberty to uproot trees and tear off branches from the surrounding trees to allow a patch of open grass that they made into a garden of sorts; such exposure to the sky practically killed everything. If I set something on fire, the damp surrounding plants and the trees would probably put the fire out...

I was seriously considering it when someone spoke to me. "Lovino?" Sounded familiar, but...no way.

I spun around, stepping back in horror. "Herakles?"

Said vampire smiled slowly. Herakles was one of the vampires who'd caused the general mayhem earlier that year; if it hadn't been for them, my leg wouldn't have gotten broken and bedridden me for a month and postponed my disastrous birthday party. However, while Mask and Pipsqueak, his two companions, were more or less insane (and, in Mask's case, very dead), Herakles hadn't wanted trouble with Antonio and the other Kirkland-Bonnefois vampires, mostly because he was far too lazy to hunt. He'd left shortly after warning us against Mask, and never returned - until today, that is.

I swallowed the last spoonful of my ice cream and dropped the empty container onto the ground. (Fuck littering, I'd trash the clearing if I wanted to.) "Uh. Nice to see you again?"

"You...too, you too," he nodded. "How have...you been?"

"Good," I answered shortly. "What brings you here?"

He didn't reply for a moment, just smiling serenely and looking around. "Where are your...companions?"

"Around here somewhere." That wasn't a complete lie; sure, they weren't here, but they were somewhere. That counted, right? "Hunting, I think. Why?"

And no, I don't really know why I knew to lie. Wasn't like I heard some stupid voice in my head telling me to.

"No, they're...not."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know very well what...I mean, Lovino," said Herakles. He moved slowly, practically circling me. "They're long gone...aren't they?"

"Uh, no."

"Perhaps I should...rephrase: they've...been gone for...at least four months, yes? Don't lie, I can't...smell them."

Well, fuck. I licked my dry lips and turned to face him. "Okay. So maybe they're not here now. But they're due to return in a few hours."

"Really?" He looked dubious, though it took a few moments for his features to shift into that expression. "So...you're saying that...they left you here. Alone. Unprotected. For...a few months?"

"What do you want?" I burst out. "We never did anything to you!"

"Not...to me," he agreed, "but I am...here for Gupta. He wanted me...to see if you were...still being protected. Which you...are not."

Trembling slightly, I jumped back as he stepped in front of me.

"Gupta...feels that Antonio...has done him a great...injustice. Which...he has, I agree. And Gupta, he wants...to repay it. In kind." Herakles tilted his head slightly, crimson eyes glittering. "An eye...for an eye. A lover...for a lover. That sounds...fair, does it not?"

I sneered. "Lover? That bastard dumped me. He's as much my lover as you are!"

Herakles shook his head. "A great injustice," he repeated. "A sentiment with which...I agree completely."

"What happened to the whole 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind' thing?"

"It is...far more cruel to...allow someone to suffer...as much as Gupta has. Perhaps blindness...is preferable in this...situation." He smiled slightly, white teeth glinting.

"Please don't," I breathed, swallowing hard as Herakles reached out and patted my cheek in a manner that was probably meant to be consoling, but really almost sent me into hysterics.

"I'm being...kind," claimed Herakles, "and saving you...from the pain Gupta would inflict...if he got his hands...on you. He asked me only...to check on you...and on the status of...your vampire protectors, but...your blood smells good."

Fuuuuuck. I whimpered slightly as he gripped my chin and forced my head back, pulling my scarf down with one hand and exposing my throat. I didn't want to die - I couldn't even drink legally yet, for God's sake!

He moved in close, and I bit my lip. How exactly does one go about dying? I probably should've seen my life pass before my eyes, but my mind just jammed up - I saw nothing but Herakles' face, looming in closer like the killer pendulum in that one poem -

- and then he moved back all of a sudden. I blinked and thanked the Lord for not killing me as Herakles stepped away, turning and staring into the woods behind him in surprise.

"It's...not possible," he breathed, backtracking from the edge of the forest. "Wolves?"

He shot a glance at me, eyebrow arched, and promised, "I'll...be back. Or maybe...Gupta will."

I gulped.

Then he spun and ran, vanishing before I could even blink.

Trees at the opposite edge of the clearing rustled, and I swear that my jaw hit the ground as four or five massive wolves bounded out of the forest. I screeched and fled, moving as far out of the way as possible; I tripped and landed on my butt, and kept scrambling back to try and avoid being squashed.

Most of the wolves ran after Herakles, and I screamed bloody murder as one of them stopped in front of me. It had a sleek, pitch black coat, much like the first one that ran by, but clear, startlingly familiar eyes. They were light, like amethysts, and glittered sadly.

Then it turned its massive head and ran off after the others.

Now, in case you don't remember or in case I didn't tell you, there'd been a rumor going around Forks and La Push that massive bears had been killing hikers. Six people had gone missing so far, but whenever hunters or cops went searching, they didn't find anything pertaining to the murders. Actually, nobody knew for sure whether or not bears were behind the disappearances - but in a small town, rumors spread like wildfire.

Either way, I nearly passed out. But then my head landed on the tub of ice cream I'd discarded earlier. The creamy coffee ice cream - or whatever was left of it - stuck to my hair, and I groaned as I sat up.

I needed to tell Ludwig. I raced home - well, raced as fast as my truck could manage - and almost slipped on the rain-soaked pavement as I ran inside. Ludwig sat at the kitchen table with a man I recognized from the police station.

"Wolves. Massive fucking wolves!" I panted, gripping the counter for support.

Ludwig frowned. "What do you mean?"

"In the forest! Those things, they're not bears! They're wolves!"

The other cop glanced at Ludwig. "Wolves."

"I'm not crazy!" I insisted. "I saw them. They're massive fucking wolves!"

"Lovino, you're sure?" inquired Ludwig. "Giant wolves?"

"Yes!" I fumed. "Giant wolves!"

Both of them stared at me. Then Ludwig stood and turned to his partner. "Well, if you're in the mood for some hunting...?"

I ushered them out of the house and practically slammed the door in Ludwig's face after he stepped outside. Why? Well, a few minutes after I got home, I realized that there was just no way in hell that the wolves had caught up to Herakles. Despite how shocked (and anxious) he'd seemed before departing, nothing could outrun a vampire. Nothing could overpower a vampire. It wasn't fathomable.

By now, the wolves - if they had even managed to catch up to him - would be dead.

By now, Herakles would have made it back to Pipsqueak and told him that I was unprotected.

By now, said Egyptian douchelord would be planning out my murder.

Well, fuck.

I swallowed. My stomach hadn't stopped flipping the whole day: the knowledge of my imminent death was gonna give me an ulcer. Or, really, it would've, if I managed to live long enough. Sinking onto my bed, I prayed that Ludwig wouldn't return until much later and that my mangled body would never be found, because that would be a major bust.

But if I wasn't found, Ludwig would tear the country apart looking for me.

But if I was found, he'd see my remains, and that would suck.

But if I wasn't found -

I shrieked as something hit the window - faint, but very distinct, like a pebble or something.

Shuddering in trepidation, I crawled over my bed to the window and peered outside, eyes squeezed shut as I mumbled one final prayer.

Nothing happened for a second. I cracked one eye open and managed to choke on my spit in surprise.

Instead of the dark-skinned, dark-haired, red-eyed vampire I was expecting, Ivan sat curled up comfortably in the tree opposite my window, scarf whipping in the wind as he prepared to throw another twig for my attention.

I considered yanking the blinds shut and leaving him there.

A/N: Cliffhangerrrrrr

Argh, I really need to let up on the angst. I hate writing sad shit. Especially so much of it - chapter six was only supposed to have two sections, and end before the clearing. Ah well. Hope you Greece fans enjoyed seeing him? Even though I suck at writing him, bleck.

Uh, so, yeah. I think I shall warn you now that you will not get another update for a while, because of two main things: one, my brother is coming home from college (which means that I get to play Dragon Age II every single day for the next few months fuck yes I got a gay romance with Hawke and Fenris) and two, I'm taking physics in summer school (which will keep me painfully busy, seeing that it's a year-long course condensed into six wonderful weeks). I should be able to update sometime next month, unless...well, unless. I dunno what unless, but still.

Hope you enjoyed. ^^