Okay, if Lapulta is reading this—Yes, I'm on hiatus—FROM THE FORUM. Not writing. So…:P

R&R?

J: AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

T:…Well, hello to you, too.

K: Wouldn't it be so convenient if Jane stopped screaming every time something happened?

J: AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

M: Well, wouldn't you shriek if it happened to you?

J: AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

K:… Point taken. Just don't do that to me.

T: Would someone please explain to me what's going on? I don't sleep in the bedroom with you girls, so I don't know what made Jane tear out of there at 3 o' clock in the morning!

M: It woke us all up first. And Jane was holding it at arm's length, talking about maiming Luke…

K: Ah, that reminded me so much about the old days, when we still hated each other's guts…

J: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

T: JANE! Chill…Now, will someone PLEASE explain to me what's going on?

M: It has something to do with Luke not being here.

K: Actually, I helped hide him…he says he's writing in his hiding spot, he'll attach it to the bottom of the page when he deems it fit to come out again.

J: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! KATHERINE! TELL ME WHERE HE IS—NOW!

T: *Wince*

M: That is to say, never.

Thomas raised his head higher, hoping to catch a nonexistent breeze and hoping to catch a glimpse of the elfin girl he had seen yesterday. Catching sight of a fat old bartender returning with another crate of wine, he sank again as the door swung closed again with a phfffft sound as the speed of the door forced a gust of wind into the greasy pub.

As the doorknob creaked with age again, Thomas looked up again. Over the table, he saw Katherine snort audibly and pull a book out of a rucksack inlaid with golden thread. Another straggler. An old, balding man with spots of age on his skin, tanned and seedy. Holding open the door for another person.

Then she walked in again.

Thomas brightened and waved, and Louisa waved back. The scowling turnip seller looked pointedly away, and Louisa caught his red face. Having a quick conference in Portuguese, the man turned his back and stormed angrily toward another empty yew table. Louisa pulled up a third chair from a nearby table, smiling at Thomas with an exasperated air.

"Hello, Thomas Cahill."

There was a flipping sort of slam. Katherine had conjured up a cloud of dust by hoisting the cover of a heavy book on Archimedes toward the end, aiming the grit pointedly at the pair at the last second.

"You told her our last name?"

"Well…yeah…" Thomas winced as Katherine turned murderous amber eyes from Louisa to Thomas in one swift motion. "I mean…what could go wrong? She's obviously not…I mean..Well…Look at her! She can't possibly be—"

"Don't tell me what a person can or can't be, Thomas. I thought a brother couldn't be a murderer. I was wrong. Don't make me lose faith in humanity again." She turned once again to Louisa. "Look, madam—I don't know who you are, what you do, or what connection you have with my family…"She glared pointedly at Thomas. "But if you are what I think you are…and my logical deductions are barely ever wrong…And if you…let slip anything about our family name to anyone, anyone at all, you will find yourself beating your family away from the doors of death. Am I clear?" She leaned over the table, trying to scare the brown eyes away from their steady stare.

Louisa bowed her head. "I am quite sorry you do not trust me. I thought we could have been friends. I mean no harm to either of you—I was simply trying to become acquainted with you and your brother. But, if you wish your name to be secret…" She tilted her head to the side, smiling in a friendly way. "Then so be it. Let us put this incident behind us." She held out her hand, open and accepting.

Katherine glared at the hand as though it had personally insulted her, then nodded slowly and took it, shaking it briefly. The smile on Louisa's face widened, and eventually Katherine's own glare slid off. Thomas knew that Louisa had gained Katherine's trust, which turned out to be quite a remarkable feat. Katherine knew how to hold a good grudge, and how to hurl a good threat. Anyone who was accepted so quickly must either be a really good person…or a really good actor.

Katherine smiled again to show there were no hard feelings. "I'm sorry, Louisa, Thomas—I'm going to study a bit more. Maybe my essay will convince someone to hire me as a scientist again." She looked at the book a bit more, running her hand over the calligraphy penned carefully into the front cover. "Then again, maybe I could hire myself. I'm interested about the reaction the phosphate has to…" She trailed off, grinning sheepishly and turning open the book again.

Louisa grinned toward Thomas. "And what is your specialty?"

Thomas glanced toward Katherine again. "Her opposite. I prefer exercise and physical work."

"Really?" Louisa glanced at him curiously. "My father owns the big vegetable plot on the other side of the hill over there. Maybe you can take on a job for him?"

"I'll think about it—but what hill? Where?"

"You're not familiar with the local geography, are you? Here—" She tilted her chair toward Thomas, explaining the landmarks.

Once or twice, Thomas could have sworn Katherine gave them both a knowing smile.

K: I didn't think you'd caught those looks.

T: Wait, so I was right? Why were you smiling?

M: Isn't it obvious? Honestly, I will never understand the stupidity of the male gender…especially you, Thomas.

J: You've gotta admit, she's right, Tom. You aren't the sharpest tool in the shed, eh?

T: Well, for a world-class author, you've got to be comparatively stupid to say "eh," right?

K: I notice you're purposely avoiding the word, just because you've pinned the crime on Jane.

M: You know, "eh" actually is a word in the dictionary…listed under interjections.

J: Take that!

T: Is the world seriously out to humiliate me?

K: Nope, just the people closest to you.

"WHAT?"

Jane stared incredulously as the sun settled lazily in the sky, illuminating the top of the bald man's head to a brilliant shade of gold.

"Sorry, miss, but it's the law."

"You mean, the unofficial law that everyone follows out of tradition, not to mention that this so called law is completely discriminating against half of the good people in this city!"

The man stared at Jane as she stopped her pacing in front of his face. His long, drooping mustache quivered slowly, and then an old, toothless mouth popped open and he let out a long, deep belly-laugh that made Jane grow more infuriated with each boisterous ha!

"WHAT?"

"Miss, I mean, seriously—look at yourself!"

On command, Jane looked at her arms and legs. Admittedly, she was not looking her best—her willowy dress had patches of red melding with the green. On her request. Maybe, with these omens, Luke could come and seal the broken tears in her heart. Shaking off the memory, she glared at the man and instinctively crossed her arms in a defiant manner.

"I see nothing wrong with myself that should look wrong to you."

"You are a girl, miss. A ten year old girl who seems to be here solely to beg. Here— " He fished a coin out of his pocket and tossed it in the hair. Instinctively, Jane reached for it. It landed, King Henry up, in the palm of her left hand.

"Take this to your father—good for a day's meal to suit a family of four. But don't come back for a job, dear. Thank you for a laugh. But no for a job."

He turned away, leaving a dumbfounded and angry Jane in his wake.

"This is not over. Not for a second, you old, doddling fool." Jane muttered angrily under her breath as she watched the fat, walrus-like man hobble over the bridge toward the distant theater.

J: Can you believe it? "Doddling" is such an old word, it doesn't even register in the dictionary on Microsoft Office Word any more.

M: Well, I suppose a lot of words are old fashioned. It's like they've…gone extinct.

T: Like Luke will go extinct? As in, died off?

K:…Was there another meaning of extinct that I didn't know existed?

J: Nope. Speaking of which…

M: NO. JANE. NOT NOW.

J: Awww…

T: And isn't it just such a coincidence that Luke is coming here right now?

All: …

K: Actually, it is.

Dark. Pitch black night settling over the place like a blanket. Covering the gilded mansion, fading off in the distance as Luke seemed to be pulled away from it. The house of Archduke Charles.

Then, the red drapes hanging through the glass seemed to grow and swallow the house. Flickering with orange, Luke was pulled back a couple of feet, only to find that the house on fire. Flickering, bricks and stones were eaten up in a roaring inferno as Luke watched helplessly.

Screams. Loud, heart wrenching screams. One of them was quite obvious—he'd heard it once, when the butler to the Archduke carried up a bowl of soup that Luke had rigged with a spider. The Archduke—even in his abject terror, his sense of quiet did not leave him. Only when he was out of hope. Only when he was about to die.

Another one carried through the air, slicing through it sharply. Old, frail, scratchy. Annie. Pleas of help began to die off, then came back with frightening intensity.

And then, clearer and louder than the others, ringing with a tremor like a bell. Terror. High-pitched, loud, and girlish. He did not need to see who it was. A fiery mane of red hair flung wildly in his mind's eye as the voice of Jane crackled out of life, replaced by sparks and the crumbling of walls.

Then, two dark shadows faded in front of the fire. Draped in black, they murmured quietly. One of the dark, lumped shapes turned the hood toward Luke. Catching sight of his face, the man laughed, then straightened with his companion and threw back his hood.

Thomas.

The other threw back her own hood, but Luke did not need to look at the amber eyes and golden hair to know Katherine.

Luke lunged at his siblings, but was thrown back by some unstoppable force. Silence creaked through the air, absent except for the flickering of fire.

Then, Thomas and Katherine flickered out of focus, then reappeared. They seemed to draw closer and closer, shadows blending, in and out, in and out, until they were one person. Black hair, slick, and piercing eyes. Luke could place the person, but lost his focus and missed it. He threw his hood back on and laughed—cold, calculating. Icy. Undoubtedly in triumph.

He leapt, high, into the trees. With that, a rush of wind blew through the forest and blew him away. Riding on the wind, too swift for Luke to ever catch.

And then, he woke. Just as he always did. Reassure himself that he was safe, maybe get a bit of water. He would remind himself it was not real, to put it behind him.

And then it would brand itself into his head once again the next night.

L: Bye, Jane.

J: NO! LUKE CAHILL, YOU COME HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND, OR I'LL— I'LL—

K: What?

M: You already threatened to wound him to the point of death…yeah, there's only so much that come after that, most of which would make us have to change the rating of this piece.

T: For the last time, someone please explain to me what is going on?

M: Nope.

K: Oh, and he said "for the last time…" That means he's not going to bother us again!

T: Why do I even bother trying?

M: Because you're an idiot.

T: That was a rhetorical question.

K: You actually know the word rhetorical?

M: Nope, he's probably just heard it used in context and thought it "sounded cool." That's his excuse for everything.

T: Shut up. Write.

O: I'll write that, if you don't mind.

M: Actually, I do…but fine. Go ahead.

"Mother?"

Olivia smiled. "Yes, Madeleine?"

Madeleine proved to be quite a remarkable child. Though she showed no signs of any particularly special talent that should have come from the serum, she could speak as though she had decades of learning, and had ingenuity and imagination beyond her few years.

Yes, Olivia had given her the serum. Most unwillingly. But there was always the chance that the plague would come back. Olivia would not take that chance. She would not lose her last child.

The little, toddling girl stumbled her way toward her mother, who was staring at the sky. After the storm, the two would sit together outside—Madeleine looking for rainbows in puddles, Olivia looking for rainbows in the sky.

"Mother, you missed a rainbow." She pointed up at the streak of color. "You never really concentrate, do you?"

"No, Madeleine, I don't." Her voice grew softer. "I think about your sisters. Your brothers. Your family." She smiled. "You would have loved them so much. Luke would probably have helped you play pranks on the house until it fell down—he'd help you strategize them all. Jane and you—creative minds, both of you. Katherine would have loved to help you tinker with all the household materials. Thomas would have helped you learn to walk, then run, then jump, and on and on. And of course, where would you be without a father?"

"Here. I would be here. Exactly where I am now."

"Oh, Madeleine, you would have loved them all so much." She looked back up to the heavens. "All so different—but same at the same time. What made them hate each other so?"

"Mother, what does it mean to be different, but same?"

"Well…take a look at that rainbow," said Olivia, waving her hand at the splash of color splattering over the horizon. "Jane always described them as different colors—Thomas blue, Luke green, Katherine yellow, and Jane herself green." She paused for a moment. "She said those are what made them all love each other, yet be so different. They helped each other grow, they owed it to themselves to love each other. That's what Jane said." Olivia stared.

"So which color would you and father be?"

"What?"

"You said that a family is not complete without parents."

"Well…"Olivia thought for a moment.

"I suppose your father would be orange, like fire. Always free, destructive if he was in one of his worse moods, but warm, kind, and loving when he was happy…which would be always."

"Well then…I guess it's a bit fitting he died as he lived. Like a tribute to himself."

"He did not have to die, Madeleine. Just because it is the best way to die does not mean they should die whenever it is convenient."

"I'm sorry, mother. I simply thought that, should he have to die, that is the best way for him to leave the world. Someday, mother, when you can once again think like a child, you will understand. Continue. What color are you?"

"Hm…"Olivia thought. "Well, your father—he said I was royalty. "Fit for a queen," I think he called it. He loved us all so much, he thought himself so lucky. In reality, I think we were the luckiest ones, to have him as a father. So…purple, I would say."

"And me?"

"That is for you to decide, Madeleine. You decide your future—you alone can decide what you will be, what destiny you will have. You alone can decide what you will do to give to the beauty of the sky—or the Earth."

There was the still, quiet crashing of the waves on the shore for a while. The reds, purples, oranges of the setting sun watered into a navy blue, stars winking in and out of existence like pinpricks.

"I have decided."

Olivia looked down, curioius. Her daughter was so young, and already deciding what path she would take. "What is it?"

"Black."

"Black? Black is the color of villians, evil, fear. Why would you choose black?"

"But black is the color of the backdrop of the sky. Black is needed for the people to understand."

Olivia turned to Madeleine, watching as the girl's eyes swarmed hungrily among the stars. A small half-smile turned on her mouth as her eyes gave off the reflection of the pinpoints of light.

"Without black, people cannot appreciate just how white the stars are, just how bright things can be in the darkest of times. I have no special talent, mother, unlike my siblings—and you know it. But it is good, because without that, I can learn to appreciate the simple things in life, and let the others realize the value of the unimportant—for without the unimportant, there is no one important either. The rainbows, the sun, the stars—they all need black, for without it, no one can appreciate the true beauty of them. People can detest it as much as they like, but they need it, because it keeps the balance. I will show them how they have turned wrong, and how together, they can light up the sky and paint it into something brighter than ever. They need me, mother, to appreciate each other."

Olivia hesitated. "Why not white, then? It is also the great canvas in the sky—and much more bright."

"My life is dark, mother. Life itself is full of darkness. But darkness is needed to appreciate the white. It is fitting, once again."

"Just because something is fitting does not mean it is mandatory, Madeleine."

Madeleine turned back to Olivia, her eyes piercing in a kinder way than Luke's, but piercing all the same. She smiled again, in a way which made Olivia feel more like the learner than Madeleine.

"Oh, but mother—when you learn to think like a child once again, you will understand."

J: Okay, great, I've got to go now, bye!

K: Hey, woah, Jane—I know what you're doing. No, I didn't hide Luke in the freezer.

M: …the freezer?

T: And exactly why would Luke hide in the freezer?

M: Reflecting on that, why would only Jane, Katherine, and Luke know why?

J: The thing he put in my bed…was…

K: Don't make us change the rating!

J: Err…something dissected and frozen.

T: …Ah…

M: Okay, done with that subject! Now, who wants pizza?

K: …I kind of lost my appetite.

T: Yeah, no thanks.

M: Come on…they come with breadsticks!

T: Oh, alright…I suppose I'll come…

K: I'll still pass.

J: Good! I still need to interrogate you on Luke's whereabouts!

K: I'm sorry, but since Luke happens to be the spy among us, he is better at that than you. And he's not here to help you now.

J: Oh, fine…Maybe the pizza will lure him out, anyway…