Wow! I got a review! Yeee! ok. Sorry for the delay. Writers block. x.x I
hate those things. Well, anyways, heres the next LONG and particuarly
BLOODY chapter. Booya n.n
WARNINGS: Extremely blood and graphic near the end. Prepare yourself. And slight Ken oocness. :P
---***--- Chapter 5: Elegy ---***---
"Ken! Ken!" Omi was shaking the older male profusedly, trying to wake the soccer player from his nightmare induced sleep.
Bronzed occuli shot open, and Ken yelped, tumbling off his bed and landing with a hard thump upon the ground, smacking his head roughly into the floorboards. It left him stunned and confused, and when he didn't move, Omi instantly kneeled by his side, whimpering out his appologies.
"It's ok Omi. Really." With a groan, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, hand to his throbbing head.
"I heard you yelling, so I came to investigate. You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?"
"Hai. Arigato Omi. Go back to bed. No need to worry about me."
"Are you sure?"
"Hai."
The teen hurriedly plastered on a forced and worried smile, before exiting the room swiftly. He was rather unnerved by the nightmares Ken was having lately.
***Flashback***
"Demo...Kenkun! It's been a week! You have no leads! Nothing to go by!"
"I can't just idly sit around while she's out there somewhere, probably frightened to death!" The chocolate haired male snarled, furiously pacing the room.
"Kenkun....For all you know, she could be dead...."
"She's not."
"How do you know?"
Their eyes darted to see Aya standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glare situated upon his frozen facade, "Your obsession over this girl is interfering with your ability to work. I suggest you let it go."
"You son of a bitch!" Ken instantly had his fingers wrapped around a portion of Aya's bright orange sweater, and he slammed the redhead against the wall, vicious brown occuli meeting the calm, cool depths of amethyst.
"Kenkun!"
"As if your obsession over your damn sister doesn't do the same to you! Don't you fucking talk about work Aya. You've purposely disobeyed missions before, just to try and get your damn revenge. Atleast you know that she's safe and sound!"
He didn't even see the punch coming.
"KEN!" Omi yelled, as the brown haired athlete fell back, blood spewing from a busted lip and a smashed nose.
Aya had his hands clenched so tightly that they drew blood. For once, the stoic redhead decided to speak more than just a few words, "My sister means the world to me. Family relations are far more important than some girl that you met a yet ago."
"How can you differentiate family from friend? I have no family to latch on to! She's one of my closest friends. She's just as close as family. Don't you fucking tell me thats she's less important than some vegetable girl!"
Ken knew he had crossed the line at that statement. The soccer player was never so verbal. Never so loud. Never so....agressive or mean, but he was known for small tendencies to blow his top, and the stress of loosing someone dear had taken it's toll on him.
Aya was on him in a second.
By the time the entire encounter was over, ended only by the fact that Yohji managed to subdue Aya long enough for Omi to get Ken safely to his room.
As soon as Yohji let go, Aya left the store immediately, and didn't come back until morning, when Omi was busy making breakfast for no one. He said nothing, and merely wandered to his room, slamming the door behind him.
***END***
"Ayakun?" Omi tentatively knocked at the redheads door, surprised that after his second knock, the door opened, and the cold optics of his fellow team mate fell upon him.
"What?"
"Can I speak with you?"
"Fine." He opened the door wide enough for Omi to slip in, before shutting it behind him and leaning against it.
"Ayakun. Ken....Kenkun is just under a lot of stress. You two haven't spoken for the last two days. I... I've seen him crying at night, and I've heard him cursing himself for being such a jackass. I think you should talk to him. I'm sure he's incredibly sorry for what he said and did."
"No."
"But Ayakun! Kenkun has lost someone too! And it's much worse than your situation, because he has no clue where she is, or if she's even alive. Can't you understand how awful he must feel? Wouldn't you act the same way if your sister was taken from you, and you had no leads to finding her?"
"Hn."
Omi could see a flicker of emotion radiating in his pupils. He was beginning to break.
"I'm sure you've seen Sarahsan around Ken before. Didn't you notice how much he smiled then? How much he laughed? They were best friends, as I'm sure you and your sister were. You may have lost her to a coma, but she has a chance of waking up, and even if she doesn't, she's always within reach, and you can always be with her. Kens situation is different. He can't do those things. He can't see her to reassure himself that she is ok. He doesn't know where she is, and I'm sure that he feels she may be dead, no matter how much he denies it. You two are in similar situations. Please. Talk to him. I'm sure he could use some help right about now."
"Fine."
The male, otherwise known as mr-stick-lodged-firmly-up-his-ass, shoved past Omi and exited the room.
Ken glanced up as his door opened once more. He was sitting at his windowsill, staring out blankly, fresh tear trails staining his cheeks. He was tired. Oh so dreadfully tired, and a fresh round of sobbing had assured his drowsiness. It took a couple moments to realize that the intruder was Aya.
"Aya..."
The fellow assassin said nothing.
"Aya... I'm so sorry." Ken lowered his gaze towards the ground, "I had no right to speak how I did. I know your sister means the world to you. I need to control my anger. I shouldn't have said those nasty words, nor even made such a reference. You're right. Family is more important, I guess."
"No."
"Nani?" he glanced up sharply.
"I'm wrong. Yes, family is important, but if you have no family to care for, than friendship is the next best thing. That girl is your friend, Ken, and you had a right to act the way you did."
"But I went overboard!"
"Yes. You did. But your anger is at fault, not you. I myself would have said similar things if I was in your current situation."
"So.. I'm forgiven?"
"Hai. Though I expect better from you Hidaka."
"Gomen nasai... I just don't know what to do any more. I can't find any clues as to where she may have vanished to. Nothing at all."
"Ask Kritiker."
"I already did. Manx said they couldn't find anything either."
"Then-" Ayas words were cut off by a sharp yell from downstairs:
"Ayakun! Kenkun! Manx is here1 Mission!"
Ken stood shakily and headed for his door, pausing infront of Aya, "Then what?"
"Then try harder. And don't loose hope. If you do, you'll never find her."
---***---
"So Manx, why so late at night?" Yohji was yawning loudly, for he had gone to bed, and was rudely awakened by Omi to come downstairs for a mission briefing.
"Because I felt like waking you up." She smirked haughtily at Yohji, "An assassin shouldn't need much sleep."
"Bullshit. We're humans you know."
"Ah. But the other three aren't as tired as you are."
"Thats because none of them spend their days exhaustingly serving beautiful women."
"Serving them what? Your dazzling charm?"
"Of course."
Omi rolled his eyes at Manx and Yohji's conversation and interrupted with a cough, "Can we get this over with?"
"Of course."
And so the tape was cued.
---***---
Sarah had adjuested well, if that was even possible. She spent her nights in Farfarello's room, where he had crafted a bed for her out of a very fluffy comforter and a heavy blanket. No pillow, but she made due. She had been pleasantly surprised two or so days earlier, when Schuldig had come home with a bag of girl clothes he had purchased just for her. There were two sweaters, two t-shirts, a tank top, a pair of shorts, a pair of pants, and a skirt.
Needless to say, she had been overjoyed. Until then she had had to put up with Nagis clothes, which didn't really suit her. Schuldig had been quite surprised when the weak, and battered little girl had almost knocked him over in happiness.
Farfarello hadn't done much lately. No. Brad had him hanging from the ceiling in his contraption thing quite often, so he didn't have much time to 'play' with her, much to Sarah's relief. There was that one night though, when she woke up to find him bent over her.
She had gone to scream, but he had clamped his hand tightly over her mouth and silence her. They spent nearly an hour in that position, her heart racing, his one golden eye staring, unblinking.
Other than that, she was fine. The cuts on her arm were healing, thanks to Nagi's constant care. She was allowed full roam of the house, and had tried to escape several times, the tattling of the bells giving her position away. She had been caught atleast once by every member of the household.
Finally, the female resigned herself into waiting for a while. Despite her deep hatred towards Crawford, and her intense fear of Farfarello, life there wasn't so bad.
It was dark, and once again, only a lamp illuminated Farfarello's room. She was sitting upon her make-shift bed, for she had been locked in the room for quite some time. All four members of the household had left several hours ago, and had yet to return.
No. Wait. She thought she heard voices.
The soft click of the door handle indicated that it had been unlocked. It opened, and Farfarello entered, closing it behind him. She heard no indication of it being locked behind him, and was unsure as to whether or not that was a bad thing.
He stood there for quite some time, perhaps nearly ten minutes, without even a twitch of a muscle. Hesitantly, she stood and took a step forward towards him, "You ok?"
Anger. Hate. The intense will to destroy.
Hands raised to block the punch before it came, and she stumbled back from the blow, causing her defense to faulter. His next blow caught her jaw and starts exploded. She was vaguely aware of falling to her knees, and his tight grip slamming her to the ground.
Her jaw had been dislocated, and with a forceful jerk, he reset it, causing another wave of nauseating pain. Her own hands sought to shove him off as she felt a gag wind it's way through her teeth.
No! They wouldn't be able to rescue her! They wouldn't be able to hear her screams!
Her own balled fist connected quarely with his nose, and her eyes widened at the lack of reaction. Her head swam with pain, and confusion.
Anger!
He had her pinned on her chest, her back upwards, her head shoved into the painfully cold floor. His knees pinned her arms down, and his rear was planted firmly on her own. She couldn't move. No matter the struggle, no matter what she did, no sound escaped her clothed mouth, and no movement escaped her quivering brawns. She was trapped.
The sound of ripping fabric caught her ears, as her newly bought tank top was shredded and tossed aside. She tensed immediately, for her upper body was exposed, with the exception of her bra and nothing else.
Of course, what immediately came to her mind was clearly not at all on his.
The searing white hot pain first cut into her right shoulder blade, and was delicately traced downwards and back up, a loop to her other shoulder blade. Tears sprang to her eyes, screams emitted and muffled dully. She was helpless, utterly helpless, as the berserker made good use of his knives, creating quite a war scene across her pale hide.
It seemed to drag on for endless hours, each new cut a dazzling blast of fresh agony. Her back was slick with blood, dozens of gashes swelling forth the vital substance. She was sluggish, only the intense adrenaline rushing through her veins keeping her from passing out from blood loss.
Her tears still persisted in pooling upon the blood soaked floor.
Finally, she felt the pressure slack, and his body move off of hers. She found relief enough to relax, only to have her body once again seize up in rigid fear as he turned her over on to her back, and slammed a knee forcefully into her stomach.
She lost all air.
As she fought to snare it back, she caught sight of his blood shot orb, her own hazel optics twitching in fear. One of his pale hands viciously snapped the gag away, causing irritation of her rapidly bruising jaw. His hand merely replaced it as a temporary block, even managing to cover her nose.
She couldn't breath!
Try as she might, no oxygen could make it to her collapsed lungs. She twitched helplessly upon an injured backside, his knees pinning her arms once more, his blood slick digits lowering the thin dagger to her face.
He began to carve once more.
On the left side of her face, starting from the eye and slowly crossing downwards, he cut a vertical line to her chin. Then from the ear to the nose, he slashed a horizontal line, thus creating a cross.
Salty tears stung his new creation, as she fought against her failing brain. She needed oxygen.
His own scarred face lowered to hers, and his greedy tongue traced the newly outlined cross, mingling fresh saliva with newly pouring blood.
And he released her.
Air!
She sucked it in with quick pleasure, filling her lungs to the breaking point as he rolled off of her and came to a stand. She was shaky, limbs barely working, but she managed to pull herself into a standing position, nearly collapsing along the way.
He pointed towards the door.
"Go."
She needed no further encouragement.
With the laughter of the tinkling bells of hell, she fled, out the door and to the closest one she could think of.
Schuldig lunged to his feet as his door slammed open and revealed the hard breathing girl. Azure occuli widened as he took the sight in, the topless, blood strewn and sobbing female.
She stumbled across the room, instantly latching onto his waist as her trembling figurine fell into his own. His digits touched her back, coming away blood soaked.
He had no time to say anything. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. All thoughts of courage, strength, bravery, happiness, or in his case, cockiness, fled him. Not all at once, but he could feel them slowly seeping away. His body quivered with the energy drain, and shivered with insecurity.
Her tears stopped.
"What in the hell!?" His own arms managed to pry her off of him and shove her away, instantly severing whatever link had been drainging him of his courageous emotions. He felt them flood back, and his eyes narrowed at the trembling, and balled up nymphet.
She had begun to cry anew.
Unsteady on his feet, he had to grasp the side of his desk as he found himself able to glower at her cowering form.
"What the fuck are you?"
---***---(TBC)
Horrible. Just horrible. Oh well. Review! :P
WARNINGS: Extremely blood and graphic near the end. Prepare yourself. And slight Ken oocness. :P
---***--- Chapter 5: Elegy ---***---
"Ken! Ken!" Omi was shaking the older male profusedly, trying to wake the soccer player from his nightmare induced sleep.
Bronzed occuli shot open, and Ken yelped, tumbling off his bed and landing with a hard thump upon the ground, smacking his head roughly into the floorboards. It left him stunned and confused, and when he didn't move, Omi instantly kneeled by his side, whimpering out his appologies.
"It's ok Omi. Really." With a groan, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, hand to his throbbing head.
"I heard you yelling, so I came to investigate. You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?"
"Hai. Arigato Omi. Go back to bed. No need to worry about me."
"Are you sure?"
"Hai."
The teen hurriedly plastered on a forced and worried smile, before exiting the room swiftly. He was rather unnerved by the nightmares Ken was having lately.
***Flashback***
"Demo...Kenkun! It's been a week! You have no leads! Nothing to go by!"
"I can't just idly sit around while she's out there somewhere, probably frightened to death!" The chocolate haired male snarled, furiously pacing the room.
"Kenkun....For all you know, she could be dead...."
"She's not."
"How do you know?"
Their eyes darted to see Aya standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glare situated upon his frozen facade, "Your obsession over this girl is interfering with your ability to work. I suggest you let it go."
"You son of a bitch!" Ken instantly had his fingers wrapped around a portion of Aya's bright orange sweater, and he slammed the redhead against the wall, vicious brown occuli meeting the calm, cool depths of amethyst.
"Kenkun!"
"As if your obsession over your damn sister doesn't do the same to you! Don't you fucking talk about work Aya. You've purposely disobeyed missions before, just to try and get your damn revenge. Atleast you know that she's safe and sound!"
He didn't even see the punch coming.
"KEN!" Omi yelled, as the brown haired athlete fell back, blood spewing from a busted lip and a smashed nose.
Aya had his hands clenched so tightly that they drew blood. For once, the stoic redhead decided to speak more than just a few words, "My sister means the world to me. Family relations are far more important than some girl that you met a yet ago."
"How can you differentiate family from friend? I have no family to latch on to! She's one of my closest friends. She's just as close as family. Don't you fucking tell me thats she's less important than some vegetable girl!"
Ken knew he had crossed the line at that statement. The soccer player was never so verbal. Never so loud. Never so....agressive or mean, but he was known for small tendencies to blow his top, and the stress of loosing someone dear had taken it's toll on him.
Aya was on him in a second.
By the time the entire encounter was over, ended only by the fact that Yohji managed to subdue Aya long enough for Omi to get Ken safely to his room.
As soon as Yohji let go, Aya left the store immediately, and didn't come back until morning, when Omi was busy making breakfast for no one. He said nothing, and merely wandered to his room, slamming the door behind him.
***END***
"Ayakun?" Omi tentatively knocked at the redheads door, surprised that after his second knock, the door opened, and the cold optics of his fellow team mate fell upon him.
"What?"
"Can I speak with you?"
"Fine." He opened the door wide enough for Omi to slip in, before shutting it behind him and leaning against it.
"Ayakun. Ken....Kenkun is just under a lot of stress. You two haven't spoken for the last two days. I... I've seen him crying at night, and I've heard him cursing himself for being such a jackass. I think you should talk to him. I'm sure he's incredibly sorry for what he said and did."
"No."
"But Ayakun! Kenkun has lost someone too! And it's much worse than your situation, because he has no clue where she is, or if she's even alive. Can't you understand how awful he must feel? Wouldn't you act the same way if your sister was taken from you, and you had no leads to finding her?"
"Hn."
Omi could see a flicker of emotion radiating in his pupils. He was beginning to break.
"I'm sure you've seen Sarahsan around Ken before. Didn't you notice how much he smiled then? How much he laughed? They were best friends, as I'm sure you and your sister were. You may have lost her to a coma, but she has a chance of waking up, and even if she doesn't, she's always within reach, and you can always be with her. Kens situation is different. He can't do those things. He can't see her to reassure himself that she is ok. He doesn't know where she is, and I'm sure that he feels she may be dead, no matter how much he denies it. You two are in similar situations. Please. Talk to him. I'm sure he could use some help right about now."
"Fine."
The male, otherwise known as mr-stick-lodged-firmly-up-his-ass, shoved past Omi and exited the room.
Ken glanced up as his door opened once more. He was sitting at his windowsill, staring out blankly, fresh tear trails staining his cheeks. He was tired. Oh so dreadfully tired, and a fresh round of sobbing had assured his drowsiness. It took a couple moments to realize that the intruder was Aya.
"Aya..."
The fellow assassin said nothing.
"Aya... I'm so sorry." Ken lowered his gaze towards the ground, "I had no right to speak how I did. I know your sister means the world to you. I need to control my anger. I shouldn't have said those nasty words, nor even made such a reference. You're right. Family is more important, I guess."
"No."
"Nani?" he glanced up sharply.
"I'm wrong. Yes, family is important, but if you have no family to care for, than friendship is the next best thing. That girl is your friend, Ken, and you had a right to act the way you did."
"But I went overboard!"
"Yes. You did. But your anger is at fault, not you. I myself would have said similar things if I was in your current situation."
"So.. I'm forgiven?"
"Hai. Though I expect better from you Hidaka."
"Gomen nasai... I just don't know what to do any more. I can't find any clues as to where she may have vanished to. Nothing at all."
"Ask Kritiker."
"I already did. Manx said they couldn't find anything either."
"Then-" Ayas words were cut off by a sharp yell from downstairs:
"Ayakun! Kenkun! Manx is here1 Mission!"
Ken stood shakily and headed for his door, pausing infront of Aya, "Then what?"
"Then try harder. And don't loose hope. If you do, you'll never find her."
---***---
"So Manx, why so late at night?" Yohji was yawning loudly, for he had gone to bed, and was rudely awakened by Omi to come downstairs for a mission briefing.
"Because I felt like waking you up." She smirked haughtily at Yohji, "An assassin shouldn't need much sleep."
"Bullshit. We're humans you know."
"Ah. But the other three aren't as tired as you are."
"Thats because none of them spend their days exhaustingly serving beautiful women."
"Serving them what? Your dazzling charm?"
"Of course."
Omi rolled his eyes at Manx and Yohji's conversation and interrupted with a cough, "Can we get this over with?"
"Of course."
And so the tape was cued.
---***---
Sarah had adjuested well, if that was even possible. She spent her nights in Farfarello's room, where he had crafted a bed for her out of a very fluffy comforter and a heavy blanket. No pillow, but she made due. She had been pleasantly surprised two or so days earlier, when Schuldig had come home with a bag of girl clothes he had purchased just for her. There were two sweaters, two t-shirts, a tank top, a pair of shorts, a pair of pants, and a skirt.
Needless to say, she had been overjoyed. Until then she had had to put up with Nagis clothes, which didn't really suit her. Schuldig had been quite surprised when the weak, and battered little girl had almost knocked him over in happiness.
Farfarello hadn't done much lately. No. Brad had him hanging from the ceiling in his contraption thing quite often, so he didn't have much time to 'play' with her, much to Sarah's relief. There was that one night though, when she woke up to find him bent over her.
She had gone to scream, but he had clamped his hand tightly over her mouth and silence her. They spent nearly an hour in that position, her heart racing, his one golden eye staring, unblinking.
Other than that, she was fine. The cuts on her arm were healing, thanks to Nagi's constant care. She was allowed full roam of the house, and had tried to escape several times, the tattling of the bells giving her position away. She had been caught atleast once by every member of the household.
Finally, the female resigned herself into waiting for a while. Despite her deep hatred towards Crawford, and her intense fear of Farfarello, life there wasn't so bad.
It was dark, and once again, only a lamp illuminated Farfarello's room. She was sitting upon her make-shift bed, for she had been locked in the room for quite some time. All four members of the household had left several hours ago, and had yet to return.
No. Wait. She thought she heard voices.
The soft click of the door handle indicated that it had been unlocked. It opened, and Farfarello entered, closing it behind him. She heard no indication of it being locked behind him, and was unsure as to whether or not that was a bad thing.
He stood there for quite some time, perhaps nearly ten minutes, without even a twitch of a muscle. Hesitantly, she stood and took a step forward towards him, "You ok?"
Anger. Hate. The intense will to destroy.
Hands raised to block the punch before it came, and she stumbled back from the blow, causing her defense to faulter. His next blow caught her jaw and starts exploded. She was vaguely aware of falling to her knees, and his tight grip slamming her to the ground.
Her jaw had been dislocated, and with a forceful jerk, he reset it, causing another wave of nauseating pain. Her own hands sought to shove him off as she felt a gag wind it's way through her teeth.
No! They wouldn't be able to rescue her! They wouldn't be able to hear her screams!
Her own balled fist connected quarely with his nose, and her eyes widened at the lack of reaction. Her head swam with pain, and confusion.
Anger!
He had her pinned on her chest, her back upwards, her head shoved into the painfully cold floor. His knees pinned her arms down, and his rear was planted firmly on her own. She couldn't move. No matter the struggle, no matter what she did, no sound escaped her clothed mouth, and no movement escaped her quivering brawns. She was trapped.
The sound of ripping fabric caught her ears, as her newly bought tank top was shredded and tossed aside. She tensed immediately, for her upper body was exposed, with the exception of her bra and nothing else.
Of course, what immediately came to her mind was clearly not at all on his.
The searing white hot pain first cut into her right shoulder blade, and was delicately traced downwards and back up, a loop to her other shoulder blade. Tears sprang to her eyes, screams emitted and muffled dully. She was helpless, utterly helpless, as the berserker made good use of his knives, creating quite a war scene across her pale hide.
It seemed to drag on for endless hours, each new cut a dazzling blast of fresh agony. Her back was slick with blood, dozens of gashes swelling forth the vital substance. She was sluggish, only the intense adrenaline rushing through her veins keeping her from passing out from blood loss.
Her tears still persisted in pooling upon the blood soaked floor.
Finally, she felt the pressure slack, and his body move off of hers. She found relief enough to relax, only to have her body once again seize up in rigid fear as he turned her over on to her back, and slammed a knee forcefully into her stomach.
She lost all air.
As she fought to snare it back, she caught sight of his blood shot orb, her own hazel optics twitching in fear. One of his pale hands viciously snapped the gag away, causing irritation of her rapidly bruising jaw. His hand merely replaced it as a temporary block, even managing to cover her nose.
She couldn't breath!
Try as she might, no oxygen could make it to her collapsed lungs. She twitched helplessly upon an injured backside, his knees pinning her arms once more, his blood slick digits lowering the thin dagger to her face.
He began to carve once more.
On the left side of her face, starting from the eye and slowly crossing downwards, he cut a vertical line to her chin. Then from the ear to the nose, he slashed a horizontal line, thus creating a cross.
Salty tears stung his new creation, as she fought against her failing brain. She needed oxygen.
His own scarred face lowered to hers, and his greedy tongue traced the newly outlined cross, mingling fresh saliva with newly pouring blood.
And he released her.
Air!
She sucked it in with quick pleasure, filling her lungs to the breaking point as he rolled off of her and came to a stand. She was shaky, limbs barely working, but she managed to pull herself into a standing position, nearly collapsing along the way.
He pointed towards the door.
"Go."
She needed no further encouragement.
With the laughter of the tinkling bells of hell, she fled, out the door and to the closest one she could think of.
Schuldig lunged to his feet as his door slammed open and revealed the hard breathing girl. Azure occuli widened as he took the sight in, the topless, blood strewn and sobbing female.
She stumbled across the room, instantly latching onto his waist as her trembling figurine fell into his own. His digits touched her back, coming away blood soaked.
He had no time to say anything. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. All thoughts of courage, strength, bravery, happiness, or in his case, cockiness, fled him. Not all at once, but he could feel them slowly seeping away. His body quivered with the energy drain, and shivered with insecurity.
Her tears stopped.
"What in the hell!?" His own arms managed to pry her off of him and shove her away, instantly severing whatever link had been drainging him of his courageous emotions. He felt them flood back, and his eyes narrowed at the trembling, and balled up nymphet.
She had begun to cry anew.
Unsteady on his feet, he had to grasp the side of his desk as he found himself able to glower at her cowering form.
"What the fuck are you?"
---***---(TBC)
Horrible. Just horrible. Oh well. Review! :P