Disclaimer: Fox logos, the LXG trademarks and characters do not belong to me. I make no profit from this venture, the folklore/ghosts stem from Black Hart Storytellers and Meercat Tours.
Author's Notes: I need to watch this; it's taking over my life...
I will be apologising in advance now for the incredibly long time between updates, but alas, the exams are now upon me (my first on June 18th) and I will take revision as the utmost priority. After the 30th it's green light all the way baby...
Once again, individual shouts at the end.
Shards
Chapter Five: If I an ordinary nothing were,
She wakes in pain. Nerves rubbed raw by the bright light, the antiseptic stench, the coldness of the floor beneath her. Too much sensation.
Skinner is there: white greasepaint smeared, hovering above her, mouth turned down in a theatrical mask expression of worry.
"Are you awake? Mina, are you alright? What is it? Are you hurt?"
"I'm—" she begins and her voice is higher, a girlish alto. And she realises.
She is not alright. She is better than alright, and at the same time, horribly, horribly afraid.
Skinner is almost hysterical at her pause; he clutches at her hand with a fierce terror. She realises that, despite the fact he is not wearing gloves, his hand is visible- a faint ghostly outline like a reflection in glass.
"I'm human." She states, and it takes a while to sink in. A moment of looking at the white ceiling before sitting up recognising the warmth in her skin; the itch of her eyes as the gaslight burns, the antiseptic smell which cloys her mouth, the throb of the Nautilus expanding in her ears...
"And I'm visible, Jesus, Mina!" There is a note of happiness, even in the terror. "What have they done? What happened?"
She stands up, slowly, heavily and sees her reflection.
"God almighty, how?" Skinner continues, examining his hands where he kneels on the floor, "I'm almost visible, you can see me, right?"
She looks at him, ghostly colour making him visible. But she feels distant. There is no more sense of his body heat, or his smell; she can no longer see his heart burning in his chest, his blood moving like lava; she can no longer feel power in her limbs or the breaking of her skin when she changes shape; or the itch in her mouth when her teeth expand or the burn of blood in her vision.
She can however see herself in the mirror. A shock. She hasn't seen her reflection for some time now.
"They've taken us..." she begins and the eyes of her reflection widen, "Oh god, oh god god..." It is there, horror, burning in the pit of her stomach. Time slows. She freezes.
He watches her intensely for a moment then he stands suddenly; arms coming up to protectively bracket her as she reels from the enormity of it all.
"No! They've taken us, they've taken what makes us strong, different—they've been planning this—destroy us but not by killing us—"
She is panicked, frantic, swooning and grasping at Skinner's arms.
"We're just normal, we're just human..."
"Mina, stop!" Skinner clutches at her tightly. It is sudden pain and strength against which she has no defence.
He waits and in the silence her breathing slows, her eyes focus on him—huge with fear. "It doesn't matter! It never mattered!" He states, eyes wide, and she knows he's trying to convince her as much as he's trying to convince himself.
It's knowing that they've taken her, which makes her sick, dizzy. In the darkness, full of noises, whispers, part of her was stolen.
She groans, and feels her face twist. "Of course it matters—" She almost retches at the terrible emptiness inside and the abrasion against her skin of her new senses: the gaslight is too bright; her skin smells antiseptic and warm.
"No," Skinner repeats, emphatic, "No it doesn't. We were not defined by our abilities. You're still capable—"
"Of what? I'm not even capable of voting, let alone fighting this—" There is hysteria in her voice which she can't clamp down and control. She feels she is spiralling, falling away.
She hears desperation when he continues: "You are! You still can! It doesn't matter; look at Sawyer: A little boy out of his league, he still fights, he still—"
"They've taken the one thing that made me qualified! What am I to do now? Brew up potions? Act the nurse?!" She breaks away and gestures to the men lying unconscious on the tables. "It can see you! I can't fight it—we're sitting targets—it's not long before this thing takes advantage and—!"
She watches him stagger in fear, eyes shooting towards the bandages on the patients. Her vulnerability seems all the more terrifying when she realises that he cannot help her. She is now a woman alone; they are all just as vulnerable, alone and damaged.
She feels sudden rage, anger boiling up, mixing with the fear and threatening to choke her.
She swoops, hair and skirts tangling in the sudden movement, grabbing the first thing that comes to hand.
She throws the chair at the mirror with incredible effort; it fractures into shards.
It doesn't change anything though.
"Are you alright?" Sawyer is wide-eyed, blonde hair in disarray, anxiously hovering over Jekyll, who sits with his head clutched in his hands.
Nemo doesn't look much better; he's pacing around the room as if he's a caged tiger. Skinner can see he is almost ash grey with fatigue, Jacobs sits on his seat, completely immobile. Skinner would think he were dead if he couldn't see the rise and fall of his chest.
"Are you?" responds Skinner, "Because we're not sure what we are."
Nemo's eyes focus on both Skinner and Mina with frightening intensity.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Mina's..." Skinner begins, and realises there is no word to describe the enormity of what has happened, what they are now.
"I am no longer a vampire." She finishes for him, "And Mr Skinner is no longer entirely invisible."
Nemo doesn't seem that staggered by this piece of news, however, and Skinner realises this is a bad sign.
"What? What is it?" He asks, the dread that already filled his stomach expanding to press against his ribcage.
Nemo shoots Jekyll a look before beginning.
"Dr Jekyll collapsed—"
A pause.
"It would seem that—"
And Skinner realises. "It's Hyde isn't it?"
Mina's hand tightens on his arm, Sawyer shifts uncomfortably and Nemo doesn't break eye contact, not once and his eyes are burning.
Jekyll doesn't move.
There is a horrible silence.
"And you?" Skinner finally states, feeling the need to break the stillness. His voice is strangely thick. He doesn't recognise it as his own.
"Mr Sawyer and I feel—weakened." Nemo responds
"Sapped." States Sawyer. "We reckon it already had Hyde because he's always been trapped in the mirrors and as for the rest of us—"
He looks pointedly at Skinner.
"How?" Asks Mina.
"Ask him." Hisses Jekyll, and Skinner almost recoils from the terrible anger in his eyes as he raises his head and looks toward Jacobs.
Jacobs is so still. Too still. Eyes unfocussed and fixed on some distant point. If Skinner were to bet, he would wager that the little spell in the dark had knocked some terror into the pig-headed shit; perhaps too much for him to be of any use.
Sawyer shifts uncomfortably in his corner of the room; hating the silence, needing to fill it, eyes focussed all the time on Jacobs. "Nemo was correct—those things within the mirror have been released—Jacobs and the coven were experimenting and their spells released it." Skinner can hear pure fear in the rapid inflection.
"And our missing abilities?" He questions, "What happened?"
Another long pause, and in the silence Skinner watches Jekyll carefully. He's almost collapsed on the table, eyes bleary, and hands clutching at his head with a fierce desperation. He feels the same desperation seeping through his pores; hearing it seep into Sawyer's voice; watching it creep through Mina's stance...
It's been some time since he called his condition an 'ability', but here, watching Mina and Jekyll react, and feeling for himself as if he's lost a leg he needs to run away, he begins to recognise how vulnerable they are, how desperately normal.
Jacobs coughs. Skinner jumps at the sudden interruption.
"It has been gaining power somehow" begins Jacobs, and his voice is rasping, dull in the silence. "Whatever happened, you can assume it was able to take these things from you because it was able to make contact with you- to leave the confines of its prison..."
"You released it." States Mina, and there is a quiet bite to her voice. "And it's weakened us." Skinner can feel her clutching his arm with a weakness he didn't know she possessed.
"Yes, Mrs Harker. But as I've said to your colleagues there is no point in becoming angry with me—you'll need your strength to deal with this demon."
There is something sly, even amongst the anger in his tone. Skinner feels his hackles rise, anger as he realises what this man has done, has allowed to be done to them.
"And how exactly do you propose we 'deal with it'?" He asks, "We're sitting ducks thanks to you and your messing with things you didn't understand."
Jacobs sneers at him. "You won't need your—abilities—all you need is an exorcism."
It was the wrong thing to say Skinner will think in hindsight:
With a bang the Nautilus bucks. They are all thrown to the floor.
And with a scream, all around them, the glass comes alive.
Ohgodohgod is all he can seem to think.
In front of him Jekyll has overturned his chair in the scrabble; Mina and Skinner are clinging to each other, Skinner practically hauling her out of the room; Nemo has grabbed Jacobs by the shirt collar and has thrown him out of the door.
He makes to run, but time seems to be moving too fast and he moves slowly, so very slowly and he can feel unbearable heat on the back of his neck.
The floor beneath him seems to be shifting, moving, and at first he thinks it's the carpet, but the vibration is too deep.
The floor is twisting beneath his feet.
"Hurry! Hurry!" Nemo is bellowing at him, reaching out to grab Tom by the wrist.
But the room is growing, stretching in the infinite way nightmares have.
"Oh Jesus, Jesus—" he doesn't know who's saying it only knows that it's a desperate prayer against the things that are coming from around him.
He reaches out, scrabbling, clawing at the tips of Nemo's fingers that stretch further to grasp him by the wrist. He feels pulled through molasses as they run from the room.
He risks a look back, head turning in a slow, underwater cartwheel, and sees that it is no room. It's Hell. The walls are boiling masses of warped glass, stretching in glutton's arcs from the mirror which is a hole; somewhere to fall and never crawl out of. The metal has buckled and stretches in twisted screeches of sound.
He scrambles as fast as he can away, back. They are all clinging to each other, breathing together. The door shuts with a resounding slam.
But there is no respite. Around them the corridor comes alive.
Burning, exploding, Jekyll yells and they all stagger.
He's looking at them, moving too slowly as around him things spiral, but the thing that fixes in his mind is Mina's white, terrified face.
The portholes boil, reaching for them, and Sawyer feels his hair singeing in the heat, his skin beginning to burn as the claws twist the metal around them, stretching, grasping...
"Run! For god's sake—!" Mina is screaming and he does, faster, trailing the league behind him feeling them move in a protective oval; little scurrying ants.
The Nautilus is possessed, a screaming, hunching, groaning monstrosity; they are buried in the belly, being swallowed, digested.
He runs, he runs with them, panic searing through his heart.
Around him the walls are closing in and the doors are slamming with every new direction he tries, and water is beginning to soak through his shoes.
He can hear alarms echoing and Nemo shouting to his crew who move around them, flittering out of reach; all running, streaming away.
A tremendous wrench and he feels the metal beneath his feet tear. And the water falls around him now soaking him, spurting through the cracks like blood, wet, dark and salty.
Arms clamp around him and Skinner is there, pulling, Mina hauling him and Nemo shouting above it all: "Get to an escape pod! Get out! Get out now!" To anyone, crew, the league—
But beneath him the floor gives way and no matter how hard he clutches at the arms above him he is falling, mouth filling with burning water, lungs streaming in the dark as he screams.
He is falling down down down.
"Sawyer! Sawyer!" Skinner is practically screaming in desperation and Mina can feel tears streaming down her face, mixing with the water soaking her.
The floor is buckling, tearing, behind them the glass is boiling, fires are raging and ahead the Nautilus is tearing itself to shreds.
We are going to die, we are going to die, we are going to—
The floor gives another tremendous wrench.
She begins to fall, water swallowing her in a cold embrace.
Eyes closed tight, holding the breath, holding the screams.
There are arms with her in the dark, but no matter how hard she clings to them she is alone.
She doesn't even know if they are alive.
It is dark, she can no longer breathe, she feels heavy, she feels too much.
She is drowning.
TBC...
Shadow Darkholme: Why thank you! Lovely to hear from others!
Crystal: I love to leave you on the edge of your seat! That's the formula (which might get a bit repetitive if I don't watch it) cliff-hanger for every chapter. Glad you understand the 'dreams', but do you? Are you sure? Hmm.... BTW feel free to ramble, just so long as you realise you have to share him with me (I'm sure we can work out a rota...)
Funyun: Oh dear, I hate to distract you from good, honest work, but if you were born to read then you were born to write (it signifies your calling in life). Indeed, who are you kidding? I plan to do awful things with these characters, but before you shoot me I do love them, I really do! Nice guesswork, you and Keyanna are on the right tracks, keep going, all will become clear...
Funky in Fishnet: Why thank you! A pleasure to hear from someone who thinks of me so highly! I love Rest in Peace by the way, good, gripping start, update soon (or else I'll send these soulless things round after you and then you'll be sorry...)
Keyanna: You lovely intelligent stalker you! Just drop us a line anytime, it's always a pleasure to hear from you (I was a bit worried you'd abandoned me in the time between post and review...) Yes, demanding alas is not good at this point: exams Exams EXAMS!!! (Panic face). Love to hear you're playing the trailer game! (Bit spooky, you and I seem to be interested in the same things...)
Author's Notes: I need to watch this; it's taking over my life...
I will be apologising in advance now for the incredibly long time between updates, but alas, the exams are now upon me (my first on June 18th) and I will take revision as the utmost priority. After the 30th it's green light all the way baby...
Once again, individual shouts at the end.
Shards
Chapter Five: If I an ordinary nothing were,
She wakes in pain. Nerves rubbed raw by the bright light, the antiseptic stench, the coldness of the floor beneath her. Too much sensation.
Skinner is there: white greasepaint smeared, hovering above her, mouth turned down in a theatrical mask expression of worry.
"Are you awake? Mina, are you alright? What is it? Are you hurt?"
"I'm—" she begins and her voice is higher, a girlish alto. And she realises.
She is not alright. She is better than alright, and at the same time, horribly, horribly afraid.
Skinner is almost hysterical at her pause; he clutches at her hand with a fierce terror. She realises that, despite the fact he is not wearing gloves, his hand is visible- a faint ghostly outline like a reflection in glass.
"I'm human." She states, and it takes a while to sink in. A moment of looking at the white ceiling before sitting up recognising the warmth in her skin; the itch of her eyes as the gaslight burns, the antiseptic smell which cloys her mouth, the throb of the Nautilus expanding in her ears...
"And I'm visible, Jesus, Mina!" There is a note of happiness, even in the terror. "What have they done? What happened?"
She stands up, slowly, heavily and sees her reflection.
"God almighty, how?" Skinner continues, examining his hands where he kneels on the floor, "I'm almost visible, you can see me, right?"
She looks at him, ghostly colour making him visible. But she feels distant. There is no more sense of his body heat, or his smell; she can no longer see his heart burning in his chest, his blood moving like lava; she can no longer feel power in her limbs or the breaking of her skin when she changes shape; or the itch in her mouth when her teeth expand or the burn of blood in her vision.
She can however see herself in the mirror. A shock. She hasn't seen her reflection for some time now.
"They've taken us..." she begins and the eyes of her reflection widen, "Oh god, oh god god..." It is there, horror, burning in the pit of her stomach. Time slows. She freezes.
He watches her intensely for a moment then he stands suddenly; arms coming up to protectively bracket her as she reels from the enormity of it all.
"No! They've taken us, they've taken what makes us strong, different—they've been planning this—destroy us but not by killing us—"
She is panicked, frantic, swooning and grasping at Skinner's arms.
"We're just normal, we're just human..."
"Mina, stop!" Skinner clutches at her tightly. It is sudden pain and strength against which she has no defence.
He waits and in the silence her breathing slows, her eyes focus on him—huge with fear. "It doesn't matter! It never mattered!" He states, eyes wide, and she knows he's trying to convince her as much as he's trying to convince himself.
It's knowing that they've taken her, which makes her sick, dizzy. In the darkness, full of noises, whispers, part of her was stolen.
She groans, and feels her face twist. "Of course it matters—" She almost retches at the terrible emptiness inside and the abrasion against her skin of her new senses: the gaslight is too bright; her skin smells antiseptic and warm.
"No," Skinner repeats, emphatic, "No it doesn't. We were not defined by our abilities. You're still capable—"
"Of what? I'm not even capable of voting, let alone fighting this—" There is hysteria in her voice which she can't clamp down and control. She feels she is spiralling, falling away.
She hears desperation when he continues: "You are! You still can! It doesn't matter; look at Sawyer: A little boy out of his league, he still fights, he still—"
"They've taken the one thing that made me qualified! What am I to do now? Brew up potions? Act the nurse?!" She breaks away and gestures to the men lying unconscious on the tables. "It can see you! I can't fight it—we're sitting targets—it's not long before this thing takes advantage and—!"
She watches him stagger in fear, eyes shooting towards the bandages on the patients. Her vulnerability seems all the more terrifying when she realises that he cannot help her. She is now a woman alone; they are all just as vulnerable, alone and damaged.
She feels sudden rage, anger boiling up, mixing with the fear and threatening to choke her.
She swoops, hair and skirts tangling in the sudden movement, grabbing the first thing that comes to hand.
She throws the chair at the mirror with incredible effort; it fractures into shards.
It doesn't change anything though.
"Are you alright?" Sawyer is wide-eyed, blonde hair in disarray, anxiously hovering over Jekyll, who sits with his head clutched in his hands.
Nemo doesn't look much better; he's pacing around the room as if he's a caged tiger. Skinner can see he is almost ash grey with fatigue, Jacobs sits on his seat, completely immobile. Skinner would think he were dead if he couldn't see the rise and fall of his chest.
"Are you?" responds Skinner, "Because we're not sure what we are."
Nemo's eyes focus on both Skinner and Mina with frightening intensity.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Mina's..." Skinner begins, and realises there is no word to describe the enormity of what has happened, what they are now.
"I am no longer a vampire." She finishes for him, "And Mr Skinner is no longer entirely invisible."
Nemo doesn't seem that staggered by this piece of news, however, and Skinner realises this is a bad sign.
"What? What is it?" He asks, the dread that already filled his stomach expanding to press against his ribcage.
Nemo shoots Jekyll a look before beginning.
"Dr Jekyll collapsed—"
A pause.
"It would seem that—"
And Skinner realises. "It's Hyde isn't it?"
Mina's hand tightens on his arm, Sawyer shifts uncomfortably and Nemo doesn't break eye contact, not once and his eyes are burning.
Jekyll doesn't move.
There is a horrible silence.
"And you?" Skinner finally states, feeling the need to break the stillness. His voice is strangely thick. He doesn't recognise it as his own.
"Mr Sawyer and I feel—weakened." Nemo responds
"Sapped." States Sawyer. "We reckon it already had Hyde because he's always been trapped in the mirrors and as for the rest of us—"
He looks pointedly at Skinner.
"How?" Asks Mina.
"Ask him." Hisses Jekyll, and Skinner almost recoils from the terrible anger in his eyes as he raises his head and looks toward Jacobs.
Jacobs is so still. Too still. Eyes unfocussed and fixed on some distant point. If Skinner were to bet, he would wager that the little spell in the dark had knocked some terror into the pig-headed shit; perhaps too much for him to be of any use.
Sawyer shifts uncomfortably in his corner of the room; hating the silence, needing to fill it, eyes focussed all the time on Jacobs. "Nemo was correct—those things within the mirror have been released—Jacobs and the coven were experimenting and their spells released it." Skinner can hear pure fear in the rapid inflection.
"And our missing abilities?" He questions, "What happened?"
Another long pause, and in the silence Skinner watches Jekyll carefully. He's almost collapsed on the table, eyes bleary, and hands clutching at his head with a fierce desperation. He feels the same desperation seeping through his pores; hearing it seep into Sawyer's voice; watching it creep through Mina's stance...
It's been some time since he called his condition an 'ability', but here, watching Mina and Jekyll react, and feeling for himself as if he's lost a leg he needs to run away, he begins to recognise how vulnerable they are, how desperately normal.
Jacobs coughs. Skinner jumps at the sudden interruption.
"It has been gaining power somehow" begins Jacobs, and his voice is rasping, dull in the silence. "Whatever happened, you can assume it was able to take these things from you because it was able to make contact with you- to leave the confines of its prison..."
"You released it." States Mina, and there is a quiet bite to her voice. "And it's weakened us." Skinner can feel her clutching his arm with a weakness he didn't know she possessed.
"Yes, Mrs Harker. But as I've said to your colleagues there is no point in becoming angry with me—you'll need your strength to deal with this demon."
There is something sly, even amongst the anger in his tone. Skinner feels his hackles rise, anger as he realises what this man has done, has allowed to be done to them.
"And how exactly do you propose we 'deal with it'?" He asks, "We're sitting ducks thanks to you and your messing with things you didn't understand."
Jacobs sneers at him. "You won't need your—abilities—all you need is an exorcism."
It was the wrong thing to say Skinner will think in hindsight:
With a bang the Nautilus bucks. They are all thrown to the floor.
And with a scream, all around them, the glass comes alive.
Ohgodohgod is all he can seem to think.
In front of him Jekyll has overturned his chair in the scrabble; Mina and Skinner are clinging to each other, Skinner practically hauling her out of the room; Nemo has grabbed Jacobs by the shirt collar and has thrown him out of the door.
He makes to run, but time seems to be moving too fast and he moves slowly, so very slowly and he can feel unbearable heat on the back of his neck.
The floor beneath him seems to be shifting, moving, and at first he thinks it's the carpet, but the vibration is too deep.
The floor is twisting beneath his feet.
"Hurry! Hurry!" Nemo is bellowing at him, reaching out to grab Tom by the wrist.
But the room is growing, stretching in the infinite way nightmares have.
"Oh Jesus, Jesus—" he doesn't know who's saying it only knows that it's a desperate prayer against the things that are coming from around him.
He reaches out, scrabbling, clawing at the tips of Nemo's fingers that stretch further to grasp him by the wrist. He feels pulled through molasses as they run from the room.
He risks a look back, head turning in a slow, underwater cartwheel, and sees that it is no room. It's Hell. The walls are boiling masses of warped glass, stretching in glutton's arcs from the mirror which is a hole; somewhere to fall and never crawl out of. The metal has buckled and stretches in twisted screeches of sound.
He scrambles as fast as he can away, back. They are all clinging to each other, breathing together. The door shuts with a resounding slam.
But there is no respite. Around them the corridor comes alive.
Burning, exploding, Jekyll yells and they all stagger.
He's looking at them, moving too slowly as around him things spiral, but the thing that fixes in his mind is Mina's white, terrified face.
The portholes boil, reaching for them, and Sawyer feels his hair singeing in the heat, his skin beginning to burn as the claws twist the metal around them, stretching, grasping...
"Run! For god's sake—!" Mina is screaming and he does, faster, trailing the league behind him feeling them move in a protective oval; little scurrying ants.
The Nautilus is possessed, a screaming, hunching, groaning monstrosity; they are buried in the belly, being swallowed, digested.
He runs, he runs with them, panic searing through his heart.
Around him the walls are closing in and the doors are slamming with every new direction he tries, and water is beginning to soak through his shoes.
He can hear alarms echoing and Nemo shouting to his crew who move around them, flittering out of reach; all running, streaming away.
A tremendous wrench and he feels the metal beneath his feet tear. And the water falls around him now soaking him, spurting through the cracks like blood, wet, dark and salty.
Arms clamp around him and Skinner is there, pulling, Mina hauling him and Nemo shouting above it all: "Get to an escape pod! Get out! Get out now!" To anyone, crew, the league—
But beneath him the floor gives way and no matter how hard he clutches at the arms above him he is falling, mouth filling with burning water, lungs streaming in the dark as he screams.
He is falling down down down.
"Sawyer! Sawyer!" Skinner is practically screaming in desperation and Mina can feel tears streaming down her face, mixing with the water soaking her.
The floor is buckling, tearing, behind them the glass is boiling, fires are raging and ahead the Nautilus is tearing itself to shreds.
We are going to die, we are going to die, we are going to—
The floor gives another tremendous wrench.
She begins to fall, water swallowing her in a cold embrace.
Eyes closed tight, holding the breath, holding the screams.
There are arms with her in the dark, but no matter how hard she clings to them she is alone.
She doesn't even know if they are alive.
It is dark, she can no longer breathe, she feels heavy, she feels too much.
She is drowning.
TBC...
Shadow Darkholme: Why thank you! Lovely to hear from others!
Crystal: I love to leave you on the edge of your seat! That's the formula (which might get a bit repetitive if I don't watch it) cliff-hanger for every chapter. Glad you understand the 'dreams', but do you? Are you sure? Hmm.... BTW feel free to ramble, just so long as you realise you have to share him with me (I'm sure we can work out a rota...)
Funyun: Oh dear, I hate to distract you from good, honest work, but if you were born to read then you were born to write (it signifies your calling in life). Indeed, who are you kidding? I plan to do awful things with these characters, but before you shoot me I do love them, I really do! Nice guesswork, you and Keyanna are on the right tracks, keep going, all will become clear...
Funky in Fishnet: Why thank you! A pleasure to hear from someone who thinks of me so highly! I love Rest in Peace by the way, good, gripping start, update soon (or else I'll send these soulless things round after you and then you'll be sorry...)
Keyanna: You lovely intelligent stalker you! Just drop us a line anytime, it's always a pleasure to hear from you (I was a bit worried you'd abandoned me in the time between post and review...) Yes, demanding alas is not good at this point: exams Exams EXAMS!!! (Panic face). Love to hear you're playing the trailer game! (Bit spooky, you and I seem to be interested in the same things...)