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Chapter 3: Becoming Luciola (Part One)
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(Almost one year later.)
"One must understand rank intrinsically, and the positions and functions of all houses and lesser families. Now, let us begin again by reciting the four major houses, then the twelve minor houses, along with the names of each Prisus and Secondus. Below the minor houses we have the recognized families of Legionnaires. Then we shall proceed to the composition and importance of the Principal Council, which under the auspices of Her Celestial Majesty..."
Dio rested his cheek against his hand and sighed quietly. All of this was so boring, so horribly, dreadfully, painfully boring. Luric's toneless voice had a way of making dull things even more dull. Luric hadn't even seemed to notice that Dio had dozed off -twice- now.
Dio didn't dislike -all- of his classes. Flight Theory class was wonderful, even though they were -still- going over claudia manipulation. And in Combat class, Dio had already bested all of the other young Principals and nobles at Elementary Throwing and Grappling.
But, Guild History and Literature, ugh. Most of it didn't even make any sense. Some babble about a 'blue planet' and the 'dying yellow sun'. Half of the time, Ancient History sounded more like listening to Abeille chant to herself when she thought she was alone. And then, Prestel History... So many battles to memorize. So many laws. Dio wasn't sure anything more tedious existed in the world than memorizing laws and codes.
Next year, he'd be allowed to start learning Basic Military Tactics. Delphine promised that she would teach him -personally-. They'd go to watch human airship battles, and discuss their rudimentary tactics together. Nothing sounded more divine than getting to help Delphine, and perhaps be able to garner her praise for being such a quick learner.
"Dio-sama? Dio-sama?"
Dio blinked. How many times had Luric said his name? What was the question, again?"Dagobel?" Dio answered listlessly.
Characteristically, Luric didn't change expression. Luric pretty much always looked like he was grinding stones between his teeth. His broad jaw remained permanently clenched, and his brow was always slightly creased in either mild consternation, or the lingering paranoia that assassins might smash through the doors or windows at any moment and attempt to injure his charge.
The -only- time Luric had ever, to Dio's knowledge, changed expressions, was when Dio's Father had given Luric permission to continue the Gregor line. It was the ultimate blessing a master could bestow on a Legionnaire, that the particular servant had so pleased the master, children would be graciously accepted as servants of the master's family. At that moment, Luric had looked...mildly pleased."The Council of Principals sits in the Hall of Light," Luric continued monotonously, neither correcting Dio, nor pointing out that he should pay attention. What was Luric going to do? The six-year-old outranked him by miles and miles.
Dio tried -not- to sigh. Surely, surely, life wasn't -always- this terminally boring. He wondered if Delphine was having more fun right now. She'd been tracking down the members of the Rebel Houses and having them punished. Already, she'd caught half of Dagobel because they'd chosen to hide among the humans. A stupid move, of course. It wasn't like the humans could really protect the Dagobel Guilders from Delphine's wrath.
Less luck was to be found with capturing the rebel elements of House Bashianus. The House of Scientists had retreated to the glaciers beyond Dusis. Etoile fighters, which had been dispatched to scan the area, had not returned. Most officials speculated that the extreme temperatures of the region had caused the claudia manipulation units in the ships to freeze.
As for House Hamilton, they were still nowhere to be found. People were beginning to say that House Hamilton had disappeared off of the very face of Prestel.
Dio didn't really want revenge against the Rebel Houses. Not exactly. They just had to be punished because that was the way it was. You couldn't betray the Maestro and just get away with it. If people could do that sort of thing, then the Guild would just fall apart. At least, that's what Delphine had told Dio. And Delphine knew a lot more about these sorts of things than Dio did.
But, in a small way, Dio wondered if maybe the other Houses could just admit that they were wrong, and then maybe the entire Guild could be reunited once again. It certainly would take a lot of pressure off of Delphine. She wouldn't have to have so many meetings, or spend so much time away from Dio. Delphine was much more fun than listening to Luric drone on and on...
Though, really, what was the point in having the Rebel Houses say they were sorry if they weren't really sorry? And why would anyone want to betray the Guild, anyway? That's what Dio couldn't understand most of all.
Killing the Maestro was like trying to kill the Guild.
Why would anyone want to destroy the Guild?
It didn't make any sense at all. Not to Dio, anyway.
Oh well. He'd have to ask Delphine about it someday. Someday when he was really bored. Like, even more bored than right now.
Wait. More bored than right now?
Impossible.
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Seventeen. Tuck couldn't remember all of their names, but he remembered their faces well. Over the course of one year, seventeen other students had fallen to his blade. No. That wasn't quite true. He'd strangled several of them. Some with his hands, some with wire, and one with a length of rope.
There was nothing he could do about it. Tuck had learned quickly that to be in training meant to live each combat lesson as kill-or-be-killed. His opponents were trying to kill him, and therefore, he had to try to kill his opponents.
Other classes weren't much better. One slip, and the instructors were quick to whip any student. And, of those students who survived, some had mental breakdowns, thus proving them unfit for duty. Some had fits of crying, some started screaming, some just went catatonic. Tuck had no idea what happened to the mentally unstable students. They just disappeared, led off by the instructors, never to be seen again.
Tuck couldn't believe how many petitioning students there were at the Palace Legionnaire Academy. All of them were children of Legionnaire families. Most had been sent in the hopes that they could raise in status by serving in important positions at the Palace or on one of the House Mains. Many were orphans, having lost their parents in battles or by other means, who had no other choice in life.
Only a fraction of them ever survived the training.
Tuck did not know how long this training would continue. Since the day he'd arrived at the Palace, he'd never been spoken to by the Maestro again. Abeille occasionally came to check on Tuck's progress, but never had any information about when Delphine-sama might send for him, to present him to Dio-sama. Perhaps never. It seemed entirely possible that Maestro had completely forgotten about the "gift" she'd acquired for her brother.
Tuck bent down to let eighteenth body slid from his grasp. He put his fingers to the side of her neck before turning back towards the class with his hands behind his back. A girl this time. Tuck couldn't remember her name, but knew that she was a Pickering. So fast. Almost too fast to see. She almost had disemboweled him with that last move. The stab at his stomach would have been fatal. But, some sheer luck allowed him to slit her neck before she could strike the final blow.
Luck. Yes. It was just...luck. Lucky for Tuck.
Tuck remembered the first time he'd been ordered to kill one of the other students. Oh yes. He'd retched. He'd been whipped for retching, and for crying. The instructor had bellowed, "Why do you weep, Etele-kaja? You have won! Only the strongest can protect the Great Houses! What fool would cry at victory?"
But, every student cried the first time they killed. And every student was beaten with the whip for crying. Tuck understood now. One of his station could only ever merely hope to be useful. The weak ones would not be useful. If Tuck proved to be weak, he would not be of any use to Dio-sama. Then life would be utterly meaningless.
Tuck ignored the bleeding body in the dirt. His only mild remorse was that he did not remember her name. But, she had fought well, and her death had served to teach them all many things.
Especially Tuck.
"Etele-kaja. Please explain the tactics you used to dispatch your opponent."
Tuck bowed to the instructor and the class. The scent of blood began to fill the mock-arena where combat class was held.
"Although the Pickerings have lightning-fast reflexes, they are not built for prolonged combat. This may be because time limits on Etoile missions have caused them to become attuned to not conserving their strength. We are unsure. At any rate, one need only cause a Pickering to exert all her energy. She will then slow significantly. This is why I was able to get in the last blow."
Was it? Was that why he was still alive?
Tuck knew it was all a lie. He was merely making things up. Tuck should have, most definitely, died by that girl's blade.
"Correct." The instructor held up his hand to the class seated on the sidelines. "Learn well from Etele-kaja's actions. You are dismissed to your next class."
Tuck headed for the baths. He would need to clean his clothing and himself before heading to Etiquette class. As he passed a garbage unit, he thrust his hand inside, and dropped a tiny object into the pile of trash.
The student baths were not, by any means, unclean. But, they certainly weren't the grand chambers of sparkling water and polished marble afforded to nobles. All things provided to the students were of the most functional aesthetic. Simple lines, with no embellishments. The re-water purification systems for each shower unit looked like silver humps against the pristine white tile. Tuck took off his combat-training uniform and hung it neatly in the upright cleaner, an oval-shaped pod against the wall. Suits -could- clean themselves, to some degree, just as most Guild technology could, but the blood required extra care and sanitization.
Tuck went to stand next to one of the re-water units. The water came out at a precise and steady temperature calibrated against several factors, such as Tuck's size and age, heat conservation equations, and the necessity for purification cycles. The temperature never wavered by even a fraction of a degree. If anything, Guild technology relied on precision.
Tuck leaned his forehead against the tile for support. The odd sensation of coolness contrasted with the warm flow of water against his skin. One's body could be so whimsical, Tuck thought. So whimsical, in fact, that mere temperatures could evoke memories of others. Tuck had few memories of his parents, but he could recall someone bathing him in the rather putrid water afforded to the shipyard workers. Was it his mother who bathed him? His father? One of his brothers? Tuck couldn't remember. He just remembered the door being thrown open, and the angry voices that followed.
A brusquely mechanical voice stated, "Purification begun. Intake exhibits trace amounts of blood. Should the Medical Unit be contacted? Current response time for a Medical Technician is seventy-six seconds..."
"No," Tuck replied quietly to the computer, before reaching out to touch the panel which would shut off the audio feedback unit. Showers could be especially infuriating, talking endlessly whilst one tried to shake off the stink of death, the gloom of the past, and the stress of daily life.
"I wouldn't trust the Medical Units, anyway. They are all adjuncts of the traitorous House Hamilton. Thankfully, Maestro has some more loyal Technicians being trained as we speak," a familiar voice intoned from somewhere behind Tuck.
Tuck peeled his head from the tile, and turned around to find his elder brother watching him from the space between two upright cleaning pods.
"Cicada!" Tuck bit his lip before he blurted anything further. Then, remembering himself, he bowed. Cicada was not only his brother, but his superior. As he stared at the floor, water sluiced off of Tuck's naked limbs, and dripped from his bangs and chin. But, every drop was pulled, as if magnetically, towards the drain leading to the re-water purifier.
Nothing should be wasted. All which can be of use, should be made to be of use.
At least the water purification units -had- a use.
Cicada. He hadn't exactly coddled Tuck during this time of training. Over the past year, Tuck could remember seeing his brother less than a dozen times, and most of those were from a distance. Not that Tuck could really blame Cicada. Cicada was very important now. He'd made himself indispensable to Maestro Delphine. Who knew what massive percentage of Maestro's commands began with an utterance of Cicada's name? Many, to be sure.
Cicada clicked his fingernails together, as if trying to clean them of an obnoxious presence. His dark eyes stared at Tuck, into Tuck, and through Tuck. As for the naked boy in the shower, Tuck tried not to squirm. Cicada was scrutinizing him, Tuck knew, and it didn't help that Tuck had nothing with which to cover himself. He ended up focusing his gaze somewhere around Cicada's collar. Neither brother spoke.
In the garbled tongue of the Etele Legionnaires, a language used for assassination missions, this moment is known as "Kesfefa mi takarh. Sha torhular ri akitra." Loosely translated, it means, "Neither party will speak until the field of combat is surveyed."
"I watched your training battle," Cicada finally said, his words as punctual and brisk as a Dusis winter. "It is displeasing to see how little you have learned in a year."
"With respect, Elder Brother, did I not win?" Tuck found himself grinding his teeth. How odd it was, indeed, this feeling. To address his brother with such formality, and yet feel so strangely overjoyed that Cicada had even appeared, that Cicada had taken time just to speak to him... What was this feeling? Why was the mind so fickle that it wanted Cicada's approval?
"A victory by such luck is hardly a tactical accomplishment." Cicada's features grew only darker with this pronouncement, and he looked towards the door shiftily. "You've grown taller, yet you are still scrawny and weak. How revolting."
"I am not yet of an age where my features..."
Cicada lifted his hand to signify silence. "And your is etiquette astoundingly bad. I long feared that your time among the Lagolale had permanently damaged any chance you had for becoming a decent servant. I should have..." But, for once, Cicada held his tongue.
But, Tuck knew what his brother was going to say. Cicada wanted to say, "I should have left you at the shipyards." It didn't hurt Tuck to hear this. What hurt was not knowing if Cicada wanted to leave him behind because he was embarrassed by Tuck's ineptitude, because he simply hated to be bothered by his filial duties, or because he seriously and sincerely cared what happened to Tuck.
Not that the last option was very likely, nor did Tuck hope that it would be true. Nonetheless, he often wondered if maybe, just perhaps -maybe-, Cicada cared about him.
Tuck had long since realized that even if Cicada -did- care about him, it was probably something Cicada saw as a flaw in himself. Something Cicada saw as 'needing to be rectified'. Something Cicada probably tried, most fervently, to stop doing.
"Don't get killed," Cicada muttered abruptly as he pulled himself from against the wall and headed for the exit. His black-wrapped braid, the sign of his rank, bobbed like a cork in a whirlpool as he walked. "I do not have time to perform the requisite mourning rituals."
Tuck merely bowed at his brother's retreating back. "Yes, Cicada. I understand."
Tuck thought he did understand. He understood that, even though he never saw Cicada, his brother's presence loomed large over his life. He never interacted with his brother. Tuck was not praised or encouraged by him. Tuck sometimes believed that Cicada was trying to forget about Tuck's existence. Still, Cicada always seemed to be...nearby, somehow.
Everything about Cicada was a mystery to Tuck. What did Cicada want? Why didn't Cicada send him back to the shipyards? Was Cicada just bloodthirsty? Or, did Cicada actually believe in something, something which drove him to achieve all that he could in the service of the Maestro? Cicada, Tuck's closest family member, was as strange and foreign to Tuck as a Norikia vanship pilot might be.
And yet, somehow, Tuck just knew...
When extra bandages appeared under Tuck's pillow after he'd been injured in a fight...
When Tuck found extra food ration slips in a deserted hallway...
When a young Pickering combatant faltered in her final blow due to a tiny, almost invisible, paralyzing dart stuck in her neck...
It had something...
No, everything...
To do with Cicada.
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"My Dio..." Delphine smiled and held out her hand for her brother. My, how fast he was growing. How pretty. Such trusting eyes. Delphine could not calculate the worth of her brother in claudia. There was not enough on all of Prestel. Dio, her Dio, looked at her with more sincere worship than any Guilder. He adored her for more than her rank. He adored Delphine for Delphine.
So precious. She would most certainly protect him, mold him, and raise him to be the greatest Guilder in all of Prestel history. Their dynasty would leave a millennia's legacy upon this forsaken planet. She'd already made plans. And Delphine's plans were always flawless.
Dio took his sister's left hand and pressed it to his cheek. Her garden gloves were so silky and cool. They smelled of mint plants from Oglan. Delphine had an amazing brilliance when it came to the flora of Prestel. No one even taught her. She'd taught herself everything she knew about plant manipulation. Dio knew his sister was smart. Even smarter than the supposedly genius scientists of Bashianus or the wise philosophers and healers of Hamilton. Much more clever than the engineers of Dagobel!
"Delphine, it was so awful. Luric lectured for an extra hour and my foot fell asleep, and I thought for sure that I was just going to die from boredom..."
Delphine cast a look of disapproval at Luric. Not that she could really punish him for doing exactly what she told him to do. Nonetheless, the Imperial Tutor inclined his head in slight apology for his nonexistent infraction.
"Delphine! Delphine! Can I feed them? Your Synaga Eels? You promised that..."
So excited about everything. His excitement for the world was so infectious. So infectious, it made Delphine almost giddy, herself. How could she not give Dio the world? How could she deny him anything?
"Yes, you may feed them. Abeille! Bring the food. Sybene, Dio's gloves."
"Yes, Maestro." The two servants disappeared into the shadowy corridors at the back of Delphine's personal receiving hall.
Dio, on the other hand, spun around with glee and practically skipped toward the special display tank. "How pretty they are," Dio murmured as he pressed his nose against the glass. "Did you really raise them from hatchlings, Delphine?"
"Of course. They were no larger than your littlest finger when they were given to me by Principal Minerva Hestria on the occasion of my eighth birth week."
Dio watched as the eels, now as long as his arm, fluttered gracefully past his face. Their long bodies rippled like ship banners. Synaga Eels were some of the rarest creatures on all of Prestel. You couldn't find them in the wild, oh no. They had been bred by the noble houses of the Guild for generations. A single mature Synaga Eel in one's receiving room was a sign of great status. And Delphine, of course, had a dozen of them.
Sybene returned first, and knelt in front of Dio to assist him with his heavy gloves. Synaga Eels were not known to randomly attack Guilders. Nonetheless, care would need to be taken, due to how frenzied the eels could become when fed. Then Abeille entered, carrying a gold-rimmed platter topped with carefully arranged slices of raw meat, filleted thin, still juicy with a small amount of blood.
"Luric, assist Dio. I shouldn't wish for him to fall," Delphine ordered as Dio wobbled a little on his way up the steps to the back of the elaborate tank.
"Yes, Maestro."
How festive, Delphine thought. This reminded her of a lesson she'd had as a young Principal. Something about young humans climbing up ladders to decorate trees for some winter holiday. Except that the trees the humans used were terribly common, and no one on Prestel had a collection of Synaga Eels like Delphine.
Abeille handed the platter up to Luric, who in turn held it up for Dio, now at the top of the steps. Dio took a second to wave at Delphine on the floor below him before turning his attention back to the eels.
Dio picked up the first strip of meat and dangled it over the tank. The moment a drop of blood hit the water, the eels came racing, their jagged teeth gnashing and grinding as they honed in on food. Dio giggled and dropped the meat. He liked watching them fight for it. Sometimes they'd even inflict injuries on one another by accident in their blind race towards the meal.
"This is so much fun, Delphine. I want to raise eels, too!"
"Of course, Dio. Abeille..." Delphine motioned absently at the dark-haired Cordova with her folding fan, "...eels for Dio."
"I'll make the arrangements straightaway, Maestro."
Delphine smiled her tiny smile of approval. Anything, anything Dio should want, Dio must have. "Be careful, Dio. If you feed them too quickly, they will become ill. They really have no sense. Vicious creatures, but not a lick of sense."
Dio immediately began to feed the eels at a slower pace. When he was done, Luric lifted him down off the steps so that he and the Maestro could stand side by side and watch the eels race around, chasing yet uneaten morsels of food.
The empty platter was returned to Abeille, who bowed and retreated towards the kitchen. Once there, she opened the garbage chute and shoved the expensive platter inside. These particular dishes were made from pressed Anatore soapstone, and tended to soak up the juices of whatever might be placed upon them. They made for beautiful display pieces, but generally became useless after just one meal.
Yes, It was useless to try to clean the plate...
And, certainly, no one would want to eat off it again.
The odor of rotting human flesh would cling to the priceless platter no matter how much she scrubbed.
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The Hamilton Main, also known as the Aristotle, had long since come to rest in the uninhabitable wastelands of Tobiah. There, along with the second, third, and fourth ships of Hamilton, the House of Philosophers and Healers had begun to settle in for a very long wait.
For the lands of Tobiah were uninhabitable by humans, but Guild technology would surely allow them to conquer their terrain.
Gita Cordova peered out one of the circular portholes of the landed ship. The swampy jungle did look fierce, but one must have faith in the Wisdom of the Ancestors to have brought the great House Hamilton to this place. Surely, however, the outdoors was no place for the twins. Not here.
"Gita is thinking," Max whispered to his brother. "Gita is brooding."
Dex smiled and entwined his fingers with his brother's. They hated to go even a few moments without touching. Dex laughed silently, his whole body quaking with soundless mirth, and then flopped backwards onto the massive bed the pair shared.
"Dex thinks you worry too much, Gita," Max said, turning to curl up next to his brother.
"I think Dex-sama worries not enough. Surely the atmosphere outside is caustic. Look at that yellow haze. This place can't be healthy," Gita replied.
"The swamp animals do just fine."
Gita worried at a chain which she pulled from a small pocket on her uniform, and began counting off the Precepts of Ibildel wordlessly. She was holding a grudge against Prisus Ky Hamilton at the moment. Just a small one. Just a wish that he had taken, perhaps, a different road. A safer one. Not for her sake, but for the twins.
Perhaps she -was- too attached to her charges. But, she'd raised them from the hour they were born. Their mother had died only a few moments after Daxandros and Maxander came into the world. For almost eighteen years now, they had been the full measure of her cares and concerns.
Before that, she been companion and lady-in-waiting to the twins' mother, Sonya. From her youth, Gita had looked after children of House Hamilton. She had never known another House besides Hamilton, or another task besides caring for these nobles. Almost fifty-five years of service, and Gita took pride in every day of it. Perhaps her body had grown somewhat matronly, perhaps her eyesight was not what it once was, and perhaps her bad knee pained her from time to time... But, Gita Cordova trusted that the Wise Ancestors would give her strength to continue in her work until the time came to die to protect her charges.
Nonetheless, this whole rebellion, this betrayal of the Maestro struck Gita as highly...highly... It was just...so dangerous and...
"Dex wants to know if you are having a crisis of faith, Gita. Do you not believe that the Ancestors will, ultimately, lead us toward the path of Harmony?"
Gita pried herself away from the window, and crossed the darkened chamber to sit on the edge of the bed. The twins... They were so precious to House Hamilton. To look at them now, and see how they had grown... Max looked almost regal with white his hair put in a braid. His eyes, lacking pupils, reminded Gita of looking out a porthole at the empty sky. So wise he had become, so tempered from his frivolous days as a child who would scream endlessly if separated from his brother for even an instant. Now, he had a confident and refined look to his face.
And then there was Dex. He had never lost his good humor. A cherubic face with too-pink cheeks, and an eternal smile... A smile to grace lips which never spoke... Wild wisps of hair like a fern in bloom... Gita couldn't tame it no matter how much she brushed. But, what magnificent hands he had. Slender and graceful, with perfectly tapered fingers. Hands which could heal any injury.
How special her charges were. Dex the mute healer, and his older brother, Max the blind telepath. It was said that only one out of a hundred of the bloodline of House Hamilton still exhibited these traits, these genetic anomalies. And here, in one generation, two children, these brothers, had both inherited the Blessings of the Ancestors.
"We are safe here, Gita," Max finally murmured, sitting up to blindly press his face against Gita's back. He rubbed his nose against her spine and sighed. "Dex says that we are safe because you are ever vigilant to make it so. We know that Gita would lay down her life to protect us. We know."
Gita looked down to see Dex's head as he scooted to place it upon her knee. The mute boy smiled up at his former nanny, and now governess. His carefree and gentle smile caused Gita to exhale slightly in relief. She brushed her fingers through his wild hair, trying to get it away from his eyes. Dex's eyes...
They were, after all, the pair of eyes that both boys had to share.
"You shouldn't worry about House Eraclea. Not now. They have other things on their minds besides finding us," Max whispered against Gita's shoulderblade.
Dex reached up to touch Gita's cheek with utter fondness. A feeling of warmth and tenderness rushed through her flesh. Dex was trying to heal her, heal her of worries. The poor boy didn't understand that some ailments just couldn't be rectified by his touch.
"And you should not worry, Gita, for another reason..."
"Mmm?"
"The One Who Sleeps likes this place. The greenery of the vines and overgrown trees. The animals, the birds, the sound of the slowly moving water of the swamp. I let her see it through Dex's eyes, and she told me she wants to stay."
Gita felt a lump form in her throat only seconds before Dex's hand trailed down her chin to touch her neck.
He smiled even more broadly as his lips formed silent words which were voiced by his nearby brother.
"Alvis wishes to stay."
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In Our Next Chapter: Dio and Delphine have a falling out which leads to Dio and Tuck (then renamed Luciola) finally meeting. Cicada's motives for becoming Delphine's servitor become more clear. House Hamilton has a meeting to decide the next move of the exiled Rebel houses.
Author's Notes:
I didn't get as far as I wished with this chapter, so this is actually only the first half of the chapter. I apologize, but thought I'd go ahead and post this much for those who were waiting.
Synaga Eels: The eels have been bred by Guilders for many generations, and now only eat human flesh. This is believed to have begun when Guilders wished to dispose of bodies of humans which were "in their way". Later, Guilders would simply pick up unidentified or unclaimed bodies from battles, and put them on ice until needed. A Guilder displays a Synaga Eel to prove that they are, well, rather ruthless. The eels are meant to intimidate.
I got this idea from one of the episodes, where you briefly see some sort of fish or eel swimming around in the room where Delphine is standing.
Alvis: One might wonder how Alvis can be around at this point in the story. It is not in error. More will be revealed about Alvis later.
Gita: Gita is, in the series, Alvis' nanny or caretaker. She dies in the third episode when Ralph Wednesday (vanship pilot) is trying to bring Gita and Alvis to the Sylvana. Her part is really small, so I thought I'd put this reminder in here of who she is.
Reviews: Thank you so much for all of your reviews. I'm glad so many people are enjoying what I thought was a pretty boring story. Hopefully the next chapter will be pretty exciting. So, thanks again to: Deshi, Yma, Brittanga, Christy, Sybel Sayrah, MacroLuvr, Takma-rierah, Syphora, MissSpiritawtheCream, MJP, roguehobbit, M.Helen, ShadowCrow25, Black-Inque2002, Gaara-chan, and Sailor-Earth13.