What the Voices Say
What the Voices Say
By Dania, the Morbiddramaqueen10
Chapter-what-I-think-is-38 And I love You
DISCLAIMER Artemis Fowl isn't mine. Tara/Sophia, Sasha, Bill, Mary, and anyone else original is, however. And you may not use them without permission.
Yo, does anyone here have a DeviantART? Anybody?
Review, please.
Oh, and this is out of the blue: Has anyone seen "Newsies"? I saw it, like, a month ago. It's so cool. Young Christian BaleHOT! Totally. What do you think of me possibly making a Newsies Fanfict? With another OC, of course.
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The rain would begin soon. Sophia wasn't too concerned. It could potentially stop her flight, true, but from the feel of the air she believe it would be simply a light pour. Perfect for washing her away. It would be nice way to say good-bye. Similar to her greeting. When they had first arrived at Dublin, nearly five years ago, there had been a quiet drizzle. Funny how these things worked out.
The clock on her bedside table read 4:23. Roughly six more hours before she had to get on that plane. She was glad she had chosen the later flight that went directly to North America rather than the earlier one that went across the England first. This way she had more time to pack, without the pressure of catching an early flight. And she got to sleep in, a bonus she could most definitely use. Having a crazed genius searching for you did not do wonders on one's sleep or sleeping patterns. Rarely she caught a few hours. Maybe she'd snooze on the plane.
"Ow."
The stupid wig. She'd forgotten to take it off. Multiple pins held it in place, often pricking her. Fake hair was also itchy. What damage on her nerves! Silently cursing it she slid it off her skull taking in a private moment of satisfaction as waves of red fell around her, curling softly. Her favourite feature. Artemis' too.
Next to her eyes it was the one of the only things left of her father. He himself had not had any red colour; he was Black Irish. It was a hereditary trait on his side. The brilliant red usually skipped a generation, though it had been know to skip two or three if the other side had stronger genes.
A soft sound broke her bubble. It was between a gasp and sigh. Sophia tensed. Had she done that herself or was there another occupant in this room?
Staying calm was essential, it could just be her head playing tricks. Still. She glanced at the mirror on the wall across from her. It was angle ever-so, making the viewer able to see out into the hall if they tilted their head exactly. She had installed it in that particular position after catching Sasha eavesdropping in on a phone call. Nobody was there that she could see, but the door wasn't fully open, just ajar.
Her favourite line was up so she sang along, praying Bobby Darin's cheery lyrics begging for eternal love would stop her mind tricks.
"'Cause I want…. a girl… to caalll my oooown…
I want a Dream Lover So I don't haffta dream alone."
She didn't know where she'd found it, where she first heard it, but since she was young it had been one of her favourites. Something played when stressed. Or distressed. Sasha hated it, saying it was scratchy, old, and cheesy as well. That's why Sophia loved it so much. The unlikelihood of a "dream lover" ever existing. Relationships were push-pull, no fairy tale. Bobby Darin's crooning charms were a nice fantasy.
Noticing a lone sock on the other side of the bed, Sophia scooted across to bend down and retrieve the black cotton article. Popping back and turning round, she was face to face with Artemis Fowl the Second, and then quite suddenly mouth-to-mouth. In too much shock to push him away Sophia kissed back, realizing then just how much she'd missed him.
The Armani-clad arms wrapped around her, on her waist another, across her shoulder to cradle the base of her skull, caressing the fine baby hair on the neck. In turn Sophia kept a hand on his cheek and one draped on his shoulder, flung out aimlessly. It wasn't just some Roman candle kiss; it was an explosive atomic baby, ready to set off more than expected. One or the other stood, dragging their partner to a wall, only to push them against it. Sophia moaned, not in pleasure, rather in misery of her situation. Artemis didn't catch the emotion behind the sound, and began laying kisses on her neck.
She really didn't want to stop. He was such a good kisser, which was surprising. But she needed to escaped. Too bad. At least she'd had time to send some things to N.Y., and transfer her accounts. The only problem was the tickets. They were in her purse, which was down the hall…
"Sophie?" Artemis murmured against her neck. Oh. She must have stopped all action.
Wait. He had called her Sophie. Her name, and not just that, but the endearing nickname she possessed as well. Maybe he had gone mad. Artemis didn't to that. To him she was and would always be Tara Gavin, artist and his fiancée. Why ever would he recognize her as her, call her by her given name?
"Sophia?" He sounded a little more alert.
"Uh," she said the first thing that came to her mind. "I need to go to the bathroom."
Artemis pulled back, blinking. That was the last thing either of them had expected. Perhaps a deep conversation, negotiations, confirmations but not declarations of bladder functions.
"Okay." He pushed himself back from her body, helping her away from the wall. A blush crept up his cheeks, and he rubbed his neck, embarrassed over his sudden actions.
"Right." She slipped out the door, with a face just as glowing as his, he was satisfied to see. "Ah. Right. I—I'll be out in a moment."
Artemis nodded, though to no one for the room was empty. Frustrated, he took his aggressions out by hitting his head on the wall once or twice, even if science had proven that it could reduce brain cell count. Gods, one sight of her and he had gone bezerk. Understandably, he thought she was dead. There was no way he could go through with the wipe now, not after this. The relief of seeing her, Sophia, alive…and she had responded, not pulled back…things would work out. Definitely.
He was interrupted from these thoughts by his cell ringing. Flipping it open he snapped a "What?" briskly, looking out the window on to the fire escape. Butler hesitantly answered, catching on to his employers mood, speaking carefully.
"Artemis." He kept his gazed glued to the window. "Is there someone in there with you?"
"Yes." Artemis sounded surprised. "Why?"
"They're not going to be with you for much longer."
"What?" Butler heard footsteps and the sound of a creaky door being opened with force. Then a sigh and mumbled "Damn". The window was closed, though judging by the broken lock laying below it, it had recently been opened.
"Where is she?" He asked flatly, anger concealed neatly in a few syllables.
"On the fire escape. Who is she?"
Artemis paused. "What do you mean 'who'?" A white plastic mannequin's head that had clearly once held a wig caught his attention, as did the cat carry in one corner. A hiss came from inside. He backed away, eyeing it suspiciously. Butler heard another sigh. "Catch her."
"Click"
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How the hell did he find her? And what was this kissing? Jerk.
There was no time to drop Gem off now; she'd have to leave a note. Luckily the cat was already in a carrier, and in the bathroom too. Too bad she'd have to leave that cute suede skirt and the alpaca sweater here. Maybe he would clear out after he found her gone, but it was a fat chance. Well, at the very least, she had some things waiting for her in America. But that sweater was one of her favourites! Prick. He had to come along and ruin everything! Still, she got a nice good-bye kiss out of it. But that didn't bring her sweater back.
It took a mere two minutes to get the wig on perfectly and slip into some jeans and a rose colour jacket. Another 78 seconds to open the window, which hadn't been open in years. It took a little work to jiggle the lock out, and even more of an effort to be quiet about it. She scribbled a note and tapped it to Gem's carrier. "Good-bye," she silently said to the cat. Sophia truly was sad to give Gem up, she was such a wonderful listener, not to mention attentive at keeping the mice and rats at bay.
She swung a leg out the window, grateful she had put her tennis shoes on earlier that morning. When closing the window with a tiny "snap" she had to brush back the honey-blonde hairs of the wig, cursing it. She had nothing against blondes, just the fact she had to wear a wig at all. Having the noticeable auburn-ginger locks instead of an average dish-water blonde or chestnut made her an easy find in nearly any crowd. There would definitely be an appointment to the salon when she got "home". Take maybe 12 inches off, lowlights, maybe get it a little layered.
Below her she heard fateful words that spelled "Run!" if you heard them in the right context. Butler was on the street, talking in to his cellular, no doubt as to who it was.
She ran to her right, out of sight of the street and the bathroom window. The Bodyguard headed toward the ally. If he went up the steps closest to her, she was trapped. The ladder behind her was rusted and unusable. Maybe she could climb to the escape above her, but Butler would just follow. Options ran through her mind. Suicide was obvious, but not something she was desperate for. Maybe, if she picked the right spot, a jump would be possible…she could jump to the next building at the other side, there was nearly a meter and a half difference between it and her building. Yes, that was most logical. Butler was too old to be hopping about the roofs of old Dublin.
Taking a breath Sophia ran straight on right, the direction Butler would soon be emerging of. Three feet from the steps she hopped up, pulling on the old ladder that hung just out of her reach. One jump. Two. She could feel the vibrations of his massive feet…three. Four. She had it! The manservant's bald skull could be seen. She scrambled up, repeating the process, feeling Artemis' arms around her, breath on her neck, words in her ear. "Never again." He reassured her. "Always Tara."
As she climbed the next ladder, this one far more rusted than the last two, she heard her sister. Nothing in particular, just things her sister use to say. Glancing down, Sophia saw Butler just below her. He had looked up at the same instant, eyes cold. Hers widen, fright, making her freeze for a moment. In all their raids never once had they been so close to being caught. This was a new thing.
Finally her hands touched brick. She lunged up, feeling a moment of heat on her foot. Butler's hand had been hovering over her foot, making ready for a grab. Wasting no time on catching her breath, Sophia fled to the opposite ledge.
Had it really been so long since she had been up here? Only a few nights…no time to dwell on that now. Butler stood, having made it up the three ladders with ease. Well, he wouldn't be able to take this next challenge. Sophia's foot made contact with the ledge. She caught herself, steadying her form from dropping.
Oh Gods. It was more than one and a half meters. More like three. Would she be able to make that? Twelve feet wasn't a lot, but she was tired and out of practice. "Take a chance." She told herself. "A few broken bones are better than a life as Tara, trophy wife."
Another voice sounded in her head, making her jump and gasp, startled. It was Artemis, roaring in anger. "You can't do this! Suicide isn't…Sophia!"
Surprised, Sophia answered back aloud. "But I'm not going to kill myself."
"Good." A hand was laid on her shoulder. A large, muscled hand. "I believe Master Fowl would like to see you." Butler swung the girl around and was surprised to see two blue-green orbs staring back at him, just as surprised. It was the Iver girl.
"Miss Iver." He added.
"I don't-" She began, but the bodyguard hit a pressure point and she gasped. Her free movement in all of her limbs stopped. Numb and already weak, she gave in.
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Butler laid her still form onto her bed, and with a nod from Artemis, left the room. Sophia closed her eyes, thankful he had propped her on a pillow. Why had she stopped? Why had she answered back to one of the voices in her head? Why had she agreed to this, anyway? So far all it had given her was a dead sister, a vengeful fiancé, and a whole lot of trouble.
Gentle hands stroked for face, pulling of the wig and undoing her ponytail. She didn't bother in opening her eyes. It wasn't like she didn't know what awaited her. Gleaming eyes and the promise of "a happy new life" to "start over". Nothing that appealed to her. Well, either way the dice rolled she would've had a new life, though the happiness involved would've depended on who orchestrated it.
Artemis' heart broke to see her frozen, unable or unwilling it was hard to tell. She didn't move when he took off the blonde monstrosity that hid her real hair. Looking her over he saw a series of scrapes and scratches. One foot was missing a shoe, and it throbbed, a little red. Most likely she twisted it. A bloody cut on the heel of her right palm slowly dripped onto her jeans, leaving a stain. His hands probed her skull, searching for any damage. There was nothing, but her head was hot and her blood pounded. She was angry. At him, at herself, at Butler, at everybody.
"Why?" He asked, voice hushed. If he wasn't afraid of scaring her it would have been an ocean of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, regret, outrage filled his tones. Control went out the window. "Why would you try to kill yourself?" His voice broke on the word "kill". "I don't know why you would think your life would be so terrible that you would try to end it. Was it the idea of-of being with me?"
Sophia shifted, eyes opening. They shined with annoyance, pure, full rage and amusement. An odd combination, albeit, but still very passionate. "What," She asked, the venom in that single word alone almost enough to make any normal person step back. "makes you think I was going to kill myself? You great prick, I was jumping on to the building beside us! It wasn't suicide, I'm not ready to go yet. But I'm sure as hell not ready to be Tara Gavin," She spit the word out with hate, great hate. "for the rest of my life, thank you."
Artemis nearly bent down to kiss her, but she stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. "No. You're going to control those hormones, and listen. I have things to say, and you're going to let me say them, or Gods so help me, I will jump off this building. "
He leaned back, nodding.
"Good." Sophia said, satisfied. The numbness was wearing, so she struggled to sit up properly, wanting to be eye level with him. It would build her confidence. He looked ready to help, but a quick glare stopped him. She didn't want him touching her and bring everything back to square No. 1.
"I'm not going to tell your little secret about the little people. You can forget about brainwashing me. It wasn't my fault they chose to reveal themselves, I was just looking out for my sister. You try," her eyes narrowed. "I will find a way out, be it death or by plane, I'll be gone. "
He swallowed and nodded again.
"This engagement." Sophia put a hand to her forehead, massaging it, eyes closed tightly. "It is a bad idea. You don't need me beside you, it'd be a whole lot of grief. I never lied, I do love you. But with this situation…" She sighed. "You can see as well as I can why we shouldn't. I'm sorry. If you knew…you'd never want me."
At this Artemis' restraint against speaking was forgotten.
"No. I do want you!" He cried. She looked up, startled. The slang was unlike Artemis, as was the unrestrained emotion. He sounded sincere. "Why do you think I've been combing the city night and day for the past five days? If it was just the memory thing…I was looking for you."
"You haven't. You have been looking for Tara Gavin, trophy wife." Sophia declared angrily. "I was just some goal, admit it. You were not looking for Sophia."
"Are you so different, Tara and Sophie?" He shook his head, smiling. "You really aren't. I love you, who ever the hell you are. I know you are an artist, you do like many different kinds of music, you had a sister, I know your family history…"
"That's not enough."
"It is for me. We have time enough to get to know each other."
"No." It was firm. "I'm ending it. Stop chasing me. " Her eyes softened. "It's ending the way it should've. Remember the contract? We're nearly right on the deadline. You'll get over it, Arty." She said it kindly, with a sincere hope in her voice. Yes, it would hurt her, but Artemis would find somebody. A much better woman, one who would be suited to the Fowl life.
"I don't want to."
"Too bad."
"Why won't you try? Is it so much to ask, for you to stay?"
"Yes, it is. I have a plane to catch in a few hours, and I'm not done packing." Her gaze swept to the boxes littering the floor. Catching sight of his face she patted his hand. "Hey. I'll be back in the city sometime. Mind if I look you up?" It would be such a painful visit, but necessary. And she would get to keep tabs on him. From her last update, he had gone way downhill on hygiene.
He didn't answer, remaining frozen, so she tentatively slid off the mattress. There were only a few more things now. One or two more boxes, tops. She could take them to the postal office after she finished the few left in the parlor.
"You aren't getting on to that plane." He said softly from behind her. She looked up. She hadn't known he was so close to her. A mere meter. Less, probably. A dark, cold expression rested on his face, fear flitting briefly through his eyes. Sophia quivered, scared and angry herself.
"What?"
"You heard me." His eyes were dark now. "You are not getting on that plane. "
Sophia stood, eye brows raised. "You can't-"
"I can." He snapped. "I won't lose you again."
"I'm not letting you-"
"That decision is out of your hands, Sophia." There it was again, the obsessive, controlling, possessive tone. And they way he said her name…pronounced, full, held in regard. Like she was some prized pet, a racing horse. Maybe an old car he was fond of. It sent waves of fear coursing through her, one she would normally ignore. He turn, marching to the door. Sophia followed closely behind, protesting.
"Artemis you are NOT--what? No! Stop this! I can make my own-"
"Butler." The manservant stood in the doorway, face impassive.
"Yes, Artemis?"
Stay in here with her." The young man ordered. "I have business to attend to. Keep her in." He turned to Sophia. "You can stop packing. You won't need to waste the time." The voice used was cold. Not filled with any particular emotion, like joy, anger, or nasty satisfaction. Just blank.
Furious, Sophia fought past Butler, making it to the door before he fully closed it.
"You can't do this! I haven't done anything!"
It fell upon deaf ears.
"ARTEMIS!"
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"Argh!" She threw up a hand, wanting more than anything to scream. She brushed past Butler, headed to a wall, ready to throw herself at it in sheer frustration. It was habit, something her father encouraged. Take your aggression out on something. Usual he meant a boxing bag, or possibly a pillow, but Sophia wanted some physical pain to distract her. Butler caught her just as she was rearing up.
"I don't think Mr. Fowl would appreciate it if I allowed you to do that." His voice was calm and controlled, and Sophia was given the mental image of him talk to a wild stallion, calming it with eye contact and his voice. He would have been a great officer.
"I don't give a damn about what 'Mr. Fowl' wants." She wanted to hiss, but respected Butler enough to say it in a low, mocking voice. "Since he obviously doesn't care about mine enough, I'll return the favour."
Butler merely dragged her to the armchair by the fireplace, settling down on the one beside her. Cushy and plump it was angled perfectly, so its occupants could either gaze at the flames (non-existent at this time, it was summer) or at each other. Butler chose the latter, fixing Sophia with his unperturbed gaze.
What he saw was a girl. Young, angry, frighten, Sophia wasn't ready to be a Fowl wife. She was just a kid. Lips in a tight line, body firm with tension and determination, eyes hard and challenging, the manservant did not second think the fact that if Artemis decided to take her back to the Manor, strip her of her identity, they would go through hell trying to get her there, keep her there, and get her into the chair that held her fate. She would not allow them to brainwash her. She wouldn't marry Artemis. She wouldn't let them take her free will. There was no way, nothing they could convince her of. She might love Artemis, might adore his family and Fowl Manor, but she wouldn't let their binds keep her.
And she was so young. 21…a child. Artemis did forget how much younger she was, emotionally rather than by actual age. He couldn't just restrain her, the loss of youth would kill her spirit.
Butler understood his employer's actions, could see where Sophia was coming from, and was stuck at a cross roads. Artemis was his employer, and closest friend, practically a son. The girl slipping away eventually would have the result of Artemis' emotional downfall. He had always repressed them, the pesky things. The sudden release, thanks to his fiancée, had the potential to help, but also drive him to madness. Sophia leaving would trigger some really deep, hidden stuff, unseen since his father's kidnapping.
Sophia was scared. She had just as much to lose. The thought of a life of confinement and expectations, due dates and deadlines, social functions and public parades was nothing she wanted, nor took joy of. She might love Artemis, but she also knew just how bad she would be as a Fowl. Or she though she did. Personally, Butler though she would be an excellent Fowl. Most of the previous Fowl women were strong yes, but unemotional as Artemis, and uncaring (or, rather, unable to do anything about) toward their husband's liaisons with other women. Or men, in some cases. Sophia would stop those traditions and help build the new Fowl empire, a more legit one. The push behind Artemis' pull. He had began the transformation, she would help keep it on track.
Only she was trying to sacrifice personal happiness and Fowl future, unable to face the threats of identity loss and empty freedom.
"You're wrong." The manservant started gently. "He cares more than anything about you. I can prove it."
Sophia sighed, not in the mood for a lecture. "He does care." She agreed. "But not necessarily about what's good for either of us. I can't stay. He can't simply take what he wants whenever he feels I've been naughty. This thing with brainwashing me…and staying engaged! He has to understand it's not going to end well. I'm not suited to be a Fowl. I'd kill the traditions, be totally unready for any of the public stuff, and children! Surely…" She drifted off, only to start her rant again.
"And lately it's been more about what he feels is right, rather than what truly is. Keeping me from that flight won't change things for him, just make them difficult."
"He's trying to turn the Fowl name around. Certain traditions-" Butler coughed, hinting. -are being sacked for more acceptable motos. You would be a perfect canidate to keep those motos and influnce them for the nexted line. Artemis knows you would be perfect for this. And he cares for you deeply."
"Like a master cares for his hound." Sophia huffed. "I'm not ready to be a Fowl."
"Ah. Nobody's ever really ready for marriage. As for running the household? Who said you'd have to say the vows tonight? He'll give you time." Butler winked.
Sophia wrinkled her nose. "No. I'll never...I don't want to. I'm fine as Sophia Iver rather than Tara Fowl. " She spat out the name like it was some cursed illness.
"Why are you telling me this?" He inquired softly. The trick the manservant used to get the young lady to open up required this question to be laid on the table, allowing the suspect (or in this case, temporary charge) to think the conversation was all of their own design.
"Oh." She smiled half-heartedly. "I know, you'll tell him and all that. But he should know what he's in for. I'll make life hell if he thinks….Oh, stupid boy. Sorry, Butler. I know, it's getting too emotional for you."
The manservant smiled. Sophia knew of his jaunts with romance novels, she'd caught him with one awhile back.
"It is a soap opera." He agreed. "But I don't think you know the real reason for him keeping you off that plane. I think he literally meant 'off that plane'."
"What? Why would he keep me off a particular flight? Does he have ESP? Sensed a plane crash?"
"Actually, he saw one." Seeing her confused look the manservant chuckled. "There was a plane that went down off the coast two hours ago. Flight 2779. Your name was on the list of perished. We were going to the morgue to ID your body, but he insisted we stop here first. "
"Oh." Sophia said softly. "That's why…oh. My."
"He was going to pieces. That might be why he's a little nervous to let you out of his sight. He can live without you as directly his, but he won't stand to survive knowing you're dead. "
"Then flight—the one that crashed—I nearly took it, but he had all the camera's on it, so I didn't. So I was going to take the one to Newfoundland tonight and then take a flight to New York." She said faintly. "He saved my life, accidentally."
"Can you blame him, lass?" He asked, eyes twinkling. "He's just scared out of his skin of losing you again. That one hour you were 'dead' he was simply empty. I wasn't going to let him see the body. I imagine he was ecstatic to see you alive."
"Yes. Very much so." It justified his actions now, at the very least.
"I don't think he means to keep you here, unless you want to stay?" The way he said it made her think he was asking her to. To stay, that is.
"Perhaps." Sophia didn't know she had said the word until she saw Butler's face brighten for a moment. She had been thinking it, but wasn't going to—there was a knock at the door.
"Come in, sir." Butler called, standing. He turned back to Sophia. "He really is just looking out for you, in his own way. Try not to break his heart." With a wink he left, greeting his employer with a simple nod.
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Artemis kneeled beside her chair. Sophia was staring off into some distant space, gnawing on her lip vigorously, concentration etched in every movement. He glanced at her hands, and saw with a sad sort of pleasure that she wore the ring he had custom ordered. The one with leaves and the single diamond. The white gold rested on the middle finger of her right hand, glittering in the gentle light. Rain pattered down outside, making light, memorable sounds.
He called her name once, then twice before she came back onto the current plane of existents, shuddering to see him and feel the cold the summer rains had brought.
"Sophia." He said again, liking the sound and the person it belonged to. He said it like it was the best thing that came to mind, pronounced every letter to its special sound. Her eyes met his, holding his gaze for the longest time that day. They were pools of bright colour, the blue-green even more apparent than usual for her skin was paler then normal. Had she been eating enough? Or was it just lack of sun?
Nothing met his greeting, simple as it was, but silence. Not angry silence, just a "what-do-you-want?" sort of silence. She didn't care what he had to say, she just wanted him to say it so she could get back to daydreaming.
"I've cancelled your tickets. All of them." He waited, expecting some screams or at the very least glares. Sophia's eyes tightened shut for a moment, she turned her head back to the fire place, and she gave a quick nod but nothing overly dramatic. Artemis internally gave a sigh of relief. The hatred that he saw when she yelled at him for such actions pained him so much, he didn't like hurting her. If it where anyone else he might take joy in ruining their plans, but with her he just felt terrible.
"You can stay until Friday." He decided in a snap. It was Sunday, that gave him five full days. "Then if you want to leave, you can go. I won't stop you." He added, unsure of whether the message was clear in the sentence before. Gods, she made him a fumbling child.
"Why?" She finally asked.
"You have to bury Sasha."
So he was keeping her sister, making her return each year to mourn. At his home. Scheming little…
"Why won't you stop me?" She turned her head back to stare him in the face.
He was silent, debating with himself whether he should tell her the pathetic truth or give some straight-faced lie. Would it be so straight? He was tempted to keep things distant, nothing more than a cool acquaintanceship between them. His mother's voice, encouraging and warm, told him to not let the chance slip by.
"Because I want you to be happy." And I love you. He added silently.
She turned away, nodding again. "Fine. I'll stay.
Artemis felt his heart sink. What did you expect? Some sort of great opening?
The drive took less time than before, though in everyone's mind it was the longest in the world. Sophia sat at one side of the vehicle staring out the window. Artemis sat at the other, sneaking glances at her often. Butler looked back via rear view mirror. He wasn't concerned. Not at all. When two strong-willed people went head to head, reconciling would take time, space, and plenty of quiet thought.
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I didn't expect this. But the characters took hold. Heck, I did play around with killing her off. It was tempting. But I didn't hate Arty enough. I'd already tortured him. Besides, then where would that leave us? Only with two funerals, a bunch of sad people, and me laugh in the background.
In the next chapter I shall revel my possible "what-if" story. But first what I want you to do, my dear reader, is go to my profile, click on "Red Sky" my Greek myth story, read it, then return to said profile, and vote on whether it should be continued. That should occupy you until I can get chapter…is it 39(?) up. Then, we're nearly done, my ducklings.
Dania