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Intricacy
"It's vaguely insulting to call me 'yours…' I'm not an object to own,"
"I know you're not. But… you're still my little neko thief, aren't you? Noir… I know it's not right to call you mine… But would it help if I said I'm yours?"
A long silence. And then…
"Surprisingly… yes, it does help. I'm yours if you're mine,"
Loki woke feeling like he had been trampled by a herd of bilgesnipe the previous night. He was sore everywhere. He didn't want to move. But he grimaced and rolled from his back to his stomach, burying his face in his pillows.
He had not been dreaming of Noir. No, no, no. He couldn't dream of her. It was hard enough to try not to think of her while he was awake, while he had control of his mind. He couldn't afford to have his mind betraying him when he was asleep and didn't have control over where it went. It wasn't allowed to go back to last night. His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. His mind wasn't allowed to wander to his little neko, Thief. Not her words, not the way she moved, not her laugh, not her blush, not her eyes, not her lips…
He shook himself, rolling back over so he stared up at the ceiling.
He wasn't allowed to think of their walk through Asgard so long ago, it seemed. Not the feeling of wrapping her in an embrace, or the feeling of her hand lacing with his when he pulled her to her feet, not the feeling of simply holding her hand… He wasn't allowed to think about the roof of the tower, or the dance last night, or the balcony…
Loki picked up a pillow and covered his face with it, growling in frustration. Blast it all.
Noir and Marron spent the first part of their morning being outfitted with new clothing. All of it was black, all of it was mismatched, and all of it made both girls cringe. Wearing these clothes, they looked like all the other neko rebels. That was the last thing they wanted.
But soon they were dressed in mismatched black cloaks, tunics, boots, and breeches, and being shepherded around the large house by Noir's mother, introduced to individuals who were key players in the rebellion. Noirs, Marrons, Blancs, Rouges, Oranges, and others, none of the specific names managing to stick in the girls' heads for more than a few minutes.
But finally, they finished being paraded proudly around the house by Noir Soir, and the two were led to the main sitting room to relax.
Noir tugged Marron's black sleeve and nodded to a window seat on one side of the room. They traipsed their way through the crowded room, dodging flapping cloaks and swishing cat tails to claim the seat, sitting down with relieved sighs.
"I've never seen so many nekos in one place at once," Marron breathed quietly.
Noir's face darkened slightly. "I have."
Marron glanced at her questioningly.
Noir shook her head. "I lived on the plantations when I was younger, remember? But that's not important now. What matters is that there are dozens of nekos willing to raid the palace, thinking they can overthrow the Allfather and the Aesir."
Marron's brow furrowed, and she nodded. But she also felt some measure of relief. It seemed that Noir was once again focused on what the two would need to do: escape.
"So…" Noir let out a breath. "I'll… need to talk to my mother."
Marron nodded again. "She said she'd be talking to some of the other leaders, remember?"
"I remember," Noir confirmed. "Shall we go and wait for their little meeting to be over, then, and shall we speak to her afterward?"
Marron nervously tugged a strand of her hair. "Yes, let's," she murmured.
Thor sat in a room filled with nobles, advisors, and various warriors of high status. His father sat at the head of the main table, observing as everyone else spoke amongst themselves seriously. Thor had been sitting here for the last ten minutes, and the war meeting had not been officially called to order yet. He glanced around the room. Soldiers of varying rank lined the walls, while the king's advisors sat in the seats nearest their ruler. Thor sat on the opposite side of his father, and Lady Sif and the Warriors Three sat a few seats away. There was an empty seat catty-corner to Thor, where Loki was supposed to sit. But he was not present. In fact, Thor had not seen his younger brother since he had left Loki's room the previous night. He had not been at the rather intense and serious breakfast, which had been punctuated by guards scurrying in and out of the dining hall to speak with the king. Thor doubted the Allfather had even noticed Loki's absence. Thor also suspected that Loki had not even left his room today.
"Shall we begin, then?" Odin's deep voice boomed out over the table, and everyone immediately fell silent. "Is everyone who wishes to be here present?"
"Loki is not here," Fandral observed casually. "Was he not supposed to be here?"
Odin's eyes flicked to the empty seat. "Evidently if he has not arrived yet, he has no interest in this matter. Who am I to force him into coming to a meeting of which he has no interest? I am sure he is far more interested in his own affairs than that of the realm," he said bitterly.
Everyone's eyes widened at the blatant distaste in the king's voice, but no one dared make a comment. Thor hoped desperately—he clung to the idea—that Odin was simply of short temper today, under stress from Asgard's predicament. He did not want to believe that Odin honestly thought such caustic ideas of Loki.
"Well, then, I believe we may proceed," one of the advisors said carefully, edging the subject tentatively.
The Allfather let out a humph and waved his hand. "Indeed. Well then, tell me. Lord Sogn, what have you to tell me of our prospects?"
Another of the well-dressed men shuffled a few scrolls he held in his arms, and he unfurled one in front of himself. "I have gathered what information I could about the nekos… their culture, their physical aspects… everything I could."
Odin dipped his head as invitation to continue.
"Well…" Lord Sogn peered over the scroll. "I've written some notes here of things you might find useful. Some of their natural advantages include…" he traced his finger down the parchment. "Increased hearing, vision—both night and day—increased agility, increased endurance, and increased coordination. All of this is due to their feline nature…"
"And what of disadvantages?" Odin pressed. "Have we information on their disadvantages?"
"Perhaps a fear of dogs and an aversion to water," Volstagg put in jokingly.
"Maybe we could bait them into the open with bits of fish and catnip. We should gather all the shiny objects and string them up as a distraction," Fandral said derisively.
A few of the men around the table chuckled darkly, as if such an idea might actually work. Thor felt his fists clench slightly at their attitude towards the nekos. How did nobody understand that these beings were not merely housecats on two legs rather than four? Why did they all assume that the nekos were animals? He shook his head. "Lord Sogn, please continue," he called over the myriad cat jokes being thrown around the table now.
The researcher cleared his throat and threw a disapproving look around the table, irritated by his report being interrupted with chatter. "Disadvantages… they have a very high body metabolism that can be used against them just as much as it can work for them."
"How so?" someone else asked, leaning forward eagerly.
"Well, because of their high metabolism, it is easy to starve them… it also means that they are very lean. They are not as naturally strong as the Aesir. Unless they have been training solely for the purpose of building muscle for a long time, they're likely to be rather slender and easy to physically overpower in hand-to-hand… assuming you can get past their accelerated coordination and senses, that is."
"Sped metabolism," Odin said thoughtfully. "Would poison be effective, then?"
"It's a possibility," Sogn said slowly. "Increased heartbeat goes with the metabolism, which means poison, either ingested or injected, enters the bloodstream fairly quickly. However, it also leaves the body just as quickly, being processed by this metabolism. It is also noted in some of the old texts that they heal rather quickly because of their body's general speed… in old times, some witches and warlocks used neko blood for brews and such, believing that it had special properties. This was all proved false, as it is their body and not their blood that causes such healing speed. It's also important to note that nekos do not have the same exact genetic makeup as Aesir… healers in eons past performed experiments, and apparently Aesir and neko organs are not compatible. This may be where neko inferiority ideas first started, because the Aesir physicians believed the nekos organs were under-evolved and underdeveloped, and that caused the-"
"This still gives no answer to our current predicament," someone else interjected. "We still have no way to find the vile little creatures," the man spat mutinously. "Any news on that front, Sogn?"
Sogn shuffled through the sheaf of papers, disgruntled by the new interruption. "Well. Nekos are accustomed to savage habitats… adapted to live and thrive practically anywhere. Rough conditions do not bother them, so…" he shrugged helplessly. "No, we've no ideas on that front so far. They could be living outside the city, in a grove of trees… they could be living in a sewer… they could be holing up in an ancient ruin. There's no telling."
Thor shifted uncomfortably, thinking of Marron being held against her will in any number of hostile environments. He wanted desperately to find both Marron and Noir… but at the same time, he almost dreaded it. For if he found them, so would the rest of Asgard's warriors. And if Asgard's warriors found the neko rebels, whether they be willingly joined to the revolution or forced into it, they would be captured and likely killed.
"Has anyone any ideas for finding the nekos?" Sif asked impatiently. "For that is the only way I can think to make any progress in this conflict."
Odin rubbed his chin. "If we must find the nekos… I suggest that we put the street soldiers on high alert. Have them stop any pickpockets. Have them apprehend any figures in cloaks, even… if any nekos are to be caught, then they are to be brought directly to the dungeons and persuaded to spill information of the rebel base."
Thor stiffened slightly. Persuaded. The word rang in his head. It meant torture. Normally, the idea of torturing a prisoner for information on an enemy did not bother him in the slightest. But for some reason, every time they mentioned "neko", he thought of Marron. He pictured Marron in a grove of trees, or a sewer, or a ruin. He pictured her being apprehended by soldiers in the street… he pictured her being tortured. He shook his head. He was being silly. But he certainly wished he could somehow ensure that Marron and Noir were out of the line of fire.
Noir and Marron leaned against the wall outside the meeting room where the leaders of the rebellion discussed plans. Catalysseur was of course heading it. Soir was there, too… along with several others. The girls had meant to merely wait for the meeting to be over and then pull Soir aside… but now they were eavesdropping.
"…anything before two weeks from now is too soon," some male was saying stubbornly. "The newer recruits need more time to train in weapon use and to get a little more meat on their bones."
"We're running low on supplies!" some female hissed angrily. "What with all the new recruits, we'll soon be out of clothing to spare, and half our food is already depleted. We have to act soon, or else we risk—"
"Not waiting long enough is just as much a problem," Catalysseur put in here. "Inexperienced soldiers can lose our battle for us."
"The longer we wait, though," Soir argued. "We run the chance higher of us being discovered. And she's right; we're starting to run dangerously low on supplies."
"It makes no difference," Catalysseur insisted. "We shall persevere. Even when a bit fatigued, a well-trained soldier fights better than a well-fed imbecile who can't properly hold a dagger. We wait to strike. Are we all clear on this point?"
There were murmurs of assent.
"Very well," Catalysseur announced, sounding pleased. "We shall continue on. Our meeting is adjourned."
Marron and Noir glanced at each other in alarm and immediately danced back from the door they had had their ears pressed against, and they retreated a few feet down the hall.
The scarred wooden door opened, and a dozen or so nekos of all shapes, sizes, and colors filed out. Soir was the second-to-last to exit, followed only by Catalysseur. She glanced down the hall to see Marron and Noir. "Etoile, Arable. There you are." She paused and gave them a careful look. "…Were you listening in on the meeting?"
The girls looked nervously at each other.
"Yes, but only in the hopes that we would hear the plan," Noir explained uncomfortably. "We're a bit nervous is all… we were hoping we could speak to you about it?"
Noir's mother quirked her eyebrow slightly and nodded. "Certainly we can speak about it. Follow me. We can talk in your room… I don't think there's anyone in there right now." She led the way back to the room Noir and Marron had slept in the previous night.
The girls followed and then settled themselves side by side on one of the beds. Soir entered the room after the girls, and she walked deliberately over to the dusty window, her boots making a quiet creaking sound on the worn wooden floorboards. Her slitted gray eyes stared out the window for a moment, and then she turned to look at her daughter and her daughter's friend.
"What exactly is it that is troubling you?" she asked in a concerned voice, tilting her head to one side. Her black tail behind her swished very slowly, like a pendulum on a clock, as she waited for the answer.
Noir bit her lip. Something seemed ever so slightly off about her mother. Like there she was asking them a trick question, waiting for an answer that she already knew would be wrong. There was no right answer to this question, she thought. But… she had to try. "It's… the rebellion. The siege on the palace. All of it."
Soir's eyes narrowed slightly. "Exactly what about all of it is troubling you? Do you not approve of our trying to get the rights we deserve?"
Marron opened her mouth to speak, but Noir cut her off. She could tell by the look in Marron's eyes that if she spoke, she would be a little too straightforward and bold. Noir had to intervene before Marron said too much. "It's not that we don't approve. That's not it at all," Noir said quickly. "We just wonder at its effectiveness. I mean, looking at the situation tactically, it doesn't quite make sense. There's too much depending on perfection, with no room for error. It's a dangerous plan. That's our concern."
Soir's tail paused in its rhythmic swishing as she thought this over. "Explain," she said curtly.
Marron cleared her throat and took a breath before speaking. "Well, if we are indeed relying on winning a battle to succeed… a single battle, no less, then we run the risk far higher of failure. I mean, it's like they say, wars aren't won in a day. It takes time and precision, not precision in a split second. Making all of this depend on a single day, a single siege, a single fight… it makes things too risky. And it's even worse if you're pushing for the soldiers to fight before they're ready. Even with what Chatte Rouge is saying, that we should wait two weeks to strike, it's not enough."
Soir looked thoughtful. "I see your point, though I do doubt it. What would be your solution for this predicament of too much relying on a single battle? Take it in stages? Seize the city one district at a time? No, that wouldn't work. It would give the Aesir too much time to prepare themselves, or give them the chance to box us in…"
"We think a battle altogether is too brash," Noir said slowly and quietly. "Nekos are not made for battle against the Aesir. We battle each other perfectly well, because we're matched. We do fine and well against, say, elves or vampires, and humans aren't a problem. But the Aesir are different. They're built for the kind of battle we don't stand a chance in. Our talents lie in stealth and agility. Theirs is in strength and resilience in the open… which is what your plan relies on. No amount of training will put abilities where there is no chance for it. They're far more trained in battle, both at close and long range. We would need years to train for such a battle against the Aesir… no, we think… perhaps an entirely different tactic altogether. Declare a truce. Surrender if we must. And hold counsel with the king. I think that's the only way to actually accomplish anything, Mother." Noir fidgeted and looked down at her bare hands, resting on the black fabric of her black pants.
Soir was silent, not speaking for a moment. Then, in a dark voice that almost held a threatening growl in it, she spoke. "…If you think for one moment that the Allfather will listen to a word we say… if you think for one second that we should surrender… If you fool yourself into thinking that the Aesir will be reasoned with… then you're wrong. They are arrogant, pompous, self-righteous beings that think every other realm is supposed to grovel and kiss at the ground they walk on. That is why they found it necessary to stop the frost giants from conquering Midgard so many years ago… they needed somebody beneath them. Just like they have convinced themselves that they need the nekos beneath them. They will not hear us when we speak. We're drowning in plain view, and they just look down their nose at us, pretending not to notice. But they notice. And they don't care, not wanting to offer their hand to what they deem unworthy of saving."
There was a moment of silence, and all Noir could think about was Loki, and the conversation they had had… only last night.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what? I'm simply supposed to accept my place… as merely the second-in-line. The last to be noticed, the last to be asked the opinion of, the last to be appreciated."
"Loki, they save the people who are drowning first."
"But what if I'm drowning, too? And they just haven't noticed it yet?"
Her mother's words rang in her head along with Loki's, and she bit her lip so hard that the skin started to break.
"So don't think there can be peace meetings, or some kind of truce. I understand that you're scared of the fight," Soir was continuing on. "I won't relay this conversation to Catalysseur as long as you tell me that you understand what we're doing," she pressed, shifting a hard look between the two young women before her. Both nodded solemnly, and the older woman nodded in approval. She started to walk out of the room. "I shall see you two soon."
Noir and Marron stared after her, the cloak and tip of her black tail being the last to disappear out of sight, swishing around the corner. They listened to the sound of the boots on the creaky wooden floorboards far longer than necessary, until the sounds faded to join the multitude of faint voices and chatter downstairs in the common area.
Only then did they dare to look at each other, both of their expressions holding something of doom.
"Well," Marron murmured. "I suppose we've gotten our answer there."
Noir let out a breath of exasperation and then bit her lip again, burying her face in her hands and leaning her elbows on her knees. "I don't understand it!" she confessed in a whimper. "Why won't she listen? Doesn't she understand that this doesn't work? She's my mother! How can she not see that what these rebels are doing is ludicrous? Why can't-?" She finally broke off with a shaky breath and just shook her head. "I don't understand it, Marron. This rebellion means more to her than… than… than my word, and my ideas… she can't see past her own hardheadedness. I don't think any of them can see past it."
Marron was tugging on a strand of her hair nervously, chewing her lip as her brow creased in worry and concern. "I know. So… what are we supposed to do, Noir?"
Noir sucked in a breath and didn't answer for a moment. Then she slowly lifted her face to look at Marron.
The other girl was taken aback by her expression. Noir's face had hardened into resolve, like it used to when she was explaining a plan to pull off a particularly complex heist.
"We, Marron, are leaving. We're going to go back to the palace, and we're going to talk to the princes again, and we are going to tell them the rebels' plans. We might even be able to tell them where the base is." She licked her lips and paused for a second, thinking over whether or not she should say her next words. "There's nothing left for us here. What do you say, my fellow scoundrel?"
Marron smiled faintly and let out a breath of relief. It had been a while since Noir had used the phrase 'my fellow scoundrel.' It meant that she was getting back to herself. That idea was comforting. That and the determination in her friend's face, and the words spilling out of her mouth. All of it was relieving for Marron. She nodded determinedly. "I agree with you completely."
"Brilliant. Now… what have we got around here to pick a lock?" The black neko glanced around the room, pursing her lips. "Wish I hadn't left everything over in Loki's room…" she muttered. There wasn't much to work with in here. She would need something of malleable metal, or something else sturdy enough… Her eyes flew to Marron. "Give me your shoe."
Marron blinked. "…My shoe…?"
Noir nodded. "Give me your shoe," she repeated. Marron slipped off her left boot and handed it over to Noir, who immediately inspected the buckles. There were three of them. "Hmm. Mind if I steal a buckle? Your shoe will be a little looser, but—"
"If it means we're getting out of here and back to Thor and Loki, You could have my whole finger," Marron murmured. "Do whatever you have to do. I can live with a loose shoe."
Noir smiled faintly. "I can't wait till we're back with them," she whispered, managing to shimmy the buckle off of the leather straps. She peered at it… a little square with a pair of prongs protruding, so that they could poke through the holes on the leather straps. Absentmindedly, she handed the boot back to Marron, who slipped it back on. Noir stood and crossed over to the window, peering at the small lock on the bottom sash.
Carefully, she slid the prongs into the slit the key was supposed to enter, and, using the actual square of the buckle as a handle, jiggled the lock gently and slid it up, twisting as she did so. The lock turned easily, and the window was unlocked. Smirking, Noir was able to open up the window.
"I don't know how you do that," Marron laughed softly as she crossed to stand with Noir at the window, her left boot now a little loose.
Noir just smiled mischievously. "Living on the streets as long as I have, I'd become pretty handy with a lockpick." Catching the chastising look Marron threw her, Noir grinned. "Or a boot buckle."
Marron looked out the window again. "So… three stories down.. Think we can make it?"
Noir nodded. "Certainly. Not the tiniest problem. This will be a piece of… hmm. I've never really had cake, but based on what I've heard, it's pretty easy. So… I'll spot you as you head down, and then when you make it to the ground, I'll follow you, and you can spot me."
Marron felt her hands shaking slightly with anticipation. "Alright. Well, then… see you in just a few, right?" She sat on the sill and swung her feet over, placing her feet on the outer sill. "Here goes nothing."
Noir watched with trepidation as Marron started scaling down the back of the villa, using the worn trellis as hand railings, and dropping carefully. Noir bit her nails as she watched, hoping it would be over soon. It was so much harder to watch someone else climb as opposed to climbing yourself. As soon as Marron's feet touched the ground, she would hop out the window and follow her down. But first Marron would have to make it to the ground.
Marron frowned with concentration as her feet and hands shifted from sill to trellis to small overhangs. Her weight shifted from higher to lower, and then she would drop her feet down to the next foothold. She lowered herself from a sill on the second floor down to an overhang of a window on the first floor. She started to put her weight on her left foot, but then her boot slipped, and she felt herself lose her balance. Her foot slipped from the overhang, and her grip on the sill with her fingers wasn't tight enough. A sudden panic and terror flooded her, and she felt herself lose all contact with the walls of the building, falling through the air to land on the cobblestones below. She heard her heart pounding abnormally loud in her ears, and a shrill shriek somewhere above, and then she felt her body instinctually twisting, but still the falling, and then—
Bam!
She hit the ground, landing heavily on her shoulder. She rolled as soon as she landed,, lessening the impact slightly as she tucked her head close to her chest in some semblance of protection. She made it to a stop, dizzy and the wind knocked out of her, but out of the villa and back on the ground, in the streets. She panted for a moment, looking up at the sky. Then her head cleared, and she scrambled up to her feet, stumbling slightly. Her amber eyes immediately flicked up to the window where Noir was. The black neko's face was turned away, looking back at something in the room that Marron couldn't see. Noir turned back to the window, pure panic in her gray eyes. She barely flicked her head and eyes, and Marron understood.
Go.
Confused, scared, and still somewhat disoriented from the fall, she dashed down the street on shaky legs with one loose boot, heading towards the busier districts, and towards the palace.
Up in the villa, Noir stared after Marron. Blanc and a few other nekos stood behind her, demanding what had just happened.
And what had just happened was that Noir had practically had a heart attack. She had seen Marron's foot wobbling occasionally as she climbed down, but never had she expected that she would slip the way she had, and fall down a story and a half to the ground. Noir had been unable to hold in her fear, and she had let out a little scream. Only seconds later, by the time Marron had hit the ground and jumped to her feet, a group of three nekos had dashed into the room, asking if she was alright.
And Noir… what could she even do or say? She told Marron to go with only a quick flick of the head, and then turned back to the three facing her.
"Noir, what the bloody blazes is wrong?" Blanc asked worriedly.
Noir bit her lip, thinking fast. "Ah… Marron… she… left…"
The three others rushed over to the window and stared off down the street. But the brown neko had already disappeared.
"What? Why? Where did she go?" a female orange neko asked sharply. "Wasn't this window locked?"
Noir felt her head spinning. This was terrible… how was she supposed to get out of this? The only thing she could think to do was lie. Play along like a good rebel would. "I…" she swallowed. "I left the room for a minute, looking for you, Blanc," she glanced at Blanc with a quick nod. "But I then heard something and came back in here. And… she was already halfway down the house, climbing out the window. I called out to her, and then she must have gotten startled and fallen, and then that was when I screamed. Then she ran off when she got her bearings when she landed," she said in one big rush.
A male brown neko touched the lock on the window, plucking the small boot buckle from the contraption. "She must have slipped the buckle off her boot to unlock the window. Clever, really…"
Blanc's eyes flicked to Noir, who blushed. Blanc's eyes narrowed at her. It was obvious he suspected her… she was the only one with such ingenuity in lockpicking. Marron would never have been able to do such a thing. "You left the room, and Marron then managed to unlock the window and leave?" he asked suspiciously.
Noir just nodded.
"We should go tell Catalysseur," the orange female said briskly and strode out of the room.
"She's only one little girl. He will probably say to just let her go," the brown male said, following the girl.
Noir and Blanc were the only ones left in the room. She avoided his eyes, reaching to fiddle nervously with fingerless gloves that weren't there. Instead, she ended up just lacing her fingers together and twiddling her thumbs uncomfortably. He crossed his arms and gave her a hard look.
"I think we both know that Marron wasn't the one that picked that lock on the window," Blanc hissed. "Maybe they don't know that. Maybe no one can prove it. But I think that we both know you unlocked it. And I suspect you never left this room to look for me. You and her both planned to leave. You just didn't get the chance to follow her out the window."
Noir's eyes flicked up to his. "And if I did, what are you going to do about it? Tell my mother? I think all that will do is get me kicked out of the rebellion. And you don't want that, do you?"
He let out a long breath through his nose, giving her a hard look. "Why do you so badly want to leave?"
Noir made no answer.
"It's not because of the little spoiled brat Aesir prince, is it?" he snarled.
Noir took a step towards Blanc, her hands suddenly balling into fists at her sides. Blanc made no reaction to her coming closer, or to her murderous glare. "What's it to you if it is?" she asked darkly. "It's nothing to you, that's what. And he's not just 'the little spoiled brat Aesir prince,' Blanc,"
"So it is him?"
"Bloody right!" Noir exploded, shoving him hard in the chest and storming out.
She made it halfway down the empty hall and then leaned against the wall, holding back tears. Why was this all so… wrong? She wasn't supposed to be here… she wasn't supposed to be alone. She wasn't supposed to have let Marron go alone. She wasn't supposed to be trapped in the rebel base. Her mother wasn't supposed to be part of this rebellion, either. And Blanc wasn't supposed to be a complete idiotic oaf. Yet somehow all of that was true.
Along with the fact that she just so, so, so badly wanted to be lying next to Loki up on the tower, hands laced together as they watched the black sky turn to robin's egg blue. She let out a shaky breath at the memory. She would keep holding to that memory, and the handful of others. And she would find her way back to him so she could have more. She squeezed her eyes shut. She would. She would. She would. She would get back to Loki, and back to Marron, and back to Thor, and everything would be alright. She clung desperately to that idea.
Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: Hello, all. Happy Valentine's Day, if you celebrate that… (Do any countries outside America celebrate it…? I don't even know….)
As always, I'm sorry for the long wait :P On the positive side, here we are. A… very long chapter, actually. Very… dramatic, too. I kind of have to apologize for that… things in my life just got really… kinda scary. I'm trying to get it out through writing, and so maybe my stress is showing through. Thankfully, I think it fits for now…
Ugh. You guys mind if I vaguely vent for a minute here? Sorry,, I'm just really stressed. I went in for an MRI yesterday (just a routine thing every 6 months for me) and… well, I mean, getting an MRI on Friday the 13th just spells out bad omen in more ways than one, right? But… Last night we got a call, after the MRI. Doctor says we might have a problem. They need to go over the results for stuff, but I'm really freaking freaked out and nervous. We'll be finding out for sure on Monday. Maybe it's selfish of me, but could you guys please pray for me? And if anyone feels like playing therapist for me, please PM me, cuz I am…. Well… yeah. Freaked. Nervous. *sigh*
Sorry if I just ruined your day/night… heh. Happy Valentine's Day. I can't even really focus enough to comment on the chapter that much… Let's just say this is starting to build up to the action. *nods*
Love you all, and I promise I will tell you if for some reason I am unable to continue the story. I don't think anything will be that serious, but just in case. You know. My mind is kinda pessimistic… Odds are everything is perfectly fine and I'm panicking and working myself up for nothing. *shrug*
Please favorite, follow, and review… I'm hoping we'll be able to get to 200 reviews sometime in the next couple of chapters.