[b]The Flash Back Post[/b] This type of post will contain a series of flashbacks that can be referenced throughout the main RP. Order does not matter, just continuity. Basically, stuff that just doesn't fit right away or at all in the IC but could be fun details for spare time or what not. [u]Helen[/u] [hider=Episode 1] [center][b]Strange Beginnings[/b][/center] That feeling you get when you love someone dangerous. I don’t mean that fake stuff that makes you want to jump off bridges and sing —I mean genuine fondness for someone. The kind of love that makes you want to strangle them for not wearing a coat in the middle of December, the kind that makes you fight a gag reflex to wipe the snot off of their sheepish faces, the kind that enables you to have more patience and awareness for them than you’ve had of yourself for the past twenty-six years of your entire life. Once upon of time I had three of those people in my life. One of them is my sister, Abby—she’s such a typical kid though, until she hits her twenties I won’t be able to talk to her like I do the other two. The second one is Ulrich, but that boy is another story all his own. The last one is Damien Cass O’Shalna. And man, if there isn’t a library of feminist literature written about his type already… Tall, handsome, surprisingly articulate-- he might have even been the type I’d bother to stick around for. Except for one tiny, minuscule, detail: [i]He’s totally insane.[/i] And I knew that from the very minute I met him: [b]Five Years Prior[/b] I had been officially offered a shot to do my own gig once I had finished up my last semester at Syracuse. My hobby Stream ‘Alt. Twisted News’ would be reaching a broader audience after about a few million hits on my own. I also hosted the university Stream—easy, right? [i]Wrong.[/i] I said the word “fuck” on a live campus broadcasting. Twice. My Editor was not amused. [center][i]"You're being assigned to a player interview" "What? Because of one broadcast? Mark-- we're all adults-- fuck. Fuck. Fuckitty-fucking-fuck-fuck!" "Fuck kitty? My, we're getting really creative today." "...who's the player?" "He's a freshman. Damien O'Shalna." "Hasn't someone already done a few segments on that kid?" "Have you heard his deal? He's all they wanna hear about. Get in there Fenten. And make it good."[/i][/center] He wasn't the easiest guy in the world to schedule an interview with. It took a few weeks of phone tag to meet him face to face. We ended up at the edge of Central Forest; a couple of hot chocolates and the cleanest park bench we could find. “Drizzy X?” He chuckled when I told him my real name and then apologized with, “It’s just that my mother’s middle name is Helen. Very old fashioned.” “Oh, I read that you were adopted.” I said without thinking. He nodded matter-of-factly and shrugged, “That’s not a secret,” his eyes softened a bit as he followed with, “as far as I’m concerned, her and Pops are about as blood as you can get.” “That’s adorable, can I quote that?” he nodded, and after a moment I continued, “Thank you for meeting with me last minute; you must be swamped with your first year on campus.” “Speak for yourself,” he eyed his own sentence which illustrated itself in a quote bubble above his head. The bubble of text folded itself into a digital airplane and took a nosedive into my tablet with a pixilated ripple; the words ‘Speak for yourself,’ appeared in Helvetica on my screen. “It must be difficult to manage two Streams.” I reached out and held my fingers over the ‘mute’ hologram hovering between us. “You have no idea. Honestly, I feel like I’m going to pull my hair out.” He reached out and hollowed his hand over his own ‘mute’ button and then said, “This is your last interview for the university Stream right?” I nodded, “Yes, they’re fazing me out quietly- no offense.” He shook his head as if to say ‘None taken’. “Syracuse won’t be the same once you graduate, I guarantee it.” “You’re still a freshman, you haven’t been here long enough to miss me.” “That’s not true. I was offered a scholarship to play college ball at Syracuse when you took over the general Stream and Mark Eisen was moved to strictly sports. I’ve listened or watched just about all of your player interviews.” “Mark? Yeah...great guy...if you like blood loss. He does a lot of editing now.” I watched him nod and then place a hand over his chest, his expression seemed troubled, “What was a high school kid like you listening to some random university Stream?” “…Well I’ve always wanted to go here… it’s relatively progressive views on social issues and... and....Can we do this another time?... I've got to go.” He arched suddenly in a backwards bend over our park bench in a move would make an ordinary linebacker blush; full tilt sprint for the tree line of Central Forest. [i][Loading Profile... Loading... Loading... Missing Profile][/i] With a few swiping gestures I closed down the holograms and logged my time as 'out'. Great. Just what am I supposed to do with that? Oh crap. "Wait! I need to get you sign on off on some affidavits!" he was fast, really fast, I but when I squinted I could still make out his outline just beyond the breaks in the trees. When he looked back at me gaining on him he frowned, "Get lost" "Wh-what? No. Whatever's going on, you just made this interview helluva' lot more interesting" I laughed and then I stopped laughing when he began to speed up. Already, I was sweating. "Seriously, can't you just ask someone else?" "You can't hide from your demons O'Shalna! Sooner or later they're going to riiiiiiiiiise again!" It was from some old song way back when and seemed funny enough... Whatever it's reference it seemed to really have an effect on him. He tripped and landed hard on his palms. "You can't out run me forever Damien! Track team, freshman year, you can shove it hard O'Sh--" Just when I thought I had caught up with him he began running on all fours at a speed that couldn't possibly be maintained by any normal human, "You really [i]are[/i] a busy girl" he called back, "Alright, enough is enough..." He took a hard right and vanished. [i]Low branch? Low branch.[/i] [b]Lights out.[/b] --------- [i]Rough[/i] Urgh. My head... [i]Wet[/i] My fucking head... [i]Hot[/i] My poor, fucking head... [i]Red[/i] I scream. Two tigers, wince in unison. Moments later my double vision fades and I realize that there is only one tiger. This fact however, does nothing to calm me. I scream again. After about a minute of this, the tiger's ears fold back and it starts to growl. Soft as a whisper and then increasing in volume until the forest floors quake. I pass out again. But not before I feel it go back to quietly licking my head wounds. [center]--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] [i]Smooth[/i] Tiger tongues are antiseptic. [i]Moist[/i] There are more than just orange ones. For example. There are white ones. Gold ones. Black ones. The rarest of all, blue. [i]Warm[/i] Tiger's often mimic the voice of prey in order to lure their own into an ambush. [i]Pink[/i] "Almost done. Stay still." a familiar voice instructs me. A tongue strokes at the same spot on my forehead and in my delirium I find it oddly erotic. Clumsily, I reach up and drag god-knows-what down and center. It tastes like blood and Colgate..? "Uh, no." whatever it is, it's repressing laughter, "I have a girlfriend." [i]Blood and Colgate has a girlfriend...? What does that even mean...? Colgate. Coooooolgate. Ha-ha.[/i] My eyes snap open. "You can become a tiger? Rad. Can I have a clip for the university Stream?" Damien O'Shalna staggers backwards "Listen, lady. I don't know that you think you saw--" "I remember everything." "Everything?" he swallows. Verifying, I pull out the tablet and glance to make sure it was still recording "Everything. I've got footage... hey... what are you anyways?" --------------- Turns out he didn't know what he was-- there were no records of Tiger morphing Fae... at least not that we knew of. I graduated a few weeks later so I didn't see too much of him after that. My show became a hit soon after. Maybe fifth after the various weather girls, stock picks, and sports. It focused on strange happenings and targeted social issues of the Folk and Central Forest politics. I was doing a bit on the new fae football team at my old alma mater; the college had just allowed the new team to play for the first time. There was, what I would later come to know, as a younger Ulrich in the stands, watching his new elder brother passively on the gridiron. All freckles and short with bandaged fingers. He was cuter as a kid. Beside Ulrich there was another figure who wore a swim team letterman's jacket. He seemed too serene for his surroundings. Both old and young at the same time... I caught myself staring at him until: "Still busy?" "Oh! Heeeeey-- you scared me. It's over? When? I.." I glance back to stands, but the man and Ulrich had vanished. Damien leans over the gate and waves off rowdy teammates, "For about ten minutes, now. You look... well, fame definitely agrees with you, Miss Fenten" "Ah, what can I say? I'm livin' The Good Life. And you? It's been like.. months..." my voice lowers and I lean in, "so ... everything is figured out now?" "Mostly." "Good. Don't forget. You still owe me that interview." [/hider] [hider= Episode 2] [center][b]Timid Middles[/b][/center] The pianist strolls in about halfway through his own entrance; the band smoothly loops into a variation of the intro for a second time as he skirts along wallpaper to take to the bench. He shrugs off his snow flurried coat and pulls the index fingers of each leather glove, “Play me in Dino.” The saxophonist wipes a bead of sweat from his brow and nods into a slippery, sly note. The pianist smooths his tie, adjusts the level of his microphone, and finally stilts his fingertips to the black and ivory keys. He licks his lips, and croons into the microphone. [center][i]Oh the weather outside is frightful, Darling so frightful... But the fire is so deeeeli-ii-ii-iightful...[/i] [/center] The last of shivering couples begin to trickle in from the holiday's blizzard and into the toasty ballroom. Girl's shrug off their thin glittering shawls and guys slip ushers modest tips. Reds, greens, and gold with poinsettias adorning every corner; the smell of frost and champagne with the low hum of polite small talk. Long white columns lined two sides of the long room, serving as a place the shy or single could sulk or hide and eat the free food. The city's prestigious Moonlight Charity Ball was now officially in full swing. “As a spider would say: You are helplessly trapped. There is no hope for [i]you[/i] little fly.” The young man cradling the small of her back, pulls her closer and whispers directly into her ear, “You'll get no struggle from me, fair Spider. My only intention was to be caught in your web.” he spins her out and then inwards, catching her steady and making sure that his hands did not stray too low. [center][i]And since we've no place to go...[/i][/center] “You are as charming as you are talented, Mr. O’Shalna.” the corners of her eyes wrinkle with delight, "I can't wait to introduce you to father-- I'm sure he'll be here soon." “Please, call me Avan.” "I never imagined you to be so..." she thinks hard a moment as she lays her head on his shoulder, "...so human. And young...they said you were a holy man." "Twenty," he assures her, "and I may be a minister of earth, Miss Spider, but I assure you, I am also... one...hundred...per...cent... " and then he finishes the sentence so quietly, she has no choice but to lean in. And when she does: "Oh!" her cheeks flush a deep scarlet and she begins to giggle uncontrollably, ducking her head into his chest. He looks down at her, and then upwards across the room to meet his brother's speculative gaze. [i]Verona Spider. The senator's daughter? Smooth. Very smooth.[/i] Ulrich finally allows his eldest brother a moment of peace by returning his timid smile with a smirk and approving nod. [i]Lovable puff... As long as he's finally enjoying himself. She looks alright. Y'know for one of those techie girls, anyways...[/i] He turns and rubs his hands to eye the massive buffet of refreshments. A spread of jeweled berries and golden pine nectar on spotless white table cloth-- a new statement made by the city officials to honor their Fae guests. [center][i]Let it snow! Let it snow! Baby! Let it Snooooow![/i][/center] "Hey. You're a Faerie boy." "He's cute don't you think?" "Shush Pim-- this was your idea!" Ulrich turns slowly. Lips and chin already stained violet and red. His eyes widen, fearful. Three of them. There were [i]three[/i] of them. Each dressed in red with golden ribbons pinned to the sides of their dresses. Were they supposed to look like presents? [i]Gaia, forgive me[/i] "Look at his face, Ada!" "His cheeks are turning red!" "Like a short wittle angel! Right Nini?" Ulrich clears his throat, "Em' sorry my English is a little rusty... Ladies I [i]am[/i] a wittle Faerie boy, so please go easy on m-- Uuurph!" and on to the dance floor he went. Whereabouts the triplets proceeded to have absolutely no mercy. ---------------------------------- [center][i]When we finally kiss goodnight.. Oooo-o-ooo, How I'll hate going out in the storm...[/i][/center] "You came? Ah, I thought you might..." Helen forces a grin and then crosses her arms over her shoulders. "I came. Avan mentioned a good political opportunity for..." he paused and seemed to change his mind about something, "Do you dance?" "Huh, me? Nah, I've got two left feet." she lied. She did dance and she was actually very good at it too. But for a reason she couldn't quite understand, she didn't want him to know. It had been another gap of a few months since she's last seen him. They had hardly spoke at all. Why would they? They didn't even know each other that well. He looked very sharp in suit and tie."Right. Well, about that interview I still owe yo--" "Forget it tiger," she holds up her hands apologetically, "tonight is booked back to back with news I've got to feature. It was pretty much the only way I was allowed in." [center][i]The fire is slowly dying... And, my dear, we're still goodbying...[/i][/center] "Alright. I'll leave you to it, then" he flashes her a smile and waves as he turns in the direction of the dance floor alone, "By the way Helen that dress; it's--" The band swings up and really revs up the last line of the carol. The Pianist reaches up and grips the mic with both hands swells in a capella. And she briefly worries that Damien O'Shalna had just called her dress 'doable' or 'excusable' or worse 'use-able'. [center][i]But as long as you loooove me love me la-la-la-laaaa-huuu-vah me-ee so[/i][/center] Maybe. Just maybe... he said "beautiful". Young Ulrich wobbles from the dance floor covered in lip-prints. He throws himself to lean against the wall next to her, breathing hard. Helen turns to look at him and is about to ask him if he would like some water. But before she can ask, he takes a good eyeball at the slit in her gown and says, "Helen, right? Nice dress." he adds, "Looks do-able." [center][i]Let It Snow! Let it Snow! O yes! Let It Snooooooow![/i][/center] [/hider] [hider=Episode 3] [center][b]Less Timid Middles[/b][/center] She got through her interviews surprisingly fast. Or maybe it just seemed that way because she was drunk. The majority of the politicians she interviewed were one liners or snooze fests. With elections coming up, they were all too nervous or careful to be noteworthy. [[i]Uh-huh. Yeah. Yep. Adult literacy? Yeah, that's real swell.[/i]] One notable exception was Senator Blake J. Spider: The entire time he seemed distracted with watching his daughter dance with some Fae; and then after about a minute he holds the 'mute' button and stops her mid-questioning with: "You are not a journalist, Miss Fenten. Your Stream holds it's value as an entertainment program so let's not get glib, shall we?" He pauses to take a sip out of his martini and then adds, "Enjoy the hors d'oeuvres..." "Glib... Heh... We'll see who's glib..." Helen mumbles into her glass. She was at a resolve to drink; the entire party in her opinion was a little too high brow for her taste. Ball gowns. Jazz band. Caviar for snacks. [i]Bunch of glibs[/i], she fumes, and then snaps when a hand touches the back of her arm, "What do [i]you[/i] want-- oh. Damien. Hi. Again." [i]Does he notice how drunk I am? Better play it smooth.[/i] "Did I mention that suit looks glib. Good. Jesus, I meant [i]good[/i]." "You lied." he says flatly. "I did?" Helen stares at him a confused, and then remembers, [i]Ah, right...The dancing thing.[/i] "Let me make it up to you." "Nah, I'll leave the twirling to Avan and Ulrich. Schmucks." whether it is a coincidence or intuition, he holds out an arm for her to grab on to, "Need air. You?" [i]Shit. He knows.[/i] "I'm not drunk." "Relax." he smiles, "I am too." [center][img=http://i1367.photobucket.com/albums/r800/the_fauxtrot/6cc9b2a1-a9c5-4f32-8c4a-56390b4f8e6e_zps653841c4.png][/center] It was difficult to part-- if only for a moment for the father-daughter dance --Verona Spider had exceeded his expectations. More than that, Avan loved her. The night was only half over and he loved her, passionately. Just as he knew he would. It was why he asked her to dance with him in the first place. He couldn't tell her this, of course-- not yet anyways -- but there were somethings in life he just [i]knew[/i]. From the day his body was dug up from the bottom of Hemlock, it had been this way. Gaia whispered to him. It wasn't quite like the ability to tell the future, but it was close. He could just sense it in his gut when things were meant to be like nature had intended. Like the O'Shalna boy. Avan's chest tingles with fond memories. He remembers watching Damien stumble haggardly into his afternoon Botany seminar; dazed and confused. He knew right away to let him have his seat near the front and that offering him his personal copy of Folk scripture would be the right thing. Adopting Damien's city given name would be the [i]right thing[/i]. Bonding to him as kin would be the [i]right thing[/i]. Teaching him the ways of Gaia and principles of balance... it was remarkably more effortless than he could have ever imagined. Avan smiles warmly, "Ulrich." "Yeah but did you know she's one of them techie girls? I didn't think so at first but then I asked her." "Ulrich" "And that's another thing- she's got one of them Streams too. God. He's an idiot." "[i]Ulrich[/i]" "[i]Avan[/i]" The young man adjusts is tie and rolls up his sleeves before ladling nectar into a paper cone, "Calm down, will you?...'Sides..." says Avan lightly, "I think it's great he's making progress." "I wouldn't say that Fenten girl is progress." "I was watching you two earlier. She got you pretty hard, didn't she?" There was a long pause before the boy answered, and when he did, it was grudgingly; he rubbed his cheek where he had been slapped by her "...yeah...she's wild..." "You like her?" "That obvious?" "Painfully. But-- and I'm going to ask you this as a brother-- not your mentor. Let it go." "Consider it left." "I'm serious... they don't know it yet." Grabbing the back of his own neck Avan sighs and looks up, "But I know. I just know she's suppose to play a role in--" his eyes narrow and then he purses his lips as if he's said too much, "If you interfere Ulrich-- things might not pan out the way nature intended." "Yeesh. I get it old man. Hands off the tiger's kill. You know he barely speaks to her?" "He will. Give it time. If you let Gaia run it's own course, great things will come of it. Interfere and you'll be playing with fire." "Fire, huh?" "Yes. Fires that I might not be around to help you fan out." Ulrich slugs him in the arm halfheartedly, "You say that as if you're not going to live forever." "I might not..." The young man smiles sadly. "If I die. And really, I might; this Verona girl has already got me eating out of the palm of her hand. Take care of him. He's older. But you know better." "I bet you told him the exact same thing" [[i]Avaaaaan-- cedar-bear--where are you? I want you to meet my sister![/i]] He pretends to not hear that but glances at his watch and says "Excuse me." "Just what sort of holy man are you, mister?" Avan takes a long hard sip from his cup, shakes his head, and then pats his younger brother on the shoulder, "Nature isn't celibate, little man. It is a wild and unrelenting force that eventually conquers everything in it's path. Remember that." they both look up as Verona Spider calls out again giggling and cooing from across the room, "As for the future Mrs. Avan O'Shalna...well...there are just somethings, Ulrich, that even I cannot teach you." [center][img=http://i1367.photobucket.com/albums/r800/the_fauxtrot/Fancy-Line-Divider_zpsb0fd89d1.png][/center] You'd have thought they were just a couple of kids having a moment in the snow; linebacker arms planted into the brickwork just above her head. [i]Colgate. Weird that I already knew that...[/i] He wasn't much in the way of tongues, but she'd let that slide considering the circumstances. They were both half plastered and freezing their asses off. Not to mention scared shitless. At least she was. "Fnrrg! Gnrrarrg snnruff snrah!" "Urk! Urreh! Ssssst!" She could feel her heart beating through the roof of her mouth-- O'Shalna must have felt it too, because in attempt to calm her he dragged her left hand through the opening in his coat over his heart. No. Not his heart. It was his knife. [i]I am not surprised in the least.[/i] Their lips parted slowly. Very slowly. Eyes wide and tensed to move fast if they had to. The pair of them had been attempting 'deep' conversation for a while on the rooftop before hearing the noises below them. For Helen, it had felt similar to being caught at gun point with her pants down. A mixture of shock and terror so sudden, it left you dizzy and reeling. "There it is again--did you hear that?" she exhales sharply at sound of footsteps scurrying below. "Counted--Three, five maybe. They've got the damn building surrounded." "O'Shalna. When you said you needed some air, I just thought you wanted to get a leg up out back." "Here?" he said incredulous, "It's minus three out. And I didn't plan this." "Details...Details..." The sound of velcro being undone, snapping buttons, and the [i]shhhink-shh[/i] of a serrated knife being pulled and pushed in it's hilt. "Five. Don't look, they'll know we've spotted them." "What are those things?" "Goblins. Be quiet." "Can't you just go tiger mode and--" "Two things, Helen: (a).... I .... do not remember what (a) was... (b) Shut up. I'm still counting." "But-" he places a palm over her lips and continues murmuring under his breath. "Six, seven, eight.... shit .. eleven...?" [indent]"Errr-ulg-sss-oosssah!" "Roag--earp-ssss-laragh!!"[/indent] Goblin tongue is a hissing and horrible series of noises. It involves tongue clicking and guttural burping sounds: [indent]"Roarg-glarknock-knock-ootah-don" (Hey Jim. How's it goin'?) "Rrr-urgk-rot-rot!" (Get outta the kill zone, idiot! I told you to wait by the door!) "Blegh-urp" (Gee, I'm really sorry. How's the wife and kids? Anyways, Hoss says we're going raid the building. Is that true?) "Shh-sss-toomah-too-lakah!" (You stay away from my wife, Kyle. Yeah, we're going to blow this can of techie shit wide open.) "ssssssssssssss-p-fffttalec!!!" (Golly, I dunno if I wanna hurt anyone Jim, it looks like there's some Fae in there too.) "Nuzack-nuutah-kurrrr" (Too bad. What Hoss says, goes. Have you got your arrows ready?) "oomah-oomahtoolag" (Yep, I sure do!) "ssss-t-t-sssstug" (Good. Get back to your post, asshat.) "Shakah-kurt-erpsss" (Merry Christmas, Jim!) "Krrrulg-blert-bort-borgk" (If I don't see you again. At least die quietly.)[/indent] [center][b][i][To be continued...][/i][/b][/center][/hider] [u]Tahl[/u] [hider=Episode 1] [center][b]Avan-Sol[/b][/center] Tahl rubbed his chin. It was a long one that required a bit of rubbing. “Can anyone tell me the importance of Gaia?” There were a few pipes of a flute and some hands. But he ignored them, “In the context of recent events.” a few hands went down and he waited. Slowly, he watched them from behind his oak stump-podium one by one lowering. All except one. “Dirk?” A tall elven boy stood, towering pre-adolescent an impressive six feet over nine, “Avan-sol” “In English” replied his professor. The boy looked around at his classmates, eyeing them each with a cool gaze, ‘ele zhal’la usstan’ he said, which Tahl roughly translated the western dialect as ‘Why should I?’. Tahl nodded, thoughtfully. He was not a harsh educator; minor insolence was tolerated so long as it was passionate. “I can wait for as long as it takes, Dirk Aearhil.” It was another moment before the elf spoke, “Avan-sol” he began, “it means Avan’s whispered history. Gaia, is the Earth. Avan was her sig’nil-- her defender. Without Gaia, all of us will die.” the boy rammed his palms hard into the grass for emphasis. “The Sea Tigers will take his place.” “Nay! The King!” a few pixies chanted, and cried out at Dirk. “Ulrich will protect us!” the elven boy did not look impressed. “The Monarch of Ulrich? Oh aye, lovelies. But, I highly doubt the Boy King is going to stray far enough from his tree long enough to take action let alone exact vengeance.” At once, they erupted into debate; a number of dialects and languages each professing their own vehement professions on the behalf for each faction. “SILENCE!!!” screamed one gnome. And by some miracle, they did. The high-pitched shrillness of a gnome often had this effect. “Now,” said the gnome, “Can’t you see? Sea Tigers. King Ulrich. It’s all the same side.” murmurings of grudging agreement at this, “Besides...both of them will fail. It’s obvious isn’t it? It is the Brotherhood that will strike first.” Before anymore of his pupils could refute this Tahl spoke, “This rebellion,” using a hoof he drew out each faction crest in the dirt. An arrow a hammer with some water for the Sea Tigers, a spiraled leaf for Ulrich's Monarch. For the Brotherhood however, he left a blank space in the earth- for they had no sign. “This rebellion,” he began again, “is driven by three different schools of thought. Each with valid and supported views. But did you know, students-- pay attention please-- did you know that each faction is led by others not much older than yourselves? The Boy King, himself has only just begun to develop the abilities of our kind,” he raised a hand and paced the length of the circle formed by his students. He liked teaching outside. Things were more peaceful; the soft earth is much easier on a satyr’s old hooves. “Sea Tiger’s ferocious leader? Why, I should say he’s probably suffering from the same thing half of you are right. Now. At. This. Very. Moment-- Whimple! Hands off the pixie this instant. This is the last time I’m going to warn you” “T’was only a kiss, sir, honest-- I mean if I were head of the Sea Tigers ‘misself, would I be twice as noble?” Laughter. Leprechauns, Tahl thought, were the least serious of all Fae. Their command of the human language- by far superior- was phrased in a riddle, or limerick that was best ignored. “As I was saying--” “Rain!” someone shrieked. The old satyr sighed. The class ending was ended before his point was made. He gathered his book and papers- half tempted to snack on a page or two, but thought his wife’s dinner gave him pause. Lecturing them at this age. It was practically hopeless. And the humans really think that they have it bad—some inflamed skin and sprouting hair—BAH! Fae ‘puberty’ is by far worse. Just the other day his entire lesson plan was disrupted when-- “P-Professor?” He glanced up, a page from today’s lesson plan already half chewed, “Mm-ph. Heh-hem. Yes? Nimmy, dear you look like you have something on your mind” The rain began to sprinkle a little harder and he gestured for her to walk with him into the denser canopy. Under there he could clearly see that it wasn’t just the rain on her face. “Well, I... the Park... do you think...” “Nimmy,” he said suddenly, fishing deep in his tweed jacket until he found a handkerchief, “Do you know the importance of Gaia?” “Gaia is life.” “It is” the old satyr agreed, “But Avan, was not her defender… I believe that Avan was Gaia.” His last words were drowned out by a sudden boom in thunder and lightning. He shielded himself from the flash of light in the distance and when he turned to the child once more she was already on her way. “Thank’s a lot for the lesson today Professor! S-See you tomorrow!” she called from over her shoulder, her voice choppy from behind sheets of rain. [/hider]