View difference between Paste ID: FHLf8cvt and mLZKr57R

--too much faffing about? Cut first two sections with Goll and Allison, start at inside shop with Walter
+---
--Goll's measurements inaccurate or has freakish proportions?
+
--Allison's knowledge justified? Conflicts with first chapter? (She declares having a history major in this chapter, but the temple where Goll came from is largely unknown to her [plus she knows off-hand about the sea bishops' history])
+Whyyyyy?
--Change plans from attempts at writing Slice of life to five stages of grief? But the drinking party!
+
--Too verbose?
+I can feel my lungs breathing evenly and smoothly as I panic and heave. My feet stride forward slowly in the still falling snow even though I’m commanding my heels to gouge and drag through the ground. But half of that’s just me banging and screaming on a window made of myself, no points for guessing which half. HA! Who’s guessing- LET ME OUT.
 
 Brain walks at this torturous and leisurely pace. Bastard knows this is upsetting me too, takes some sort of... delight from it. It's like a teacher getting ready to flaunt their superior knowledge to a stupid student.
-There’s the shop, got a guest, have to make her presentable! Have to see if Walter still wants a model to advertise around the city! Last four ran away but two posed for some photos. Kristie looked sooo good in that halterneck one piece (teal, neck to crotch, but SOOO much sideboob). The posters I got made are still in the shop too, guys come a lot to look at 'em. Walter doesn't wanna print copies, doesn't tell me why. I think it's to keep them coming back to the shop and buying stuff there, can totally see that. Marketing is enticing people. Maybe not with boobs, but with ass, or abs, or fluffy, whatever. I'm helping!
+
 Gooooodsdamnit- New plan! Have to get busy finding my happy place.
-Ooh, lookie! Showers that'll get her nice and clean and not salty. Hooray! If she dries, the salt will make her hair super gross. Blech.
+
 He took control because I got wound up tighter than a human-lamia couple on a full moon, so maybe if I feel the opposite way… Or is it that he has to be stressed? … Or does he have to be happy? … … Don’tthinkaboutwhatmakeshimhappydon’tthinkaboutwhatmakeshimhappy-
-Why is salt so gross on everybody but me, and Eudora, and Mitzy, and Janice, and Jenny, and those sea bishops that say they’re lost? Yeah, they call themselves lost, but they have a refurbished 2,500 year old temple, centuries of preserved oral and written traditions, and holy artifacts from their moms, grandmas, great-grandmas, great-great grandmas, great-great-great-grandmas, and are totally not completely lost.
+
 “Stabbystabbystabbystabby- I can’t believe I’m still narrating my own thoughts and feelings. Forget it all, I’m about to move on with my life.”
-Okay! Water's flowin' so now I gotta squirm under here and there. Don't need these metal knee pads or these leggy things or breastplate (breast plates? 'Cause there's two boobs, not one) or shoulder pads or helmet. Pile ‘em next to the shop now, get 'em back later. Now the armour won’t catch her hair, so now I undo this enormous braid.
+
 Why? Why?! I have peace here, no one chasing me, a stable living space, nice things- I can actually say when was the last time I attended a party or a festival! PartIES and festivalS even! I can be more than just sane, I can be h-
-Now the silks! Waaaaahhhhh, the sillllllk... so much salt. So much waste! This stuff looks pretty tough though for silk. I'm being suuuper careful and suuuper fast, but still thought I'd tear them taking 'em off her. Maybe it isn't silk and I can just wash it all into being okay? 'Cause this embroidery is GORRRRgeous (there's gold in it, I think it's real).
+
 “Stop repeating myself. Instead of arguing against why I should close myself off, think about what the consequences are for staying close to others.
-If I can, I'll clean it all! Even save some time by cleaning her wing props with her! She'll be the prettiest super nerd at whatever nerd thingy she's going to. But first, clean, clean, scrub, scrub, gotta get eeeevery curve (Bust B86), eeeevery cranny (Waist 71) eeeevery- (Hips 9-) oh"WOWTHESEWINGSAREREAL!"
+
 “Charlotte Dodd. The Open Sky tribe. Oartinal. Tocrod and her assistants. Faux Fox and his bouncing traveling stick. The fucking inquisitors. It's always one of three stories, each just as predictably written as the other.
-===
+
 “The world is just an enormously fucked up play, featuring the monsters with their "don’t go"s, the Church and their "patch him up and bring him back tomorrow"s, and the independent guys with their "want to run with me"s, all trying to make me stay. And what role would I have played according to the scripts? A slave, a test subject, or a criminal.”
-Amidst the whirling of those gangly appendages attached to a suddenly chattering mockery of a woman, I can barely see a thing. Between gaps in the kraken's grip, a torrent of rain falls upon me from a steel flower with a broken stem. An interesting bit of metalwork but one I cannot contemplate at this moment. Not while any dregs of dignity I have left are zealously scrubbed away with the sand and salt by queer looking blobs smelling vaguely of honey. Words trying to be just as sweet follow, again at that nigh incomprehensible speed. What I manage to snatch with my ears brings me the lone relief that language has changed little during my sleep. Otherwise, there is only a dread feeling of having become swine being fattened up for slaughter, a corpse being beautified for a funeral.
+
 I-
-The constant echo of Her, my God and master, becomes something to seek solace in and draw strength from. However, it's words and meanings are lost to me amidst all this chaos. What comfort I gain from Her is merely habitual rather than conscious. I bite my tongue behind sealed lips, using the pain to ignore the less than mild sensations my captor's cleaning is causing. Never will the monster have the satisfaction of hearing my voice in any way other than in protest or screaming for her blood.
+
 “Shut it. The script this time is with a monster, so I know the ending is slavery. I'm the only actor who’s ever gone off-script and ran every time before the finales, and godsdamnitall is the end always so fucking predictable. Why do I expect this time to be any different?”
-I think of smashing the heel of my palm into her nose.
+
 Do you remember what our last record for staying out of the hands of the Church's cells and monsters' beds was? One month. And that was with constant dodging of patrols, slipping into dark alleyways, and holding my breath under a river of mud. And how long have we been here? Little over eight months, living in a single location with nice things we couldn’t even dream of having before (like chairs and fresh socks).
-The squeak of metal signals the disappearance of rain. Slippery hooks are replaced by soft dry cloths, thoroughly intruding on my body again. Gentle but vigorous tugs on my hair and wings inform me of the many cloths or rags soaking great amounts of water, as did the sound of them splattering on the ground just below me. It suddenly occurs to me that cloth tends to be much more durable when wet.
+
 “It doesn't matter how long the new record is, only when it ends. That end is about to come rushing at me at full speed, probably tackling me onto a bed and ripping my pants off, forgetting the effect she has on me before making my head explode. That last bit with the dying is the only part not according to the script.”
-I think of punching her ribs, making her bow before breaking her neck.
+
 What script? Palamina is not the typica-
-Every monster has warrior potential, thus I treat them as such to a point. Death by choking or suffocation, is no honourable or clean death. Dueling the kraken is suicidal. However, since a wet rag may be my only tool, could I throw it over her eyes and escape? The thought becomes more appealing as the tentacles binding my wrists and ankles slacken. Such relief I have not known since flying far, far away from the largest catacombs in the eastern continent. It was a week well spent mapping it out, but no less disquieting.
+
 “The script that every monster follows even if they don’t realize it, a set of lines and action cues which are ingrained in their very beings. A script that is ESPECIALLY apparent if someone survives the first ten seconds of contact and acts friendly towards them at any damned time. Have I been paying ANY attention at all in the past few years?”
-Crouching on all fours as I land brings my first weapon since awakening into reach. My captor backs away, a bright smile on her freckled countenance and arms crossed under her chest. The tentacles are wide apart and not guarding a thing. Splendid.
+
 I-
-“Now let’s take a good look at y-”
+
 “Let me make this absolutely clear. It was okay when that lilim just wrote letters from far, far away and I could just string her along. IT IS NOT OKAY TO LET HER INDIRECTLY MARK ME AS HER'S AND HELP HER GET IN HUGGING RANGE OF ME.
-SWAK!
+
 “… Damn, it's cold. Now how close am I to the plateau?”
-“OW!”
+
 We're less than fifty feet away from the hunk of crystal that used to be home and NOW you think about that? Should have at least brought the big coat before you left.
-===
+
 How likely is it that she didn't do the ritual at all and just created crystals for fun?
-"Listeners! KYUM is back from commercials at the right time. 7:30 AM time! Breakfast time! Meaning- say it with me now- It's letter time! It's letter tim-" *Click*
+
 “And why would I want that to be the case?”
-Damn. This means Cali’s extra late again.
+
 Well personally I want to see you get stopped dead from a suddenly blood-bloated skull. Well maybe not DEAD-dead, but-
-Sort of. Whatever. Still early enough that no one’s comin’, ‘specially with them all gathering by the Old Rumour. ... What's left of it anyway. I can get why it's being demolished this early in the morning, but shit, were the birds even awake yet?
+
 “I get it. Plus I've made a very deadly point... I should have waited for someone else to check that-”
-Half an hour ago, I'd just started hauling out the racks onto the floor (which Cali was supposed to do) when the sound of… sound of… eight giant wet rubber balls rolling on sand and concrete suddenly went by? Damnit, I know I had something better for this. Eh. 'Member it later maybe.
+
 TOOM!
-Anyway, that sound meant Cali caught a new doll to play with- not literally this time though. What was her name, Milly with the ball joints that didn’t get jammed full of wetsuit when she bent her arms and legs? S’nothing new anyway. This is like, the fifth- sixth- girl? I can't stop her, so I just let her. No harm, no biggie. 'Cept that one mom who threatened to sue, her body's a husband's zone only and all that jazz. Glad we got that sorted out quick enough.
+
 “New hole in the back of the cave. Aw damnit.”
-… Welp. The walls are lined with Jenny's latest surfboards, racks of suits and gear have been pulled onto the floor, and counter's clean as a whistle (I have no hope for the dressing rooms after tentacle rape and tentacle rapee get in here). The Seaside Garage is open and this month's issue of 'Brave Dudes' got here before me, so no rush. Maybe we can get another poster model too. Funny though. I haven't heard any whining or moaning. Cali’s never gentle with them. Guess this one's putting up a better fight?
+
 Ha HA! It has to be her! And we’re so damn close that this means it worked! It worked! … And I’m not in control.
-Shit, whatever. Time to put my feet up and get some reading done before the first customer comes in.
+
 Aw damn, it worked.
-"Hey! Hey, where'd ya go? Come back!"
+
 “Yep! In a few minutes, I’ll be back on the road again and I can make new friends and enemies. Keep my life fresh and not keeping dangerously deep connections with humans who would turn me over to the Church or monsters that would try to rape me.”
-Spoke too soon. Don't even need to look or listen to know what’s happenin’ next. Checklist!
+
 ---
-Cali's latest doll bursts in.
+
 ~~~
-"You there! What arms do you stoc- tower shields?"
+
 Pricking myself upon a crystal and holding my finger there had the intended effect, gradually restoring my strength for as long as I held contact. Didn’t need too much though. Just enough to make an exit to crawl out of. A bit crude and dangerous, but thankfully the explosion did not jolt the crystals into shattering and flooding the cave like sand.
-Cali’ll come up from behind and latch onto her again.
+
 I jump down twenty feet, from the highest point on the plateau that isn't smothered in crystal, wings wobbling and fluttering more than they should be. I know the cold wind and snow should be biting, but it's sheer child's play to insulate myself with a sliver of magic despite my weakened state. Yet, I’d rather not use too much energy right now, not even to dye my hair my preferred shade of pink again. I’m refreshed physically, but a break would still be very much welcome.
-“There you are!”
+
 Ahhh, I wonder about the future. John needs to see an apothecary or a physician. How should I change the governing of my realm? I’m certainly not about to hide myself away anymore. What should we research in the future? John’s condition? Simplifying or finding alternatives to the ritual? The site needs to be cleaned up in case I need to do the dance again, now that I think about it. I’d rather not have that experience a second time though.
-“no, No, NO, AWAY! Away with you!”
+
 All that to accomplish before my aura comes back in full force, perhaps in a century or so?
-Then all sorts of swimsuits get ripped off the racks with, like, four swimsuits to each free tentacle.
+
 Maybe all I need is to spend a week sitting in the town square, watching my people pass by, talking with them, savouring a little bread and water, and every now and then chatting with him for as long as he can stay… Yes. Yes, that first.
-“Gotta try this, and this, and this, andthisandthisandthis-”
+
 The snow has made a fine thin blanket on the ground and is still falling. I take a few tentative steps in no direction in particular. I’m not sure what exactly to do with myself right now. True, the ritual succeeded and it did not blow up in my face. I certainly no longer feel the same amount of demonic energy as I used to. But as of yet, there is no -krnch- proof that my presence -krnch- will make LESS monsters -Krnch- and humans fall to -Krnch- ecstasy in my presenc- -Krnch.-
-“Tentacled bitch! Traitorous hound! You will both rue your choices this day!”
+
 Oh!
-Man, I’m going to have give a talking to Cali when after she’s done. Get her to put everything away and fucking clean up before she busts out the camera. She probably used all the towels again too. Oh right, and the last thing on the list is that right before Cali’s doll gets pulled through to the changing rooms-
+
 Someone has been creeping up on me from my right, a hint of brown is in the corner of my eye. But it’s the lack of noise that startles me more. No sudden moans, no drawn-out groans, no panting pleas for release, no slurred thanks for arousing their loins…
-ThwapThwap!
+
 The ritual worked! I can throw caution to the wind and do everything I’ve wanted to do for the past century! All our effort, all our work has come to fruition! As I turn, I wonder who is bearing witness to my renewa- John! It can’t be anyone else, what other man could be here so quickly? I’m glad it’s him, I’m really glad it’s him.
-She’ll make a list ditch effort and grab onto the doorframe, straining until the last finger or claw finally gives.
+
 With less than ten feet of freezing air and still falling snow between us, I look upon him for the first time and the atmosphere suddenly becomes... heavy. He stands like a dignified man, both hands behind his back and chest forward. The pose is strange to me, seemingly at odds with his flippant writing style. He doesn't seem as excited as I am or perhaps he is waiting for me to make the first move. ... It's unbelievable, perhaps, the success I mean. We anticipated it, made some rough plans on what to do afterwards, but now that the moment is here... Well, I suppose we're speechless.
-“Traitor! TRAITOR TO THE HUMAN RACE!”
+
 The excitement in me, the girl with too many honeyed sweets in her system, wants to get out, but I struggle to keep her down. We should celebrate, have some fun, but the moment just doesn't seem right for that.
-Glad the place is solid as a rock, but the frame’s gonna get a new set of claw marks or dents or whatever when Cali overpowers ‘em. I like those though. S'like decorating and not having to pay for it. Even says something about how big our clientele is.
+
 Still, I finally get to drink in the looks of my closest friend. From top to bottom, he has thick brown hair lying flat, but partially unkempt around the left. His face is a bit pale and gaunt, likely from his illness, and covered in small unshaven hairs. Thin lips that are as straight as a line and his roundish-almond shaped eyes are a surprisingly dark green, like pine trees in the shade. He’s actually shorter than I am, though not by much, coming up to the middle of my forehead. Even though he's fully covered, his clothing looks a bit thin for the weather. The thickest thing on him are his boots and following that is a vest that looks more casual than functional. They hang a bit loosely, likely from weight loss from vomiting so often. If he were at full health though, I imagine he’d look a bit wide but fighting fit. … … Finally. This is John up close. He’s just standing there, not saying a word, staring like a statue like he's waiting for me to move first. It's starting to get unnerv-
-“Whose squalid bed do you lay in each night to forget your inaction?”
+
 Ah. I’d barely noticed since they look so different, but his jaw isn't dislocated nor are his ears hanging unnaturally low. The little girl in me giggles at this dumb little realization. An involuntary and very loud giggle escapes my physical form, as does a progressive upward curling of the corners of my mout- Oh, forget the formality! I’m happy! Excited! Joyful! ECSTATIC! I realize I’m laughing, laughing a high-
-Aaaaaany second now.
+
 ~~~
-“To forget that you allow your life to STAGNATE, your dreams to WITHER, and your memories to DIE?!”
+
 ---
-Damn, girl. You’re gonna tear the frame off at this rate, I can hear it bending. “Cali! Did you remember to eat this morning? Shouldn’t take you this long to doll someone up.”
+
 -Pitched girlish sound flows around us. I don’t know if it’s because of her monsterness or whatever, but it’s like listening to bells. There’s nothing but joy in there as she bounces up and down on her left foot, then her right, lifting her left, then right, left, right- Come on, can you really ruin this scene? Look at her river of white hair waving about-
-===
+
 With grotesque black horns large and smooth enough to gore a man straight through if they weren’t wrapping around her forehead.
-My Master's last words ring true! A new age must rise in a world that has forgotten Her sting. Though I shout and struggle with all the fury I can muster, a bit of curiosity and rationality seeps out, finding the sight I have narrowed in on very strange.
+
 Eyes that could almost fit almonds in them-
-The thin and lean man wears sandals dyed red, and muscular tanned legs are partially covered by haphazardly patterned blue and pink short pants. They look as if the designer simply slashed them with colour, never refreshing his brush until the paint finally faded from the tips then doing it over and over again. The man wears nothing on top to accompany it, not even hair, but numerous bracelets and cloth wrappings of many colours and patterns adorn both his arms from wrist to shoulder. No signs of nobility, but the style doesn't seem to be a freeman's or peasant's either.
+
 Like glowing coals and no doubt burning with lust.
-Stranger still is the counter he has propped his feet upon. It appears to be entirely made of glass set in a thin brass framework. Numerous items that I cannot identify line the inside, sorted by shape on two levels. Looking at the vast difference in appearance between the shop and it's possible proprietor, I can’t imagine at all what class of people it serves. And what he said, ‘doll someone up,’ what could that mean? What other changes or evolutions in language have I missed? How much TIME has passed?
+
 Small lips coloured red-
-“Oh! NoIdidn’tbutGoldieneedsclothesfirst! Ifoundheronthebeachandshewassoakedtotheboneand-”
+
 Probably with blood from her own bitten lip, done in anticipation of throwing me to the ground.
-Gold? Did she mention gold? Call me such? I am indeed fair of hair and and feathers, but I’m certainly not a passing piece of currency or any representative of greed.
+
 Pink, almost white skin JUST visible against the snow-
-“Not gold, but Göll! You damned-”
+
 That the temptress tries to expose more of with a deliberate pattern of tears in her ill-fitting top.
-WHUCK!
+
 Large wings folded inward and partially hiding her thighs-
-That was a mistake! Turning my head to scream at the kraken is a mistake. Fingers slip, the rock-like grey floor rushes upwards, and my jaw slams hard against it. I fling my arms forward, drive all my nails into the stone to avoid being dragged further in. Useless struggle, but a struggle nonetheless.
+
 Either pair bearing the threat of locking me between them.
- A prolonged obscenity warps into a furious scream. Ten long grooves marr the floor. And still the human refuses to look up from whatever he is reading.
+
 Dancing in the snow with long, thin legs in almost bare feet. Can't remember those black what-were-those-called wrapping around her heels-
-I keep struggling and cursing. Wings twitch, arms and legs strain, voice bellows, all declaring no surrender! Not to a monstrous god and certainly not to any monster! Especially one wishing to dress me for the fatal conclusion I draw from glimpsing the skimpy clothes she carries.
+
 Stirrup pants, they were the new thing among noblewomen where we were hiding a year ago, she's cut off the thigh cloth though and wrapped her calves in some loose sleeve things. Apparently in addition to being the monster to end all monsters (aside from the Demon Lord), she doesn't wear proper pants. Are those even pants around her hips? She's cut them so short that her butt is almost- wait, that isn't the point here!
-Ritual sacrifice.
+
 For the love of the gods, listen to myself! It takes but a glance to be enticed by a lilim if what I've read in the past is true and I've been STARING at her!
-===
+
 Well I’m just observing, you’re being angry, so clearly we’re not falling head over heels in boot-licking ‘love.’ She’s probably got her energy under control, so just stop planning a counterattack and we can-
-Makeover!
+
 Or maybe she’s weakened! A once in a lifetime opportunity. Have to get her when she least suspects it. That lilim WILL try to rape me once she realizes I’m not falling for her, so she has to get close and that’s when this knife behind me goes shooting up straight up her insi- WHUMP!
-Weeeeeeeeee!!!
+
 				  !!
-===
+         AAA			!
         A   A     AAA  AAA    !    HHHH
-So a half hour passes. A long, long, long half hour staring at my phone sitting on the counter and the metal armour next to it. Both make me think of how Cali’s probably managed to wrangle in some fucking paladin cultist nut. Shit.
+       AA    A   AA  AAA  A  !    HH   HH
         AA    AAA         A   ! HH      !!
-When I put down my magazine in the first five minutes and started noticing exactly what Cali’s doll was and still is yelling, I wasn’t worried. There’s that convention up north and we get a lot of people passing through the city on their way up every year. More of them than I’d think are kinda schizo and try way too hard to act like who they’re dressed up as (or tried to dress up as at least). It’s actually kind of bad given the fucked up paladin cult that runs around here, but it’s usually pretty easy to tell which nutjob is which nutjob.
+         AA	      HHHAHHHHHH       !!   !!!
         III	     H  H      !      !! !!    !
-But, uh… It’s that costume of her’s that’s worrying me. Sure, blacksmiths get hired by con-goers all the time to make metal armour, but what I’ve got here probably isn’t really a costume. Even though it's all nowhere near clean as a whistle, I picked up the stuff from the showers and stowed it all behind the counter after seeing what was hanging between the boob plates.There's this pendant or brooch with a shape that’s practically a gang sign in this city, or rather a cult.
+       III           H H        !     !!      !
         III                      !  !!  !!     !
-The symbol of the fucking Church, a diamond that's been hole-punched too close four times at the edges, fastened or welded or something- I dunno how smithing works- sticking out like a sore thumb for everyone to see. Piece of shit symbol's so taboo in Bastford that there are laws against it. For one, costume nerds are required to hide, or deface if they can’t move it, that thing while in the city. Only the stupid cultists wear it so openly.
+iiiIIIIIII                         !!    !!!!!!
 
-Cali should have realized who this bitch is, right? She undressed her.
+
 GODSDAMNIT, SHE FUCKING TACKLED ME-
-"Walllterrr! Weee'rrre dooone nowww!"
+
 HA HA! Good!! Now enjoy the flight! I know I am!
-"And yet I am STILL NOT RELEASED!"
+
 ~~~
-Hoo boy.
+
 "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehahaha! Thankyouthankyouthankyou-"
-I stay quiet and glare as my only employee cheerfully slips out of the changing rooms with a growling human bitch trapped and trailing behind her, held in the air by wrists and legs. First time Cali's brought in a human actually. She must have been drawn to those looks, that unnatural perfection in monsters but on a human. Thought I was used to that by now, but she seems… Different. Can’t tell how. Long and straight blonde hair with a golden hue, small green eyes, thin brows that look permanently arched in anger, a button nose, and not too large lips on a heart shaped head sitting on top of an athlete's toned body. ... Goddamn, she is a real treat.
+
 ~~~
-Cali's picked out something kinda modest for once. Blue, azure, looks like one of those leotards that ballet dancers wear but with the back and two ovals big enough to show off the stomach and some cleavage. Kind of surprised a two piece didn't make the cut but I guess it’s because of those six - "Holy shit. Are those real?"
+
 ---
-===
+
 Oh gods, I’m heading for her bed aren’t I? AREN’T I?!
-“YES! THEY ARE!”
+
 Nah, nah, we’re just pinned in her arms and flying around in a yarn ball of a pattern. It’s a celebration! We’re pressed so tight together and hair keeps whipping around my eyes, kind of annoying. Whatever! Enjoying the moment now and YOU. CAN’T. STOP MEEEEEE.
-All three pairs of my wings, tucked close against my back until now, snap outwards and upwards, full and proud. I feel the kraken’s tentacles shift and contort in shock at my sudden movement, making way for my golden feathers.
+
 NO! I still have a chance to turn this around. I still have the knife. Can't move enough-
-"Now release me and give me answers or would you prefer I give you both death?!” If I could just reach SOMETHING sharp.
+
 ---
-I scowl at the shop's proprietor, whom I presume is named Walter, watching his mouth and eyes widen in surprise... Then in anger.
+
 ~~~
-The kraken turns on her waist and brings me closer, pleading in panic, “What- no. Nononono, we just-”
+
 Everything’s wonderful now! No more hiding! No more second-hand accounts of festivals! Now I can actually attend what I plan! Today will be a new national holiday with dancing, singing, sweets, and toys! Oh, let’s not get carried away. Except I already have and see no need to stop spiralling through the air with a friend and laughing my thanks to his face. Or maybe he can’t hear me at all, and I’m just scaring him now. Surely not. Still, we have to talk about the future.
-“Allison.” Every syllable from his mouth carries weight, said painfully slow.
+
 Slowly, I ease into an upright position in-flight. My laughter fades, but my mouth refuses to turn to any position except smiling. Something that falters once I get a good look at John. His eyes are wide, and the cold air from his breathing is coming out in quick puffs of fear. If it's from the temperature, the flight, both, or something else, calming him should be my priority. … Or maybe at least making sure he heard my thanks.
-“meep.” Her attention shifts instantly. Chastised and fearful, she slowly turns away from me to face him. These are not the looks of what passes for lovers between monsters and humans. What is their relationship?
+
 … Just one more time.
-“Keep her still while I call the cops.” The bald man holds a small tablet made of polished stone in one hand, tapping at it with only his thumb. Odd clicks that sound otherworldly or are perhaps muffled accompany the focused and angry expression on his face. How exactly does he expect to summon ‘cops,’ whomever they are, with a stone? Magic?
+
 … ... I don’t think I can do it enough times though.
-The kraken named Allison hesitates for a second before releasing one of my legs and silently flinging that tentacle plus three more at Walter. Wrist, forearm, upper arm, shoulder, each bound tight enough to make him suddenly drop the stone. My eyes follow it, seeing my breastplate resting on the counter as I hear the stone’s clatter.
+
 To my discomfort, he never loses that petrified look during our slow descent. I loosen my grip as we land, sliding my hands up to his shoulders. John’s reaction was to shiver all the way through, unmistakably in fear. His eyes swivel up and down, but his head remains locked in place, scanning me like a mouse waiting for a cat's next move. Oh, John. Surely after all we’ve done, you know I mean you know harm? I’d just like to finally show my gratitude properly.
-"Allison. I don’t care about any pictures. I don’t care that you WANT pictures.” His face never loses its grim and dour look.
+
 ~~~
-Again, that heaviness to saying what must be her name. And again the kraken responds with a meek, “meep,” but doesn't let go. Would it be too much to hope that these two begin to argue so intensely that I can escape from here? My duty to the Chief God and my sisters has been put off long enough.
+
 ---
-“What do you think she is?” He asks in a low voice, as if afraid of the answer.
+
 Her eyes are molesting me. Also her hands.
-“Easy! History was my major in university. Goldie here is a valkyrie! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Far too easily does the kraken’s demeanour change from fear to cheerful eagerness. It's infuriating to see her instantly forgetting that she is being scolded. And once more she corrupts my na- Wait. She is educated? In history she says?
+
 She’s waiting for US to celebrate, not just her. The feelings should be mutual (well, actually it is but damn you, brain).
-"Kraken." My simple utterance draws the attention of both Walter and Allison. "You are a scholar?"
+
 I don’t understand. That lilim should be forcing the mutualness by now.
-With a smile and a nod, the red squid woman claps her hands once before saying, "Yep! I specialize in post Leaderless War society but I know a lot of stuff off-hand 'cause of my thesis. It was on why the gods and their servants disappearing 700 years ago led to more rapid demilitarization here in the modern era. My professor loved it! I'm super proud of that!"
+
 That’s why you haven’t attacked her yet?
-… Wh- … D- Di- … Disappearing? Disappearing?! "DISAPPEARING?!?! What do you mean by that? Answer me!” Writhing. Straining! RAGING! And I finally succeed at making these living bindings budge, even if only by a miniscule amount. Both man and monster flinch, nearly tumbling backwards at my outburst, as they should! She loosens her grip and I finally break free, nearly hitting the floor before flapping my wings furiously. Rage turns to strength as I tower over my paralyzed audience, head crashing into and cracking the ceiling.  “My Master can’t have left this world, HUMANITY, alone with the monsters! She CAN’T have! Her great endeavour is timeless, devoid of surrender or compromise! She! Her servants! My sisters! All of them can’t have just… left…”
+
 Up to something, but what?
-It is suddenly very quiet as I choke on my last word. Aside from Her echo in myself, only the sound of wingbeats, steadily slowing down until I hover just above the ground, fills the silence. Anger fades, replaced by a great tightness in my chest. What the monster said, it’s much too mad a thing for me to believe. But she says it with such confidence. Am I alone? Completely and truly?
+
 Nothing at all. Just nothing at all.
 
 A lie. It can’t be anything else, can it?
-Why would that be the case? This has to be a trick. Some devil or wizard is hiding in the shadows casting foul magics on my mind. And even if such a trickster does not exist, I am hearing the claim from the mouth of a monster. Or… Or perhaps it is all true but the Chief God will make a glorious return once enough heathen blood has been spilled. Yes. Yes! Her echo calls for me to sound a new battle cry! I will bring her about again in a new crusade! The shopkeep and kraken are only the start, but- Heaven! Surely if not on the ground, it is in Heaven where I will find my answers! Perhaps the ability to communicate has been cut off or something else has occurred.
+
 Let go of the knife.
-Yet, if She did not contact me before the great exodus that the kraken claims to have occurred seven centuries ago… and remains only as an echo inside me… … What’s the point in any of these ideas?
+
 No.
-My Master's echo... It hurts to hear Her because it isn’t Her. I don't care that such a thought is blasphemy. She chose me to remember the gospel. Did my Master anticipate this vanishing of the gods? Am I to create an order where not one prayer can be answered because no one is listening? Force others to take action for nothing? Usurp the Chief God's place and play pretender until Her unlikely return? Unthinkable! Yet it is the only recourse offered to me by those last words. I must obey. Should I not?
+
 Let go.
-Valkyries spend all their lives connected to the Chief God. Her presence shines in the body, mind, and soul. It is not only for receiving orders, but for giving us faith that She will always be there. The tangibility of the Chief God is a core reason for being a member of the faith. So what church can I build with no foundation?
+
 No!
-The clear path is gone. There is no one to believe in. Just an ember. It smolders and may never attain its former glory again.
+
 ---
-I am beyond caring that my stricken heart must be showing on my face. The man is frozen, showing no emotion yet his complete lack of movement says that he is afraid. The kraken is staring, not in wonder, but uncertainty... or perhaps pity.
+
 ~~~
-“... Kraken.” my voice is firm, but wavering. My former captor flinches. “Explain all that has happened in the past 700 years. Leave nothing out.”
+
 John’s expression finally changes from fear to something between confusion and surprise. A cocked eyebrow, a slight tightening of his still wide eyes, lips parting to finally form words.
-If I must decide on my own what judgment to pass on this new world, the circumstances must be made clear.
+
 I’m still too excited to wait.
-“I- I- I- uhh… Uh, I can’t. My thesis is, err uh, dunno-” She can’t find the words. It should be amusing to see this. Should be.
+
 My face shoots forward to meet his.
-“Please. I need to know."
+
 ~~~
-“... … Okay. That uh, that spot of history is my specialty. Kind of. I can go home for my old textbooks and junk. Maybe-”
+
 ---
-“Get on with it. Whatever you know, right now." I beg.
+
 Brain sputters silently, panicking and turning desperate. Even as he tries to pull back from Palamina’s puckered lips, the body we’re sharing is being dragged forward by her arms. I can still feel the knife’s handle and the death grip on it.
-The shopkeep drags us both upstairs, ushering us past two doors and a hall into a white room with a slanted wall that opens up into a balcony. He was made to promise to not call the cops, local peacekeepers I'm told, for the time being.
+
 Brain throws his arm wide as she gets closer.
-In that large and empty chamber lit only by sunlight, I sit and listen to the kraken outside my mind. I sit and try to ignore my Master's remnant ceaseless repetition inside.
+
 Godsdamnit… Goodbye, Malida. Goodbye, Tom. Goodbye, Jessica, Cadence, Candice, Malory, Sari, Kitty, Danielle, everyone... Goodbye, Palamina... Hope you all don’t try to kill me next time we meet.
-I sit.
+
 ---
-And listen.
+
 ~~~
 
 I lean in and-
 
 Smeck!
 Smeck!
 
 Once on each cheek. The first time, John gives a little jump. I don’t think he was expecting that at all. The strangled gasp he gives when I suddenly wrap my arms around his neck and crush him against me implies the same.
 
 He’s absolutely frozen in place. If his shivering breathes weren’t brushing my shoulder, I’d have thought him literally dead on his feet. Perhaps his expectations were more conventional? That I would do something more monster-like in my excitement?
 
 “John.” Another jump as I whisper in his ear. “I will never do anything to endanger our friendship or your life. Please remember that.”
 
 ~~~
 
 ---
 
 Oh, Palamina. If only I was in control... Now let’s see that knife come down so I can start crying.
 
 Whaaaaaa-
 
 … Brain?
 
 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-
 
 …… I’m waiting.
 
 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-
 
 … … … You there?
 
 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-
 
 ... ... ... ... Huh.
 
 Bastard’s still in control, but there’s no response. A low thrumming noise is what he's been reduced to in his disbelief of ‘that lilim’ going ‘off-script.’ … Alright!
 
 This isn’t ideal, but a lot better than stabbing her in the back. I’m actually really surprised too that Palamina took such a chaste action. It's hard to let go of certain expectations of monsters in a world like this, and her excitement had caused them to crawl up like slugs in my mind. Her kisses really worried me for more than one reason.
 
 Suddenly, I can feel the knife drop out of my hand, not just be aware of, but feel. My body goes limp before I scramble to assert my control again, forcing Palamina to squeak in surprise and backpedal more than a little in my fall forward. With one big step forward and my arms locking hand-over-hand around her back, I steady myself. We look a little strange, both of us bowing and hugging at the same time.
 
 Slowly, we walk forward until we’re both upright, sheepishly looking each other in the eyes when we’re done.
 
 Well, no sense wasting any time. Palamina’s free to do as she pleases and brain is in a coma, TWO events worth celebrating.
 
 I give a broad smile and shift my hands down to her waist and-
 
 ---
 
 ~~~
 
 “Three cheers for you!
 
              AY!                 AY!                    AY!”
             OR                  OR                     OR
 “Hip, hip. HO        Hip, hip. HO           Hip, hip. HO
 
 “AhhhahAHAHA! (Don’t) Put me down, John! (Don’t) Put me down!”
 
 It’s like the sun has risen on his face as he suddenly spins my shrilly giggling self around in the air. My smaller wings flutter and bump his arms as my bigger pair flaps erratically in the excitement, forcing him to stand on the balls of his feet to keep holding me.
 
 On the last hurrah, he drags me down, hands still holding my waist. It's difficult to will my wings to stop flapping as I push aside the hairs that managed to get in front of my face, still giggling as a deep and throaty laugh starts rising from him.
 
 There’s something else going on that I’m not aware of I think. But really, spoiling this mood? Out of the question. I’ll ask later.
 
 John pulls me into as deep a hug as I gave him a minute ago and in a low, accentless voice mutters, “Thank you for being my friend.”
 
 ~~~
 
 …
 …
 
 ---
 
 Brain is noise now. He's become nothing more than a strange, quiet hum. Gone into a coma of sorts from disbelief. Found sanity in Wonderland. Vegetable. I don’t think I’m rid of him entirely, but he’s gone for a while at least. Bastard might have even learned something from this whole thing.
 
 Palamina is so much different in person than in her letters, though maybe that’s because of our recent success and the changes to her lifestyle it’s going to bring about. She’s excitable, attentive, and talks a lot about how she wants to adopt a pair of cats. I hadn't expected her to not be an overly serious political figure given the way she writes. It's a pleasant surprise.
 
 After I went back to the cave I rented from Kitty to get the big coat (and shock her and all her friends with Palamina's appearance), she locked her right hand in my left and refused to let go. Without the slightest hint of embarrassment, her explanation was that she really wanted to keep contact with someone after so long in isolation. I could only sputter as Kitty and all her forest friends snickered and whispered the obvious as we walked away. It's stuff like this that makes me wonder if we're the friends we say we are or if brain's theory on monsters following scripts has some weight to it.
 
 ... Fuck it.
 
 Paranoia can go jump off a cliff, and I'm free to indulge a friend as much as I'd like, right?
 
 ---
 
 ~~~
 
 It’s been half an hour now since we started the first of what I hope will be many, many leisurely strolls. All the way, I talked and John talked, back and forth, back and forth. Being able to do this without any sexual feelings (and his mysterious ailment seems to have cleared up completely) in the way, I couldn’t get enough of listening to him talk about his past, watching his face changing moods, or holding his not-quite-smooth-or-rough hand. I’d have settled for anyone to walk with like this, but because it’s him, my fruit farmer friend and confidant, it’s so much better.
 
 “Ech.” John shakes his head with his eyes shut too tightly for a moment.
 
 “John? Are you okay?”
 
 “It’s nothing, it’s- Oh, it’s the border.”
 
 “We’re past the border… Then- Then I have nothing to fear from my energy intake!”
 
 “For now. Palamina, we need to research actually suppressing your aura or at least making that ritual easier to do.”
 
 “That can wait. Your health is the new top priority, John. You seem well enough now, but I’m sending an apothecary or doctor to your home as soon as I can. Oh, your orchard! I’d nearly forgo-”
 
 “No rush, it’s still winter. Besides, I can set up in one of the abandoned villages farther out-”
 
 “Nonsense. Once the plateau is cleaned up and cleansed a few times for insurance, you can reclaim the soil there.”
 
 “After winter.”
 
 “Yes, after winter… … Do you need to go back?”
 
 “Not for a few hours yet. You want to do anything? The nearest village is fifteen minutes away.”
 
 “Then… Let’s get something to eat while I make a real public appearance.”
 
 “Lead the way, Palamina.”
 
 “With me, John.”
 
 ~~~
 
 -~-~-~
 
 And our fingers tighten.
 
 ~-~-~-
 
 Fin.
 
 
 
 Special thanks to Fidchell and somedude for consistency and grammar checks, and the rest of the IRC for helping in fixing various bits and pieces.