Pillsbury + 1 year:

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GlytchMeister
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by GlytchMeister »

FreeFlier wrote:o-kay . . . asking to be manipulated . . . Don't believe I've seen that one before!

--FreeFlier
It's all about setting the stage. If Sarge can run an op that resulted in a relationship like Al and Daisy, Glytch can trust Sarge to give Glytch the opportune moment he needs. That's all Glytch needs - the moment.

He's hardly being manipulated if he's asking for it, right? He's getting Sarge to try to manipulate him... And Sarge's modus operandi is to provide a romantically charged opportunity.

All Glytch needs is that perfect moment, and Sarge has displayed a knack for supplying those.
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Sgt. Howard »

GlytchMeister wrote:
FreeFlier wrote:o-kay . . . asking to be manipulated . . . Don't believe I've seen that one before!

--FreeFlier
It's all about setting the stage. If Sarge can run an op that resulted in a relationship like Al and Daisy, Glytch can trust Sarge to give Glytch the opportune moment he needs. That's all Glytch needs - the moment.

He's hardly being manipulated if he's asking for it, right? He's getting Sarge to try to manipulate him... And Sarge's modus operandi is to provide a romantically charged opportunity.

All Glytch needs is that perfect moment, and Sarge has displayed a knack for supplying those.

"Greg, are you sure about this?" Al asked for the third time.
"Absolutely- we've got everything we need here to make this work... don't you go worrying on me here. Brandi goes into the room via the south door, Glytch by the north-neither one is expecting the other."
"Well I see that- patently obvious- but what of this other ... paraphernalia? My Gods, you've got a sack of chicken feathers, a bucket of lard, four pounds of raw bacon, a rubber dog suit of some stripe, three pair of handcuffs... is that a 'cat-o-nines' I see? Do I even want to KNOW what you have in that fevered mind of yours?"
Looking around, Greg groused, "Hmm ... I forgot the toilet plunger.."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

And back in the version of the Universe that I prefer to play in... (bacon and a toilet plunger? I am staying off the West Coast...)

With the departure of their comrade, Al and Greg addressed themselves to the problem - and the plate of food that Glytch had providentially left behind.

Munching a wheat cracker and some Swiss, Al remarked "Quite the conundrum our madboy has. Fall in love with a gorgeous, brillaint woman or not. All down to fear, I surmise. That leap of faith that humans make - will this be good - will I be happy?" Turning to the small refrigerator in the corner, he pulled out a Moxie for himself. "Drink?"

"Dr. Pepper."

Drinks on the table, Greg swigged from his and took up the question. "One thing we don't understand is where his mind is. We really don't. Neither of us can even remember 25, never mind the emotions that went with it."

"Given your libido, I wouldn't have thought it much of a leap." Al snickered, and snagged more meat and cheese. Pondering his words, Greg grunted assent.

"The problem here is that our friend's hormones are insisting on trying to do the thinking, and the brain is recoiling from that. By the time he sorts this out, he'll blow it. Nothing against Glytch, but he could overanalyze finding a 20-dollar bill on the sidewalk - and let it blow away while he figured out how it got there."

"Not true. Not true at all. When in the crunch Glytch is as stalwart a battle companion as you could ask for and you know that as well as I do. In love, however, the choices are nowhere near as concrete - and there I will agree with you. Question is - what do we do? He's told us to back off."

Greg began to chuckle, then laughed. "Since the hell when do EITHER of us do what we're TOLD? SOMEBODY here has to save the damn day - and if y'all 're gonna go all meek and mild and 'do as yer told', then by damn Ah'm agonna have ta do it!"

"You do realize that you shifted accents in the middle of a sentence, right?"

"And this matters why?"

"Doesn't matter at all. Seems to me we've some mischief to be about." Al stood, reached to the table and snagged some more meat and cheese, and headed for the door. "Shall we?"

Imitating Al's accent, Greg bowed at the waist and swept his arm toward the door. "Do, let's!"
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

AN: This is another collaborative bit - mostly Sarge and Glytch, with me throwing in a liberal dose of Elmer's Dialogue Glue and my own twited little bits. Enjoy.


The two got as far as the door when Greg stopped short-

"Eh? What's wrong? asked Al.

"Simplicity! Absolute simplicity! We can 'do this' yet NOT 'do this'..."

"Oh? What have you in mind?"

Greg thought for a moment- "Al, you have stationery here, correct?"

"Of course I do- What devilment are you up to?"

"Heh," Greg went into a plausible Russian dialect, "Iss not necessary to SET ambush, iss only necessary to DIRECT ambush!"

"... you are truly frightening sometimes, you know that don't you?"

Keeping the dialect (and feigning offence), Greg responded, "Honly sometimes?" then dropping the dialect, "Do you have a small security envelope that will fit in a slightly larger security envelope?"

"Hmm... I would think so... let's see..."

A quick ransack of Al's desk produced the very items that Greg needed. Greg quickly opened his wallet and fished out a $20 bill, slipped it into the smaller envelope and started writing a quick note. Looking over his shoulder, Al started to chuckle.

"Yes... oh yes... Greg, that is fiendishly simple! Now why the ... oh!" Al stated as he saw the note slip into the smaller envelope and the outside noted "eyes only" before it was sealed shut. From there, the smaller slipped into the larger envelope-
This was addressed to "Senior Director Brandilyn Oduya".

"Now... who shall we have deliver this?" Greg asked.

"well... I think I can handle THAT part of the proposition," Al replied.

Out in the main hall, the dance music was cranking up again once Glytch got back to the control panel. Brandi kept glancing at him as he played the controls, occasionally catching him glancing back...

Ohhh... this is... um... this is exciting!
she thought to herself. Perfectly adolescent in play, Brandi was enjoying the covert interaction until Cindy clopped over and handed an envelope to her.

"For you," was all she said before she wandered off.

"Oh?" Brandi said as she opened the envelope- to discover ANOTHER envelope labelled "eyes only".

"REALLY?!? DAMNIT!" she exclaimed- Bud heard this and looked over at what Brandi was doing.

"Official business?" Bud asked, "What the hell?!? ... and 'eyes only'? OH! should I turn my head?"

Brandi appraised the situation- "I... I think so... damn... "

Bud gave Brandi privacy while Brandi ripped open the smaller envelope and read-
"Dear Brandi- there will be a disturbance right after this song comes to an end. Under cover thereof, use this $20 to request 'Dream' by the Everly Brothers and have the band announce 'Ladies choice'- I trust you know what to do from there...
with deep affection, your Fairy Godfathers."

With a gasp, Brandi scanned the room until she caught Greg and Al looking at her with the wicked grins of successful conspirators. Eyes aglow, she nodded energetically and waited for the song to end.

"Well?" Bud asked, "What's going on? Or can you talk about it?"

"Sit back and watch, girlfriend- THIS is going to be... interesting..."

Back at their table, Al and Greg had already versed their ladies as to what was about to commence... along with a few others at the same table. When they saw Brandi get the note and give her response, they settled back to await the perfect moment when the song that was in progress came to an end. As the last strains of the last chorus died away, Greg initiated with a bellow that filled the hall,

"THE HELL YEW SAY!!! DAMNATION, MR. "AH KNOWS EVER'THING", THASS' IT!!! AH'VE HAD AS MUCH AS AH KIN STAN'!!!"

"I DO APOLOGISE... WERE MY WORDS TOO BIG FOR YOU?!? I AM AFRAID I DON"T KNOW MORE PRIMITIVE VOCABULARY FOR YOUR FEEBLE MIND!!!"

"...you sef righteous son o' BELIAL!!! AH'LL HAVE YEW EATIN' THEM FANCY WORDS!!!"

Next to the scrapping sergeants stood their wives, unusually making no attempt to defuse the situation.

"Twenty on Howard," Annie deadpanned.

"FAUGH! I'll put FORTY on 'Goldeneye' at two-to-one," shot back Daisy.

The band, as well as the rest of the room was caught up in the altercation. Everybody had seen these two argue, but never had it come to blows... yet here they were, nose to nose, fists clenched, eyes bulging and teeth bared- and their wives betting on the outcome.

Xera was diverted from the conflict by a quiet voice and a small tug at her hand. She looked down to see Brandi at the edge of the stage motioning her to get within earshot of a whisper. Bending low, she heard;

"It's all an act- I have a 'special' request, and you might be losing your mixing-board man for a set or two- those two are providing 'cover' for the request,"

Xera glanced at Brandi, read the request and looked at the twenty-dollar bill folded with it, looked at Brandi again and started to giggle- then she chanced a glance at Glytch- he was still absorbed in what was about to happen at the table across the way. She nodded compliance, then handed Brandi back the twenty, folding it into her hand with a whisper of “Save it as a souvenir.”

Brandi’s smile was wide and her eyes a bit damp as she scampered back to her table, Greg caught her motion from the corner of his eye- and acted.

"Al- that there prime rib is gettin' cold on ya- yew LAHK it theyt way?"

"Oh Gods no! Right- food now, mutual annihilation later... can't have one's roast going cold now, can we?"

"No doubt- Ah gotta gets me back t' mah pork chops,"

The two men settled back into their chairs as their wives did, and the crowd, confused but realizing that there wasn’t going to be a battle, slowly shook off the mesmerizing influence of the scene.

Xera had been waiting for this. Tapping her display she set up the song, and then announced to the room “LADIES’ CHOICE! Ladies, select your partners!”

Glytch, caught in the middle of preparing a remix, looked up from his computer with a dumbfounded expression. "Wait, what song are you... Now wait just a skorm damned minute you, when did... Oh, yooouuu..."

Glytch swiveled his head in the direction of Sarge and Al. Seeing their Weasley-Twin grins, he immediately looked back just in time to see Brandi approaching, her dark brown eyes displaying a smoldering light as she gracefully raised her hand to him.

Glytch noted her perfectly manicured, intense red nails, and once again was overwhelmed by her heady scent - the rest of the world dropped away, as he focused entirely on her.

He smiled, took a deep breath (both to steady himself and to savor Brandi's aroma), and took Brandi's hand, gently raising it up as he bent over it and placed a soft kiss upon it. The meaning was clear, and Brandi grinned - her smile was on the verge of predatory, mixed with the self-satisfaction of the cat that got the canary. And with that, Glytch allowed himself to be led to the dance floor with a wide smile on his face.

The music was smooth, with only a moderate speed and energy. As the pair took the floor, Glytch swept his hoods back with his free hand (drawing a few gasps simply from the rarity of the action) before pulling Brandi into a close embrace with the hand she held him by, wrapping one arm low about her waist. Their bodies entwined and they felt an intense heat from the intimacy. Glytch grinned roguishly at Brandi, who bit her lip as they danced - neither really paid much attention to their surroundings, enthralled with each other as they were.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by FreeFlier »

:lol: :lol: :lol:

Well done!

--FreeFlier
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by jwhouk »

---

"C'mon."

I was shocked when Sarah yanked me up from my seat and dragged me off to the dance floor.

"Are you kidding? I - we don't know how to do a tango?!"

"Never you mind," she said, as we began to dance with the other couples.
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"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

AN: DInky of course is in on this one...

Flashburn was in Nirvana.

He was the only photographer at a party for the granddaughter of the Librarian and her husband, all in full feral, and he was given carte blanche to take what he thought best.

However, his joy was tempered by the conversation he and the Sergeant-Major had had before the festivities had begun.

“Flash, I need you to understand one thing. You are allowed to do what you wish tonight for photography based on the wishes of the guests. If it’s acceptable to them, it is acceptable to me. I am not at all concerned about your behavior – as this is one of the reasons your cousin Sterling is here.

However,” and here the Sergeant-Major leaned close and stared straight into his eyes “these photographs will never be distributed beyond people who are on the guest list here.

If One... I REPEAT, ONE of these photographs turns up in the Paranormal Press or the Paranormal Times and I can trace it back to you, there is going to be a locked-room murder mystery in Chicago that the police there will never figure out.

Am I understood?”

He was not, however, going to let that admonition lessen his joy at the assignment – or at the fat check that redheaded goddess Al was married to had written him for the evening.

Bobbing, weaving, effectively invisible except when he wanted to be otherwise, he was the unblinking eye at the party – who saw everything both with the eye of the artist and the view of a seasoned observer of human nature.

Seeing Director Oduya receive the note, and the interplay of emotions and the enthusiastic nod to the two old gents, he knew where he needed to be.

As the tattooed Valkyrie on the bandstand shouted “Ladies Choice!” he was at work. Stealthily, he followed the Director till she reached the bandstand and climbed onto it, he following with camera snapping furiously. Extending her hand to Glytch, they both stepped off the bandstand and into the crowd of dancers.

With the background of the other dancers the couple were perfect. Holding each other close, touching, the look on their faces was bliss, joy and more than a little exhilaration.

In seconds, though, his invisibility came to an end - but in the most pleasurable way possible. As he was framing a shot he was set upon by a Titian beauty in burgundy and gold.

Cinnamon, hair done to a nicety, was attired in a burgundy gown with gold tracery. Along with it she wore a Gypsy belt adorned with bells, a tinkling counterpoint to her energetic step.

"Ladies Choice - and I choose you! Come on Flash, put down the camera and come dance!"

While sorely tempted by the offer Flashburn tried to demur. "Luscious as you look I'd love to, but I'm working. Can't do it ,luv."

"Oh, yes you can. Think of it this way - it's Ladies Choice, and Al is watching. I figure this is a dead win on both counts - we dance and his blood pressure goes up. Make sure you dance CLOSE." Her saucy gaze swept over him appreciatively, and he realized this was the best of both worlds - a chance to do exactly what he wanted - dance with a gorgeous girl - and have plausible deniability from her overprotective father.

Setting his camera on a table he was whirled onto the dance floor by his partner, and snuggled into an embrace with an armful of very attractive redhead.

As they began to dance, Sterling thought-spoke into his mind.

Cuz, you DO realize the Sergeant-Major is going to have kittens at you dancing with his daughter, right? Remember what he told you about that locked-room murder – this might set it off.


Flash chuckled to himself and answered completely truthfully.

Cuz, it is NOT my fault. You heard the lady – ‘Ladies Choice’. Who am I to turn down such an invitation! Not my fault, I tell you!

An answering chuckle returned. Aye, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Keep your eye on him, and get ready to run for it!

As they danced and swirled around the floor Flash looked over Cinnamon's shoulder - specifically at the table where her mother and stepfather sat.

The reaction was slow in coming, with the first few glances showing Al paying attention to his plate. Suddenly, however, Cinnamon giggled (causing some interesting anatomical contact) and said "Al spotted us. Be prepared for a sunburn."

True enough, as they swung about each other in the dance he saw Al, trying to rise from his chair, with Daisy's hand on his shoulder restraining him. On the next swirl, however, he'd returned to his plate, but the glare directed in their direction was enough to char paint off a battle-steel bulkhead.

Cindy giggled again, and said "The poor man's going to have a heart attack if he keeps this up. Momma really needs to get him to relax."

As the song went on, Flash snuggled into his partner, and she into him. She's really nice....though I'm not sure Al would cope well with a mage in the mix. Flashburn thought. However, that was not a thought for the moment, but for later.

As the dance ended, Cinnamon gave him a big hug and said "You'd better get back to your camera - I think Al's going to explode otherwise."

Flash, ever the gentleman despite being a flirt, bowed over her hand and gave a small peck to the back. "Should there be another Ladies' Choice dance, please feel free to call on me." With that, camera back in hand, he disappeared into the crowd, figuring that working and moving might be safer than being a stationary target.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by lake_wrangler »

Just Old Al wrote:With that, camera back in hand, he disappeared into the crowd, figuring that working and moving might be safer than being a stationary target.
Yeah, that's what I heard, too...
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by jwhouk »

---

"Where in the heck did you learn how to do the tango?" I asked Sarah, a bit breathless. "Not that I mind, of course..."

"Remember last weekend when you had to work a double? Well, instead of going over to the store, I... kinda used the Library portal to pay a visit to Phix." She smiled sweetly at me. "Between her and that Murphy guy, I got the basics down."

I paused for a moment.

"Wait a minute - Murphy? Isn't he a minotaur?"

Sarah only nodded. "And a great dance instructor, too. I hear Bud is trying to get her boss Joanne to hire him for ballroom dancing lessons."

I was more bewildered than Glytch was after being dragged out onto the dance floor by Brandi.
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"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by GlytchMeister »

As Dream faded away, Glytch stood with Brandi, still swaying to the beat for a spell, just looking into her eyes. After the last strains of music fell silent, Glytch snapped out of his reverie. With a mischevious and dangerous grin, he placed a finger to his ear and spoke. "Alright, you lot, you've had your fun. My turn." With a deft movement, Glytch flipped his phone out of his pocket and made a few swipes and presses. Immediately, the lights shifted to the warmer end of the spectrum, and the admittedly bare, yet solid and seductive beat of Assassin's Tango pumped through the sound system. With another press to his headset, Glytch looked to Xera and the rest of the band. "Challenge me."

Xera listened to the beat for a moment while Bob and Geoff began to play with the song, adding complexity while still keeping true to the original feel of the music. Then, Rachel came forward and added her own take on the music - improvising and changing the song to fit the mood.

Glytch went to work, stepping lively as he gave Brandi a firm, sure lead through the dance, taking movements from traditional Tango steps as well as improvisations, drawing from forms in gymnastics and parkour. His footwork was precise and careful, yet quick and exciting... And Brandi kept up beautifully, pressing close, rubbing, brushing... Their hands wandered over each other's bodies, and it was clear what they both wanted... And just how bad they wanted it.

Xera watched, even blushing slightly at the sight of the two coming just about as close to what was allowed in the present company as they possibly could, and finally found a groove she could play with. She raised the Guarneri; the moment the bow touched the strings, the heat in the room ignited fully. Euryale was seen fanning herself at the edge of the dance floor. Even Stheno, who had been enjoying a particularly dark beer, was leaning forward in her seat. Lily was bopping and writhing and thoroughly enjoying herself, drawing a smile from Kath. Suzi had dragged Billens to the dance floor, who looked... Conflicted. Bud had stood up with Kevin (who had just finished a bottle of Gatorade), Jin was with Alan (who was only slightly more of a match for his partner), Monica with Georgette, Atsali with Nadette (Cutie Tail had made an appearance as well, along with Nadette's fluffy ears), Shelly was twirling and lifting Justin effortlessly, Phix and Neil danced with the peculiar combination of the expertise of ages and the energy of youth, Kath danced with Buck with the same talent she had discovered when they first met, Tina danced a slightly disconcerting, unearthly dance with Stan, Rowdy and Dawn danced feverishly while Cinny, feeling ornery, cheered on her brother. Annie and Sarge practically charged at the dance floor, then Daisy convinced Al to join her (after yet another yearning glance at his plate). Finally, Joe, looking like a deer in headlights, was bodily manhandled into dancing by Sarah.

The song hit its crescendo, and Rachel and Xera glanced at each other before simultaneously shifting both of their patterns subtly. Instantly, their parts jived and merged together as Bob and Geoff ratcheted up the intensity of the beat. As the song reached its peak, so too did the dancers. Some were formally trained, others were not and were simply making it up as they went. But all moved with a similar sensuous, passionate, heated desire for one another that spoke of one thing and one thing only.

Glytch shifted from stance to stance as Brandi twirled about him, their warm bodies never staying far from one another, her legs occasionally rising up as his hands slid down, caressing her curves. Their movements became faster and bolder until suddenly, the song ended. With a flourish, Glytch leaned forward, holding Brandi securely in his arms as she fell back into them, with her own arms wrapped around him.

They were close - unbelievably close. They could feel each other's breath, coming hot and quick. Her chest heaved just as much as Glytch's, though for her it was more from the desire and the emotion than the exertion.
Glytch didn't make any further movement - he didn't want to be too forward... If we are to kiss, it is going to be a mutual decis-

Brandi grabbed Glytch by the tie and pulled firmly, planting her lips to his. Electric fire coursed through Glytch's veins as he returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. They kept at it for several seconds, before finally the hoots and hollers and catcalls of the surrounding partiers brought them both back to reality.

"Well, then. Seems like we'll have to... pick this up at a later time..." Glytch said between breaths.
"Mmm... definitely..."
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by FreeFlier »

:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
Wolf-who-watches wrote:One approves. )()()()()()()()()()()()( )()()()()()()()()()()()( )()()()()()()()()()()()( )()()()()()()()()()()()( )()()()()()()()()()()()(
Yes.

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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

At the end of the tango, the two older couples staggered back to their table. Faces flushed, eyes sparking, it had been a fantastic dance between the orchestration and the heightened energy.

As they refreshed themselves (Al finally giving up on trying to get a decent meal), Al remarked to Greg “It seems we have a winner, unless I miss my guess. The lad and lass have broken the ice, and it’s thawing VERY rapidly in that heat.” He snickered evilly, as did Daisy.

Greg addressed himself to his drink, and then nodded. “Damn straight. From here on in, they’re on their own for wherever it ends up. I wish them luck, though.” With that Greg took his bride’s hand, raised it to his lips, and bestowed a peck on it.

“Here’s to the lucky couple.” The old soldiers clinked gasses and smiled.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

Poster's note: This is a group effort - Dinky, Warrl, and I worked this one through. Many thanks to Warrl for his letting me involve Dawn.

With her part in trying to keep Flash alive against Al's ire done, Sterling decided to wander the rooms of Old Alexander.

The house utterly fascinated her - unlike the other partygoers she hadn't been cooped up here for the months of the siege, and was seeing the old neoclassical place with the eyes of an artist. More than once she drew out her sketchbook and set the scene(without the people of course) to paper, promising herself to paint it in detail. She did, however, sketch Glytch playing that odd yet hauntingly intriguing instrument, and noted to ask about it in detail...so she could appropriately tell its tale, if only for hers and his eyes alone. She also had Flash take several different angles of it, promising appropriate payment for the extra film he used.

So too, she saw the enthusiastic partygoers - humans, centaurs, Sphinx, taurines, avian and not and marveled. Wandering over to the bar she exchanged her depleted Scotch for another and struck up a conversation with Rowdy and his girlfriend.

Both in feral with rubber-soled shoes on to keep from scarring the pristine floors, they stood looking out at the crowd much as Sterling had done not long before. Rowdy’s gaze was one of familiarity, watching old friends make merry. His girlfriend's however was a look of bemusement with a serious undercurrent of concern and rigid self-control.

"So, Sterling, enjoying the show? What were the two old guys yelling about THIS time?" Rowdy chuckled - to him this was an event worn smooth from repeated exposure.

"Not sure - but considering how fast that storm blew in and out again I suspect it was all manufactured skullduggery - something those two have the market cornered on. Considering the 'Ladies Choice' dance got announced right after that it was likely Greg match-making again. He is such a wee babhdóir."

"Oh - so that explains that steamy little interlude on the dance floor with Glytch and Brandi! I didn't know two humans could get that centaur-like sober on a dance floor - it was quite a sight."

Sterling chuckled. "Aye, that it was. Those two will need to find a quiet corner soon from the look of things - more's the power to them both. So, are you going to introduce me to your lady friend here?"

Rowdy smacked himself on the forehead. "Sorry, missed you when we went around for introductions. This is Pauline Hazelton - she and I have been seeing each other for a while. She's in medical school at UM, and out here visiting on the Winter break."

Pauline reached down and held her hand out. "Call me Dawn - if you are a friend of Rowdy's then you are of me as well."

Sterling reached up and shook the offered hand. "Sterling Damhnait - friend of Al and Daisy's. Quite the scene here, is it not?"

"Indeed. I knew Rowdy's family had some interesting friends, but it never occurred to me that it encompassed quite the number of high-level paranormals that it does."

Sterling sipped at her drink, and nodded.

"Amazing,isn't it? All these paranormal species, and even that's only the tip of the para iceberg. I only became aware of this a few days ago."

Dawn was taken aback. “But you are a friend of the family – how did that..?”

“Long story, luv, but a good one. Suffice it to say that I had no knowledge of this or the rest of my family till I realised I wanted it – then it came to me when I started wondering about my real father.

Turns out that two people I thought were friends turned out to be my half-sisters – we all had the same father. You might have seen them – they are Safyr and Emerauld – I knew them as Chris and Maggie-“

Dawn hissed “The elves – you are their half-sister?” Her posture, wary and controlled, went to stiff and combative, almost rearing back.

Sterling, confused but hardly oblivious, asked “What is the matter? Dawn, talk to me. Please.”

Dawn, rigidly controlling herself, said “I dislike drow… intensely. They killed a mentor of mine and some dear friends, long ago, one of them in front of me - but I evened that score. I have found out that your… sisters… are not like the ones I we fought, but that realization… does not change the reflex I fear, and unlearning such… lessons… is not a quick task.”

Sterling looked up at the centaur, her calm grey eyes apprising the situation.

“If that is the case, luv, then you will have to hate me as well – because our father was the same Drow. NONE of us, however, is just a disciple of hate, though Safyr looks the most like one, and while she was raised in it, she of her own accord decided it was not her Path. That led to her protecting Emerauld, and later on...me.

Let me tell you what those despised elves did for me.

I manifested another Gift long after my powers were stable - I am a mage, raised as one as soon as the Gift first emerged. When that happened I was still young, and I was dangerous because my heritage was half Drow, and all the magic and oddities that comes with, and the other half human mage, who have very different ways of using magic.

I was flat-out dangerous and unstable. Rather than remove my powers, they removed my knowledge of the paranormal so I could finish growing up in a stable manner and not endanger anyone else or myself.

To help, those hateful elves exiled themselves here in one place; something very dangerous for half elves, as they are constantly hunted and they masqueraded as friends of my mother’s – Chris and Maggie. They were there when I needed them, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. They even helped my parents find a martial arts master to help me further my discipline. Because of my heritage, I will never be given a fair chance--nor will they. They are judged before one even knows them. It's even worse for half elves if they clearly look like half elves. Killed on sight for the misfortune of something they had no choice over.

Because of them, my mum and my da – not the elf, but a sensei my mum married – I grew up to be what I am: tall, proud, strong and most of all sane.

When I finally wondered about my biological father the enchantment fell away – and all of this glory came to me. My sisters Eme and Safyr were there again, and helped me understand all of this.

So, I am enjoying all of this immensely – the magic, the beings, the amazement of it all, and the sheer joy of finding what I lost for so long. This is down to a lot of people, my mum, my da, and my sisters along with my uncle and cousins.

Do dearie, be very careful where you sling that tar brush. There are those who do not deserve to be painted with it.”

Dawn stood, face neutral, looking into the distance. Sterling could feel the war of emotions within her, the deep hatred of Drow, the confusion of meeting those who looked like but weren’t Drow, and this mage who spoke matter-of-factly of people she hated.

Rowdy stood alongside, uncertainty in his posture. He knew the elves, knew of their valour at the battle, yet didn’t know the words to say here.

Sterling reached up and took her hand. “Dawn, I do not expect you to change your mind in a day, week, month, or even in a year. Just please consider that not all are as the ones you knew and let the evil you saw stay with those who created it.

There's a saying Uncle Fergus is fond of using when my mouth would run away with my sense:

Iadsan a 'breithneachadh an toiseach mus iad a' tuigsinn mar phàirt de an trioblaid.

It means:

'Those who judge first before they understand become part of the problem.'

I know you are far better than that dearheart.”

Looking down, Dawn looked into the clear, grey eyes of the silver-haired mage. “I – I will try. Thank you for sharing this with me. I will take your advice.” With that, she and Rowdy turned to the bar to refresh their drinks, and Sterling walked away, looking for her sisters, suddenly in need of Family.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

AN: This is another group effort, Dinky, Glytch, myself and kibitzing from the usual cast of characters.

"Iarrann tú uirthi!" (You ask her!)

"Níl, a iarraidh TÚ a!"
(NO, YOU ask her!)

Safyr looked annoyed, and Emerauld nettled. Both were curious, but neither wanted to ask.

Safyr grinned, a bit of a feral smile in the number of teeth she showed. "Dhá dtagann as gach triúr?" (Two falls out of three?)

Exasperated, Emerauld looked stern. "NACH Tá sé chineál sin de pháirtí, deirfiúr daor! Ó, an-maith, beidh mé ag dul a iarraidh." (It is NOT that kind of a party, dear sister! Oh, VERY well, I will go ask.)

The subject of their curiousity was the musician Xera. Both recognized the significance of her artwork, but wondered to themselves if she who wore them knew their significance. Too often, humans found the trappings of the Lord and Lady fascinating, but knew little to nothing of their significance.

Part of their reticence was reluctance to deal with stupidity (Oh, they're just pretty) and part was politeness to their host. Getting thrown out for pestering someone was not high on the elves' list of things to do - and they had no doubt Mistress Daisy would have no qualms about doing so if she felt the need.

Mistress Daisy - there was the answer.

"Deirfiúr, a bhfuil sé dom gur gá dúinn a thabhairt isteach - agus tá a fhios agam ach an Centaur é a dhéanamh." (Sister, it occurs to me that we need an introduction - and I know just the centaur to do it.)

"Sé riamh a tharla dom. Smaoineamh maith." ("It never occurred to me. Good idea.")

"Más rud é nach bhfuil sé ar ionsaí díreach le casúr cogadh, Saf, ní bheadh sé tarlú a thabhairt duit. Cad nach bhfuil tú i subtlety dhéanann tú suas i marfacht." (If it is not a direct attack with a war hammer, Saf, it would not occur to you. What you lack in subtlety you make up for in lethality.) Emerauld snickered evilly and grinned. Safyr attempted to roast her sister with a glare, but found her best efforts airily tossed off.

"Lá amháin, deirfiúr de mo chuid, gheobhaidh tú amach conas subtle is féidir liom a bheith - le do dochair." ("One day, sister of mine, you will find out how subtle I can be - to your detriment.")

Emerauld tossed away the statement with a wave of her hand. "Mise ag feitheamh do bhreithniú. Níl mé gan cunning féin, Saf." ("I await your consideration. I am not without cunning myself, Saf.") She grinned again and they wandered over to where Daisy circulated through the crowd.

"Mistress Daisy, Saf and I require a boon." As always, Emerauld's Common was high formal - her preference for the purity of it was well known.

"Eme, no need for formality - we are among family here. What can I do for you?"

"The musician Xera wears on her skin the symbols of the Lord and Lady - this as you can imagine has attracted our attention. We would like to speak with her, but Safyr is too timid to just walk up and converse-"

Safyr smacked Emerauld on the arm, none too gently. Stifling a chuckle, Emerauld continued. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, we would appreciate an introduction if you would grant us a favour."

"Certainly. Let me arrange it."

Daisy pulled her phone from her pocket, and messaged Glytch.

Got a pair of elves here that want to meet Xera - they seem fascinated by her artwork. Can I borrow your violinist for a little while?

At the mixing board, Glytch read the text and chuckled quietly. With no wasted motion he answered.

When those two get curious I get nervous. Not a problem, though - she'll free up at the end of this song.

Daisy read the reply, and said "She'll be free in a moment. I take it you would like me to formally introduce you?"

"Yes, please."

At the bandstand, Xera's display popped a message from Glytch. Got two elves in the audience that want to meet you and your art. They're a little odd but great people. Do you mind - they're over with Mrs. Alexander-Richer.

Waiting for the bridge in the song, she then typed rapidly back Not at all.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Just Old Al
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

AN: This is another group effort - and inspired a LOT of discussion around the wonderful artwork Glytch designed - and getting it into words for you all to see.

Al and she had talked on the way back from Master Prroul's, and they'd discussed her artwork.

"I have to warn you, meduck, that there are others here who follow our Path. They're sweet but a bit unearthly, and will want to talk to you about the tapestry you wear."

Xera thought to herself Oh, this is going to get interesting. I wonder what they'll think of it - and me? She looked down at herself, and thought of her tapestry – designed with great thought and much meditation and executed in fine detail by her friend the tattoo artist.

With the Tree of Life on her front, green canopy spreading above her breasts, trunk nestled between and roots below and trailing down her leg she founded the tapestry. It seemed most suitable, as it symbolized her own feeling of Life Above All. She joined it with the Triquetra – a symbol of honesty and clarity with Odin’s Knot at the center for clarity of mind and freedom of thought.

The scenes of Life to the left and right were accompaniment to the Tree of Life, and suited it well. To her right was Day, with its representation of a forest scene with the animals of the day, open flowers, and bright coloring.

To the left, Night reigned. The scene was the same as the right, but rendered in the dusky, muted tones of a moonlit forest. The day flowers were closed, and night-blooming flowers raised their heads. Animals of the night populated the scene, replacing their cousins on the right.

At the back, a scorpion, with its tail surrounding a pentacle. With the scorpion in Egyptian and Tibetan mythologies being a symbol of warding and protection, having it at her back was a comfort.

Her gorget – that caused problems whenever she talked to Wiccans. Most had comments, some not nice. The cartouche repeated four times was one that to her meant the Universe – it was a combination of the symbols for Fire, Water Earth and Air – and combined as a cartouche was repeated four times, connected by the colors of the symbol – green, blue, red and silver.

She snickered to herself, thinking about the Celtic knotwork patterns around her breasts. That was just for fun – and I love the way it works with everything else.

Steeling herself for the inevitable arguments, she joined the trio.

As she reached them, Mrs. Alexander-Richer was ready, taking her hand.

"Xera, this is Emerauld, and her sister Safyr. They're good friends of ours, and from what I know both follow the Path you and Al share. After seeing your gorgeous artwork they wanted to meet you.

Eme, Safyr, this is Xera. She is a friend of Glytch's and works with him, and is also a wonderful violinist. If you don't mind, I 'm going to leave you three to talk and see to my guests - I do apologize."

"Thank you, Mistress Daisy. I assure you we will not keep this young lady from her work for long, but will return her to Glytch in short order. Thank you for introducing us." Emerauld, ever-formal thanked Daisy gravely as she departed.

Xera watched the dam of the house depart with some trepidation. Despite Glytch and Mrs. Alexander-Richer's reassurances, she found herself disconcerted by the frank, appraising stares of the two elves.

Despite being sisters, they couldn't have looked less alike. Emerauld was fair, golden-skinned and dark haired, and with eyes as green as the grass of Summer. Her sister Safyr was dark blue, with an intense stare and dark-blue, nearly black eyes.

"Ladies, I'm Xera. I know you have some questions for me - what can I answer for you?" Privately, Xera was expecting a grilling on her symbols - none of them was exact but were her own interpretations - and she'd had lots of criticism on that.

Emerauld spoke up. "My sister and I noticed the beauty of your art when you came in - and since then we have had questions. Are you a follower of the Lord and Lady, or is this art? We do not criticize, as it is beautiful in either case, but we are curious."

Unbidden, a line came to Xera's mind - and she spoke it.

"Beannaichte gu robh dhuibh, agus a h-uile taigh ann an seo." (Blessed be to you and all in this house.)

All three looked startled - Xera for uttering words she knew the meaning of but did not know HOW she understood, and the elves for having received a perfect Wiccan benediction - in Drow.

"Xera, you did not tell us that you speak Drow." Emerauld, confused but recovering, said. Safyr just kept silent, trying to figure out this anomaly of a human who spoke Drow with a pure accent.

Xera, as confused as the elves, said "I couldn't tell you what I didn't know myself. I don't speak Drow - or any Elvish languages. That came straight from...where I don't know."

Even more startled, Safyr and Emerauld stared at each other.

"Saf, Usstan talinth nindol tehane an'yuil ilta Leanas. L'Senger lu'Jallil ves tlu'kyo'feir fhiosraichte udossa, xuat dos talinth?"
(Saf, I think this precisely answers her Following. The Lord and Lady very clearly informed us, don't you think?)

" Siyo, d'anthe Dalninil, udos inbal tlus al deiveus. Ol kluthak nindel jous'at guu'lac ulu nindyn vel'uss xun naut rytho'le ol zhah gu bochd ssiggrin d'. Udos zhal'la ajak nindol wun l'ulin." (Yes, dear Sister, we have been well instructed. It seems that showing doubt to those who do not deserve it is poorly thought of. We should remember this in the future.) This last was uttered with a bit of an impish tilt to the corners of her lips, though both were well aware of the warning they'd just received.

Xera was looking more and more confused. Emerauld turned back to her and said, "It seems that Those we follow answered our question through you. The Blessing you uttered was given in perfect Drow, and this has well put my sister and I in our places for having doubts in you and in them.

Come, dear Sister of ours, let us sit and talk for a while. We would know of the beauty of your Art, and the person behind it. Would you join us?"

Xera tapped her ear. "Glytch, gonna be a bit before I get back. Someting...just happened here, and I really want to spend some time talking to these two. Can you spare me?"

Glytch's voice sounded in her earpiece. "We'll miss you, but we can handle it. I am intrigued, though - you'll need to tell me all about it later."

To the elves Xera said, "Certainly. I'd love to sit and talk." With that settled, she allowed herself to be led to an empty table, and there the three picked up their conversation.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Just Old Al »

AN: This one was mostly mine, but I had help. The lead-in from Sarge, the lead-out from Joe. And with this we close this chapter of the saga... -Al


"Howard my dear, I feel as though I have had enough fun for one night," Annie said to Greg.

Greg was momentarily surprised... until he noticed the wicked grin and the sparkle in her eyes.

"Hmmm... yes, my dear... and we have an early morning ahead of us tomorrow, don't we?"

"But" Daisy chimed in, "Aren't you two time zones ahead of us? How early do you need to get up?"

"Oh Dark hundred," Greg responded, "gotta run some customer weapons to Wenatchee for a funeral." Greg lied on the spot.

"Military funeral? What are they using?" Al asked.

"Garands- they'd been using 'grenade rounds' instead of issue blanks. I got the right ammo and now they need them by tomorrow at 08:00 for an LTC that didn't respond well to chemotherapy. Besides, I think we two did enough damage and skullduggery for one evening, eh Sergeant Major?"

"I daresay- sorry to hear about the Commissioned one- but we're all marching to death from the day we are born..."

"And some just get to the head of the line before others." Greg finished, "Well, Al this has been wonderful, but now sometime in the near future you ought to drag THIS pretty Lady out my way and see what Eastern Washington is like."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Most certainly- 'yer welcome to share with us such as we got- the leaks in the roof and the soup in the pot."

Daisy and Al booth laughed at that. Al recovered and asked, "Where did THAT bit of doggerel come from?"

"Old Appalachian poem- I used to know the whole of it, but it's been a while. Not a whole lot of excitement out our way, and we like it like that,"

"Hell, Howard here is considered the 'bad influence' of the neighborhood," Annie added, "between a variety of his shenanigans with guns and explosives."

"Now Annie, I never caused any damage at that address," Greg protested.

"You'll notice how he qualified that?" Annie retorted to Al and Daisy, "but he won't mention how HALF his high school science building blew to smithereens and he was banned from chemistry..."

"They never proved I did it,"

"They pretty well guessed it- c'mon, Babe, let's go home- my feet are hurting and need attention..."

Both Greg and Annie made their goodbyes and wandered out to the gateway that took them to the library.

With their departure, Al and Daisy again separated started to walk the crowd again. The merrymakers were still going strong despite the late hour, but the serving staff was starting to flag a bit.

As he walked about, glass of ginger ale in hand, Al was accosted by an exuberant young Sphinx and her officer husband. Al allowed himself to be dragged off toward his dam, and then both were propelled to the hall, which was relatively quiet.

“So, what can we do for you?” Daisy asked amusedly. “If you want to stay here, there are plenty of bedrooms…and they’re nice and private.” She snickered evilly, and Shelley had the grace to blush a bit.

“No, we’re good. VERY good. We wanted to thank you both for” she waved her hands at the scene “all of this. We never expected this, and it’s been a night to remember.”
Justin spoke up. “After what happened a year ago, we figured no one would want to have a thing to do with this – too many things happened then that were nightmares. This is just…well it’s the wedding I wanted to give Shelley.

Thank you.”

With that, Justin stepped forward and offered his hand to Al. Al took the proffered hand and pulled the younger man into a deep hug. Releasing him, the old gentleman said “It’s been our pleasure. To be honest, in the past year you’ve both become like our children as well – and anything we can do is not enough.”

Daisy took Shelley’s hands, and said “What the old fool says goes double for me. We were here then, we’re here now and hopefully we will be for a good long time yet.” Daisy pulled the young Sphinx into a tight hug, and then released her.

“Now, why don’t the two of you go celebrate your anniversary…properly?” She snickered again, and Shelley and Justin laughed. Shelley slid her arm through Justin’s smiled broadly and said “That sounds like a WONDERFUL idea. If you two will excuse us, I do believe we’ll do just that.” With that, they headed for the entrance and their coats, and Daisy turned to Al.

“I do believe, old man, that we’ve managed a success with this party. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I do believe we have, old oater. Shall we return?”

“Let's get with it, then! We still have guests to tend to.”

The evening continued, but in ones and twos, the guests began to trickle away and Al and Daisy were kept busy distributing hugs, kisses and overcoats to their friends.

Monica and Jet, always looking so mismatched yet so right, teleported out with promises to be back soon for dinner. Glytch and the band, their task done, VORPed back out, leaving the magical sounds of the evening behind as a lasting memory along with a promise from Xera to return sometime soon with her violin.

The Houks, who they never seemed to see as much of as they wanted to, left after a brief chat.

Joe said, “Al, Daisy – thank you for the invitation. It was great to see everyone again, and” looking significantly at his wife “someone has talents she’s been hiding from me.” Sarah blushed, and chuckled quietly.

Hugs exchanged, they headed out, again with the demand that they come and spend more time than a few hours.

The elves, never fond of the word goodbye, had faded out sometime after their conversation with Xera. Al had found a small scroll at his place at the table and unrolled it, to see the fine handwriting of Emerauld.

To Al and Mistress Daisy:

Thank you for inviting us to the evening in your home. We know that you will say that we are always welcome and that this is our home as well, and know this we do, but it is always special to spend time with you, your family and the family of association that have gathered around you.

Blessings, Eme and Saf.


Eventually, the only noise in the rooms was that from the Gryphon students tidying up and gathering the partyware for return to the rental company.

Al sighed, stretched, and contemplated the room. The tidy-up was well in hand and could be left to the capable hands of Rosalita, Edward and their staff.

“Shall we do the drunk sweep, dear? Seems like we’ve been abandoned – so let’s make sure we have been.” With that, he crooked his arm and Daisy took it.

Together, they walked the passageways of Old Alexander, turning on lights and checking rooms, then moving on. Together, they cleared the first floor, then the second, neither straying far from the other.

While they walked, they reminisced. Here was Phix and Neil’s room, over here the one that Kevin shared with Bud (and thought no one knew), the other there for Jet and Monica. There was Neil’s headquarters, the other the room where Glytch had performed his white-hat wizardry. With this came the stories – the incidents, the dinners, the do-you-remember-when stories. This night of all others the memories were close to the surface, and came with little bidding.

Along with the humorous events and the day in the life stories came the others – the tragedies and the triumphs. The battle, the proposal when it looked like neither would survive, and the shattering moment when both were wounded. They spoke then, quietly, of Emerauld and her efforts on their behalf – something neither would ever forget nor feel like they had ever repaid. They owed her much – and knew it.

Then, their thoughts turned to the aftermath. The cost of their triumph had been high – too high, really, given the toll taken on the people who had occupied the rooms they walked through. They sobered for a few moments, Al lost in the thoughts of the dead, Daisy in the psychological cost to her and her children.

Finally, the tower was reached and they walked the rooms in it, turning lights on and then back off as they went. As they did, Al reminisced, Daisy laughing at the anecdotes.

“Here’s Alan and Jin’s room. We were here – briefly – one morning, if I recall correctly.”

“Indeed we were – until the floor let go! We ended up in the coal cellar, and then your damn gun case tried to kill us both.”

They both chuckled, remembering the now-gone coal cellar, the grime, and the robes passed in to them by Edward.

Ascending to the second floor, they kept checking rooms.

“Oh, yes – the bath. Do you remember when I had to rouse Tina and Stan when he got hit by the Yuan Ti poison? Damndest scramble – not sure why they bothered, but modesty is what it is, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re just disappointed because you didn’t get to see your barista naked. I know you too well, two-legs.”

“Oh? Stan is not an unhandsome young rake. I assume you would have averted your eyes, then?”

“Oh, of course not! However, I’m a centaur – we enjoy our passions while you humans are ashamed for them. This is a discussion for another day, though. I want to finish this up and get to bed – it’s really late.”

“True enough dear.”

Walking the rooms on the second floor they cleared and checked each one – till they reached one door different from the rest. This one had a brass cloisonné Union Jack screwed to it, the recesses filled with the traditional red, blue and white of the proud ensign.

Al chuckled. A few of the doors in the house wore these plaques now – Neil’s office wore a Roman battle standard, Greg and Anne’s room wore a small duplicate of his CSA belt buckle and so on. It was a small acknowledgement of the people who had spent so much time here and left the undeniable stamp of memory on the home.

They entered. So much was the same – the floor covering and paint colours had been carefully matched to the original. The furniture in the main was the same – the bureau, desk and chair had all been salvaged and stored. The bed was new, but the linens and coverlet of the same pattern.

The only jarring difference was in a frame on the wall. Al’s tuxedo jacket, tie and shirt – begrimed, blood-stained and battle-soiled as they had been when he took them off – had been neatly arranged as though being worn and preserved.

Al grimaced, the memory of how it got blood-stained too clear in his mind. “I wish you hadn’t had that done, dear. It’s a sad reminder.”

She approached him, and slipped her arms around his chest, cradling him from behind. “Sad it may be, but it’s honorable. It’s also a suitable place for it, here in your room, in the house where you, Greg and the General planned and coordinated the assault.”

“It’s still sad – I hate it. So much blood, so much loss…”

“True, love. However, look what came out of it. Our friends hale, hearty and free as you saw them tonight. You and I, my children, your business and the friends you employ, the Sergeant…I could go on.”

He turned away from the sad relic, facing her again. “I remember, and for them I am eternally grateful to your God, my Gods and any others that wander by that it came out as it did. However, right now there is another event I want to think about….and being in this room is perfect for it.”

Her lips arched upward in an almost catlike smile. ”And what might that event be?”

“Well, once upon a time there was a magic centaur, who had an amulet…and she and her lover were none too careful with the weak chain that held the amulet…”

There was a THUMP as two bodies hit the bed, and smaller thumps of shoes toed off and hitting the floor.

*giggle* “Floor stress test?”

“You wicked, wicked woman…This time, be careful with the chain…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Before retiring for the night, Edward noticed that one small brown paper bag had been left on the table in the kitchen. Curious, he picked it up and pulled out a package inside.

Looking at its description, he chuckled to himself before noticing that there was a note inside the bag as well.

"For the lucky couple. Happy One Year Anniversary - and Many More. Pax et Amo, Phix and Neil"

Edward lifted the small ornament up to the light, the glint of the "Santaur" script underneath the garish gilding of the figure casting a glow over the kitchen.

With a smile, he slid note and ornament back into the bag, placing it back on the table. He walked over to the hallway leading to his quarters, pausing for a moment before turning off the light at the switch.

"And to all, a good night."
From Richer Engineering - your home of all things arcane.
From Richer Engineering - your home of all things arcane.
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--- FIN ---
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Dave
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Dave »

And that... was one hell of a fine party!
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by Sgt. Howard »

Dave wrote:And that... was one hell of a fine party!
Oh man... you HAD to be there to fully appreciate it! Al never did finish his roast, BTW... but I DID get to my pork chops! With mashed spuds that had slivers of caramelized onions and turnip greens and applesauce! MAN they throw a proper spread at the Alexander-Richer estate! But jes wait 'till I haul Al and Daisy out to MY place an' they get REAL Appalachian cooking! T' say nothing of 'trigger time' on several ''exotics' that I own! A grand time to be had by all... assumin' nuthin' goes wrong...
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
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chicgeek
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by chicgeek »

That I'd like to read, Sarge!
Cornbread, chess pie, cobbler....
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:

Post by lake_wrangler »

Sgt. Howard wrote:assumin' nuthin' goes wrong...
Hush, you fool! That's almost as bad as "What's the worst that can happen?", "Is that all you got?", "At least, the worst is over/at least, it can't get any worse...", and so on...
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