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lake_wrangler wrote:

DinkyInky wrote:Placeholder for part three of tailorpalooza. Better safe than sorry, don't want them out of order.

When you guys put up a placeholder, do you actually go back and fill it in the saved spot? Because I have not noticed any post saying "Hey look: my placeholder has been filled up with text!" (with a link pointing back to where the placeholder was.)

I just don't want to miss out on anything...

I filled part two rather quick.

lake_wrangler wrote:

DinkyInky wrote:Placeholder for part three of tailorpalooza. Better safe than sorry, don't want them out of order.

When you guys put up a placeholder, do you actually go back and fill it in the saved spot? Because I have not noticed any post saying "Hey look: my placeholder has been filled up with text!" (with a link pointing back to where the placeholder was.)

I just don't want to miss out on anything...

Wait until we get the whole thing transcribed, and keep up where you can.

EDIT: We're just about up to the start of Chapter 30 and over 367 pages in...

"Do we HAVE to use this Laval bitch? She's beyond stupid, and that really doesn't help us none... besides, she thinks the reporters LOVE her when they spen' so much time laughin' behind her back," Sharpton asked.
"Well, we don't have a lot to work with here- I've juss had fo' mo' back out us- we down to thuty two right now... an' CNN say they ain't gonna cover sumpin small like that,"
"Well... tell her if he keeps her mouth shut, we'll give her an extra $40,"

Shirley Phelps- Roper and her Sister Rebekah Phelps- Davis had already made reservations throughout Minneapolis for the weekend of the 19th. Their party of 45 was dispersed all over the town to avoid counter-protest and frank refusals of service. Everybody- including the children- had been briefed as to what would be said and how it was to be said- this would catch the attention of a nation gone astray in their opinions.

They were ready for it... or so they thought...

"Do I really HAVE to go?" Atsali moaned for the fifth time that day.
"You OUGHT to, just to show your love of Shelly and Justin... and it might do you some good to get out with others. And yes, I know that you have to be totally human and you really don't like that- well, there are a LOT of folks in the same boat there, little girl, so you might want to show a little resolve and who know? You MIGHT even enjoy yourself..." Katherine told her.
"But... we're expecting trouble there, right? I mean, why bring everybody there if there's going to be trouble?"
"We will have enough warning to keep things under control- besides, we have about half of the Police Department and more than a few Sheriff's Deputies attending- on TOP of all the preparation YOUR FATHER put into this along with several others... YOU will be shunted to a 'safe room' along with the children and 'squishies'... "
"While you and Dad face bullets! Momma, do you HAVE to do this?"
Katherine looked at her daughter- here was the issue at hand- "Yes, dear, I do... 'for evil to flourish...."
"It is only necessary that good men sit by and do nothing'... yes, I know," Atsali finished, "But I don't like it,"
"Neither do I, Sweetheart, neither do I,"

That night, around midnight, Kevin heard the door to his room creak open... he felt the subtle weight of a smallish body on his mattress... he smiled... he felt the waif-like girl-child snuggle into his body, as she had done several times already. Pretending sleep, he clumsily wrapped his arms around her and settled himself... sleep was quite easy and comforting with her sharing the bed. He started to drift off when...
"Kevin," came a small, nervous voice, "Are you awake?"
"Yes,"
She sucked in her breath, "... so... you knew I came into your bed while I was doing it?"
"Yes,"
She held her breath for a bit, "Do... do you love me?"
"Yes,"
She lay still for a while, "I love you, you know..."
"Yes, I know..."
"Why didn't you mention it?"
"Same reason I never let you know that I am aware of when you come into my bed- I didn't want to scare you,"
She was again silent for a spell- "It is kinda scary, isn't it?"
"Yes,"
"Kevin?"
"Yes?"
"Kevin, I don't ever want to be afraid of you... and I don't ever want you to be afraid of me... but what I am feeling for you scares the holy shit out of me... I need to trust you, more than I have ever trusted somebody in my life... can I do that?"
"I can do everything in my power to earn your trust... but in the end, you are the one who has to trust me... can you trust me, is the real question,"
She rolled around to his face and looked at him in the soft moonlight spilling in through the window. Looking into his eyes, she rolled the question around her mind... all the tortures, the rapes, the beatings... finally the flames... and then being made to do horrible things to others...
Looking into Kevin's eyes pushed it all away, as something irrelevant, unimportant... something that did not define this moment...
She kissed him... slowly, deliberately... her velvety tongue found his and the two did sport with each other. she caught his upper lip with her teeth, playfully pulling at it.
"Yes... I can... and... and... I... want..."
She kissed him again, this time more furiously....
Kevin didn't need her to say what she wanted by that time...

---
"Hey, Becky," Stan said in greeting as he wandered into Much Mocha. "Your boss around?"

"Hey, Stan - she had to bop downstairs for some more beans. She'll be back in a second." Stan nodded and went to sit down, before Becky stopped him. "Hey, you two were invited to Justin's wedding, right?"

"Yeah, we are - and I'm really looking forward to seeing what kind of concoction you put together for the two of them!" He smiled back at her.

"Oh, I've got something up my sleeve, that's for sure," she said. "Actually, there was something strange. We got a phone call just this afternoon, wanting to know if we had portable coffee urn service. Some lady with a southern accent. Name of Phelps-Roper..."

She stopped. "Is something wrong? You look like someone punched you in the gut..."

"Tell Tina to meet me at the castle!" He said, running back out the door.

Just as the outside door closed, Tina emerged from the basement with a burlap sack of coffee beans. "These things get heavier every time we order 'em. Who was that?"

"That was your boyfriend, Stan," Becky said. Tina's eyes rolled - and not in the swirling way they normally did.

"Wait - why'd he run out like that?"

"Dunno. He said something about meeting him at the castle... HEY! Where you going?"

"Gotta go - close up for me!" Tina dashed out the door and over to the alley.

Becky was left alone - flabbergasted and speechless.

"I told them we didn't do delivery..."

Sadly, in the "real life imitates art - or is it the other way around?" category...

---

I hung up the phone.

"According to my dad, the funeral will be later this week. Doesn't look like it'll interfere with the wedding, but still."

"He wasn't doing very good, last we heard," Sarah replied. "And at least Ripon isn't as far of a drive."

"Yeah. Second uncle I've lost this year, though." I thought for a moment. "I'm going to have to see if I can reschedule when I can pick up the dragon body armor..."

<EDIT: Yes. I just got word tonight. >

Sorry to hear that, Joe.

Prayers and sincere wishes from the House of Howard/Harris... in spite of what some east coast Newsrag might vomit across it's headlines, I know what prayer can do,

My sympathies and prayers you have. Take care.

May God comfort you and your family, during this difficult time.

"It is a simple concept, really," Nodaki explained to his immediate command, "we give them the ceremony and the early part of the reception without intervention- they become complacent, there will be alcohol, the efficiency factor degrades considerably. Once we crash the main entrance, Mayahuel and her Daughter will be shunted away from the violence- into the waiting arms of our reception committee. These stalwarts will bring the two directly to me, and I can get the gift that they have to bestow... as her daughter is pregnant, I think we can be most ... convincing... regarding May's co-operating with me on this,"
"But boss- what if she screws you over?" one of the more clever subordinates asked.
"Then you lot do a 'gangbang' on Jin before you kill her... and make it a slow death, please... I assure you, even May will not take that risk. She knows me only too well, AND knows that she cannot kill me... I suppose under other proper duress, she might just tell me what I need to know... then I can make more of what I am, properly created so as to be indestructible, invincible... you have wondered about taking over the Twin Cities? Oh, there is SOOOO much more to be had, I assure you,"

Nobody noticed the unblinking ice cold blue eyes in the shadows...

jwhouk wrote:. . . <EDIT: Yes. I just got word tonight. >

My condolences.

--FreeFlier

jwhouk, my thoughts are with you and your kin...

jwhouk wrote:Sadly, in the "real life imitates art - or is it the other way around?" category...

<EDIT: Yes. I just got word tonight. >

My thoughts and prayers and those of my family will be with you. It's not much, I know, but know we stand with you in this time of pain.

Alan

I had lost all my uncles some time back- and many of my cousins are no longer with me. I have an older Brother whom I seldom speak with, four children, two of whom are adult, two grandchildren and one niece. Within my particular family, I am considered the pinnacle... meaning in the march to death, I am probably closest to head of the line.
Our separation at death is inevitable. It is also temporary, for where others have gone we shall follow. I love my family dearly, and they love me as well- I have spent time with each and all regarding this issue. I have come to terms with my mortality as much as any man can, and hope that my strength in the matter will give courage to those I leave behind.
The insane thing is that our fictitious characters have a better shot at immortality than we ever will- Samuel Clemmons is dead, but Huck Finn is alive and well. JK Rowlands continues to age, but Harry Potter is ageless. As long as readers find our efforts noteworthy, Neil, Emerauld, John, Stan, Joe, Greg, Al, Buck, Daisy... and of course, Nicodemus... will live.
Immortality is best left to fiction and the Creator- and will be bestowed upon those who follow his will. Our process of death begins with first breath- death serves to remind us that life is short and fragile...

But trust me, it's a wonderful ride!

And it ain't over yet...

For Safyr, going to battle being mere routine, the last thought on her mind was of her sister, as battles had been more than routine for her, they were a sort of devotion for a time.

"Senger lu'Jallil, sslig'ne ilta dal l'vigaj nindol xonathull..."
"Lord and Lady, protect her from the madness this battle..."

Safyr slept the sleep of the dreamless, for the Lady of Nightmares and Dreams knew better than to visit without damned good reasons.

For Emerauld, sleep did not visit as simply as her sister.
She prepared all her gear, checking them again. This was ceremony, no, a ritual, preparing weapons for battle, packing enough arrows, and spare bowstrings, maybe a few healing brews and bandages...
The memories of past battles flooded her, caressing her with a familiar copper-tinged warmth, and she grinned, letting that warmth flood her until her blood felt that battle-song. She then paused; frowning, and punched the frozen ground until her knuckles were raw and bloodied, letting the pain flood through her, purging that traitorous memory from her thoughts.

"I am no longer a berzerker...I cannot be...I will never be again!" she thought, her gaze and resolve steely.

Wrapping her knuckles roughly...she did not dare heal them yet lest the pain leave and memories intrude again, she very carefully, soberly, unpacked all unnecessary gear from her pack and stored them in the large metal trunk that Buck Alexander had kindly provided earlier, surprised that he considered it payment for something, and not letting her barter for it.
She had not given him anything...that she could remember. She marveled too at the fine silk mesh he gave her to cover it, making it look like a leaf covered hill. She would have to remember this, and implement it later in her travels.
Even more carefully, she packed into her bag the bandages, salves, and healing brews she purchased while...home. She only hoped it was enough.

Next, she drew energies from the leylines, storing them in the crystal wands the way the mages showed her, and wrapped them. She now understood why they needed to stop after a while, for the exchange was physically draining. She ignored it for just a bit longer, hoping this would exhaust her into rest.

Finally, at the edge of exhaustion, she knelt, praying to the Lord and Lady that she could keep her sister and new friends alive and whole, and not need to fight...she needed to have Clarity.

Curling into the cot in the visitors hut, she breathed in the scents of all the friends who came, and met the dreamless darkness of sleep.
The runes on her hands and wrists glowed, coalescing into a whirling galaxy of light on her injuries, healing them as answer to her prayer, leaving behind a single new rune on her ring finger, pale as the frost.

---
Cavin knocked softly on his sister's door.

"Cricket, you still up?"

"I am now," she said sleepily. "What's up?"

"I just got back from Racine. Mikael is still struggling, but I think he'll recover." Cavin stepped in and closed the door all but a crack.

"That's good - right?"

"Kinda. Wasn't able to get much from him, though. He didn't really know how he ended up in ICU."

"How'd ya get in? Human hospitals are pretty selective of who they let in to their ER's."

"Miss Pratt. She had MIB authorize it." Cavin sighed. "He looked awful. He's got a CO from RYOC watching him - and an MIB agent."

"Ya'd think dat da Golem guy woulda done a follow-up on 'im by now, what wit' tha wedding bein' tomorrow."

"Yeah - but they also t'ink it might be a misdirect play. Get ev'ryone focused on Mikael, not on tha weddin'."

The two siblings exchanged glances.

"You worried 'bout tomorrow?" Cavin asked quietly.

"I've seen what Miss Villarreal is capable of." She thought for a moment. "Only a little, but that's for others."

"Like your siren friend - and those ursamorph twins?" Calista nodded.

"I wished Nadette and Atsali woulda got things patched up between 'em before da weddin'," she said with a small sigh. "It's gonna be awkward, on top of all da otha crap."

Cavin chuckled.

"Life an' death, and you're playin' shipper. You're sucha romantic."

"Am not! I just wanna see my friends happy..."

"Are TOO!"

"AM NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

"CHILDREN!" came a booming voice from the bedroom across the hall.

The two Fae's faces froze for a moment, then Cavin quickly slipped out the door and back to his own room.

We didn't do it, nobody heard nor saw us, ya can't prove a thing!

Typical siblings

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Minor sequencing issue, folks, nothing to see here...move along...

This should have been like a Christmas morning - everyone was getting presents, but no one was particularly joyous about it.

Eme and Safyr had popped into the manor after their trip to the tinker’s realm and a stop in camp, and began to pull wrapped package after package from Emerauld’s sack. Again the women gathered, and Edward was invited in as well.

“Edward, this is for you.” Emerauld said – she’d gotten his measurements from Daisy, who had them from his tailor for his uniforms.

He took the package, looking at it skeptically, until Emerauld unwrapped it for him. Holding up the jacket liner, his voice faded to a near-whisper and an “I say, thank you Mistress Emerauld!” escaped his lips. Removing his uniform coat, he slipped the jacket on and fastened the front – it fit perfectly. He bent, twisted and moved around – it held closely to him without causing restriction.

Emerauld instructed him in its use. “This should be worn under your shirt – wear something under it so that it does not chafe you. You should feel no issue in movement with it on – if you do see me.”

Quietly uttering his thanks, he left the room, and the door was again closed.

This time Miss Annie was all business.

“Ladies, these are your armored garments. Take them, examine them, try them on and if you are going to shift do so. We have very little time to waste here, and much to do.”

Around the room, packages were being opened, garments removed, armor fitted and mobility checks taking place. Cinnamon, in her namesake colour with an embroidered rose pattern overlaying it, shifted from human to feral and back again, checking the fit in both forms. Daisy, now familiar with the fitting of these bodices, walked among the ladies, checking a set of laces here, checking straps there, and examining edges elsewhere.

Jin, opening her package, was shocked to find not a bodice but a complete dress in the white firedrake scales. “Emerauld, this is beautiful! Are these the firedrake scales you used for Monica?”

“Yes, they are, and as you’re pregnant I didn’t see that putting you in something tightly fitting over your abdomen was a good idea. This will give you some protection, and will also conceal your abdomen when used with this.”

She handed her a small box. In it was a heavy silver chain, and a small plain talisman. “Handle it by the chain when you put it on and off. It’s already been primed with the person you will be masquerading, so you need to not handle it directly. “

Jin quickly changed into the dress – the layered look to it not only fit her beautifully it covered her pregnancy unless one knew what to look for.

“We’ll need to make sure Miss Sarah gets hers, and that Joe gets his vest. The way things are with the death in his family they may not make it, but if they do they’ll need their protection.”

Soon, all of the fittings were checked, and the garments packed back into their wrappings for use the next morning. All loved the work that Emerauld had put into them – making them objects of beauty as well as utilitarian protective devices.

Accepting thanks as she circulated among the women, Emerauld wondered to herself how many of these would serve the purpose they were made for – and she prayed to her Gods that the answer was none.

AN: Glytch's and my post got merged...bottom half is his.

The manor was dark and quiet. All who were there were supposed to be sleeping, but few were. Many minds were on the day tomorrow. Couples had been drawn to each other for mutual comfort, much as baby animals will huddle together when their mother is gone.

Greg and Annie, Neil and Phix, Alan and Jin, Kevin and Bud, even Monica and Georgette…each couple alone in their room, each person alone in their own mind reviewing tomorrow’s events over and over again. Few managed to rest, though they should have been doing so.

TIna kept her internal lights on, as concerned as the rest, as she and Stanley cuddled together in their tower room.

Al and Daisy spooned together, neither speaking though both awake. Neither knew what to say.

From nowhere conscious came the lines of an old love song.

If this is the last kiss,
let's make it last all night
If this is the last time I'm ever, ever gonna hold you
Let me hold you tight 'till the morning light
If this is the last time
we'll ever be together
Kiss me and baby give me something tender to remember you by

----------

Those individuals with no partner to take solace in had other ways of dealing with the tension... Glytch, too jittery and wired to sleep at first, worked at his laptop for a few hours - studying blueprints and strategic plans, visualizing different scenarios and situations, making notes and drawings of his own to solidify everything in his mind.

Need to review what the trick arrows do before we head out...

He managed to exhaust himself enough to sleep by 1 in the morning... Though it was a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares, both of the remembered past and the imagined future, he awoke energized and buzzing... He felt like his body was a tightly coiled spring coursing with almost too much electricity.

On the edge of the Alexander's property, John sat cross-legged at the precipice of the clay bluff he had nearly blown apart earlier, hands and fingers spread out, ribbons of undulating, pulsating fire writhing around him, producing the eerie music of his mind. He did not sleep, but remained in his trance until dawn.

Brandi worked late at the office that night, laboring to uncover any loose thread or piece of information that might help them tomorrow.

Billens knelt at his bed, a white towel spread in front of him, rags and q-tips at his side, and his thrice-cleaned gun on the towel. Here we go again...