A Scripta

Thwunk.

Lodestar knew that sound well. It was the sound of something forcibly entering a human body. The object was usually not sharp, but didn't have the same "crunch" or "pop" as a hammer or a bat. This object would actually go through the body somehow.

Slurp - Thwunk.

Lodestar stared at the mass on the ground that might have been a man but was now a pile of flesh, blood and bones. He looked at Nate, who had a wild, feral look, as if he would jump over the pile to attack him in the same way. Nate had in his hand a simple carpenter's hammer, full of blood and gore.

If I leave him alone with this he'll be stuck here forever, killing the man who frightened him more than anything, the man who actually beat him within an inch of his life; who, when Nate didn't do what he demanded, proceded to beat him with a paddle used for paddle-ball, broke it, grabbed a poker, then started beating him with that. Then the man proceeded to get his way anyway.

Nate was five years old and wouldn't sit on his uncle's lap.

"Nate, look at me, Nate. Focus."

He looked up, took a shuddering breath, looked down at his handiwork. "I hate him, I hate him."

"He's gone. He can't hurt you."

"He hurts me here!" Nate grabbed his chest.

Lodestar kicked the body. "You've gone beyond this, Nate."

He looked up at Lodestar. "What do you mean?"

"You know what he was trying to do, your uncle the pedophile." Lodestar stepped on the mass of flesh. "But it didn't get to you, you know why?"

"Why?"

Lodestar smiled at him. "You love Dais'ke."

He looked confused.

"You can love a man or a woman. Some people can't after being exposed to that." Lodestar looked into Nate's eyes and said, "Let it go."

Nate stared at him, dropped the hammer. It disappeared before it hit the ground.

Nate perked his head at the older man's approach. Expectantly, he asked, "Daisuke?"

"No."

"Oh." He looked down disappointedly. "Anyone?"

"Star."

He smiled. "She a good person."

Lodestar sat down and nodded. "That she is. A rare pure jewel."

"I don't hate her."

He said nothing, looking across to him.

"Daisuke," he said wistfully. "He's left me."

"Nate, I don't--"

"I don't really blame him. I was never good for him. I destroyed him."

"Nate, he hasn't left you."

"Nothing. Not even tried to find out how I was doing." He sat back down again. "I hurt him so much." Nate focused on Lodestar. Nate's eyes were clear, without any anguish. "Lodestar, it's okay." He looked down. "He doesn't want me anymore. I've hurt him too much."

Lodestar touched Nate's hand. "I don't think he's left you. I think he's giving you time to be alone so you can work things out here," he gestured to the empty land before him.

"If he never comes back, I'll be all right. I'll just move on, find some nice girl, or find no one at all."

Lodestar looked at Nate's face, studied his aura. He hid nothing, no anger, no defiance, no lying. "You're serious."

He nodded. "I'm sad, but I'll be all right. I couldn't take it out on him."

"Will you take it out on anyone?"

Nate smiled slightly. "I'll try not to." Lodestar looked beyond Nate to see a woman standing a few feet behind him. Nate didn't turn around to see where Lodestar was looking.

He sighed. "It's my mother." He got up from kneeling on the ground next to Lodestar. "I'll be with her for a while, but if Daisuke comes..."

Lodestar nodded and watched Nate turn to go back to see this woman - who had knives sticking out of her back.

Sleep is overrated, I tell you.

When I'm stuck, I pull out the cards. I have the Robin Wood deck, which I think is beautiful (though overtly caucasian) and simple. I usually cleanse them through incense, passing them through the cloud, then through a candle flame. Then I shuffle, thinking about the question. Sometimes I cut the deck into three piles, sometimes two, sometimes I just pull one out. In this case I just picked the top card.

Eight of swords.

Swords is a suit of action, mostly drastic or "bad". Swords cut, after all. In this deck, the card shows a woman tied up or in restraints standing on a desolate seashore, with eight swords surrounding her. It means being held back, tied up, restrained - and no one can help (the swords stop them). Mase is restrained with more than cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He's restrained by his own anger (also the swords). Swords cut him and others. His anger hurts himself and others.

Who is he angry at? This is what he's going to be out of it for, to try and figure it out. But the body can't just lay there...

or "I have writer's block!"

Once I remember going to a workshop/seminar on writing and the person there suggested using flash cards with words on them as a spark to writing. I had a better idea: Tarot cards.

Quick and dirty history lesson: Tarot decks were the harbingers of our playing decks. (Spades = Swords; Hearts = Cups; Clubs = Wands; Diamonds = Pentacles/Coins, and the Joker was the number 0 of the deck, the Fool) Where they came from is debated, how they changed from fortune telling to poker is another story too. They lost the Major Arcana, the number 0 - 21 cards. The ones you hear about "The Devil" and "The Lovers" are the Major Arcana.

Tarot decks originally had the number of the item printed on it and that's it. Eight of rods had eight sticks. It's believed that the Rider-Waite pack, under the direction of the Golden Dawn, is the first deck to use pictures in the minor arcana (the numbered and suited cards). These pictures, along with their interpretation, can usually spark a seed into at least sticking its head out of the sand.

When I'm stuck, I turn to the cards. People have different ways of preparing the cards for receiving. I'll tell you what I do later.

Shoot, falling asleep...

Masonry gazed at his lover's eyes and wished he could do something to take the pain away. He knew he was the one who caused it.

"I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

Frosty turned away. "You're always sorry."

"I know, I know, you think I won't change."

"It's your nature."

"It is NOT my nature."

"Then why do you do it?"

"Because I'm a kid with a gun."

Frosty closed his eyes. Masonry went to put his arm around him. Frosty shrugged and turned into a block of ice.

He refuses you. So what're you going to do about it? Now? Later? Tomorrow? When he's dying?

He promised not to leave me. He's keeping his promise, and it's hurting him to do it. I should let him go. Let them all go.

Let them all go.

Masonry sank to his knees before the ice block, not in tears for once. Not begging. It was going to take some work, and he didn't want to be standing. He went through in his mind's eye all the people that he had been angry with, and they were legion. Frosty disappeared before his eyes; Tommy Sass stood in front of him. He wore the school's varsity coat with its letters on it, looking entirely like he did in his yearbook as Nate had memorized. Masonry looked up into the eyes whose life he had snuffed out, the first one he took his revenge on.

"If anyone should be angry it should be me at you, don't you think?" he snarled.

Nate nodded quietly.

"Do it again."

"I'm done," he said, and Tommy slowly faded out of sight to be replaced by Hammer.

Hammer laughed at him, his arms folded across his chest. "This is gonna take a long longer than what you think, Booger," he said, calling him by the nickname they all had for him. "Because we ain't gonna let you go that easy. . ."

---------------------------

"Doctor, 15a won't get up."

Dr. LaPlaca stared for a moment at the orderly. "Have you given him a stimulant?"

The orderly shook his head. "Jessica doesn't think it's a good idea. She said he's almost in a trance."

Jessica had a Kheldian, so LaPlaca knew what she was talking about. "Should we restrain him?"

"Maybe so? Just in case?"

The doctor nodded. He hoped when 15a woke up that he wouldn't try and kill them all.

Masonry opened the door to the individual therapy room and stopped, his hand on the handle of the door. "You," he whispered.

"Come in, Nate."

Masonry sat down across from the person that he hadn't seen since his time in prison. Dr. Orbison sat straight and stiff at the other side of the table.

"We have all the time you need, Nate." He uncapped a pen and poised it over paper, eyeing Masonry as he did so. He scribbled something, recapped the pen and sat back. "So how's your life been?"

"It was fine."

"Until you fucked it up again." He rattled off, counting on his fingers, "Threatening your teammates. Going to the Isles. Getting taken into the Repatriation Program at the FBSA. Assault. Murder."

"Murder?!"

"At least a dozen murders have already been pegged on you over in the Isles. You go back over there, you're dead."
"I have no plans to go back."

"You had no plans to fuck it all up, either."

"So you don't believe me."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Not a bit."

"What the hell do I have to do to satisfy you people?"

"Do what you're supposed to do, for one. What're you here for, Nate?"

"I'm a danger to myself and--"

"No, here. As a hero. What for?"

"Glory."

"You had people who worshiped you, I hear. Not good enough?"

"I had to leave them."

"Were they good enough? Rumor has it you killed them."

"Some."

"And you don't feel one bit of remorse."

"I didn't at the time. I do now."

"Did you feel anything at the time?"

"Anger."

"Who are you angry at?"

Masonry had been pondering that all day and all night. He looked up and snarled, "Everyone."

"Why?"

"You're all a threat."

"Because..?"

"You'll all hurt me."

Orbison looked at him, and gave a short laugh. "You think my life is centered around you? You think I stay up nights plotting ways to hurt you?"

"No, I--" He stopped, "No."

"So who are you angry at?"

"Myself?"

"Oh, don't start the pity parties, I didn't bring along any cake."

"You, right now."

"Good. And why?"

"Because you're insulting me."

"Something small like that statement makes you ready to jump over this table and kill me."

"Among other reasons."

"Reasons that had to do with me doing something with you that you didn't like. Don't like to think, do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're lazy."

"I'm not getting it --"

Orbison leaned back. "I'll wait."

Masonry stared at him. What does he mean? He remembered Star's words, Stopping easy and hard. Hard to start to stop, but easy once you do it. Why is it hard to start to stop? Because you have to physically - or mentally - switch what you're doing. Like handling the mace, the momentum carries it along, and your weight's behind it as it moves through the air, but what if you know it's heading toward a target you didn't want to hit? How hard is it to stop it? You've pulled muscles by pulling back on the mace and stopping a swing. Same with the anger - it swings, heading toward its target, you need to yank it back. With Ben helping you along, validating your anger and using it, you forgot how. But you can if you really want to.

"Were you born evil?"

Masonry came out of his reverie to stare at him. "What?"

"Were you born evil? Were you set on this world to kill people?"

He blinked and thought back. "No, it wasn't until the abuse at school."

"That's when you thought you were evil?"

"I wanted to hurt them at the time, but I couldn't."

"Were you evil, then?"

"Is wanting revenge evil?"

"My question first, Nate."

Masonry said quietly, "No."

"Did the drugs make you evil?"

"No."

"Your first Kheldian made you evil?"

"No, no, I think it was before that."

"So somewhere between graduating high school and your first Kheldian, you became evil."

"I don't think evil."

"Then what."

"I know what you mean by being lazy."

Orbison gave him a nod. "Then explain it to me."

"If I'm going down a path of anger, it's easier for me to keep on going than it is to stop. It's like pulling back something you already have in motion."

Orbison nodded. "Good. It only took you ten minutes to figure it out. There's hope for you, yet." He smiled. "I can see the anger in your eyes already. What're you going to do about it?"

Masonry sighed. "Nothing."

"Because you can't, can you? You jump over this table and you'll be dead within ten minutes. You and your Kheldian."

"Jack too? They said Jack would be extrac--"

"They won't have time if you attack me now. Ah, so that stops you, the death of your Kheldian. The death of your boyfriend won't?"

"Don't bring him into this."

"He's the one whose name you utter in dreams, who you depend on, and he's refusing you. What're you going to do about it?"

He's refusing you.

Orbison sat back and buffed his nails. "Kill him, I say. He's not doing what you want. He doesn't worship you anymore, he doesn't trust you. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? You want to kill him."

"He's done nothing to me. He's always been there. I l--" He stopped.

"If you loved me like that, Nate, I would have committed suicide a long time ago." He stood up. "I have plenty of time to go through this, Nate, but you don't. Think about this: How do you stop yourself?"

"What do you mean I don't?"

"For your safety you're going to be moved to the Peregrine Island facility. Think about my question, and you won't have to worry about yours."

He disappeared from sight.

Unfortunately, the muse is not very organized today. I'm suspecting it has to do with other distractions. Mase's placement in the asylum took me six hours (with playing in between). So Provo's story is being lobbed at me in bits and pieces - scenes and snippets.

Hey, this is my writer's journal. I can screw up if I want to.

For the Republican Movement only a struggle on many fronts will achieve the Republican objective of restoring the "ownership of Ireland to the people of Ireland" (1916 Proclamation). - WHAT IS IRISH REPUBLICANISM? By Ruairí Ó Brádaigh, President Sinn Féin in the Irish Independent, December 9, 1970.

"Allie, Allie, ye takin' th' red'er'blue?"

Alan picked up the blue t-shirt, started yanking it over his head. "So are we ready?"

"Almos'." His roommate picked up the red shirt and pulled it on. He pulled on his jacket to make sure the pistol in the holster didn't show. "You?"

Alan patted the pocket of his coat. "Two pounds - one kilo - of PE-4."

His partner nodded. "That'll ge'air attention."

The two young men stepped out into the dim light of dawn.

What the plan for this story was:
Alan and the red-shirted kid were supposed to plant a bomb in the car of Catholic minister in Belfast. Why, don't know. Who, don't know either. The IRA started decommissioning in 2001. Alan should be, at present, around 30 years old, which means he was born just around the height of "the Troubles".

Just because the IRA decomissioned doesn't mean they stopped. They splintered off into more or less militant groups, but seemed to be more into the training aspect than the actual action. So let's say Alan doesn't actually do bombings, but he knows how, and he's done it in training sessions. He got caught in Derry with some incidiary devices and was deported. Finished college with a Chemical Engineering Degree, he worked for assorted demolition companies all up and down the East Coast.

It was during this time that he got electrocuted. Hit by lightning. Something. From that point he constantly exuded electricity in a radius (Lightning Field or whatever the hell that is). Well, he obviously couldn't work around explosives anymore. He and some friends eventually created the vest that he wears, that pretty much lets out electricity as he needs it. For a strange reason, he likes to be constantly bathed in it, so will usually have it on in some way. (Plus it looks cool.)

His knowledge was still in demand, so he prepared chemical bombs, passive bombs, TNT explosives, any kind that was wanted by any group, particularly the "Fifth Column of the IRA" so to speak. He was arrested after a tip-off, and he's on the search to find out who. Because of his electrical issues, he was allowed to keep the harness. Of course, he was searched more often than other prisoners since he had the extra harness, but that didn't stop him from sneaking things in.

While in the Zig he beefed himself up, with the full intent of going after whoever turned him in. Not only did he become useful as a mule, but also as a bruiser. He didn't always win - then, he didn't always want to. Many were allowed to run and then get beat up later, when they least expected it, and when it hurt MORE.

Why is he with Styrm? He knows a good thing when he sees it. Styrm built that battle suit, which he's impressed with. (He's more impressed with the guns than the suit. Wait until trip mines. He'll drool.) Styrm's got a good and intelligent head on his shoulders, he knows what he's doing, he's got charisma. Styrm might have heard that he's a bruiser and the reason he's in the Zig. Styrm might have figured that he would be a good wall between the enemies and himself. If something explodes, Styrm might think, let Provo take the hit. Or hits.

Is he evil? He's not morally ambiguous, he's morally empty. Tell him to kill someone, he would - because he knows he can, and he'll eventually start liking it.

So there's my take. I hope I can keep close enough to that outline, anyway.

(edit: corrected formatting and clarity)

Masonry walked into the pre-op room and started stripping. He was still irritated from seeing Daisuke - and he hadn't seen him since, even though he looked for him. He threw his shirt onto the chair, his belt following with a snap, and falling off it. Boots, socks, pants and underwear followed. He slipped on the johnny just as the curtain opened.

"You're already undressed?" Hannah stared at him, trying not to oogle. Hannah, stop it.

He gave her a slight smile. "Johnny's too small though." It barely covered him.

"That's because it's for a human, there should be one large enough here." She squatted and opened a drawer under the bed. She rummaged though trying not to look at his legs. She stood up, and she was very close to him, close enough to smell him. Looking up into his dark blue eyes, she muttered, "Here...you...go."

The two stared at each other, then Masonry blinked, coughed and looked away, blushing. One hand came up and took the johnny from her hand, even while he didn't look at her. "Thanks."

Hannah swallowed, backed away. "Sure. I'll send... I'll send Steve in for the IV."

Masonry was blushing, as he held the new johnny close to his chest. "Okay, fine, that's fine." She almost ran between the curtains to get out.

Humans, admonished Luminescence. You know what he is.

He's still attractive, Lumi!

He's a killer. Lots of killers are attractive so they can get their quarries. He will kill you with the same passion he looked at you. Don't. Don't, Hannah, don't.

"I'm going to check the equipment," she said to both Steve and Luminescence.

Think. Clinically. She concentrated entirely on the machines before her, watching Steve place the electrodes on the big man's head. Then she nodded to Steven when he sat down. "1000 milliamps. Three seconds."

The EEG went off again. Hannah nodded. "Again."

Steve hit the button again. She saw something jerk out of the corner of her eye - his hand was squeezed tight around the iron bar. His muscles were tightening in his arm, thick sinews bunching up under the skin. "He's trying to get out of it," Hannah said. "You'll need to give him more anesthesia next time."

The muscles relaxed. Steve went to the IV with more sedative. As he touched Masonry's arm, his other hand snapped out of the restraints, reached over his chest and grabbed a hold of Steve's wrist so tightly that Hannah heard the bones crunch. In a flash she was on the same side of the bed as Steven as she gripped Masonry's arm in the same place that he held Steve's. She squeezed, and would press on the nerve that would cause pain to release his hand.

"Don't. Take. It," he growled. Steven whimpered.

Hannah felt the muscles relax under her hand as he slowly let go of Steve's crushed wrist. "Dais'ke," he whispered and his hand went back to his side as he passed out.

Hannah took a hold of Steve's hand and willed her healing energy into it. She felt bones knit, muscles straighten, and Steve sighed. "Thanks, doc," he said.

"Don't mention it." She smiled, though it looked forced. "Sit down over there, I'll finish this." She walked over to the ECT machine, her lips pursed and determined.

--------------

Masonry opened his eyes to stare at a white ceiling. He tried to sit up but was tied down. He looked around, saw he was in a bed, the railings up. He blinked, not sure where he was, but figuring someone would come around to untie him.

He slowly remembered he was in a hospital, that he came in for the shock therapy. Jack was somewhere in his mind. Daisuke was alone. Jack had thrown away the drugs during the time he had spoken to Daisuke. He needed to tell the doctor that.

Someone came over to the side of the bed. He was dressed in a suit and wore dark glasses, similar to Crey agents. "Mr. Greene," he said, and Masonry knew by the tone of his voice that he was in big trouble. "We've been called in to take you to Peregrine Asylum."

"Asylum? They said I was fine."

"Doctor Weiner and said you attacked one of her nurses during your treatment." He stepped away and folded his arms across his chest. "You are a danger to yourself and others, Mr. Greene. You can voluntarily commit yourself or we will be forced to take you tied up like you are." He looked at his watch. "One minute."

He yanked at the restraints. "What's the fucking difference?!"

"The difference is, Mr. Greene, is that if you sign yourself in, you are not violating your parole."

"What about my clothes? And I have other--"

"Keen Frost will be informed." The man smiled coldly. "You're not good at hiding it."

"I should at least see--"

"You are a danger to him as well. Especially to him. Thirty seconds."

Jack, Jack, what do I do?

No answer. He tried to shove his way back, to abandon his body, but something stopped him. He was fully conscious when the agent said, "Fifteen seconds."

He looked back and forth, like a deer caught in headlights, not knowing what to do. Then, he stopped, his mind's eye focused on one thing: Daisuke's pain-filled eyes. "Okay, I'll sign myself in."

Open letter to Masonry:

Okay, Nate, I've had it with you.

Grow the fuck up.

You've ruined a man's life, a man who you supposedly "love", who loves you to the ends of the earth and back, and you threw it all away. You've done this before. But this time it hurt me, your director.

We know who you reflect, just like Kill did. We know whose moods you reflect, we know when the player's had a bad day or is on a downswing - because he ruins other characters' lives. And when the player's on an upswing, you get "healed" somehow.

I've given you everything: out of prison. A permanent babysitter (Lodestar) - who's mealy-mouthed for a reason. Time and space to go and fulfil those "wicked desires" as Daisuke calls them. Kit forgave you. Notion forgave you. Artemis forgave you. Star's almost there in forgiving you. A psychiatrist, a neurosurgeon, and shock therapy. The FBSA. DRUGS, for chrissake. Thrown away.

No more, Nate, no more. As your director signed off last night, tears of sadness and frustration in her eyes, she thought of what Daisuke's static face looked like, and hoped that Daisuke's player could put more distance between them than she could.

If you are this dark and evil, Nate, I don't mind playing you out - but not on Virtue or not with the Gang o' Four or with anyone that I know. Because your actions will disgust your fellow players like they already have. Your director can live with with that darkness and evil and wallow in it - who made who, after all - but not forever and not with people whose lives you've already tortured.

So here's the deal - no, actually, no. There is no deal. You grow up. If you don't grow up then I'll get Kill back to be the badge whore and you disappear into retirement never to be seen again. Will it hurt me? Sure it will. But I never, ever want to see Daisuke - or me - that upset again.

Masonry Redux: I need to speak with Lieutenant Matsumoto, please.

Masonry Redux: Lieutenant Matsumoto - oh, thank you.

Keen Stronghold raises an eyebrow.

Masonry Redux: Excuse me.

Keen Stronghold: I'm busy here.

Masonry Redux: I would like to speak with you, it shouldn't take long.

Keen Stronghold narrows his eyes.

Masonry Redux: It regards a personal matter.

Keen Stronghold: I don't think we have anything to--

Masonry Redux: (speaking in Japanese) [It has to do with something that was taken from you.]

Keen Stronghold: [Why should I talk it over with you?]

Masonry Redux: [Because it is something...that needs to be done.]

Keen Stronghold gives a small sigh.

Keen Stronghold: Where.

Masonry Redux: Someplace quiet and without interruption, if you please.

Masonry Redux: A rooftop, perhaps. Can you still fly?

Keen Stronghold: Yes.

Keen Stronghold messes with his comm. (changes his costume)

Keen Stronghold: Pick a building.

Masonry Redux: Nice suit. (finds a building)

Masonry Redux: Acceptable?

Keen Stronghold: I guess.

Masonry Redux: So tell me how Havoc came to be, as you know it.

Keen Stronghold: Who wants to know?

Masonry Redux: Me. Lodestar.

Masonry Redux: My host has a "havoc" that would need to be extracted.

Keen Stronghold: I understand.

Masonry Redux nods.

Keen Stronghold: Although I'm afraid I might not have enough information for you.

Masonry Redux: Perception is part of the inquiry.

Masonry Redux: What you know and remember - and how you felt - will be useful.

Keen Stronghold: ::dispassionately:: Alright.

Masonry Redux: I would offer a seat.

Keen Stronghold: I was on duty, and got caught in an ambush. One member of Arachnos hit me with a strange red energy.

Masonry Redux: Such as the ones usually from their weapons?

Keen Stronghold: I passed out. Next thing I remember is pummeling a hero around, and liking it.

Masonry Redux weaves a little.

Masonry Redux: Go on.

Keen Stronghold: I felt powerful. Enough to take down anyone to satisfy my... innermost wicked desires.

Masonry Redux: Did you have many?

Keen Stronghold: I'd rather skip that part.

Masonry Redux nods.

Keen Stronghold: ::looks around a little::

Masonry Redux: As you wish, though it would be helpful, as to the extent of what could possibly be extracted.

Masonry Redux: My host has enough anger to power the city.

Keen Stronghold: I lost my Captain, my wife, my normal life.

Masonry Redux tilts his head.

Keen Stronghold: I wanted them back. I set my mind to have them back.

Keen Stronghold: The anger was unbearable. I couldn't control it.

Keen Stronghold: I heard my own voice inside my head, asking things I didn't want to do.

Masonry Redux: But you liked it.

Keen Stronghold: That's correct. Yet I refused them enough.

Masonry Redux: So your own will is what changed you, but I am not understanding where Havoc came from.

Keen Stronghold: Whatever struck me, it got out eventually.

Masonry Redux: If Havoc is your darker nature, then what were you?

Masonry Redux: You forced it out.

Masonry Redux: Let me try to understand this.

Keen Stronghold: I guess I did.

Keen Stronghold: I felt like it was going to take me over, and I didn't want that.

Masonry Redux: So I am not understanding how Havoc came to be.

Masonry Redux: If he came to be before you did these things, then...your anger must be bottomless.

Keen Stronghold: When that explosion happened, I saw a red image of myself in front of me. It was burning.

Masonry Redux nods.

Masonry Redux: But if you still had anger after...

Keen Stronghold: After he appeared, I could feel no anger. Hate. Nothing.

Keen Stronghold: But... I was afraid.

Masonry Redux: Yes, yes. Go on.

Masonry Redux: Afraid?

Keen Stronghold: ... couldn't handle a gun.

Keen Stronghold: I couldn't do my job. I had no authority.

Masonry Redux nods.

Keen Stronghold: It was when an engineer, friends with my Guardian, suggested the use of force fields.

Keen Stronghold: I could use them. They meant no harm. To anyone.

Masonry Redux: So you became more passive in your abilities.

Keen Stronghold: Correct.

Masonry Redux: Hm.

Keen Stronghold: Still, I felt insecure. Weak.

Keen Stronghold: Coward.

Masonry Redux: How so? You still worked, your abilities were supportive now.

Keen Stronghold: Havoc had taken my wife hostage, and I went after him to take her back. Somehow.

Keen Stronghold: That was when... Masonry helped me on my journey.

Keen Stronghold: The old Mase I knew.

Masonry Redux: Yes.

Masonry Redux: ::forlornly:: Yes.

Masonry Redux: You did get her back.

Keen Stronghold: When I got to Havoc, we fought, talked. Found out he's been misled.

Keen Stronghold: He didn't want to accept it. He kept talking about his boss, his boss--

Masonry Redux: Yes?

Keen Stronghold ponders for a moment.

Masonry Redux 's tail twitches excitedly.

Keen Stronghold: I had no idea who he was.

Masonry Redux: But Havoc would know.

Keen Stronghold: So do I. But memories are... blurry.

Masonry Redux: You share memories, even separated?

Keen Stronghold: I wanted my "anger" back.

Masonry Redux: But why, if it destroys you?

Keen Stronghold: Anger is a human feeling. One shouldn't live without it. It's only natural.

Masonry Redux: Not when it controls a man.

Keen Stronghold: ... I wanted to be like I was before the whole thing.

Masonry Redux: And the man can no longer control himself.

Masonry Redux: So.. you would not voluntarily go through that again.

Keen Stronghold: Not recommend it.

Masonry Redux sighs disgustedly.

Keen Stronghold: Even so, I don't know who was the responsible for that.

Masonry Redux: Havoc may know.

Keen Stronghold: That's unlikely. He only remembers his boss' voice.

Masonry Redux: Hm.

Keen Stronghold: ... Oranbega... when he was there... with Eri.

Keen Stronghold: He couldn't see him.

Keen Stronghold: It was only a voice.

Keen Stronghold: He was just... a flunky.

Masonry Redux: Times like these I wish I could do magic...

[Help] Spiney Peace: recharge enhancements slotted into powers

Masonry Redux: Oh, I see.

Masonry Redux: That explains much of his demeanor.

Keen Stronghold: When Havoc gave me back my... "anger," our memories had sort of a connection, but we couldn't share it when we did it for the first time.

Masonry Redux: I understand.

Keen Stronghold: We decided to try it again... recently. I have some of his memories now, but they're inconsistent.

Masonry Redux: Then you may not be certain.

Keen Stronghold: Perhaps.

Masonry Redux 's tail twitches again.

Keen Stronghold: Havoc was able to live, using the magic essence he's made of.

Keen Stronghold: But it's only enough to keep him standing, so he can't really do much of magic.

Masonry Redux: This, what is extracted, should not be allowed to "live".

Keen Stronghold: His anger was also toned down, but it's still there.

Masonry Redux: I have seen it.

Keen Stronghold: ... of all things, he's just myself. I don't have any intention of... eliminating him.

Masonry Redux: That would be you, yes.

Masonry Redux: The issue is of not only would it extract my host's anger...but mine as well.

Keen Stronghold: ... yours?

Masonry Redux chuckles, sounding like low tones.

Keen Stronghold: Oh. I see.

Masonry Redux: Do you not think I can be angry as well?

Masonry Redux: My host's anger is slowly affecting me also.

Masonry Redux: If it is extracted...

Masonry Redux: Then we will be at peace.

Masonry Redux: ::quietly:: And dead.

Keen Stronghold frowns inside the mask.

Keen Stronghold: Lodestar. I'm going to be honest here.

Keen Stronghold: When I was under this "thing's" possession... I felt like it was swallowing me.

Keen Stronghold: I didn't feel it was going to be released. It happened because I struggled.

Keen Stronghold: I fought it out. I didn't want it. I had people to care about. I was hurting them.

Keen Stronghold: I can't *even* imagine Mase being taken by that.

Keen Stronghold: ::quietly:: ... he doesn't need any kind of evil magic to hurt people.

Masonry Redux: Which is why it needs to be removed.

Keen Stronghold: It would just make things much worse. Not just to him.

Keen Stronghold: Mase has succumbed to many... pitiful things.

Keen Stronghold: Like vengeance.

Masonry Redux: Yes.

Keen Stronghold: If I didn't struggle, Havoc wouldn't have been created.

Keen Stronghold: ... I'd become him.

Masonry Redux: He won't struggle, Hisagi, that is the problem.

Keen Stronghold: This is what you want?

Masonry Redux: I want him to be happy.

Masonry Redux: But not at the expense of others' lives.

Keen Stronghold: ::annoyed:: ... you're sounding like Daisuke.

Masonry Redux: He is my bondmate. I love him too, after a fashion.

Masonry Redux: He takes the lives of innocents and I should draw the line, but I don't.

Keen Stronghold: ... what kind of friend are you?

Masonry Redux: What do you mean?

Keen Stronghold: You "love" him enough to go havoc - and I'm not talking about magic here.

Keen Stronghold: You protect him, but don't stop him.

Keen Stronghold: If I was on his case before he got into the FBSA... he'd be rotting in jail.

Masonry Redux: No, I . . . because at that moment...

Masonry Redux: Truthfully, as well he should.

Keen Stronghold: Sorry, Lodestar. This is just a bad idea.

Keen Stronghold: I'm not supporting it.

Masonry Redux: What do I do, Hisagi?!

Keen Stronghold: In fact, I'll make sure it doesn't happen.

Masonry Redux: How so.

Keen Stronghold: ::sternly:: Going against you, if I need.

Masonry Redux sighs.

Masonry Redux: That, I do not wish...

Masonry Redux: Then we must take the other route.

Keen Stronghold: Whatever it is... I probably won't b--

Masonry Redux: I had hoped for a permanent solution.

Keen Stronghold winces.

Masonry Redux: Hisagi?

Keen Stronghold looks around suspiciously.

Keen Stronghold: ::mutters:: ... there's someone here.

Masonry Redux: I see no one here.

Keen Stronghold: ... I need to go...

Keen Stronghold looks thoughtful and confused.

Masonry Redux: Hisagi...

Masonry Redux: If you need help.

Keen Stronghold winces harder.

Keen Stronghold: ... I do not!

Masonry Redux: ::sternly:: Which you do. :

Keen Stronghold: ::muttering:: Where's it coming from?

(begins to fly off, flies very high and crashes)

Masonry Redux: Hisagi!

Masonry Redux bends to the body.

Keen Stronghold: ... ungh-- Leave me alone...

Masonry Redux: Hisagi, yes you do.

Masonry Redux cradles him.

Masonry Redux: What is wrong?

Masonry Redux: Where does it hurt?

Masonry Redux: ::slowly picks him up to stand::

Keen Stronghold: ::can't get up on his own::

Masonry Redux: ::holds him up against him::

Masonry Redux: ::the two stand together, Mase holding Hisagi up::

Keen Stronghold: ::grabs his own chest fiercely, tries to say something but fails, eyes glow red as he winces again::

Keen Stronghold: ::a vulture in robes is nearby::

Masonry Redux: ::sends healing energy to Hisagi as he looks around::

Keen Stronghold: ::the healing makes it actually worse::

Keen Stronghold: ........ I feel it-- ::grunts::

Keen Stronghold: ..... no, not again--

Masonry Redux: I have you.

Keen Stronghold: .... that doesn't... HELP!

Keen Stronghold: ::yanks away::

Keen Stronghold: ......... you're... full of hate...!

Masonry Redux: ::lets out a breath::

Masonry Redux: No!

Masonry Redux: No he's not.

Keen Stronghold: :;the vulture goes away, he recovers slowly::

Masonry Redux: ::watches something retreat from the shadows::

Masonry Redux: Hisagi...

Masonry Redux: ::touches his shoulder::

Keen Stronghold: ... I felt it... again.

Masonry Redux: ...something controls you, still.

Keen Stronghold: I don't know.

Masonry Redux: ::looks down and away::

Masonry Redux: That part of you has never completely left.

Masonry Redux: Otherwise, you would accept Nate and Daisuke.

Keen Stronghold: That "part" has always been there, Lodestar.

Keen Stronghold: It's my own feeling to feel... hate towards Masonry.

Masonry Redux lets out a small gasp.

Masonry Redux: I. I am sorry.

Masonry Redux: I am sorry he has done this to you.

Masonry Redux: But--

Masonry Redux: You have the feelings that you say are human.

Masonry Redux: If your will was able to control it, it can do it again.

Keen Stronghold: Humans can only forgive so much, Lodestar.

Masonry Redux: He does not expect you to forgive him.

Masonry Redux: He hopes you would forgive your brother.

Keen Stronghold: I don't intend to.

Keen Stronghold: Daisuke knows better what he does.

Masonry Redux: He is young and trusts too much.

Keen Stronghold: He's a damn adult.

Keen Stronghold: He's blind - but because he doesn't *want* to see it.

Masonry Redux: Because of the same reason I am here, Hisagi.

Masonry Redux: We believe there is something good in there.

Keen Stronghold: I believed, too.

Masonry Redux: He is trying, and no one sees it.

Masonry Redux: His killing of innocents changed your mind.

Keen Stronghold: Pointless killing of innocents.

Masonry Redux: And his want to do so again.

Masonry Redux: He must be stopped...I had hoped by taking the anger it would stop him.

Masonry Redux sighs.

Masonry Redux: I suppose I must try my luck with shock therapy.

Keen Stronghold: He won't be able to live without anger.

Keen Stronghold: He'll feel like... dying.

Keen Stronghold: ... like I did.

Masonry Redux: Yet you live.

Keen Stronghold: I got *it* back.

Keen Stronghold: I *have* my evil instincts back.

Masonry Redux would stomp his foot in frustration if he had one.

Keen Stronghold: I can hold a gun again.

Masonry Redux: So you believe taking the anger would not only stop him but kill him?

Keen Stronghold: He'd sink deep into a hole of depression.

Keen Stronghold: If he doesn't have willpower, he'd never get out of it.

Keen Stronghold: Seeing the facts, I'd say... he has none.

Masonry Redux: He has no willpower now!

Masonry Redux: What else can I do?

Keen Stronghold: Are you looking for a salvation?

Keen Stronghold: ::quietly:: I wonder if there's one.

Masonry Redux: We are trying...

Keen Stronghold: ... for HOW long?

Masonry Redux: *He* is trying... drugs.

Keen Stronghold: How many lives it's going to cost?

Keen Stronghold: How many friends hurt?

Masonry Redux: Do you suggest I kill him like a rabid dog?

Keen Stronghold: Drugs?! That was what got him into all of this to begin with.

Masonry Redux: And shock therapy.

Keen Stronghold: ... does he even believe in God?

Masonry Redux: No.

Keen Stronghold: ::mutters:: Not that it means anything.

Masonry Redux: Your will, the love for your wife is what brought you out of it.

Keen Stronghold: I'm not fond of shock therapy. It looks like a last resort.

Masonry Redux: Do you think I enjoy it?

Masonry Redux: I try to hide but I can't fully...

Masonry Redux: Some Kheldians have died under this.

Keen Stronghold: What's your task as a Peacebringer, regarding your host?

Masonry Redux: Mostly Nictus, but still...

Masonry Redux: I am to protect him, save his life, and to guide him.

Masonry Redux: I cannot and will not "drive" him forever.

Keen Stronghold: ... sorry, I am blaming you again.

Keen Stronghold: But one can deny guiding, and Masonry does it rather well.

Masonry Redux: ::gently:: If it will make you feel better.

Masonry Redux: Yes, he can.

Masonry Redux: By force if necessary.

Keen Stronghold: Force hasn't been working on him.

Keen Stronghold: You can tell.

Masonry Redux: ((Oh, sorry, misunderstood that other sentence))

Masonry Redux: Then what do you suggest?

Masonry Redux: Please be honest, Hisagi. ::quietly:: I think I know the answer.

Keen Stronghold: Removal from society. At the very least.

Keen Stronghold: But that's me.

Masonry Redux: You believe he is irredeemable.

[Broadcast]Lord Valentine: LF Positron TF

Keen Stronghold: ::dispassionately:: Correct.

Masonry Redux: And the removal of the anger could kill him.

Keen Stronghold: I don't think he'd get to that stage.

Keen Stronghold: I don't see it being "extracted." He'd just... take it for himself.

Keen Stronghold: And use it for his own willing.

Masonry Redux weaves back and forth, agitated.

Keen Stronghold: And *that* I won't let happen.

Keen Stronghold: He'd not... hesitate to kill anyone on his way.

Masonry Redux: I know.

Masonry Redux: I know too well.

Keen Stronghold: Do you think *we* can take that risk?

Keen Stronghold: Who would he kill?

Masonry Redux: You don't want to know.

Keen Stronghold clenches his teeth.

Masonry Redux: Anyone.

Masonry Redux: You, me if he could.

Keen Stronghold: I can't let this happen. I was hoping to count on you, too. But now I'm not really sure.

Masonry Redux: I guide, Hisagi.

Masonry Redux: I make suggestions.

Masonry Redux: And heal the body when it is hurt, and heal others if they are hurt.

Masonry Redux: I cannot tear him out. We've tried that.

Masonry Redux: The fury makes him strong.

Keen Stronghold: And enhancing it is *not* an option.

Masonry Redux: No.

Masonry Redux: He finds his own excuses.

Keen Stronghold: I know.

Masonry Redux: Then, Hisagi, I am sorry I have taken so much of your time.

Keen Stronghold: No problem, I guess.

Masonry Redux: But something controls you, and I wish to see it.

Keen Stronghold: I'm afraid you won't.

Masonry Redux: I wish to help you.

Keen Stronghold: It doesn't concern you.

Masonry Redux: You are a stubborn man.

Keen Stronghold: ::grins:: No kidding.

Keen Stronghold: Take care.

Masonry Redux: Sayonara.

Keen Stronghold: ((Jack will meet someone else. Or rather, feel his presence.))

(breaks are so it's a little easier on the eye)

:: [Tell]Operative Pill: (comm-unit rings)
:: [Tell]-->Operative Pill: Hello?
:: [Tell]Operative Pill: Hello, Idaho. (smiles) How are you, child?
:: [Tell]-->Operative Pill: Hi, Pill! Okay, how are you?
:: [Tell]Operative Pill: I'm well, very well. I was wondering if you might be free for dinner tonight.
:: [Tell]-->Operative Pill: Dinner? Sure! Where?
:: [Tell]Operative Pill: Do you know Perez Park? Come there. I'll send you a beacon to the longhouse.
:: [Tell]-->Operative Pill: All right.
:: Idaho: I'm sorry, that base is a maze.
:: Operative Pill: It's alright, child. The salmon isn't ready yet, anyway. You do like salmon, I hope.
:: Idaho: I don't know.
: Operative Pill: (smiles) Of course you don't. I'm sorry. We'll find out, won't we.
: Idaho: Oh, hello!
: Operative Pill: (smiles) Thank you, child. Wretched little creatures, those.
: Idaho: You look outfitted for hunting.
:: Operative Pill: Hm? (looks down and smiles) Not at all, dear. This is as close to formalwear as my people would get.
:: Idaho tilts his head.
:: Idaho: Formal?
:: Idaho: ::looks down::
:: Operative Pill: (laughs, slightly) You're delightful, don't worry. You'd have been very overdressed in a suit.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Idaho: Okay, then.
:: Operative Pill: Have a seat, I'm just finishing up the potlach.
:: Idaho: Potluck? Isn't that... a whole bunch of food everyone brings?
:: Idaho sniffs.
:: Operative Pill: (goes over to a small cedarwood cairn, poking at it.) Hm. Potlach, child. LACH. It's similar, really. But not the same.
:: Operative Pill: Most of what's left of the ceremonies is this--salmon, fire-cooked over a cedar plank to sear in the scents of wood and the light smoking.
:: Idaho: Cooking is a ceremony?
:: Operative Pill pulls out what appears to be a miniature salmon coffin, eyeing it critically.
:: Operative Pill: Part of one, yes. (looks back, smiling) Really, it was an excuse to join together, get drunk, and give lavish gifts to each other.
:: Operative Pill: But those days are long gone, sadly.
:: Operative Pill sets the salmon down, brushing her hands slightly.

:: Idaho: What tribe did you say you were from?
:: Idaho: Or did you..?
:: Operative Pill: I didn't. (smiles) But it's no secret, really. We were one of the great peoples of the pacific northwest of this country and canada.
:: Idaho: Oh...That's a long stretch of country.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) Yes, but there were many tribes.
:: Idaho: You must have lived on the coast, if you went whaling.
: Operative Pill: Mn. (smiles) Are you ready for a tongue-twister, child?
-- : Idaho: Other than your name?
: Idaho smiles.
: Operative Pill: Even worse, dear. (smiles) My people were--still are--the Nuu-chah-Nulth.
: Idaho: Nucha-Nulth. Yeah, that's hard.
: Idaho: What's it mean?
: Operative Pill: (smiles) Close enough, yes. What does it mean? (blinks)
:: Idaho: Nevermind, it must mean something like "The People" like other tribes.
:: Idaho: Do you have a reservation and everything?
: Operative Pill: Not at all. It's just been a very long time since I had to think of it. (smiles, quietly) Very long. It means, "to come around". As in, to come around Vancouver Island.
: Operative Pill: And I suppose perhaps we still do. I haven't been welcome there in a very long time.
: Idaho: Because of your job?
: Operative Pill pulls several stakes out of the salmon and slides it onto a plate. "Among other things, yes."
: Operative Pill: Here we go. (sets it in front of Idaho and pulls out a small knife for him)
: Idaho looks down.
: Idaho: It's got eyes.
: Operative Pill: You don't have to eat those, dear. (smiles) Take the flesh from the body, that's where the best meat is.
: Idaho takes the knife and pokes gingerly at it.
: Operative Pill: Watch for small bones, though.
: Idaho tilts his head examining it.
: Operative Pill: (is trying hard to stifle a big smile. Not completely successfully)
: Idaho: It doesn't look like the salmon I see at the store.
: Idaho lifts the skin with the point of the knife.

: Operative Pill: Would you like a beer with that? Or water? (smiles) What you get at the store has been cut into chunks already. This is very fresh.
: Idaho: What's supposed to go with it? I mean, what would your people drink with it?
: Idaho gently takes out bits of flesh with the knife.
: Operative Pill: These days, probably a light chardonnay. (smiles) But when I was a child, it was beer. Dark, and warm.
: Idaho: Warm beer?!
:: Operative Pill cackles slightly. "Refrigerators weren't common among the Nuu-chah-Nulth, child."
:: Idaho tastes the fish, then eats some.
:: Operative Pill pulls out a side basket of bread, wild mushrooms, and asparagus.
:: Idaho: Hey, this ain't bad.
:: Idaho: I mean... I mean, it's really good.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles)
:: Idaho spits out a bone.
:: Idaho: 'cept for that.
:: Operative Pill: Yes, don't swallow those.
:: Idaho: Can I have a piece of bread?
: Operative Pill pulls out a small knife and cuts off a small piece of salmon, chewing it slowly. "Help yourself, please."
: Idaho takes a piece.

: Idaho: How did you get started working for where you are?
: Operative Pill: Ah, right. Beer? Or water? (smiles) I always was a poor hostess.
: Idaho: I'll try the warm beer.
: Operative Pill: Good. (smiles) I can't get you drunk on water. (cackles)
: Operative Pill: One moment.
: Idaho: You're not a poor hostess at all. This is really good. - Drunk?
: Operative Pill hands Idaho a beer. Warm.
: Operative Pill: It's a joke, child. Maybe.
:: Idaho takes it.
:: Idaho sips it. "Tastes like twigs."
:: Operative Pill pops the cap off of her own beer and takes a healthy swallow.
:: Operative Pill: It's supposed to be horrid. It makes the salmon taste better. (cackles again)
:: Idaho laughs.
:: Operative Pill looks up at the tree and smiles. "So. How are you coming along, child?"
:: Idaho: So how did you end up here? Away from your tribe.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Operative Pill: (gentle smile) You first. I'm not drunk enough for that.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Idaho: I didn't think it would be that easy.
:: Idaho: I'm doing okay. That girl Raven, though, I can't get her out of my head.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) That might be a good thing, yes?
:: Idaho: And I did work with someone else named Twilight Umbra, and she was cute, but she didn't kiss me.
:: Idaho shakes his head.
:: Idaho: Something's wrong with her.
:: Operative Pill: Yes. (simply) She's badly broken. I don't know how, not yet.
:: Operative Pill picks out a mushroom and chews on it thoughtfully.

:: Idaho: Can she be fixed?
:: Idaho studies the asparagus, sipping the beer.
:: Operative Pill: I think the biggest problem is whether she wants to be fixed, child. But someone has hurt her very badly, to make her so angry and so cruel.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) You just bite into it. The base can be a little woody, but I cut that off for you already.
:: Idaho: Oh, that's how.
:: Idaho: I didn't know if I had to take those little things off or...I haven't had this yet with Darce.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) I'll warn you before you bite into the things that I laced with broken glass, child.
:: Idaho: I appreciate that. ::laughs::
:: Operative Pill: (smiles slightly)
:: Idaho: I met some more people that know my original.
:: Operative Pill: Oh? And how did they rate you, compared to your first twin?
:: Idaho fishes out more fish.
:: Idaho: I didn't ask.
:: Operative Pill: Mn. (draws from her beer again)
:: Idaho: I wanted them to tell me about him. But one said he obfus..obsu... obsomething stuff.
: Operative Pill: Ohsomething stuff? (tilts her head)
: Operative Pill: Obfuscate?
: Idaho: That's it.
: Idaho: She used lots of big words that I had no idea half of what she was saying.
: Idaho: It had to do with "conditioning". Her hair looked fine.
: Operative Pill: (cackles) Some people do that. They like to use big words to make up for their little brains.
: Operative Pill takes another piece of salmon.
: Idaho: Oh, maybe that's it. She had elf ears, though, and was really self-conscious about it.
: Operative Pill chews quietly on a fishbone.
:: Idaho: Self-conscious, right?
:: Operative Pill: I imagine so, once a gentle Teddy Bear asked her why her ears were so long. (smiles) You did, yes?
:: Idaho: Yeah. She got a little upset.
:: Idaho: Threatened to pull my heart out of my chest.
:: Operative Pill: ... (laughs) That's a little upset, yes.
:: Operative Pill: Oh, my, yes.
:: Idaho: I don't know about her, she scares me too.
:: Idaho: Lots of women around here are scary.
:: Operative Pill: Yes, you're surrounded by dangerous women, child. (cackles) Best give up now.
:: Idaho: Are you serious?
: Operative Pill: Mn. (slowly) Sort of. You ARE surrounded by dangerous women.

: Idaho: Though I can't think of even... I can't even think of having a relationship.
: Idaho: They're really good fighters. And hunters. ::grins sideways at her::
: Operative Pill: Well, you don't need to marry someone and have children a month after your birth, child. (smiles) And yes, I, too, am dangerous.
:: Idaho: Not to me.
:: Idaho swishes the beer around in the bottle.
:: Operative Pill: No. Not to you. You will always be safe with me, Idaho.
:: Idaho smiles and blushes.
:: Operative Pill looks out onto the lake, squinting briefly.
:: Idaho: But..?
:: Operative Pill: (simply) No but. Always.
:: Idaho: You're thinking about something, though.
:: Operative Pill: Mn. (glances at him) I was thinking that your father was not very responsible.
:: Idaho: For sending me out here?
:: Idaho motions with his arm.
:: Operative Pill: For bringing you into the world without giving you the experience and lessons to help you along the way.
:: Idaho: Out into all this? I guess he figured I can take care of myself somehow.
:: Operative Pill: And you will survive, I've no doubt. You're very fierce, very tough.
:: Idaho: I don't think he meant for the fire to happen.
: Operative Pill: Then that was the gods, laughing at him.
: Operative Pill: They do like to laugh. (quietly)
: Idaho: No, he thinks that there was some remnants of something in the vat he bought.
: Operative Pill: (cackles) Of course he does, child.
: Idaho: He can't tell the Phalanx that...then he'd get in real trouble.
: Operative Pill chews slowly on an asparagus stalk.

: Idaho: What gods?
: Operative Pill: I don't know. (shrugs) I never bothered with the gods of this area. They're too weak.
:: Idaho: You must have known about them when you were a child.
:: Idaho: If you can remember how to make this... ::motions to the dinner::
:: Operative Pill: Ah, those were the gods of my people, not of this area. (smiles)
:: Idaho: There's gods in different places?
:: Operative Pill: Oh, my, yes. (looks at him) Ask people here about Jaguar, they know nothing. Ask the Africans of Thunderbird, they know nothing. Many gods. Different gods.
:: Idaho: I know some people fight over them.
:: Idaho: I don't know why, though.
:: Operative Pill: Bah. (scoffs) They fight over the same god. Silly white men and their fickle god.
:: Idaho: Darcy tried to explain to me the difference between Christians and Muslims and I just got confused.
:: Operative Pill: Yes, it's very simple.
:: Operative Pill: They just don't say so.
:: Idaho: I kinda think that whatever's in your heart is right.
:: Operative Pill: Both sides worship the same god, a petty and jealous fellow with a long beard.
:: Idaho: Oh, yeah, I saw pictures.
:: Idaho: And a tree with an apple and a serpent...
:: Operative Pill: And each thinks that they are the favorite sons of this god, who as far as I can tell, doesn't like either.
:: Operative Pill glances at him and smiles.
:: Operative Pill: And a woman, let's not forget her.
:: Idaho nods.
:: Idaho: Though she fell for it. I bet he would have fallen for it, too.
:: Operative Pill: I've heard otherwise. (smiles) Always from men. (cackles)
:: Idaho chuckles.
:: Idaho: Guess I'm not manly enough.
:: Operative Pill: I think you'll have to ask your woman that, when you have one.
:: Operative Pill finishes her beer and leans back, smiling
:: Idaho: I'm in no hurry.
:: Idaho is still picking out bones.
:: Operative Pill: Indeed. You have time. There's no reason to bond with the first woman who bats her eyes at you, Idaho.
:: Idaho nods.
:: Idaho: I got other stuff to do.

: Operative Pill: ... "Other stuff"... (looks at him) Really?
: Idaho: Yeah...
: Idaho: I need to find Circle of Thorns because they have something to do with some cataclysmic event.
: Idaho: ::airquotes::
: Idaho: Whatever "cataclysmic event" means.
: Operative Pill: ... (cackles) Ah, yes. No time for the snake to find a cave, there is a world to restore.
: Idaho laughs.
: Operative Pill: It means, very very very bad.
:: Idaho: Oh, I'm sure there's time in between.
:: Idaho: Servant doesn't seem to be in all that of a hurry.
:: Operative Pill: There ofter is, yes. Hm? Servant?
:: Idaho: I think it's because he's afraid.
:: Idaho nods.
:: Idaho: His name's Servant-, that's what I know him as.
:: Operative Pill: Wait. (concerned) Who is this?
:: Idaho: There's something called "the Twelve" and--
:: Idaho: He's the leader of the group I'm in, the Paladins.
:: Idaho: He asked me to join up and I figured why not.
:: Operative Pill: Oh. (relaxing slightly) Your employer.
:: Idaho: I guess you could say that.
:: Idaho tilts his head.
:: Idaho: Well, he did pay me last night, now that I think about it.
:: Idaho: I would do it just to help him.
:: Idaho: He seems like an okay guy, but I think he's bothered by something.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) That's what employers do. (tilts her head, sighing)
:: Idaho: Why, you think you might know him?
:: Operative Pill: Bothered? Many people in a position like that have difficult choices to make. Difficult choices.
:: Operative Pill: And no, I don't. I was just thinking about you.

:: Idaho: I'm okay...
:: Operative Pill: You and your gentle, giant heart. (shakes her head slightly) You are, yes. I hope you will remain so.
:: Idaho: The scribe didn't even mention me.
:: Operative Pill: The... scribe? (has her full attention now) What is going on, Idaho.
:: Idaho: Oh....um...
:: Operative Pill: ... (gently) Is it a secret? I understand.
:: Idaho: Well Servant- found a book on a Thorn and brought it back.
:: Idaho: No, no...
:: Idaho: He studied it and it had a list of names.
:: Operative Pill nods.
:: Idaho: Some of the names he touched, they glowed.
:: Idaho: His name was in it, and so was mine - er, my original's.
:: Operative Pill: ... (slowly thinking) And this Servant-. He--is one of ? A good copy, like yourself?
:: Idaho: It was written by Doyst.. Doyses... some Russian guy - and he was keeping records...
:: Idaho: Yes, he's one of the Twelve, he thinks.
:: Idaho: The names that glow are potential candidates of being the Twelve.
: Idaho: Thing is, these twelve exist, "for good or ill" ::airquotes::
: Idaho: So I told him that he just needed to follow what his heart said.
: Operative Pill: (smiles) And what did he say to that?
: Idaho: He didn't look very comfortable.
: Operative Pill: No, one's heart often takes one to uncomfortable places, yes.
: Idaho: He doesn't know if what his heart says is right, I think.
:: Operative Pill: Yes, I can understand. Sometimes the heart is like Coyote. Tricky, and wily.
:: Operative Pill: It knows the truth, but it does not tell it to you directly. At times.
:: Idaho: But we found Doy--Dys - the Russian guy, and but he escaped. Before that though he picked out each member of the team and told them something that would happen to them.
:: Idaho: Except me.
:: Operative Pill: ... (concerned again) Not you? Why not?
:: Idaho: I don't know.
:: Idaho: I didn't ask anyone, I figured he just didn't see me - though I was standing right against the wall...
:: Idaho: Right in his line of sight.
:: Operative Pill: ...
:: Idaho: What?
:: Operative Pill: Perhaps it is hard, to see a good copy with the Second Sight. (musing slowly) Or perhaps he had nothing to warn you about.

:: Idaho: That's good, right?
:: Idaho: If nobody can see me or my future.
:: Operative Pill: Perhaps. Perhaps he saw that you had no future, which would not be good.
:: Operative Pill: Or perhaps he ignored you because he was jealous of your biceps. (sighs) Time will tell.
:: Idaho looks at the now empty bottle of beer.
:: Idaho smiles a little.
:: Operative Pill watches the sunset, smiling.
:: Idaho sets down the remains of his dinner.
:: Idaho: This was really good.
:: Idaho takes a mushroom out of the basket.
:: Idaho: My compliments to the chef.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) Yes, it was. It is nice, to be a person as well as a hunter. Once in a while, anyway. (smiles)
:: Operative Pill: Take the rest, Idaho. It's too much for one small old crone.
:: Idaho: But that's what you are, a person...
:: Idaho: A person first.
:: Operative Pill: ... (smiles quietly) Yes, you're right. You're very wise, for someone so naive.
:: Idaho: Nah.
:: Idaho: I don't know a lot.
: Operative Pill: Knowing isn't wisdom.
: Operative Pill: Wisdom is understanding.
: Idaho: I don't understand a lot, either.
: Idaho: It comes with time, though.
: Operative Pill: (laughs) Yes, I'm sorry to say that it does, yes.
: Idaho smiles.
: Operative Pill starts collecting the dishes.
: Idaho: Let me help.
: Operative Pill: Down to the water, it'll wash easily.
:: Idaho: Did you do this too when you were a kid?
:: Operative Pill starts washing dishes in the water, glancing at the Hydra.
:: Operative Pill: Mn. My Father would never be seen doing something so mundane.
:: Operative Pill: He had loftier matters to attend to.
:: Idaho: Like what?

:: Idaho is looking at the dishes but listening intently.
: Operative Pill: He was a leader of our people. He would have to keep the hunters, and the shamans, and the warriors, from killing each other.
: Operative Pill: He was very good at it.
: Idaho: Oh, a mediator?
: Idaho: I think that's what it's called...
: Operative Pill: A chief is always a mediator, Idaho. The good ones, anyway.
: Idaho looks sideways at her.
: Idaho: You were a chief's daughter?
: Operative Pill: The last time I checked, I still am. (smiles)
: Idaho: You were - am, right... are... sorry.
: Operative Pill dries a plate with the hem of her dress.
: Idaho: Is this fireproof?
: Idaho holds up the plate.
: Operative Pill: (laughs) No. Don't burn up my dishes, please.
: Idaho: It would dry faster.
: Operative Pill: They'll be dry by morning. I'm patient.
: Idaho stacks them next to him.
: Operative Pill: (smiles quietly) You will be too, in time. You're young, still.
: Idaho: So you can go back, then.
: Idaho laughs.
: Operative Pill: ... (smiles gently) No, Idaho. I thought that perhaps I could, perhaps forty years ago.
: Idaho: But why not now?
: Operative Pill: Because I tried, back then. (smiles, standing) And I was wrong.
:: Operative Pill collects the dishes.
:: Idaho: Let me get that.

:: Operative Pill: (stands aside) Such a young gentleman.
:: Idaho cradles the dishes in his arms.
:: Idaho: I guess it's supposed to be this way, right?
:: Idaho: Why shouldn't I help?
:: Operative Pill: Because dishes, child, are women's work. Like listening to the snake, and biting the apple, yes?
:: Operative Pill: But you may feel free to free me from oppression. (smiles) I don't like dishes, truth be told.
: Idaho: It should be shared.
: Idaho: I don't care much for dishes either. Darcy's got a dishwasher.
: Operative Pill: (cackles) He'll regret THAT.
: Operative Pill: (opens a small locker and places the dishes inside.)
: Operative Pill: Just don't expect me to share shoveling snow. (smiles) I have fire arrows for that.
: Idaho: Oh, even better...
:: Idaho: Just walk through.
:: Operative Pill: (cackles) Yes, you will save your household on heating costs, mn.
:: Idaho: Though it's getting harder to keep the fire going...
:: Operative Pill: It is? (blinks)
:: Idaho: This is what I am naturally.
:: Operative Pill: (gently) Watch the leaves, Idaho.
:: Operative Pill: Thank you.
:: Idaho: I have to concentrate to keep it down.
:: Operative Pill: (impishly) That is the curse of being so very hot, yes.
:: Idaho laughs.
:: Idaho: Is not!
:: Idaho: When I have to make it even hotter, though, that's where it's tough.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles, fanning herself idly with her hand) Yes, you don't need to tell ME that.
:: Idaho: All you need to do is put new arrow tips.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Operative Pill: They're expensive, child. (smiles) That's why I work for the government.
:: Operative Pill: They can buy them. I'll enjoy using them.
:: Idaho: What do I do, Pill, that... how come... I'm not *that* good-looking...
:: Operative Pill: Hm? (looks at him) That makes women swoon for you?
:: Idaho: There's lots of other heroes that're better than me.
:: Idaho: Yeah, that.
:: Operative Pill: There's lots of heroes that are stronger, perhaps.
:: Operative Pill: But it's very simple Idaho. And there are two answers. The easy one, you get for free.

:: Idaho: Okay.
:: Operative Pill: They swoon, because they can see that you CARE. People who care--are not common.
:: Idaho tilts his head confusedly.
:: Idaho: But we're heroes.
:: Idaho: It's what we do.
:: Operative Pill: "Hero" is a name, Idaho. Names can be accurate, or they can be false, or--like yours--they can be tricky.
:: Idaho: It's something I should try to be, though.
:: Operative Pill: Yes, you should. (smiles) And you're very good at it, too.
:: Idaho: And you too, or you wouldn't be doing this.
: Operative Pill: ... (blinks, then starts laughing)
: Idaho: What's so funny?
: Operative Pill: Oh, child. No. Pill is no heroine. No, no, no.
: Idaho: We save people and we protect banks and we do stuff like that and--why not?
: Operative Pill: I enjoy fine things, and good hunting, and if I may save people along the way, then so much the better.
: Idaho blinks.
: Operative Pill: But make no mistake. I am huntress first, child, and hero second.
: Idaho smiles a little.
:: Idaho: No, huntress first, a person second. A hero if it's on the way.
:: Operative Pill cackles.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Operative Pill: You see? You're going to make me swoon.
:: Idaho laughs.

:: Idaho: So what's the second answer and what do I need to do to pay for it?
:: Operative Pill: (sighs gently) I'm going to skip the first several things that come to mind as payment, and ask for this, instead:
:: Operative Pill: When I tell it to you, you will keep firmly in mind that you hear from an old woman who has seen--too many things, really. Too, too many.
:: Idaho: If you understand them, you have wisdom.
:: Idaho: That's good, right?
: Operative Pill: (gently) Not always, child.
: Operative Pill: Sometimes, you understand so much that you stop understanding the things that matter most.
: Operative Pill: BUT.
: Operative Pill: We were talking about you, and women. A MOST important topic.
:: Idaho: Okay, okay.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Operative Pill: Do you know that many men, they prefer to be with women who--have not yet been entered by the snake?
:: Idaho: I don't know what the difference is, but yeah.
:: Operative Pill: The difference is that--if a man is very worried that his snake is weak, the woman will know it if she has had a stronger and better snake. (scoffs)
:: Idaho looks thoughtful.
:: Operative Pill: So he wants a cave for his snake that doesn't know any better.
:: Idaho: Oh, nothing to compare it to.
:: Operative Pill: Exactly. There are some women who are the same way. About hearts, rather than about caves and snakes.
:: Operative Pill: They want a heart that does not know what it deserves, so that they can decide for it what it should have.
:: Idaho: And I know men need to be a certain size or something.
:: Operative Pill: ... What?! (cackles wildly)
:: Idaho nods.
:: Operative Pill: Who told you that?
:: Idaho: I saw it on TV.
: Idaho: And I guess it needs to stay up for a long time.
: Operative Pill: (scoffs)
: Idaho: But not more than four hours.
: Operative Pill: Child, stop. Stop! This will take more time to explain than I have, unless you are going to stay here tonight.
: Operative Pill: And we would both regret that in the morning.
: Idaho smiles gently.
: Operative Pill: Suffice it to say. It is FAR more important how the snake coils than how large it is.
: Operative Pill: And it will stay up for twenty minutes, perhaps, or less, or more.
: Idaho: I... haven't timed it. ::blushes::
:: Operative Pill: And there are many, many things to do before the snake spits its medicine, and after it is spent. (smiles)
:: Operative Pill: And don't trust your TV. It is a very poor god.
:: Idaho: That's what Derick said.
:: Operative Pill: And he was right.

:: Idaho: How do I find out about stuff in the world, especially fast?
:: Operative Pill: ... Can you read?
:: Idaho nods.
:: Idaho: And work a computer. Darce showed me.
:: Operative Pill: Alright, then. I have a book for you. One moment.
:: Operative Pill: Come here, child. (triumphantly)
:: Operative Pill: This is for you. (hands him a copy of the 1958 edition of Ann Landers' Guide to Life for Young People.)
:: Idaho opens the cover.
:: Idaho: Who's this Ann Landers?
:: Idaho: And this is old.
:: Operative Pill: A woman with a mouth as wide as the ocean. (smiles) And it IS old.
:: Idaho: Is the stuff in here still good?
:: Operative Pill: Well, you tell me. Are there still women and men?
:: Idaho: Yes.
:: Idaho: It's all in here?
:: Operative Pill: Do men still wish to rut? Even when there are other things to worry about?
:: Idaho: I...guess.
:: Operative Pill: And do women still want to rut with them, when they know they shouldn't?
:: Idaho: I guess so, too.
:: Operative Pill: (triumphantly) Then I suppose it's still good, what's in there.
:: Operative Pill: (cackles) You had me worried for a moment.
:: Idaho tucks it in his coat.
:: Idaho: Is there a test on it? ::winks and blushes::
:: Operative Pill: (laughs) Not from me, no. But you may find the truth about handling your snake to be quite a relief. She was exceptionally honest, for years ago. (impish again)
:: Idaho: Okay.
: Operative Pill: Read it. (nods)
: Operative Pill: And Idaho?
: Idaho: I'll get it back to you in a couple of days.
: Idaho: Yeah?
: Operative Pill: (quietly) I meant what I said to you. This place will always be a place of safety for you, while Pill is still alive.
: Operative Pill: Always. You understand? If you need a safe place, you come here.
: Idaho nods.
: Idaho: I understand.
: Idaho: I wish I could do the same for you. I don't have anyplace.
:: Idaho: But I can protect you with this...
:: Operative Pill: Good. (smiles) Idaho, you've done more good for me than you know.
:: Idaho points to his chest.
:: Idaho: It's all I have.
:: Operative Pill: ... (quietly smiles) Thank you, young man. I will treasure that.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Operative Pill: (drily) I may need to run my hands over it once in a while, to make sure I still believe it. (half-wink)
:: Idaho: I'm glad I made you happy. - ::grins::
:: Idaho thrusts out his chest.
:: Idaho inclines his head.
:: Idaho: G'head.
:: Operative Pill: ... (laughs) No, no. Don't tempt the old crone, Idaho. I've been doing very well, not taking advantage of you.
:: Operative Pill pats his chest maternally.
:: Idaho smiles.
:: Idaho: Good enough.
:: Operative Pill: Let me continue to be proud of myself, eh?
:: Idaho: You know, that Sapphire Knight...
:: Idaho: Maybe the two of you...
:: Operative Pill: Mn. What about him?
:: Idaho intertwines his fingers.
:: Operative Pill: ... (laughs) He's too young, too, child.
:: Idaho: Oh, but I bet he's got a lot in him.
:: Idaho: And he's probably lonely.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) I would not cure him of that, child.
:: Idaho: Okay, so matchmaking is out as a side job...
:: Operative Pill: (laughs quietly) Perhaps not. I am a difficult woman to match with, just ask my husband.
:: Idaho: I think if I asked him he'd punch me or something.
:: Operative Pill: Unlikely. (smiles, slightly rueful this time) He has been dead for some time.
:: Idaho: Ah..uh - but you talk about him like he's still around.
:: Operative Pill: He is. (smiles again) And my father. And I will be too, when I have left this body and rejoined with them.
:: Idaho: I...I don't get it.
:: Operative Pill: (smiles) Look around you, Idaho. Everywhere you look, there is life, and there is death.
:: Idaho nods.
: Operative Pill: (motions to the pier) Those are trees. But dead.
: Operative Pill: Leaves, but dead. (at his feet)
: Operative Pill: (pats her belly) Fish, but dead. (smiles)
: Idaho: And really good fish, too!
: Operative Pill: (smiles) Perhaps better to us, dead, than to the minnow, alive. You see?
: Operative Pill: You do not-- (stops, surprised)

: Operative Pill glances at Raven and smiles.
: Idaho: Huh?
: Idaho: Uh...oh.
: Idaho: Hi.
: Operative Pill: Hello, Broken Child.
: Idaho: Hi.
:: Street Raven: yo
:: Street Raven: ho
:: [Tell]Operative Pill: I think you have a stalker, child. (cackles lightly)
:: Street Raven: ho
:: Street Raven has joined the team
:: [Tell]-->Operative Pill: That's not good.
:: Operative Pill: How are you, dear?
:: [Tell]Operative Pill: Perhaps not. It's hard to say.
:: Idaho: How... how have you been?
:: Street Raven: shhhh... be vewy vewy qwiiet, I'm hunting wabbits... heh
:: Idaho: They're that way.
:: Idaho: points East.
:: Operative Pill: They're awfully easy to hunt. (smiles) You should aim for something more challenging.
:: Street Raven: heh
:: Idaho: ::hisses:: Don't!
:: Operative Pill glances at Idaho and smiles quietly.

:: Idaho: So... you need anything? Or can I help with anything?
:: Street Raven: Just what is help anyway?
:: Idaho looks confusedly at her.
:: Operative Pill: It's that thing that you do, to make someone else's life better.
:: Street Raven looks at Pill
:: Operative Pill: Perhaps it's been too long since you've thought of it? But at some point, you must've.
:: Street Raven: a trite answer, and untrue
:: Operative Pill: Ah. Correct a foolish old woman, then.
:: Street Raven: platitudes to hide meaning
:: Street Raven: beatitudes to self worth
:: Idaho: So what's wrong with that?
:: Operative Pill: As opposed to attitudes to self destruction.
:: Idaho: What's wrong with making yourself feel better and making another person feel better?
:: Street Raven: my my such language
: Street Raven: :: laughs wildly ::
: Operative Pill 's eye narrows slightly.
: Operative Pill: Child, you are unwell. Come, let me help you.
: Street Raven: certain pathways are paved with such, and I see many many roads all parallel
: Street Raven: :: Laughs again ::
: Street Raven: why oh why do you assume it is I who must fly, and be the one with the bug that needs a mother ly hug?
: Operative Pill: ... (smiles, a very different kind of smile)
: Operative Pill: You are no Coyote, child. You are all tricks, but there is no joy in it.

Idaho: She's right.
Street Raven: Coyotes run around, on the ground and their tricks are just the chasing of sticks, and into thorns that prick
Street Raven: :: laughs ::
Idaho: Listen...you sure you're okay?
Operative Pill: (gently) Of course she isn't, Idaho. Step back, please. She's heavy with Shadows, I think.
Idaho: We do want to help.
Idaho: Shadows?
Street Raven: oh the places you'll go when the innocence is lost as the requisite cost
Operative Pill: The tricksters who seek to destroy, rather than enlighten.
Street Raven: truth always shows free, though those who speak it decide waht it should be
Idaho: Do you like to destroy things?
Idaho: Because if you do, it's like death...
Operative Pill: Idaho. She may not control her own mind, be gentle.
Operative Pill: You know your spirit. Let it guide you.
Street Raven: to toy is not to detroy, little boy
Idaho: Death is part of life, so is destruction.
Operative Pill: ...
: Operative Pill: Be very careful with her, Idaho.
: Idaho: But she's hurting.
: Operative Pill: Yes, and we must do what we can.
: Street Raven: Do your eyes deceive you, or is the deception the deception?

: Operative Pill: But there are many ways to lose your innocence. And the worst of them have nothing to do with snakes and caves.
: Idaho: How can we help someone if they don't want to be helped?
: Operative Pill: No.
: Street Raven has quit the team
: Operative Pill: Very slowly, very firmly, and very--very--carefully. Do not lower your guard.
Idaho: I don't want to be the one to hurt her more, either, though.
Operative Pill sighs. "I wish I'd paid more attention to our shamans."
Operative Pill: No, you're right. First things, first. You know the shamans of your own people, yes?
Idaho: I can go read up about it - yeah.
Operative Pill: Perhaps if we can catch her, they can see what there is to see.
Operative Pill: She is either mad, like a rabid dog, or possessed.
: Idaho: Rabid dogs are put to sleep.
: Operative Pill: Rabid people are not, though. (glances at him and smiles)
: Idaho: Oh, well that's good.
: Idaho: How to catch her, though... I can't run up to her and grab her.
: Operative Pill: First things first. If she is mad, she needs medicine. If she is steeped with shadows, she needs magic.
: Operative Pill: We will have to trick the trickster, I suppose. (smiles)
: Idaho: I don't have the smarts for that.
: Operative Pill: No, but you are clearly the bait for the trap. (smiles again)
: Idaho blinks.
: Idaho: Oh... me. Great.
: Idaho: Don't tell me I have to kiss her.
: Operative Pill: (smiles) No. But she must believe that you might.
: Idaho swallows and looks uncomfortable.

: Operative Pill: That will bring her into the net, seeking the destruction of your innocence.
: Idaho: Is that what she's after? But why?
: Idaho: There's plenty of other people out there...
: Operative Pill: I don't know, child. (gently) If she is mad, then she is mad and in love.
: Operative Pill: Idaho, innocence makes women swoon, but it also makes the shadows hungry.
: Idaho: Do I have something missing?
: Idaho: Or something more?
: Operative Pill: ... (smiles) Would you like for me to check for you? (cackles)
: Idaho glances down.
: Idaho: Nope, still there.
: Idaho grins.
: Operative Pill: (more seriously) You have something more, child. Much more. They will never have it, and it drives them mad.
: Operative Pill: They are cold, and cruel, the shadows.
: Idaho: She used them... to wake me up.
Operative Pill: ... Wait. (alertly) Explain yourself.
Idaho: I got hit and went down. She used shadows to...
Idaho: It was like ... oily... ropes.
Idaho: Or snakes.
Operative Pill: (slowly) So, then. It is the darkness, after all. (nods) Alright.
Operative Pill looks out over the lake.
Idaho: But if she used it to get me up, it shouldn't be that bad. They're tamed?
: Operative Pill: Shadows are tricky things, Idaho. They let you believe that you control them, while they strangle you.
: Operative Pill: She is in serious danger--worse, if she does not see it herself.
: Operative Pill looks at him, fiercely.
: Idaho sighs.
: Idaho notes Pill's looking at him.
: Operative Pill: You must consult with your magicians. And we will find a way to trap her, and tame her shadows, before she hurts you, or someone else.
: Idaho: I can do that.
: Operative Pill grins, very much like a lioness might.
: Operative Pill: I know you can.
: Idaho: And if you need me to be bait...
Operative Pill: It is time to hunt, now. And consult with them on that, see if they can keep you safe. If not, there are other baits we can use.
Idaho: Okay.
: Idaho: I'd better head home.
: Operative Pill: (smiles and nods) Yes, you'd better. Thank you for dinner, Idaho.
: Idaho: I'll go down to MAGI in the morning.
: Idaho: But you made dinner for me.
: Operative Pill reaches for his hands, gently.
: Idaho: I should be thanking you.
: Idaho lets her take them.
: Operative Pill: Yes. But you made it worth making. (smiles) So we can thank each other and be done with it, yes?
: Idaho smiles.
: Idaho: Next time, though I'll bring a lavish present like you said.
: Operative Pill: ... (smiles) You brought one already, Idaho. You brought that giant, gentle heart of yours.
: Idaho kisses her gently on the cheek.
: Operative Pill: (smiles, letting him kiss her. Gently) Go on, then. Good night, young man.
: Idaho pats the book in his coat.
: Idaho: Thanks for this. Good night.
: Operative Pill smiles and nods.