Writing

Avery Rackell, deceased, was in a high ranking management position, within the corporatocracy of MOW. He married a co-worker, Tayla Sarez, and had two children, Brianna and Asuka, both daughters, with her. When the children were 5 and 1 Tayla’s parent’s decreed their three children, spouses and various grandchildren should all become freelancers and join the Organisation, an anti-MOW ‘criminal’ organisation. Avery declined the move and tried to convince his wife to do the same. However loyalty to her family overcame loyalty to him and she tried to take both the children with her. In the end Tayla only partly succeeded and left with Brianna, the older of the girls, leaving Asuka in her father’s care.

Asuka was brought up by a wet nurse and a nanny until the age of 8 when her father attained the position he held until his death, and they moved from Devocha, Mars, to London, Earth. She had no knowledge of having a mother or sister until a series of events when she was 25 and she returned to Devocha after her Father’s death a year previous to collect on her inheritance. It was at this time her lawyer revealed their existence, at the late Avery’s request, and the existence of an apartment in New York she was previously unaware of. In the apartment she found a message from her father…

why would he have kept this a secret for so long, and why would he not tell her outright in the message what occurred? Did Avery kill Tayla, either by mistake or design? he would be capable of such an act in the heat of passion. Was he embarrassed at Tayla’s lack of loyalty to him, or her apparent philosophies? In the message Avery points Asuka towards MOW’s archives for explanations, is he afraid someone other than her will find the info and use it against her? Or could he have hidden the truth someplace else if this was the case. Where in the hell does Jarett Tepper, the father of Gurn her business partner, who is apparently a MOW deep cover operative, fit in to this, and how does he know her parents?

This is a short short story, inspired by the keyword ‘camel’.

Sammy stopped and gripped the bars of the animal enclosure.

“Wow Dad! What’s that?”

Sam’s dad sighed and looked at the sign on the pen.

“A camel. Oh Gloria!” he said tiredly, attention switching back to Sammy’s little sister. “No, don’t take of your shoes, I said… Look come here…” But Sammy had stopped listening to his dad and was staring intently at the strange creature in front of him. It sorta looked like a funny horse, but was massive, taller than even his dad, and had pale yellow hair all over. Strangest of all where the two lumps on it’s back. Just then it opened it’s thick lipped mouth at him and made a sound sort of like a honk, and sort of like a bark.

“Wow dad, did you-” Sammy aid turning, but his dad was occupied with his little sister still. They had moved over to a bench, and his dad was sat with the push chair in front of him. Sammy huffed to himself; Gloria was always distracting their dad.

“I really like camels,” came a voice to his side. Sammy looked up to see an man, older than his dad, but younger than his Grandpa stood next to him with an ice cream. “Fantastic creatures, aren’t they?” the man continued. “One saved my life once.” Sammy started at the man. His face was heavily tanned and lined, but his voice was that of an American.

“Wow, really?”

“Yup.” The man licked his ice cream.

“Uh, mister?” Sammy said after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“What’re the lumps on it’s back for? Is it sick?” The man laughed and smiled.

“It’s not sick,” he said with his husky voice. “They’re so it can travel for weeks across the desert without dying.

“Wow,” said Sammy, looking again at the camel. “That’s so cool!”

“Yup.”

“Sammy!” his dad suddenly called. “Come on, we’re going now.” Sammy glanced up at the man.

“That your Dad?” the man asked. Sammy nodded. “Don’t keep him waiting then.”

“Thanks mister!” Sammy said, running over to his dad, hand waving.

“Sure thing kid,” said Indy, waving back.

I loved my Aunt Polly dearly. She was always so eccentric living out in the country, her little cottage always festooned inside and out with bright colours. I loved that she always had the most interesting sweets and jams, the oddest collection of nick-nacks. It seemed a shame now that she had to had to move into a home. My mother told me that she’d had a fall and broke her hip and so she wasn’t spry enough to bound up and down her stairs, or to even walk the small hill to Whitchurch to collect the daily paper.

So here we stood, in her little room at the home. They told me that the cottage was going to be sold to a wealthy Londoner, who would do it up ‘properly’. All the nick-nacks would be gone, sold for a few bob at auction to people we’d never meet. And now here was my Aunt Polly, seeming small and shrunken and sapped of life in this tiny room with it’s white walls, and pale brown bed-stead and white covers, and the pale, pine brown dresser. In fact it seemed the whole room was furnished in sterile white, except for Polly herself. My little Aunt, with her gammy hip, sat in the corner of the room [on a white arm chair] dressed in the most fabulous purple dress, with a bright red hat and orange boa. She flashed me a wicked grin.
“When I am old,” she said, quoting from a famous poem, “I shall wear purple with a red hat which doesn’t go.”

We stood like two strangers on the rain platform. Which, I suppose we were. Never mind that I was his daughter. Never mind that he was my father. We didn’t know each other, and we hadn’t, not for a long time. Not since Mama passed. I looked at him, his greying hair, the corduroy jacket. At one glance even I, a stranger, could tell the academic life suited him. The life of Oxford; stuffy rooms, bulging books and papers, large dinners at long tables, old boys. Especially those large dinners. Under the jacket he wore the same stripy knit jumper his mama, my Grandmama, had made for him. It strained now though to cover his rather ample bely. And what about me? How had I changed to him? A young woman standing on the edge of Platform 2, taking the place of the rebellious teen who thought she knew it all. The old Victorian style canopy does not lend it’s self well to keeping the rain from our heads, but it manages gamely.
“Father,” I greet him.
He takes a swift step forwards. I am unprepared for his embrace.

—-
I think the tense in this changes from past to present, but I’m not sure where exactly…

She awoke suddenly, taken from the dream-state as though a rope had pulled her physically away. She automatically breathed in the cold morning air, a great stuttering breath, but instantly hacked it back up again, the cough sending tremors through her whole being. When she had recovered, the young woman sat up and looked around, clutching at her bed with taut fingers. It was the same as when she had gone to sleep – the desk, the chair, her clothes – all exactly as she had left them. She drew her legs up under herself and rubbed at her face. The feelings of disorientation and change must have been from the dream. The Dream.

In the dim light allowed through her blinds, the woman brushed back long copper curls with her hands, before reaching for the pen and notepad kept by the bed for just such an occasion. The dreams had been getting worse, she was sure. The illness was making them more vibrant, more real and harder to wake from. She was afraid that one day she’d never wake up and be stuck in the horrifying dream-world forever. Opening the book, she found a fresh page and began to write about what she had seen.

[Unfinished]

Two real moments merged to the fictitious

They walked, the lake to one side, in the gathering twilight. The sky was a beautiful riot of purples, blues, reds and oranges as the sun sunk into the water at their left.
“Duck!” he said, needlessly pointing to the gathering of waterfowl. The compulsion to quote was so strong, she didn’t even try to resist.
“Behold the duck. It does not cluck,” she said. “A cluck it lacks; it quacks. It’s especially fond of a puddle or pond. When it dines or sups, it’s bottom’s up.” He stopped and turned to her, green eyes vibrant in the last of the day’s light.
“I love you,” he said, the sentiment warm and sincere. She smiled at him in bemusement.
“Why?”
“Because,” he paused, trying to find the words. “Because you quote poetry like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
“That’s because it is!” she said laughing, and the smile turned from bemusement to endearment.
They embraced and stood as the last sun-rays dipped below the horizon, before walking on.

[NB: In honour of my lover, who suggested the prompt]

Andy stood in the kitchen, pondering. The sun shone down through the small window creating a super heated square of light on the work top in front of him. To anyone observing, the scene would look quite odd. For there, in the centre of the light, Andy had placed a block of cheese. Fortunately for Andy, there was no one to observe, for he was alone in the house and his mother and brother weren’t expected for a while.

Andy, not yet quite 7, stood on a kitchen stool as he pondered his block of cheese. While the reasons of his observation might not be apparent to any said watcher they were crystal clear to the boy. That morning, at 6am before their mother had been awake to tell them off, Andy and his brother, Ian, had watched a cartoon in which a genetically altered block of cheese had, after being heated to super high temperatures, begun to mutate into an evil cheese monster to be controlled by the super villain. Before being taken out by the boys’ mother, Ian had dared Andy to experiment with a block of their own cheese, to see if it would do the same as in the cartoon.

So now Andy was continuing his observation of the cheese, but as yet, it didn’t seem to be doing anything. Well, except maybe melting slightly. He shook his brown curls. It seemed obvious now – the cheese had to be from genetically modified cows for this to work properly. As he picked up the soggy cheese, slipping it back into it’s wrapper and putting it back in the fridge, Andy wondered where he’d be able to get some of that from.

It’s quiet today. And cold. The mist seems to wrap around everything and dampen the sound it makes. Trees stand as dark sentinels to the park. I imagine, as I walk through them, that during the night they’ve been talking, strategizing like military generals, against the coming day. In the pale dawn light, my breath huffs out in clouds of water drops that cling again to my face as I walk forward. Further on now, and those majestic giants are replaced with shrubs and bushes - foot soldiers to the oak general. The mist has collected in their low twigs and drips as my feet tap by on the frozen asphalt.

In that ethereal space that is known as the realm of inspiration and Ideas, the gate opens and the gate keeper dispatches another good idea to some unsuspecting writer, poet, film maker, or journalist. In this case the idea is coming to me, wired directly to my brain. I’m probably dozing in that tween land just before sleep, when it hits me. I’ll think on it, expand it before realising I have a gold mine right there. I’ll toss and turn, think I should get back to sleep but the idea keeps nagging. Eventually I’ll get up, switch on the light, find a pad and pen and note it down before turning the light off and going back to bed.
In the morning, I’ll look at the pad, try to read the scrawl and start to write. I’ll expand and contact the path I’m writing on, until it forms a real thought, a plot.

Behind her the noise escalated into a thunderous roar. Jessy looked to her left to see Phillip running beside her. To her right was chandler, also running. Jessy glanced behind them, at the rushing water, getting ever closer and ever louder. Her mind was filled with only fear and panic and survival. Soon the water would catch them, she thought, the wave would scoop them up, like a giant watery hand, and carry them further into the caverns. The trio skidded around a corner, their cloaks flying out behind them, packs being flung to the side, almost tipping them off balance, weapons belts chinking under the roar of the rushing water. She couldn’t remember where they’d come in, she couldn’t see the ladder they’d used to come down through the celling. What if they’d passed it, what if they couldn’t get out? She looked behind again, to see the tide come around the corner.
“There it is!” cried out Chandler. Jessy turned back. Chandler was pointing ahead of them, and she could also dimly make out the rope ladder swaying slightly. Phillip put a spurt on and was halfway up the ladder before Jessy reached it. She immediately started climbing. She was halfway up when the water hit.
“Hold on,” Phillip screamed at them from safety. Jessy held on tightly, her arms twisted into the ropes of the ladder as the wave beat at her with cold merciless fist of water. She looked down at Chandler, to see him struggling also. He was up to his neck, desperately trying to hold on, and climb higher.
“No! Chandler! Don’t!” Jessy called to him, even though she knew he probably wouldn’t be able to hear. “Don’t climb! You’ll slip!” He looked up at her and grinned, hand reaching for another rung. Whoosh! Another wave hit them and subsided.
“Chandler!” Jessy screamed as he was wrenched away from them. “Chandler!”
“Game Over,” said a loud ominous voice. The water disappeared, and the trio lay panting on the hollodeck floor.
“Jackass,” Phillip said to Chandler, throwing his arm out in an attempt to hit him. “You made us loose again.”
“Sorry,”

After the noise of the street, the silence of the church was deafening, Richard thought. As he stood on the threshold, he considered briefly the chill and that vacuous silence, and how it lent sincerity and sanctity. Richard took a step off the prickly mat and listened to how the hard leather sole rang out against the tiled floor. He took another, and then another until the silence was filled with his ringing footfalls and he was stood before the alter.

He looked up, over the golden chalices and candle stick holders, past the stone depictions of St Paul, St Mary and the others, to the rosary window. He gazed at it, his eye moving along the leadened lines, picking out the detail of each scene. As he gazed, outside the sun came out, sending spots of colour dancing across the floor, the alter steps and Richard. In reverence for the spectacle he knelt, and as he did so, the sun shone brighter, sending the yellow halo of Christ to rest upon Richard’s own brow.

Richard sighed. He’d asked for a sign, and a sign he had received.

I'm really bored. I would like to do some writing, but what on? is the question I can seem to answer. So I'd love for y'all to leave me a comment with an idea for something I could write on. I don't really have any specialized subjects, and I don't even mind what sort of writing you suggest, be it a story or an essay/ article. Just give me something to write on, please?

Charachter one: Nurotic, ill-tempered, has an aversion to having her wrists touched
character two: average hight, plump. Good natured, slightly over freindly, camp [but not gay]

Secret soc.: maxibound
Something to do with 'sliver mountains'

other ideas: Etherial teapots; keyboard implant

Just how to fit all of these together?

So, here we have our intreped band of adventurues... Well, maybe 'intreped' is the wrong word. thinking about it, so is 'advenutres'. Humm. Okay, so we have a band of what? Con-artists, bounty hunters, gamblers and freak shows. That's not quite as impressive is it? Ah well, one works with what they have.
And in this merry band of... well, mistfits I suppose, we have a beautiful, deadly and cynical lady known only as BloodRed; A fine upsatnding gent, called Crace Damar, who enjoys the more sinful things in life; Hunter, one who shoots with a bow despite this technological age, and is very partial to green; A cuircus sideshow freak named Dru black who loaves to play with electricity; and a demonic looking AI calling itself DarkLiquid.

So, here is our cast, now on with the show!
Ah.
And so here we hit a slight snag. With being unable to define this crass congregate of to their exactment, no story can really develop, no excitement or action can ensue and I may as well give up the whole thing right here and now.
But I don't really want to do that. You see, they deserve to have their story told. I'm sure they've all been through so much to get here, it'd be a shame to wast the oppertunity, and they all have such wonderful quirks, I'm just dying to get to know them all better - to hear them talk and laughy, to see them cry, to taste there scents. I'd be like getting to know a whole host of new freinds. Hell even to better know those that these characters are based upon.

So I will not give up on them. I'm cirtain that when the time is right, they will step forward and make their stories known to me. They, hopefully, will give up their tales egarly and verbosly, one by one, or as a group - it matters not. Maybe even in time these tales will begin to write themselves and all I will have to do is capture the words as I channel them.

You know, sometimes I think there ought to be a 'Writers Anonymous'. Like the one for drunks, but for writers. I bet you're wondering why I'm going on about this, well, Hi! My name is Alexis and I'm having a problem writing. Ah, I can see it now;
"And what is your problem, dear?" a 60ish woman would ask me from the front row. Her hair would be white and she's dressed in a turquoise skirt-suit and has a silk scarf of the same colour draped loosely around her neck. I bet she writes soppy romance crap, I would think.
"I can't think of any ideas." I would reply, and embarrassedly glance down at my clasped hands. "At least," I continue. "Not good one's and never through to the end."
"Well, now dear. It's nothing to be ashamed of. We all have some problem or other, or we wouldn't be here!" She would give a little titter and glance round at the others. And I would stand there, my shame and embarasment burning holes in the ground, and I would think, Yeah, thanks a lot lady.

But, of course, there is no Writers Anonymous, and I'm still stuck with my problem. For possibly the hundreth time today I huff in despair and hit my keyboard in discust. My mug's empty I notice, so I rise to make more tea.

'Relax' they'd said, 'Quit stressing so much. Just free your mind!' So I tried, I really did, and what was the net result? A lot of clean laundry, an uber tidy appartment [not a dust mote in sight], one complet cross-stich and a slightly more toned body.
Yeah. It didn't work. Last time I listen to them. Fuckers.

Okay, so this attitude isn't really getting me anywhere, so I sit down again to type the plot for my next assignment:

Amanda Schroeder, a single 20-something German-American, woman, receives a mysterious letter. It asks her to meet the author [the ever elusive 'Anon'] in a local graveyard, as they have something they believe she would be interested in. Intrigued and against her better judgement she goes,
She arrives in the dead of night, to find a man waiting for her-

I erase the whole passage. What the hell was I thinking! What's he going to show her, his dick? Yeah, really clever. Godsdamnit! I put my head in my hands. I'm so close to tears right now it's not true. Why why why can't I think of anything decent? How am I supposed to get rid of this mental block? God, I'm so pathetic.

And again, for what feels like the thousandth time, I give myself a mental slap. I won't get anywhere in this state. I rise to the sound of the kettle boiling, and make tea. The mundane activities of pouring water, adding milk and sugar, and stirring, help bring me back from the edge of despair.

I take my tea out on to the balcony and look out over the world. Wait, that makes me sound rich, like I live in a mansion by the sea or something. Let me re-phrase that. I take my tea out on to the rickety balconette thing and look out over the scummy corner of the world I, and the chavs, call home. Ah! The sweet smell of vomit and aerosol and piss; the heavenly tones of screeching harpies and bad hip-hop; the sultry lines of broken and decaying concrete. I turn back inside. God, what a hell hole.

The computer leers at me as I sit before it once more. I stare at the blank page before me, willing words to come to mind, willing an idea to form itself a plot. Nothing comes. What a fucking surprise. I turn in my chair and flick on the TV, a news channel. Nothing like a good tragedy to get the imagination fired.

By now I expect you're probably thinking: She shouldn't be so cynical of those who gave advice. You're thinking: She is pushing herself to hard. You're thinking: God, what a whiny brat. Well, you are in my head, so you'll just have to put up with the whining. But, the other stuff? Yeah, maybe I am pushing myself, and yeah, it probably is good advice, but... this place is a hell hole, and I want out so much. I've put myself under enormous pressure, I know, but I hate this place. No, wait... I loathe this place, I despise it's inhabitants, I abhor everything about it. Now maybe you understand a little better?

Something on the TV has caught my attention. It's showing a story about a missing little girl. The pictures show a snowy scene; now a graphic of some Eastern European country; the reporter is saying something about a psychic...

I can feel the cogs of my mind casting of the rust of disuse. An idea is starting to blossom like the first daffodil of spring. Brain going full tilt, I turn back to my now cowering machine, and begin to type...

She's been sitting on that bar stool for over half an hour, nursing the same drink too. Well, I've not seen her order another in all the time I've been watching. She really is a sight, you know. A vision in black, save for a scarlet ribbon 'round her neck. I've been studying her for that same over half-hour, and somehow I still ain't tired of that tableaux.

She's sitin' on that stool, one leg over other, just resting her lower foot on the stool's crossbar. The coat - that huge long coat - hangs down her back, a black vertical line about a foot from the floor. Her feet and legs are swathed in seemingly continuous black boots. They must be cloth, I think; they're matte, not shiny as leather is. They're not high heels either, a slight surprise that [I saw her come in so I know she has shorter legs than most]. My eye follows up the curve of her thigh, pausing to admire the taut but ample backside. She has a slight paunch, it's true, but what can I say? I like my women so there's something to hold on to.

Heh, and so we get to the chest. May as well call me a perv right here and now. She's wearing a low top, heart shaped I think the ladies call it. Whatever - it has a plunging neckline. Plenty of cleavage showing there, if y' catch my drift. Decent cleavage too - not like some of these whippets. May as well be boys, that much as they got. It's funny though; for someone who seems so comfortable in that kind of attire, her skin is very pale, not exactly snowy, but not quite as sun-warmed as the rest of us.

Her coat seems thick, a wonder she still has it on, the temperature it is in here. But then maybe she doesn't have any sleeves to that pretty top of hers - hard to tell from where I'm at. But still. Hard to see her face from here too, but I reckon she has handsome features. If the profile is anything to go by, she'll have a cute chin, maybe an average nose - strong features, but not sharp. Too young maybe, but laughter- not worry-lines adorn the edges of her eyes. Ah but now I'm just fantasising.

Her hair, shining brown and gold in this light, might have been done up for the night - it's been pulled back into a half-bun, a silver grip spearing and holding it in place. Wispy gold strands escape, framing her face, softening it. She seems to be gazing - mournfully maybe - down at her half-finished drink, a Martini if the glass and olive are anything to go by. Two leather gloved hands rest gently on the glass's base, turning it occasionally. And so. The barman has called time. She does not move, yet it is time for me to retire. I wonder if she'll be here tomorrow - to see her again would be a delight on my aged eyes...

Elisa glanced at the sky and tried to snuggle back into the alcove she had found in a Beech. Unfortunately it wasn't a very big alcove and her wings kept getting in the way. She pulled one over her shoulder, trying to arrange herself, but was caught looking at it. Her wings were fuchsia, like her hair, and transparent. She had very pretty wings, everybody said so. In fact, everyone said she was a very pretty fay, altogether. Her skin was duck-egg blue, and her antennae where a darker blue. Some people said she would look prettier if she pierced her sharply pointed ears, but Elisa didn't think she would.

She looked again at the sky, but it did not look good, not good at all. The clouds were a deep blue colour, like a big bruise, and the light was more of an odd golden haze. She pulled anxiously at her green beaded necklace. The air was wrong too; smelt wrong, and felt so still and oppressive.

Abruptly Elisa realised she was tugging at her necklace, and stopped. She mustn't do that, it might break, and she liked it very much. She had been given it at the mid-summer dance, by a nice boy-fay. Elisa smiled at the memory. She liked him very much too.

But her smile faded as she heard the first rumble of thunder. This was the first time she wouldn't be at home for a storm, and she was very scared. If only she had listened to the elders, and not gone out. She huddled deeper into the alcove and tried to pull her mismatched autumnal coloured dress further around herself. There was no wind yet, but it felt suddenly colder and the sky had darkened quite substantially. Elisa shut her eyes, and tried to think happy thoughts.

A time later Elisa risked another peak at the sky. It was much darker, and a wind had sprung up, cold and biting. The clouds had thickened and were being pushed boiling, ahead of the wind. She heard yet another rumble of thunder, seemingly closer and CKEICKEEE! The sky lit up with a sudden and violent electric blue light, and the storm was on top of her. It was as though the lightning has been some celestial trigger; the wind accelerated to shake the trees, the clouds began to drop their load in big splattering drops of rain and the sky had darkened to a murky blackness.

A huge gust of wind rocked her beech and knocked Elisa from her alcove. She cried out as she tumbled along the branch. If the silence of before had been oppressive, the sound of the wind and rain and thunder was deafening now. On hands and knees, Elisa tried to crawl back to her alcove, but a huge raindrop crashed down on her, knocking her off balance, and nearly knocking her from the branch. Elisa clung on, desperately trying to haul herself back, but another gust of wind caught her now outspread wings and tore her from the branch. She screamed as it pulled her along hither and thither, like an autumn leaf. She cried out again, and again as loose twigs and other flying debris caught her wings and limbs. She tried to fly, to right herself, but the wind mercilessly continued to batter her, until, THUNK! Elisa slammed into a tree and was finally knocked unconscious.

She woke again, but this time in dew filled grass and blinded by the sun. Elisa tried to move, but her whole body ached and screamed from a thousand cuts. Carefully and painfully she crawled to a pool of water. As she stared into the pool, she hardly recognised the fay that stared back. Her clothes were ripped and torn, but not as much as her wings; they were almost non-existent. Elsia had no idea where she was, and no idea what to do. All she could do was sit and sob with hopelessness, for her situation and for her marred visage.

"Hey Sal, it's eleven o'clock. You going home or what?" the landlord yelled from where he was washing down the bar. Sally looked with disgust at the rain.
"Have you seen it out there?" she called back over her shoulder. "It's pissing it down!" The landlord stopped and looked up across the brightly lit bar at the tall blond.
"What d'you want me to do about it?" he asked tersely. "You can't sleep here."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Sally muttered. "I'm just sayin' is all." Sally pulled her coat further around herself and sighed. "G'night then."
"Good night." He responded, watching the slight girl disappear into the rain soaked night.

As Sally walked down the high street to towards the car park and her car, she shivered. Not only was there the heavy downpour, but it was cold and she only had a small jacket over her barmaid outfit. She glanced around. It was strange seeing the town deserted like this; usually there where a few brave souls, or at least alcoholics, wandering about, but she seemed to be the only one out tonight. Or was she?
Sally stopped and turned around. She'd been sure there had been foot steps behind her just then. Suddenly the wind gusted up, sending a spattering of rain into her face. She shivered again, and shook off the feeling. It wasn't that far to her car. Not far at all. And then she could go home and have a nice hot bath. And be out of this horrible weather. And maybe she'd even make herself a hot chocolate. She still had some of those little marshmallows left, didn't she?
Suddenly a raindrop found it's way down the back of her neck. Sally gasped and stopped, reaching around to wipe it off. Tap, tak. Tap, tak. She froze. That was, that had been... footsteps... Wasn't it? Sally turned again. The street behind her was empty. She turned back and carried on. It was just the rain, sounding like foot steps. She was letting her imagination run away with it's self again. She was the only one out here. A horrible, horrible night. Why would any one else want to out tonight? All the same, she increased her pace.
As she rounded the corner of the mulitstory, Sally breathed a sigh of relief. She really was almost there. She reached for the lift button. From over head there was a rumble of thunder and the rain increased it's relentless pummelling of the ground. She pressed the button, as a crack of lightning illuminated the stair well. She turned to look, and in that split second saw the silhouetted form of a man. The panic she'd been controlling so well broke and overwhelmed her. She gasped. Tap. Tak.
"Work, damn lift work!' she muttered, sobbing, hitting the button. Tap. Tak. She fled, forgetting the lift. Pell-mell up the stairs. She could hardly breath - cold clawed hand of panic squeezed her chest. Tap. Tak. Out in the car park now, rain beating down around. She scrabbled for her bag, hands slippy and wet. Tap. Tak. It was closer now. Her keys, she had to find her keys! Running now, she aimed for the only car. Keys, keys, keys! Her breath coming only is gasps and sobs now, she cannonballed into the car. Where are my keys!
Bang! A heavy paw landed on her shoulder.
"Don't kill me!" she cried.
"Sal? Why would I do that?" Sally turned to see her boss behind her. "You left your keys in the bar. I came to give them to you." She leant back against the car and let out a huge breath as the tension melted away.
"I thought...," she started laughing and crying at the same time. "I thought you were some psycho going to kill me. I'm sorry Boss." The big man handed Sally her keys.
"Heh. No probs kid. Just take care." He turned and Sally watched him walk out of view before turning back to unlock her car. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder again.
"What is it now Boss?" She asked, turning back. Another crack of lighting. A knife flashing in her vision.
A scream, the last sound to escape her mouth.

To Andy, as always, thanks for the Tea.

Acknowledgements:
My thanks to all my friends who've taken such an interest in this work, and who's eyes don't totally glaze over when I start talking about it and for egging me on.
Thanks also to 'deamburnt', the creator of the 'word count catch-up' thread on the NaNoWriMo forums. It helped so much.
And last, but by no means least, my eternal, undying gratitude to the makers of generic supermarket own-brand energy drink. I couldn't have done this with out you guys.

I would also like to apologise to Andy, Kat, Jade-who-I-RPG-with, Greg, Major, Jade-who-I-work-with, and any one else I pissed off during the writing of this. NaNoWriMo ate my brain. But don't worry, normal service will be resumed come December ^.^

Eight o'clock and all's well, Tayna thought as she strolled from the library, her place of work, to a cafÉ down the street for a late dinner. The street was fairly dim, but Tayna wasn't worried; she'd walked this route hundreds of times with no ill happenings. However, today was different. Today, the air seemed electric.

As she rounded a corner, Tayna saw 2 men walking towards her. She moved politely to one side but the men did not.
"Excuse me," she said, trying to pass.
"Aww, don't you want to chat, luv?" asked one of the men, catching hold of her shoulder. She looked up at him. He was tall, wiry, dressed in flashy gold jewellery and grinning in an unpleasant manner.
"Actually, no. I don't, thanks all the same," Tayna told him trying to sound confident, angry. She turned back to walk the way she'd come, but found one of the others blocking her path. A small frightened noise escaped her throat. This one was shorter, more heavily built, just as imposing. He pushed her back, the other grabbed her arms. Tayna felt her heart quicken, her breath gasp, throat clench in terror. She knew she had to scream, kick out, do something, anything, but her body refused to obey her.
"Just a quick kiss, luv," the second said, reaching to cup her cheek. She pulled away.
"Let me go!"
"Now why would we want to do that?" asked the first. "We only want to have a little fun." Tayna felt him move closer to her back.
"Stop it! Get off me!" she started to struggle.
"Oh don't you just love it when they squirm?" the first said to the second, who smirked back.
"Excuse me," said a new voice, behind the second.
"Huh?" the second turned, and Tayna heard a crunch, saw him stagger back towards her groping at his face. She screamed, then screamed again as a hand grabbed from the side and tugged her from the first one's grip.
Suddenly a dark, hairy face zoomed into Tayna's. Time seemed to stop momentarily before the face urged, "Run!" She forced her self forward, past the face, back to the way she'd come, feet pounding the ground as she crashed back into the library.

Somewhere, some when, somebody sneezed.

Her feet were still moving, her eyes shut when Tayna felt herself falling. She screamed yet again, because it seemed like an appropriate thing to do. But she was very surprised to find herself eating leaf litter once she had hit the ground. She pushed herself to her knees and, kneeling, looked around. It was very dark, the kind of dark only found in the middle of the country side. Looking up, all she could see was a few pin pricks of stars. Back on the ground, pale silvery moon light scattered down through the trees around her, making ghostly puddles of light. Back behind her, she could hear the sounds of what could be described as a violent fight – She could hear tree branches being brought crashing to the ground, and the clang of steel on scale. Where the hell am I? Was Tayna's only coherent though, as she stood, nonplussed in the chill air, the fight sounds ringing around her and through to the rest of the dark night, the shafts of silver casting shadows that pooled around her knees. She stood, reached to brush herself down and discovered she wasn't wearing very much. She yelped, and looked down at herself. In place of her jeans, sweater, jacket and comfy trainers was a huge cloak, leather skirt, knee-high boots and worst of all, a leather breast plate that left not much to the imagination. "Heh? What...? Why am wearing this? Where... Where am I?" she looked around again, turning this time, seeing nothing my the dark pillars of tree trunks. "And, just what the fuck is going on here!" she demanded of the universe. Unsurprisingly, the universe deemed her unworthy, and refused answer her paltry question, so Tayna glared at it instead [which the universe managed to ignore, even with an air of superiority], turned on her heal and headed, slightly doubtfully, to the sounds of battle.

Peaking out from behind a tree, Tayna could see a man, human, fighting two huge purple and neon green spotted monsters, with huge horns and tusks and very sharp looking claws. The poor guy seemed to be loosing badly to the monsters. The smart thing to do is walk away, she told herself. I probably hit my head on the library door and this all a bad dream. She turned to walk away, when she heard the man cry out. Worry that this was not a dream churned in her gut. He cried out again and she hurried back to see what was happening.

The man had dropped to one knee, a hand clutched to his side, blood seeping out between his fingers like little crimson rivulets. One of the monsters was dead, it's throat split wide open and oozing green goo, but the other was very much alive and advancing towards the hapless man with malicious intent, licking it's chops and roaring ferociously.
That really looks like real blood. Tayna thought to herself anxiously. Suddenly, as if propelled by an all-seeing hand, Tayna saw the man lift his head, and look right towards her. At the same time, the moon came out and shone down, bathing the scene with clear silver light. Tayna gasped, That man, he's the one who saved me! I have to help him... But how? She looked desperately around, searching for something to use as a weapon, when her eye landed on something shining in the moonlight. She hurried across, to find a beautiful sword, leather hilted, with a deep azure pommel stone, thrust into the ground upright, near a broad limbed oak tree. With out thinking she grabbed it, and ran back to the clearing. Curiously the sword didn't seem heavy, nor did it seem to get in her way as she ran.

Only a quick glance was needed to confirm that the man was still in mortal danger. Without much thought, Tayna gripped the sword in both hands raised it above her head, and ran screaming into the clearing. With a mighty effort she swung the sword at the beast's legs. The monster paused in it's advance.
"Merr?" it asked, looking back over it's shoulder.
"Yeep!" she replied. "Good monster, nice monster, please don't hurt me, oh my god, oh my god." As she waved the sword about in what she hoped was a confident and professional manner, the creature turned towards her. It roared at her in anger, and took one giant step towards her. "Yarg!" Tayna said, frozen to the spot.
Suddenly, the monster went cross-eyed, said, "Roar?" and began to topple forwards.
"Milady!" came a voice from behind the monster. "I advise that thou shouldst shift it!" the voice was all that Tayna needed to bring her out of her panicked daze.
"Milady!" came the voice again, more insistent this time.
"Yes, okay, running now!" she yelled back, managing a hint of sarcasm even in this most desperate of situations, and ran, not a second too soon, as the monster tumbled down to where she had been stood. The shock wave from the creature's fall caused Tayna to stumble, but before she could fall, strong hands grabbed and held her.
"Milady, are you hurt?" Tayna looked up into that face again, then flushed as she realised he held her naked waist. She pulled back abruptly.
"My thanks kind sir," she replied, "but, pray: who art thou, and what hath happened to us... And why in the hell am I talking like a bad Shakespearian actor?" she shook her head trying to clear the urge.
"Milady, those are prudent questions, however I feel some food, some heat, some rest and possibly some bandages would be advisable before they can be answered."
"Yes! Of course, you're side! Are you badly injured?"
"Nay, Milady, 'Tis but a scratch. Come, we must find a suitable resting place, away from these foul creatures."
"Okay, but one thing..." The Man looked at her, an eyebrow arched in question. "Please, please, stop calling me 'Milady'."
"Of course ma'am." Tayna, glared at his back as he set off ahead of her to find some place for them to rest.

Soon enough, they came to a small, shallow cave, with pleasant dry sand for the floor, that successfully managed to keep out the worst of the bitter wind that had sprung up.
"Look, I expect we should get a fire going, that's what seems to happen in most adventure books I've read. Since you are injured, why don't you wait here and I shall fetch some wood."
"But, Ma'am, 'tis dangerous indeed out there in the forest. I should go."
"Do I need to point out that you are bleeding copiously from one side, and that I still have this?" she waggled the sword at him. "It'll all be fine, as long as one of us can work out how to start a fire. Yes," she continued in muttered tones to herself, "it's all going to be fine. Quite peachy in fact. Wonderfully dandy. Just. Fine."

When she returned, the man's bleeding had miraculously stopped and save for a few spots of dark brown on the floor, there was no evidence he ever had been. Tayna dropped the wood.
"Your side, the bleeding, it's stopped," she said. The man waved an empty vial at her.
"Healing potion apparently. Good thing to," he told her. He stood. "I don't believe we've been introduced yet. My name is Jeremiah." He held out his hand toward her. She took it.
"Tayna. What is going on here?"
"I've really no idea. All I know is that one moment I'm fighting those cronies who attacked you, the next the whole world has changed and I'm fighting monsters. What about you? What's the last thing you remember?"
"I was running... I fell through the library door and landed in a forest." They stared at each other for a moment.
"So what do we do now?" Tayna asked.
"Warmth, food, sleep." Jeremiah told her. "As I said before, it's pretty pointless trying to find answers now. We need to eat and rest. Help me build up a fire."
"Umm, how?"
"What do you mean 'how'?"
"I've never built a fire before, I don't know how to do it."
"How could you not know?"
"I've lived in the city most of my life."
"Oh. Well then, go and find me about ten large pebbles. This size." He cupped his hands for her to see what size he meant
"Okay..." Tayna turned and walked into the forest, scanning the ground for rocks. She wished she knew exactly what was going on, but a nasty feeling in her gut told her Jeremiah knew more than he was letting on. Maybe he was even the cause of all this... But to what end? What on earth good would it do him, bringing me here like this? Unfortunately, Tayna was so absorbed in her thinking, she didn't see the rock until she had tripped over it. Picking herself up off the ground, she found that scattered around her where ten rocks, of exactly the right size. She frowned. It was as though someone had left them there for her to find. Tayna shrugged and picked them anyway.

"Hey Jeremiah," Tayna called when she got back. "I found- Jeremiah?" she looked around. He'd started a fire, so she carefully arranged the rocks around the outside. From somewhere had appeared what resembled sleeping bags. Warmth, sleep... Maybe he went to get food. She pondered. Suddenly she felt her legs weaken. Those beds looked so comfortable... but Jeremiah was still missing. I should look for him.
"Jeremiah?" she called, stumbling towards the beds. "Oh my head," she muttered as sparkles danced in front of her eyes. "Jeremiah?" she whispered as her legs finally gave way and her vision darkened, until she was completely unaware of hitting the ground.

When she came too, Tayna found herself lying in a huge four-poster bed. She groaned and sat up. Sun streamed through a bay window as she looked around. The room was fairly large, had unlit oil lamps and to one side of the room was a dressing table covered with beauty products. On a hanger at the end of the bed was the most outrageous dress Tayna had ever seen. It was white and covered with red bows, and frills and ruffles.
"Oh dear gods," she breathed. "Where the hell am I now?"

Sighing dramatically, Tayna climbed out of the bed to discover she was wearing only underwear and a nightdress. "There has to be something better to wear than that," she said to herself, giving the dress a disgusted look. "I'll look like a strawberry meringue! But then... I can hardly wear a nightdress all the time." She plucked at the offending garment, before moving to the edge of the room in search of a closet. However, once she discovered that all the clothes were equally frilly, and that the strawberry meringue was the least offensive, Tayna reluctantly put the thing on and studied her reflection.

She was a pale girl with dark hair, always bright red lips, and consequently had gained the nick-name 'snow white' at school. She'd hated it then, but now cherished it. Surprisingly the meringue dress looked good on her, highlighting her curvaceous figurer, ivory skin and ebony hair that tumbled over her shoulder. She sighed again. I may look good, but I still feel like a complete twazzock. Tayna turned to look at the door.
"I suppose I should see what's out there," she muttered to herself, and strode towards the door.

On opening it, Tayna found herself in a corridor with a flight of stairs leading down. Pulling herself together she descended. At the bottom she could see a man stood. At the sound of her approach he turned around.
"Jeremiah!" Tayna cried happily and hurried down. She was still a few steps from the ground when he clasped her by the waist, spun her off the step and dipped her. Suddenly his face seemed very close. He's going to kiss me!
"What the hell are you doing?" She cried. He paused.
"I have no idea," he let her stand. "Really sorry about that. Don't know what came over me." He looked down at himself. "Got any idea's why I'm wearing this?" Tayna looked at him. He certainly cut a dashing figure. Now she was able to see him in daylight, she took closer inspection of him. He was around the same age as herself, had dark hair that curled just above his shoulders and a slight build that was wrapped in a white shirt, fancy waistcoat and suit. She felt a small sigh escape her lips.
"Youhoo?" Jeremiah waved a hand in front of her face. "I asked if you had any ideas why I'm wearing this. Or why, for that matter, you are wearing that." Tayna's eyes glassed over.
"You do look rather dashing though. Like a dream..."
"Reh?" Jeremiah flushed. "Well, well, you look like a shapely meringue."
"What!" Tayna flushed too, and fussed at the skirt. Suddenly she stopped and looked up. "My gods, I think I just worked this out. Have you ever read a romance novel?"
"Uh. No."
"Well, that kind of embarrassed interlude, it's a classic plot device. Deus ex machina."
"God in the machine. How do you know that?"
"I work in a Library. I have access to a large amount of books, and not much to do. How do you think I know?"
"Wait, you're telling me we're in a book?"
"I don't know what I'm telling you. We seem to be bouncing through genres though," she glanced through a window. "Fantasy, Romance. What's next I wonder?"
"Hopefully something that doesn't include me wearing such silly clothes," he muttered. Tayna giggled at him.
"Maybe we should go and get some food first. Shall we good Sir?" she held out her arm grinning. He shrugged and took her arm.
"May as well." They strolled through the house to discover a dining room with a full spread of breakfast food: Bacon, egg, sausages, black pudding, grilled tomatoes, toast, orange juice, tea, coffee.
"Mm, smells wonderful," Tayna commented as she sat. Jeremiah sat also, and immediately started reaching for a plate.
"Allow me sir." Tayna started in her seat, Jeremiah stood halfway up before they both noticed the bald, ageing butler at the end of the room. Jeremiah sat and let out a nervous laugh.
"Jenkins! You startled me a mite there old chap. Yes, yes carry on."
"It's Jeffreys sir, and thank you sir," the butler served them as Tayna shot Jeremiah a slightly freaked out look across the table. Soon enough the butler had finished, and stood patiently by the doors.
"Err, thank you Jeffreys, you may go now." The butler gave Jeremiah an arched look, before bowing slightly and departing, with,
"Very good sir. Ma'am."
"Wow, what a creepy man," Tayna said. "I wonder where exactly we are."
"More to the point, what book are we in?" asked Jeremiah in between mouthfuls. "And how are we supposed to get out of it?"
"Well, every time I pass out we seem to end up in a new genre. Whether we're changing books too I don't know. Maybe it's a new kind of book that encompasses all genres."
"You are suggesting that we're characters, figment's of someone's over-active imagination? God I hope we get to meet the hack that's writing this, just so I can give him a bloody nose."
"Jeremiah, please. It's just speculation. I expect that there is some reasonable explanation for this, one that involves rips in the time/space continuum and my library," Tayna sipped her tea, thinking speculatively.
"Yes," muttered Jeremiah, "because that's perfectly reasonable."
"After all," Tayna continued, not hearing him, "I did fall through the library doors when this all started out. Maybe we'll end up in a Sci-Fi next, with someone who can explain it all."
"Or maybe we'll just get some lame robot who repeats everything we say to up the author's word count. I bet it's some fifty year old goit who still lives in his mothers basement."
"Shut up, please. You might be happy considering if your a figment of someone's imagination, but I find it disturbing."
"Oh. Sorry," he coughed and looked down at his plate. They ate in silence until Jeremiah broke it.
"So, the only way we can travel between genres is for you to be out cold for a while?"
"Looks like it." Jeremiah nodded and stood. "Hey, where are you going?" Tayna asked.
"To find, alcohol, chloroform or, at a pinch, a big stick."
"What! Hey, no. You are not purposefully knocking me out," she stood also. "We don't know if it works only on me. Why don't I find the chloroform, and you can get yourself comfortable." He considered for a moment.
"No."
"Oh come on! I've done it twice. Since you seem to be moving with me, it's your turn."
"No!"
"Dammit, please?"
"No means 'no'."
"I'll be gentle, and I won't let anything embarrassing happen to you while you're out. Please?"
"Grrr, oh fine! Just don't hit me too hard or anything." Tayna smiled.
"Sure, Be right back."

"Jeffreys?" Tayna called.
"Yes ma'am?" The butler replied, stepping from a doorway. She jumped slightly.
"Oh, there you are. Jeffreys, do we have any chloroform?"
"Ma'am?"
"Yes or no, do we have any?"
"Yes ma'am, but may one ask why?"
"No one may not. Please bring it to the sitting room."
"Yes ma'am," he said reluctantly.

Tayna walked to the lush, and unfortunately pale pink sitting room.
"Did you find any?" Jeremiah asked.
"Yes, that creepy butler, Jeffreys, is bringing it. Comfy?"
"I suppose."
They sat for a while, before the door opened and admitted the butler.
"Your chloroform, ma'am." Tayna took it from him.
"Thank you, that will be all." Jeffreys nodded and withdrew.
"Getting use to having him around are we?" Jeremiah asked mockingly.
"Oh hush. I still think he's creepy," she glanced out the patio doors at the end of the sitting room and studied the view. The house seemed to be built on top of a hill or cliff, as she could see down into a cove where the surf seemed to caress the shore. She could see children playing on the beach, their parents relaxing in the sun. It could have been painted, it was so perfect.
"Where d'you think it all goes?" she asked quietly.
"All what?"
"Everything. The house, the scenery, the people. Where does it go when we've moved on?" Jeremiah sat up and rested a hand on her arm.
"I don't know. Maybe they live on in the authors mind. I'm sure he'd not forget somewhere like this," he looked into her eyes before settling back. "I'm ready when you are." Tayna sighed again, took one last glance out the window and nodded firmly.
"I'm ready," she smiled. "Sweet dreams." Tayna poured some of the chloroform on to a handkerchief that conveniently happened to be on a coffee table next to them and held it over his mouth. Slowly Jeremiah's eyes dropped and he was unconscious.
"Out like a light."

Sometime later Jeremiah opened his eyes. With some effort he sat up and looked around. Tayna was sat at a small dining table not far from him, late afternoon sunshine streaming through a window.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Nothing," she replied bitterly. "We're still here, in the romance department."
"Why didn't you move us on when you knew nothing would happen."
"I figured we might end up in some situation where it would be better if one of us was awake."
"Yeah, good point."
Tayna turned from the window and looked at him. "How are you feeling? Ready to move on?"
"Give me a sec. I'm still a little groggy." Tayna nodded and resumed looking out of the window.
"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Jeremiah asked. Tayna drummed her heals on the chair.
"Nope. How are you feeling now?"
"Better, thanks. Not keen to move on are you?" Tayna slowly turned towards him, and shot him a venomous look.
"There is nothing outside of this house and a few meters in any direction."
"What d'you mean?"
"Exactly that. It's hard to describe exactly what kind of nothing it is, but it's as though the world beyond this house just hasn't been written yet."
"I see," Jeremiah stood and stretched. "Make yourself comfy." he told her, extending a hand to the couch. Tayna sighed, pushed her chair back, and, as she stood, the world went into slow motion. Jeremiah saw her rise, slowly, gracefully from the chair. In one smooth motion she smoothed her dress down, then stood fully erect as she flicked her hair out behind her and over her shoulder. Jeremiah could have sworn little stars flickered around her as she did this.
"I think," he said mesmerised. "I think there is something we need to do before we go."
"Oh? What's that?" His feet took him swiftly across the floor to her, until he stood so close he could feel her body heat. Gently, he cupped her cheek.
"Jeremiah, what are you-" He put a finger to her lips.
"Shh, trust me."
She stayed silent, wide-eyed and trembling as he lifted her face toward his. Gently he lowered his lips on to hers. She was so soft, so warm. Softly he kissed her, then drew back to look into her eyes. She was speechless, but he could see through her eyes, her mind was in turmoil.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "but I think that was something we had to do to move on." Tayna nodded, her legs weak. Jeremiah snaked an arm around her waist.
"Ready?" he asked. She nodded. He picked up the chloroformed handkerchief and pressed it over her mouth. Her eyes flickered, and the last thing she saw was his loving smile.

Tayna came too with a pounding head. Sitting up she found herself lying in what appeared to be a pile of old sheets in a huge warehouse. It was very dark, but a full moon shone down through skylights. There was a strong odour in the air, one she couldn't quite work out. She looked down at herself. Thank the gods, no more frumpy dresses. Instead she seemed to be wearing tight jeans, and a black roll-neck sweater with flat shoes. Finally, something I walk in and not feel silly. She opened her mouth to call for Jeremiah, then stopped, flushing at the memory of his kiss.
"Damn him!" She grumbled, and stood, wobbling slightly. "Dragging a girl though genres, only to kiss and run. Bastard." she looked around again trying to find an exit, seeing only stacks of boxes and pallets. Suddenly she thought she heard something, and spun around. There was nothing. She suddenly realised she was gripping something. Tayna looked at her hand.
"Reh!" In her surprise the silver cross clattered to the floor, along with blood drops where it had pierced her hand. She stared at it wide-eyed, before pulling herself together.
"Stop being so silly. It's just a cross, and there is nothing here. It's just the wind or something." She giggled a high pitched, nervous giggle, and stooped to pick up the cross.
As she did so, she felt something rush by and brush her legs. She gasped, stood bolt upright and very still, the cross again tightly clutched in her hand. Tayna realised she was holding her breath, and let it out slowly, trying to calm her racing heart.
"Huh well, if Mister 'I have to kiss you' isn't going to save the day this time, I suppose I should do it myself." She glanced around again at the boxes. "If I can't see an exit, then I'll just have to go find one. There has to be an exit from this place somewhere." She huffed moodily and set her shoulders, trying to get her courage up. Tayna lifted herself up on the ball of one foot and spun herself, arm out stretched. She stopped randomly, opened her eyes and set off down the chosen 'corridor' of boxes.

I wonder what sort of stuff is being kept in this warehouse? Tayna thought as she walked along. Her fingers itched to open a crate and find out, but aside from the fact she had no tools, good sense [or maybe it was fear] prevented her from doing so. It was very quiet, the only sounds her gentle breathing and the tip-tip-tip of her shoes.
Suddenly she shivered, a spine tingling chill, the kind she'd only ever read about. She froze, certain she was being watched. Tayna struggled to control her breathing, to stop her legs from fleeing on their own. Of their own volition, her eyes filled with water as her nose twitched spasmodically. Under control at last she spun around to find there was nothing. She stared at the space behind her, trembling. She had been so sure... Still staring at the empty space, she backed away slowly before turning and hurrying down another 'corridor', without realising it was a different one.

Wow, I've been walking a long time, Tayna thought. There has to be an edge to this place, surely? To try and dispel the silence she began to sing,
"I don't know,
what words I can say.
The wind has a way,
to talk to me.

Flowers sleep,
a silent lullaby.
I pray for reply,
I'm ready." As she began the second verse, Tayna was sure she heard another voice beside hers. She stopped singing. There was no other sound.
"Huh, must have been an echo." She mused, trying to ignore the sound-absorbing properties of wood. She continued,
"Quiet days calm me,
oh serenity.
Some one please tell me,
ohm, what is it-"
Abruptly she stopped, but the other voice carried on,
"What is it they say? Maybe I'll know one day...." The haunting tune petered out, and ended with a ghostly giggle, much like a child's. Tayna felt her blood run chill, as her nose twitched again.
"H-hello? Is someone there?" She sneezed violently as a ghostly hand seemed to slip through hers. "AaaaAAAH!" Completely freaked out now, she turned and ran pell-mell back through the labyrinth of boxes, towards one of the warehouse walls.
Suddenly a bright light, followed by a huge dark figure blocked her way. She screamed as she tried to stop, but was unable to stop herself crashing into it. "Aah! Let go of me! Let go! Let go! Let go!"
"Now then Miss, I'll let go of yer if yer can tell me what y'are doin' wanderin' round this 'ere storage facili'y int'dead of night."
"W-who are you? I don't know! I just woke up here! Please, don't hurt me!" she sobbed in reply.
"Name's Joe, I'm a security guard here. Now, calm down Miss. Why don't you come along wid me and have a nice cuppa, eh? Then we can answer each other's questions."
"Yes! Anything! Get me out of here, please. Please!" Joe shone his torch at her face.
"Okay, okay. Well, now, you're as white as a sheet. Seen ghostly 'app'nin's, has yer?" All Tayna could manage was a strangled sob. Joe carefully put his arm around her and lead her through the maze of crates to his office.

"'Ere we go Miss," Joe said, handing her a cup of extra sweet, extra milky tea. They were sat in his office, a small bright room full of small televisions each showing different aspects of the warehouse.
"All better now, eh?" Tayna gulped half the mug before nodding.
"Yes, thank you," she took another swig. "I'm sorry about the whole screaming thing, it's just, I-" Tayna stopped, and looked intently at the mug. He'll never believe me. But then, she glanced at one of the TVs, do I? Joe seemed not to notice her sudden confusion.
"It's no matter miss. Now, I hope you'll not mind, Miss, but since yer seem a bit calmer, I'm needin' to ask yer some questions." Tayna nodded.
"I understand. It's okay." Joe nodded, and flipped open a shorthand note book.
"Now then, what's yer name?"
"Tayna. Tayna Davies. That's tee ay why en ay, dee ay ve aye ee es." Joe lifted one eyebrow. She flushed. "I'm sorry, it's just a lot of people have trouble with it. In fact, I remember one time-" Joe cleared his throat. Tayna flushed again.
"Address?" Joe asked.
"Seventy one, Maple Drive, Bethesda, Maryland."
"Wha'?"
"Uh, the United States of America." Joe stared at her blankly for a while before seeming to shrug and write it down.
"Now comes the hard bit Miss Davies. How did yer get into this facili'y int'first place?"
"I don't know. I woke up, and there I was." Joe looked at her closely for a moment, before writing that down too.
"An' whut's the last thing yer remember?" Tayna flushed deep crimson.
"Kissing... a boy. A friend. At his place," she felt her face go even hotter, but her mouth continued to explain regardless of her brain thought. "It wasn't a party or anything. We were-" Oh gods, he's going to commit me if I say 'Well, actually, you see, these guys were trying to rape me and this other guy came along and saved me but now we're stuck in some literary genre dimension and he had to kiss me so that we could move on and maybe get home.' Shit, what am I going to say? Then inspiration hit like a line man for the Dallas Cowboys. She flushed even brighter, and looked coyly at her lap.
"Well, we were doing what many young lovers do, if you catch my drift," she smiled at him shyly and continued. "I guess the emotional, the sexual, tension got a little much. Though how I ended up here is entirely beyond me," she fluttered her eyelashes for extra effect and sat back.
"So," Joe said, looking sheepishly at his notebook, blushing slightly, "let me see if I 'ave this right. You an' your lad was havin' a bit of a how's ya father, when it all got a bit much an' you fainted. When you woke you was 'ere. No rhyme or reason to it?"
"That sounds about right, yes."
"So what was all that yellin' and screamin' about?"
"I, err," Tayna sighed. She had to tell him eventually. "I though that someone was following me, and or there was a ghost in there with me. It's pretty silly huh?" she giggled nervously. "I guess I freaked myself out a little." Joe gave her a funny look, before scribbling that down as well. "So," she drummed her fingers on the side of the mug. "Is that all?" Joe shook his head slowly as he finished writing.
"I'm really sorry about this Miss, but that warehouse has a lot of valuable ar'ifac's in it. I have to make sure you didn't nick anythin'. If you could stand up please?"
"Really Joe, I was running around, lost and scared witless. I didn't take anything."
"I know, but still I have to check. If you would." Tayna sighed and stood with her arms stuck out, cruciform, as Joe gently patted her sides and trouser legs. He stopped when he hit her pocket.
"Miss Davies, could yer remove what's in yer right trouser pocket." She frowned, but did so, holding the sliver cross out in front of herself for him to inspect.
"It was in my hand when I woke. Probably a gift from that no-good lover of mine," she told him, rolling her eyes at the mention of her 'no-good lover'. Damn that Jeremiah! She thought crossly. Joe sat and reached into a drawer. As he pulled out a huge book and began to flick through.
"Ah. 'Ere we go. The cross please," he held out his hand. Tayna handed it to him. He seemed to be scanning the pages, looking alternately from the book to the cross. Finally, after much humming and hawing he handed it back. "It's okay, it's not one of ours. Sorry, Miss Davies-"
"But you have to check, I know. You're very good at your job, Joe. Be proud," Tayna smiled at him.
"Thank you Miss," he grinned back. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what did you hear in there? The other guards have told me about the visits they get from ghosts while on the night shift, but I've never experienced anything." Tayna stared at him. Others have experienced this stuff?
"Well, uh. I thought something was in there with me. I thought I could hear it moving around and watching me, and I also thought I felt it touch me. Um, and I was scared, so I started singing and there was another voice singing with me, a child," her eyes began to water, and her nose to twitch again, but she continued. "And just before I ran into you I heard a child giggle and, and a hand, a child's, in mine," Tayna sneezed violently, once, twice. She looked up, eyes streaming to find Joe staring at her. Tayna wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
"What is it?"
"You can't be. There hasn't been one here for decades."
"Be one what?"
"I was told that it was hereditary. There's no way..."
"Joe! Be one what?"
"A spirit sensor."

Tayna blew her nose loudly in the handkerchief Joe handed her.
"Joe, what are you talking about? What is a 'spirit sensor'?" he looked down at his hands. He mumbled, seemingly debating with himself.
"I shouldn't, I shouldn't tell her. Get someone who really knows to, but, she's so curious. No take her to Madam, Madam will explain much better. Yes. But I shouldn't leave my post, so many artefacts. Directions," he looked up. "If I write them down, do you think you could follow directions to someone who can really explain?"
"Yes, I should think so." Joe nodded, again seemingly to himself and set about finding pen and paper and writing something down. Finally he handed it to her.
"Please follow these directions and tell Madame Fox that I sent you and you are what you are."
"Oookay."
"And be careful. I don't know what it's like in the United States of America, but our streets can be quite rough at times." Tayna smiled. "I'll be fine," she told him.

As she walked away from the warehouse, waving goodbye to Joe, Tayna pondered. I wonder who this Madame Fox woman is, and what Joe meant about the streets being 'rough'. Maybe they're cobbled. I wonder why he seemed to think that my perfectly normal reaction to the supernatural was so special. I've always been like this, ever since I was little and Kate and I told each other stories under the covers at night. Maybe, maybe I was brought here for a reason, to help these people, with whatever is wrong here.
I wonder where that blasted Jeremiah got to. You'd think that we'd have moved on together like the last two times. Maybe he got stuck in Romance. Ha! Serve him right if he did. After all he was so mean to the author, I bet it's really a pretty she competing in some novel writing competition. I hope she wins...
As she walked, Tayna noticed the streets where completely empty and the night very cold. Mist and hot water vapour from vents in the ground jumped together, had a fight, rolled around, then sulked and went their separate ways. The architectures was exactly like she had seen in some period drama for Victorian London. For the first time, she wondered where she was and what the time really was.
Following the directions, Tayna was easily able to make it to 'Madame Fox's' with out much trouble, and with no harassment. However, when she arrived, she hesitated to ring the bell. It's the middle of the goramn night, I know I'd be pissed if someone woke me up this late. But... I've nowhere else to go. And it's cold. Maybe Jeremiah's with her. Her eyes lit up at the though, before she cursed herself for doing it. Angry at herself, she sighed.
"Oh dammit. What the hell," she muttered, and pushed the button.

She heard the clanging of a bell come from deep within the house, rushing out to scold her for her impudence. There was silence for a long while after it stopped, stretching into the darkness like a particularly lithe cat, when suddenly above her a window flew open.
"Who's there? Waddaya want with me, so late is the hour, can't a body get an inch of rest? Well then speak up, if you've a tongue to wag and and a mind to speak." Tayna cleared her throat.
"Err, Madam? My name is Tayna Davies, I was sent by Joe," she had a sudden urge to tack on the end 'He's from the button factory', but successfully resisted. "He, uh, he said you could explain to me what a 'spirit sensor' is." Just as abruptly as it opened, the window shut with a thud and the tinkle of poorly fitted glass. Tayna heard footsteps running down through the house and up to the front door. It was opened by a tall thin and pale lady, still in a heavy white nightgown, her grey hair in disarray.
"A spirit sensor eh? Can't say I've seen the likes of you for a while," she looked Tayna up and down. "Well then, come in if you're coming," she said, standing back from the door.

Tayna eyed the woman before stepping across the threshold into a huge lobby. At the furthest end was a huge staircase, leading up into the darkness. A few portraits of men in proud postures adorned the walls. The woman herself was holding a candle. Odd, Tayna though, The security guard had TVs, which means electricity. Why does this one only have a candle?
"So, and so," the woman said, shutting the door. "You are a spirit sensor, hum? What is your name, then? And where would you hail from, and who might you kin be, hum?"
"Whoa, slow down. I'm sorry, but are you Madame Fox?" Tayna asked. "I want to speak to her. I will only answer her questions." The woman leant back and regarded her.
"A fox you seek is it then? Well then, well then," the woman began to walk away. "Come on then, if you're coming and have legs to take you." She beckoned to Tayna who followed, not wishing to be left in the dark.

The woman lead Tayna to a small room, with large armchairs and a fireplace. A bookcase stood against one wall and in the centre was a small table. Like a parlour. Tayna though.
"Take a seat, yes, take a seat please now," the woman told her motioning to the chairs while she went around the room lighting oil lamps that cast a warm, if not very bright, glow over the room. Tayna chose the smallest chair that stood one side of the central table. When she had finished, the woman turned back to Tayna and said,
"Well then, well then. Here I am then, here would be the fox you seek. I believe some answering would be in order now. Yes, Q and A, question and answers. If you can still recall, some answers the fox would like, if you please." Tayna stared at the woman, Madame Fox, for a moment. Fox indeed! The woman is certifiable. She though. I am getting dizzy just listening to her speak. But she nodded and began to speak in answer Madame Fox's questions.
"As I said before, my name is Tayna Davies. I'm from Bethesda in America, which no one seems to know about here. As for my kin, well, I don't have any. I've been orphaned as long as any one can tell."
"Well now, well now. That adds quite a twist, yes an interesting twist, to this little tale, now doesn't it?" Madame Fox steepled her fingers and tapped them together.
"Okay," Tayna said leaning forward in her chair, "my turn I believe. What the hell is a spirit sensor and why does Joe, the security guard, seem to adamant that I am one?"
"Well now, well now, what a curious thing: a sensor that doesn't know what or how she is. Well now then, let us see. Let us see.
"A spirit sensor is a one, yes, usually a male one, who knows when there are other ones, spirits, beasties, critters, things that go bump in the night, around. Doesn't have to see them. Doesn't have to hear them. That one, that sensor, he just knows. Some ones get itching in their palms, some other ones get a tingle on the scalp, and yet some other ones get a twitchy, tickley nose. I wonder. I wonder, which of those ones might you be? Hum?" Madame Fox leaned forward also, her nose barely inches for Tayna's own.
"I- My eyes run and I sneeze," Tayna lent back and looked away, finding the other woman's gaze to intense.
"And yet," Madame Fox continued, "and yet, it is so curious, so curious indeed, that we have here a female sensor with no kin, no blood to link her, and not from around abouts either. How could it be that you are not a sensor? Maybe your sweet guard was wrong. Maybe our Joe needs himself to be tweaked, fine tuned a little, Hum. Hum hmm. A test perhaps. Yes. Perhaps we should run a test, a small experiment, maybe even perhaps a scenario."
"Hey, wait a minute!"
"Yes, yes yes!" Madame Fox grabbed Tayna's arm and pulled her from her chair and through the door. Tayna pulled back.
"No, stop! I'm not doing some stupid test. I don't know why I even bothered with this, I only want to go home!" she tugged her arm back. "Would you let go of me, crazy old bint! Let GO!" Madame Fox turned back as Tayna finally wrenched her arm from the other woman's grip. Tayna stood there, her hands on her head. She was so confused; she wanted to run away, and cry and shout some more, all at the same time.
"I don't care. I don't care. I want to go home. I just want to go home," she mumbled. "I don't, I don't AAAAAAAAAAGH!" She sank to her knees, pulling at her hair, oblivious to the older woman staring at her. Tears began pouring from her eyes as she screamed. "God damn it! God. Dam. It!" she sobbed. "Why? Why? WHYYYYYY? I don't care, I don't, about any of this, please, gods, why? Why me? I've had it. Enough. Enough! I want to go home. I don't want to be here. I want to be living my normal life. I never want to have met that sick bastard Jeremiah. I don't care that he saved me, I don't care about the attack. I hate him. I hate this. Make it go AWAY! You sick, twisted fucks. Make it go away. Send me back. BACK! HOME! I WANT TO GO HOOOME!"

As she curled in a ball on the floor, sobbing her heart out, Tayna felt a touch on her shoulder.
"There there," muttered Madame Fox in sympathetic tones. "There there. I am most terribly sorry, over flowing with apologies of the sincerest kind. I got so terribly, awfully, fanatically, enthusiastic about you, poor sensor. It's been so long, you see, so long. I didn't think at all about you, poor thing, about how you would feel. I regret this lapse most dearly. You poor dear, poor lamb," the woman patted Tayna's back. "Poor thing. When did you last eat? When, for that matter did you last sleep? What, oh and what did you have to go through to get here? Such a poor dear," Madame Fox tugged at her arm. "Come on then, poor lamb, poor duck, come on and we'll get you some food to fill you, and a bed to rest you, and all will be right as rain-"
"Shut. Up," Tayna interrupted.
"Huh?"
"Just shut up. Quit talking. Cease and desist. And let go of me," Tayna's voice was low, slow and dangerous. She pulled away from Madame Fox and stood. "Food, sleep and then I am leaving. I am going to find Jeremiah and he is going to tell me what is going on. If you please," She looked pointedly at Madame Fox. The older woman looked sheepish.
"This way then, yes, yes, this way. Come on, then, come on." Tayna's brow furrowed into a glare as the older woman tottered away, ushering her towards what Tayna presumed would turn out to be a kitchen.

She was right... ish. The kitchen was down in a basement, and was rather larger than the average. Along one wall stood large cabinets, one full of what looked like alchemists paraphernalia, all gleaming glass and steel, another with bottles, pots and jars of curious colours and shapes, and yet others with simpler utensils, pots and pans. Huh, any moment I bet she's going to call for an Igor. Tayna though bitterly.
"I assume you actually keep food here?" she said out loud in a snotty tone of voice.
"Oh yes, yes. It's a round here some place. After all we all need to live. Let me just call my assistant..." Oh for the love of androgynous hippies! Tayna mentally slapped her forehead. I can't believe this... Madame Fox walked to a door off the kitchen and knocked at it.
"Uh, assistant? Could you kindly come and make us a pot of tea and maybe perhaps even a late night snack?" There was a grunt and something hit the inside of the door. Madame Fox turned to Tayna.
"I think I may have woken him up." Tayna wondered at the older woman's astonishing capacity for stating the obvious. She also felt sorry for the pretty female author that the response was so succinct, which seemed to be unusual for Madame Fox, who, given her scatty nature and mad scientist aspect, seemed to have a natural propensity for repeating everything she said multiple times and rambling on at great length. Tayna suddenly realised that this rather rambling thought of hers about Madame Fox, in whom she had no particular special interest, was the cheating author's attempt of upping the word count. She rapidly stopped thinking and started to take notice again in what was going on.
The door creaked open and out slumped a dark figure hanging off the handle. It grunted at Madame Fox.
"Yes, now, be a dear would you?"
Grunt.
"Be polite, there's a lamb, we have company you know."
Grunt?
"She's over there," Madame Fox flicked a hand back towards Tayna.
The figure grunted in surprise and Tayna watched it unfold and rush towards her, tripping out of a sleeping back in the process.
"Tayna! Tayna! My God!" Tayna's eyes widened in surprise as the figure came into the light and up towards her.
"Jeremiah! I though you were dead or – well, actually I didn't know what your were, but – oh!" She finished in surprise as he clasped her shoulders and face. "I'm so glad you're okay, I was so worried -" Then in a rush Tayna remembered how angry she was at him. She slapped him around the face. His expression was one of such shock, pain and disbelief that it would have convinced the most sceptical of directors of his ability to act.
"Ow, hey, what was that for?" he put a hand to his stinging cheek. Tayna looked like she could cry, wordlessly she then kissed him hard and full on the mouth. When she pulled away, that same look was still plastered across his countenance, minus the pain.
"And that?" he asked. Tayna began to cry.
"I don't know! I was so angry at you, I thought you'd dumped me or you'd become a spirit, I was so scared. But now, I'm so happy, you're back and I'm so pleased to see you, and so relived and-" Jeremiah put his arms around her and pulled her to him in a really warm embrace.
"I don't know about turning into a spirit, but you sure sound like you could do with some, the stronger the better," he squeezed her and began to let go to get some when she cried out.
"No, please," she looked up, eyes wide, terrified.
"Okay, okay. It can wait," he murmured before turning to the older woman, who was stood looking fairly confined. "Madame. I would recommend that you get some rest for the time being. We'll explain all in the morning, if we are still here. I pray you are not too disappointed at lacking your midnight snack."
"Oh no. No no I don't mind, don't mind at all. Quite happy to in fact. The snack was for the poor dear there, yes the poor lamb. Would you see to it for me?"
"Yes Madame, of course." Madame Fox nodded and turned to leave. As she left the kitchen Tayna was sure she heard the woman say,
"Some horror this is turning out to be."

Jeremiah rested his chin on Tayna's head.
"So, you really though I was dead, huh?" he asked. She sniffed.
"Or an Igor."
"'An 'Igor'?"
"Never read Terry Pratchett's Diskworld?"
"I didn't ever really use to read much. After this, I don't think I'm ever going to do books again."
"Don't let one bad experience put you off for life," Tayna mumbled back. He looked down at her.
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
"No."
"Didn't think so. I think it might be time for you to sleep."
"She was right you know."
"Who?"
"Madame Fox."
"About what?"
"This horror really isn't that scary. Our author sucks at horror. What this really needs is a couple of good zombie chases. She really shouldn't be so concerned with getting her word count up. She keeps pulling dirty little tricks like this one to up the count you know. I bet next she'll start spelling out things like comma and full stop and exclamation mark in a moment."
"Tell you what," Jeremiah said, "why don't we leave getting chased by zombies and other ghouls for tomorrow when you've rested and eaten."
"Okay," she mumbled into his chest. He put an arm around her waist and half carried her to his cupboard sized room. He gently lowered her on to the mattress on the ground and with great care and tenderness covered her with the sleeping bag he had been sleeping in [go go Captain Obvious!].
"Hey, Tayna?" he sat with his back against the opposite wall and pulled the door to. He watched her carefully, for signs she was still awake. When he was sure she was finally asleep he sighed and spoke again. "I'm sorry about all this, I really am. I know this is hard on you, and you're starting to break already, but you really do have to hold on. Our dear author still has forty one thousand, fiver hundred and ninety three words to go until she can stop, and we're only three genres in. A lot has to happen to us in that time. And I'm sorry that it was you who got sucked into this, cause, well, you seem like a really nice person, and I think we would have gotten on really well, but I was told to help someone and you seemed to be the best person to help, since those men where going to, well you know, and, dammit, I really am just so sorry.
"But the best part is, I know we're going to have a happy-ever-after. I don't quite know how or what exactly, but she promised me that, before she sent me in, and I believe her. I trust her skills as a writer, even if she doesn't seem to be doing a very good job at it right now. I'm sorry I've had to lie to you, but I'm sure it would really screw things up if you knew," he paused, then put his face in his hands. "Oh my god, I can't believe she just made me monologue." He leant over and brushed some strands of hair away from Tayna's sleeping face. "But I bet she didn't plan on me falling in love with you." Gently he kissed Tayna's cheek, then lay down next to her. In the dark, Tayna's slitted eyes were unreadable.

The next morning Jeremiah and Tayna were woken by a scream from outside the room. They rushed out to find Madame Fox stood in front of the kitchen wall that had nothing on it. Only now it did. Smeared in blood where the words: 'How's this for horror, bitch??' Jeremiah mentally slapped his forehead, as Madame turned to them and said accusatory,
"Did one of you write this? Why?"
"We didn't do this, I swear!" Tayna said. "We fell asleep practically the moment the moment you left."
"Then who? Who, who could have done this?" Madame Fox faced the wall, gesticulating wildly and flapping her arms in angry animation. "Ruined my lovely wall, my kitchen. In blood no less!" Madame Fox turned to them. "Do you know how hard it is to get blood off things? A white wall. A white wall! Gah, such a terrible, awful, stubborn stain!"
"Madame, why don't you come and sit down. A cup of tea will do you wonders," Jeremiah said, moving to manoeuver the distraught woman to a seat. As he did so he nodded to Tayna and then the kettle. She took her cue and moved to prepare the tea; fulling and lighting the stove, filling a kettle and placing it on the stove, setting out teapot, cups, saucers, tea, sugar, milk, biscuits.
"Why don't I set these out on a tray?" Tayna suggested. "That way we can take them upstairs and you can explain more about spirit sensors." Jeremiah nodded encouragingly.
"An excellent idea Tayna," he said. "Why don't you and Madame Fox take it up now? I'll bring the tea in a bit and start preparing breakfast after I've cleaned this."
"Yes, okay. We'll all feel better after a bite to eat," Tayna smiled brightly. Madame Fox scowled.
"Are you two married or something?" she asked. Tayna and Jeremiah just smiled at her.
"Humph. Well, fine then, fine. I'll go and I hope you'll clean up after yourself. Never could stand a grubby kitchen, oh no." Jeremiah took her arm and steered her to the door.
"Of course Madame, wouldn't dream of anything else." Behind them Tayna picked up a tray with the cups, saucers, sugar bowl, milk jug and a plate of biscuits and carried it after Madame Fox as she ascended the stairs, smiling all the time. Jeremiah, too, was all smiles. However, as soon as he could hear them on the ground floor, moving away from the top of the stairs, his smile vanished.
"Darling author, that was a really crappy trick, not scary at all and far too clichÉ."
The writing on the wall changed morphing to read ' It's only not scary because you know it's me. It got a scream from the charmingly batty Madame Fox.'
"Please," he asked. "could you remove it so I don't get into more trouble. You're going to blow your cover you know. I already think little Tayna suspects something with your little word count tricks." The writing morphed again to read ' Prepare to be frightened then.' then vanished. Jeremiah snorted and shook his head. 'I heard that.' briefly appeared on the wall. Oblivious Jeremiah then set about sorting out the tea and cooking a full English breakfast.

Upstairs, in a slightly less formal sitting room Madame Fox lounged on a sofa, nibbling a biscuit, while Tayna set out the tea things. When she was done she sat in an overstuff, but strangely comfortable arm chair opposite Madame Fox.
"So Madame, I recall you said that these spirit sensors people are all most always male, and that there hasn't been one around here for a while, but you didn't really explain much more than that."
"Well then, well then, what sort of thing is it you want to know about them?" Madame Fox asked in response.
"I'd like to know how it works. You know, is there something special about these people's genetics, or is it just a gift? Is it hereditary, passed from father to son. And if so, then how on earth could I be one of these people?"
"From father to son, father to son, yes, yes. I believe that is how it has worked in the past. How you seem to be one is beyond me, though I have heard it said, yes, that it's a third son of a third son thing and maybe, just maybe if the third son is a daughter then she would get the gift. And, yes, a gift, a gift it is."
"Why? Why is being able to sense a ghost a good thing?"
"Or a ghoul, or a beast, a critter even, or a something that goes bump in the night."
"Or one of those, yes."
"Ah a terribly good question. A good one indeed." Madame Fox stood and walked to the cold fireplace. She rested her elbows on the mantle and her chin on her hands and gazed into the gilt framed mirror that hung there, as if she could see into other far away lands. It was a curiously child-like gesture Tayna though.
"Yes," Madame Fox said, her voice and eyes far away. "Yes a gift it can be. The ghoulies and ghosties and the critters and the things that go bump in the night can be very dangerous, very dangerous indeed. They can hurt and they prey and do terrible things. It is a gift. A sensor helps, they can warn, they can tell who might be in trouble, in danger. Haven't had one in a while, no, no. Not since I was a girl, a wee little cherub. Pity. Oh yes, such a pity, a tragedy, maybe even perhaps a contretemps." Tayna heard her sigh and looked at Madame Fox's reflection. Are those...tears? Tayna looked down at her hands.
"Who, who did you loose?" She asked in a small voice.
"A man, my best friend, my light and life. My... lover." Tayna felt tears spring to her eyes and a lump form in her throat.
"I..." Her voice choked. "I'm sorry." She risked a glance in the mirror again. Madame Fox had her eyes closed. "Excuse me." Tayna said in a tight voice as she rose. There was no response from Madame Fox as Tayna left.

Outside the room Tayna found a hard backed chair and sat down, staring into space. How could I have been so selfish last night? She thought angstily. She's lost the only one in her life that was important to her. She lost him because someone like me wasn't around. And I had the gall to whine like a complete baby last night, when she only wanted to find out if I really was one of these sensor things, maybe to help others. A portrait of some guy in a frilly shirt glared down at her in accusation. She leant back in the chair and stared unseeing at the ceiling, tears flowing down her face unnoticed. "Gods, what a Muppet I am." She muttered out loud to the floral plaster work. She closed her eyes for a split second, then opened them and sat up, her face set and determined. She wiped away the tears.
"And you can go screw yourself." She told the man in the painting. She had come to a decision.

"Madam?" Tayna asked from the doorway. The older woman was still stood at the fire place, but Tayna saw her shift her head slightly so she would be able to see the girl. "I assume," Tayna continued, "you had somewhere in mind to test me?" Madame Fox said nothing, and Tayna couldn't see her face. "I mean to say, Madame Fox, that if you are still as enthusiastic as last night, I would be willing to submit to your test of my reputed abilities. Do you have a place in mind?" Madame Fox turned around.
"I am heartily, joyfully, most paradisiacally pleased to hear you say that, my dear, my little sensor, my cherub." There were tears still on her face, but she was smiling broadly. "Of course I have a place in mind for this test, this excursion, this experiment. But, and yes but, a spot to eat, a bite, a nibble of breakfast before we go, yes to keep our strength up. We will need it, yes, you will need it my sweet. I'm so glad, so delighted you will do it. And now, and now we should go and see how that breakfast, that grub to break our fast, is coming along." she nodded, wiped her eyes and walked out the door past Tayna who had the distinct feeling that that little show had been simply to encourage her to agree to the test. I will need my strength, eh? The whole thing was making her a little nervous. She turned to see Madame Fox walking down the corridor.
"I'll wait up here, if you don't mind Madame." Tayna called to her. Madame Fox turned and raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Tayna walked back into the sitting room. The morning sun cast shafts of light into the room from where Madame Fox had pulled back the curtain earlier, and dust motes danced in the warming rays. Tayna went and stood at the window hugging herself, and shut her eyes for a moment. The warmth of the sun felt very good. They all may think I'm a strong girl and that I can deal with this... and maybe I can, to a point, but I still need moments like this to recharge. It's been such a roller coaster since I started this. I've not really had much of a chance to think it all through. I've been making snap judgements and assumptions about everything, from him, Jeremiah, to what has been happening to me.
I know he was talking to me last night, I know I heard what he said, but I can't for the life of me remember what he said. I think it was something very important. No – I know it was something important. Damn! I wish I could remember... She opened her eyes again and looked out through the window. The house was quite a maze, but Tayna was sure she was looking at some kind of small side garden. It was very much like an English cottage garden she had seen once, in a magazine; The multitude of fragrant, pastel flowers, exploded from the flower beds, rambling at will over the ground, each other, and the nearly invisible path of lush, dew soaked grass. In the middle of the garden, on a slightly wider patch of green, was a stone bird bath and feeder. The sun shone down through the hedge surrounding the garden and rays of light lit up the bird bath. From the surrounding hedges birds, sparrows, blue tits, thrushes, chaffinches, robins and wrens, all flitted down to drink and eat. It must be nice to be a bird, Tayna thought, never having to worry about this or that, only caring about eating and drinking and playing in the sun. She sighed and lost herself in the pleasantries of the scene.

Presently she was woken from her revive buy a soft touch on her shoulder. She turned to see Jeremiah smiling at her.
"Breakfast is served Ma'am," he said bowing in mock imitation of Jeffreys. She giggled compulsively at the sight of him.
"Very good Jeeves," she responded, mock imperiousness in her tone. "Carry on."
"Yes, of course ma'am, this way please." Still giggling, she followed him from the sitting room to a dining room. Madame Fox was already seated and eating. Jeremiah walked to a chair and pulled it out, motioning for Tayna to sit. She did so, and he sat opposite her.
"Mmh," Madame Fox murmured. "A wonderful spread, a delectable banquet, a veritable feast. Bravo, Mr Jones, Bravo indeed. Who knew such a good cook hid under that mop of hair, that mane, that thatch?" Tayna saw Jeremiah blush as she reached to sample some of the 'delectable feast'. She took a bite of the egg. It was cooked to perfection; bright orange, warm, runny. She tried the hash brows, the sausage, the bacon, the black pudding, the bread, the beans, the coffee the orange juice. It was all just right, a picture-perfect meal. They ate in a companionable and appreciative silence until Madame Fox leant back in her chair and game a mighty sigh.
"Now," she said, "if that doesn't nail your feet to the floor, then I don't know what would. Bravo again, Jeremiah Jones, bravo." She gave a small applause, before leaning back forwards. "And now, if we are all done?" She glanced around the table. Tayna nodded that she had finished eating.
"I have had sufficient. Thank you Jeremiah, it was very pleasant." From under his curls Jeremiah blushed and nodded both his thanks and to indicate he had finished eating also.
"On to business then," Madame Fox continued. "-"
"What is it?" Tayna asked before noticing the small fluffy pink dragon that had randomly appeared in the middle of the dining table. "Oh," she said. "Er...?"
"Hi," said the small pink fluffy dragon brightly and maybe even perkily. "My name's Bob. I'm here as a filler moment while the author thinks of something decent to write, whilst still upping her word count. As soon as I vanish in a puff of pink fluffy smoke you'll forget I ever existed and then get on with whatever the author has decided to do with you."
"Can I ask a question before you go?" Tayna asked.
"Sure," said Bob, the pink fluffy dragon, still being perky.
"Why is it always a puff of smoke?"
"Ooh. I don't know," he said in a bright yet thoughtful voice. "I'll ask her for you," he said, before disappearing in a puff of pink glitter just for something different.
"Now then. Down to business, yes, down to business. Tayna, Jeremiah and I will go and gather my equipment. I will fetch the car keys if you could be a dear and go along to the garage and get the old dear of my car warmed up and ready to go. We will then proceed to the site I have in mind and we can begin the test. I will, of course, explain more once we get there. Sound good to everyone?" Both Tayna and Jeremiah nodded.
"Come along then, come along, chop chop," Madame Fox clapped her hands together and stood up. "I'll go and get the car keys while you two little lambs, little dears clean up, hum? Okay then, go to!" She added when they nodded their assent, and left the room to get the car keys. Tayna looked over to Jeremiah. He was already clearing the plates away, so she followed suit. Presently Madame Fox came back and handed a set of keys to Tayna.
"Go left from this room, take the second door off the stairs, then the first right, then right again, then the first left. Hop up and down on one leg until you reach a painting, face it, count to ten then go through the door behind you, and you'll see my beautiful old banger. Got all that?"
"Uh, I think so... Left, second door, right, right, left, painting, count to ten, turn around."
"Right. We will be along shortly," Madame Fox smiled brightly at her. "Come along then Jeremiah."
She fairly flounced out of the room, with poor Jeremiah in tow.
"Good luck," he whispered to her in passing.
"Thanks," she replied, "I think I may need it."

As it turned out Madame Fox's directions were spot on. Tayna duly went left until she reached a small spiral staircase leading down, then took the second door into a chilly stone corridor, took the first right then another right. Turning left she came to a much warmer corridor, despite also being made of stone, and hopped along a it until she found a painting of a gentleman on a horse with hunting hounds. Facing it she counted under her breath, "One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi, nine Mississippi, ten Mississippi!" She turned to find a door had indeed appeared behind her while she had been counting. Opening it she found herself in a huge hangar like room, full of old cars and motorbikes and even a small plane. Tayna groaned. She walked down the first aisle of cars looking at them, then she came across one that proclaimed it's self to be a Swallow. It was a pretty blue colour and she saw that it would comfortably hold all of them and Madame Fox's equipment. She just knew that it was the one.
Taking the key from her pocket she sat in the driver's seat and inserted the key into the ignition. It slid in. Always a good sign. She though. Tayna turned it. The Swallow started with a bit of a cough and a splutter but soon Tayna had it purring like a kitten. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the others to arrive, when she got the distinct feeling she was being watched. She gripped the steering wheel before suddenly turning around. A man was sat in the back seat, on the passenger's side. Tayna let out a yelp and jumped, before recovering herself.
"I'm terribly sorry," she said. "I didn't think anyone was in here. Are you a frie-"
"Don't go with her," the man said, cutting her off.
"I'm sorry, wha-?"
"She thinks you can help. You can't. Don't go with her."
"Look, I don-" Tayna suddenly sneezed, cutting herself off. When she had recovered again, she looked back to the man. "I don't know..." She trailed off. There was no long anyone sitting there. Odd. She thought. Just then there was a tap on the windscreen. She turned back and jumped again. "Gods, Jeremiah, didn't your mama ever teach you not to sneak up on people?"
"Oh, sorry," he said, not really sounding very sorry, "Did I startle you? Come and give me a hand with this junk." Tayna got out of the car.
"Where is herself?" she asked. "You know, Madame Fox?"
"Oh she had something to do before we left. Probably go to the little mad scientist's room," he grinned.
"Good," said Tayna, seriously. "Listen, I just had a.. a ghost I suppose, tell me not to go with Madame Fox to this place that we're going."
"Seriously," he asked. She nodded. "For real?"
"Yes for gorramn real! What are we going to do?"
"Did it give a reason why?"
"Uh, no. It said, and I quote: 'Don't go with her. She thinks you can help. You can't. Don't go with her.' What do you think?"
"I think if it - "
"He."
"If he didn't give a really explicit reason then we should go."
"But-" Jeremiah sighed and took hold of her shoulders, looking full into her face.
"Do you trust me?"
"Well, uh, I-"
"Do you trust me?" He asked again, softer, looking right into her eyes. She squirmed a bit under his gaze. She bit her lip.
"I guess..."
"I really think we need to go. I think this is another one of those things we just have to do."
"Huh!" she snorted, stepping back and pulled out of his grasp. "Easy for you to say, all you will have to do is stand and take notes I expect. I'm the one who's going to have the chronic sneezing fit!"
"No, I'll be with you," he touched her pouting face gently. "Promise. And I'll bring tissues," he smiled at her. She crossed her arms against him. And tuned away.
"I don't know. I just... I have a bad feeling about this now." All of a sudden they could hear singing.
"Well you'd better make up your mind soon, she's coming." Jeremiah told Tayna.
"I... I don't know. Gah! I... I need to take a moment." She stepped back again and swiftly turned on her heal. She quickly stepped away from the Swallow and wandered amongst the other cars. They can't make me do anything I don't want to do, no one can. She leant against the bonnet of another car, arms crossed, her back to Jeremiah and Madame Fox. She was close enough to hear that they were talking, far enough away to not be able to make out the words. I know I don't have to do this. I don't want to do it. I have such a horrible, twisted feeling in my gut about the whole thing... And yet he said... he said it was something that had to be done, to move on. How does he know? Do I really trust him? I'm sure he's keeping something from me, even after all this, all we've gone through. She put her face in her hands. What do I do? She felt what seemed to be a hand glide down her spine and something in her heart say, -Do what you think needs to be done-. And what is that? I guess I won't really know unless I go with them and find out what it is Madame Fox wants of me. Yes, I suppose that's what need to be done right at this moment. I guess I'm going then... She stood up and walked back to the little blue swallow. The car was already packed, Jeremiah sat in the back and Madame Fox behind the wheel. Tayna opened the passenger door without a words and slid in.
"Lets go," she said quietly.

They pulled up to a large formal manor, the kind usually reserved for dukes and earls, and got out.
"This is one of the most haunted places around here," Madame Fox explained as they got out and began walking to unpack the car. "Both the house and the garden are stocked to the brim with ghouls and ghosties. This is how I think we should work it, yes. Mr Jones will go with you Tayna, with a Geiger counter to measure if there are any spirits close to you, I will be able to see his reading also. We will set up a base camp in on of the ground floor rooms. Here take this," she handed Tayna and Jeremiah two piles of equipment, and shut and locked the car. "Follow me," she continued, proceeding to walk up the steps to the front door of the house. "I'll explain more once we are set up and inside."
"Uh, Madame Fox, does anyone live here?" Tayna asked, feeling like they were trespassing on private property.
"Oh, no. It's been empty for a while. Some organisation owns it, but they don't open it at the moment." Madame Fox stopped a turned to look at them. "Don't worry dear, I have gotten us permission to be here. It okay in that regard." She carried on walking up the steps to the door, which she opened with a large brass key. "Come along then, come along inside." She waited until they had all entered then shut the door. "I believe the kitchen would be a good place to set up. Yes. Follow me please." Madame Fox lead the way down winding corridors to a large stone kitchen, rather more modest than her own. Wow, this place is almost as much of a maze as Madame Fox's house, Tayna though as she was impressed.
Once everything had been set up to Madame Fox's satisfaction, she told them her plan.
"We'll do a sweep of the house now, so you can get the layout, then we'll do another tonight." Madame Fox told them. "I don't expect you find anything on this sweep."
"What exactly are we looking for? More to the point, who are we looking for?" Tayna asked. Madame Fox looked confused.
"No one dear," she replied. "This is simply a test to see if your sweet security guard, your dearest Joe, was right."
"Oh, I see," Tayna replied, slightly crestfallen. She had been hoping Madame Fox would give her a clue to what is is she couldn't help with, but that she had to do regardless to move on.
"Tayna, why don't you go and prepare for the sweep while I show to Jeremiah how to work the Geiger counter?"
"Prepare? I don't understand." Madame Fox turned back, and looked at her almost crossly. She sighed as if trying to explain a simple concept to a particularly stupid child.
"Most sensors, yes all but a few, require time to put their thoughts in order, to become one with the spirit world, yes, to get the feel for what it is they are looking for."
"Oh," Tayna said in a small voice. But then she became indignant as she cast her mind back to the warehouse. "Well, I must not be 'most sensors' I must be one of the few. I was running terrified through that warehouse, sneezing my head off. I'd hardly say my thoughts where 'in order', and I certainly didn't take time to 'become one with the spirit world'." I'll go and have a pee instead, if you don't mind," she announced, moodily, bitchily and with great venom [reader's choice] and walked stiffly back through the kitchen entrance and out into the rest of the house.
"Oh my, oh deary dear. What is wrong with that one?" Madame Fox asked Jeremiah once Tayna had left.
"I wouldn't mind her Madame. She doesn't much want to be here. She said a ghost told her she couldn't help you," Jeremiah explained in bored tones. Madame Fox suddenly went very pale.
"Oh, I see," she said quietly.

Suddenly there was the sound of a record needle being pulled sharply across a moving phonographic record disk. The scene of Jeremiah and Madame Fox sat in a large stone kitchen in a stately house somewhere in rural England froze and was rapidly replaced by a white ambient lit room - no doors or windows and no obvious light source.

In the middle of this room there is a desk. On the desk there sits a computer monitor, key board and mouse, a coffee machine, several unwashed but large mugs, a bag of sweets and a number of two litre soda bottles filled with a dark liquid. A mixture of smooth jazz and quiet classical music fill the room. At the desk is sat a young woman of about 20. As she sits, she types and snacks on the sweets and drinks from the mugs. She seems small, even though sat, and... plump. Yes, that's a nice way to put it. She has longish brown hair with hints of auburn, that currently is falling out of a pony tail, tendrils of hair framing her face. Presently she stops typing and lifts her head to show vibrant blue eyes, sensuous pink-lipped mouth, smallish nose and cute, slightly pointed ears. She smiles, as though she has seen a dear friend.
"Welcome reader!" she says brightly, but then turns serious. "You're probably wondering where we are, and why. Let me explain," she turns and leans forward, resting her hands on the desk in front of herself, pushing the food debris out of the way. "As to the where. Well. This is my mental cell. The place I've put myself so I can't get distracted by pretty things. Unfortunately is hasn't quite worked." She turns the monitor around. On the display is 6 vertical lines of cards and over them, one horizontal one. She shrugs."Yeah, solitaire. Gets every where, seems like. Anyway.
"Let's be frank," she continues. "I suck. I really, really suck at horror. I'm not scary, you're bored out of your tiny little mind, I can't make this section of the story work. So I'm giving up and moving on," she leans back. "Don't get me wrong, this sensor thing is an interesting concept, but one I can't make work right now. I don't have the time to research, to learn about horror, have the bejesuz scared out of me etcetera. So. Moving on to pastures fresh. Something I know I can do and not balls up in such a total manner. A genre I know like the back of my hand," She pauses. "And now, as they say, time for something compleetely different."
The room vanishes to be replaced by a new scene...

"Ooh kay," Tayna said. "What just happened?" She looked around. Some how the stately mansion made of grey stone had vanished and been replaced by a seeming forest of pinky purple trees and orange grass. Jeremiah was stood not far from her, also looking confusedly at his empty hand, in which, a few seconds ago, had been a yellow Geiger counter. He was wearing a pink bunny suit with a bow around his neck.
"Hey, Jeremiah," she called to him. He looked over and hopped towards her.
"Yes?"
"You're wearing a pink bunny suit with a very pretty bow around your neck," she pointed out helpfully. He looked down at himself.
"Why, so I am. You appear to be wearing a blue gingham dress with red shoes and a apron," he frowned. "You have bows on your socks," he added deprecatingly.
"We're being terribly calm about this aren't we?" Tayna commented. Jeremiah looked around.
"Yes. Yes we are," he said.
"Are we dreaming?"
"I don't think so."
"Then what's going on?"
"I think she's finally flipped her lid. Or is committing literary suicide..." Jeremiah muttered, squinting up at a V of flying pigs.
"Who's she?"
"The Cat's mother," replied a voice that was not Jeremiah's. They both turned to see a human sized chip with arms, legs and a cartoon-ish face stood next to a human sized nose with no visible means of propulsion.
"Who's the Cat's mother then?" asked the nose.
"She is," said the chip.
"Her?" the nose asked, pointing to Tayna. "A pleasure to meet you Mrs Mother Cat." The nose gave the impression of doffing it's cap and bowing slightly, without either moving or having a cap to doff. Tayna stared at them.
"She's terribly rude isn't she?" the nose commented. The chip nodded. Tayna shook herself.
"What?" She asked totally confused. "I am not the cat's mother! Nor do I intend to be," she glared at the chip and the nose. Jeremiah stepped slightly in front of her.
"My name is Jeremiah. And who might you two be?"
"I'm Chip," said the nose.
"And I'm Sniff," said the chip. Sniff and Chip? Bloody hell, what were you smoking? ran Jeremiah's thoughts. Literally. Both Tayna and Jeremiah looked in confusion at the string of small red letters with feet that ran between them and Sniff and Chip. The one at the end did a little hop-skip-and-a-jump. Jeremiah blinked, and tried to focus back on the chip and nose.
"The queen of hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer day?" Jeremiah ventured. The chip and the nose gave him a funny look [impressive since the nose didn't have a face].
"God, you're weird," said Sniff disparagingly. "Come on Chip." It turned to go, as Chip stuck its self up in the air at Jeremiah, then followed suit. Tayna and Jeremiah watched them skip away.
"I'm weird? I'm not the giant cartoon chip," he glanced at Tayna. She was staring after them.
"Tay, are you okay?" He asked.
"What. in the bloody. Fucking. Hell. Just. Happened?"
"Pass," he replied quickly. "Come on." He grabbed her hand, and tugged her into walking. They walked through the strange coloured forest until they came to a river. It was black, and seemed to fizz slightly. Tayna gave it a raised eyebrow, before casting up and down, looking for a bridge. Jeremiah looked at it suspiciously. He went to the water's edge and dipped a hand in. Since he wasn't in agonising pain he cupped the hand and lifted some of the liquid to his mouth to taste it. It seems to have the consistency of crude oil... Could it be? The red letters floated past him.
"That's starting to get irritating." He muttered, seemingly to himself. Ripples in the liquid just in front of him reformed its self into: ^.^ He plunged his hand through the image and brought a handful of the liquid up again to taste. It tasted like fruity cola. He stood, shook his hand off and brushed off his knees.
"It bloody well is as well," he muttered to himself, but Tayna heard.
"What is?"
"The river. It's a river of Darkliquid." Tayna looked over at the river, and noted that it was black, and fluidic.
"Yes. Well done. It does appear to be a river of dark liquid. How observant of you," she told him patronisingly.
"No, I meant -" He let out his breath in a rush. "Never mind, in-joke." Tayna gave him a look before shaking her head.
"I found a bridge. Up that way," she gesticulated upstream.
"Okay lets go. It's better than trying cross this," he gesticulated at the river. "We'd be stoned by the time we got the other side. Although, if the people, and I use that term advisedly, here are drinking this then it explains a lot..." This time it was Tayna's turn to catch hold of Jeremiah's hand and tug him into walking to the bridge. It turned out to be father than it looked, Probably due to some sadistic urge on the part of the author, Jeremiah though, then cursed as red letters proclaiming his thought spun around his ankle. He kicked them away before Tayna could see. When they arrived, the pair found that the bridge seemed to be made of sweets; it had nut brittle planks, candy canes holding up the hand rail that was sticks of rock. The whole structure was pinned together with extra long hard foam T rivets and tied with strawberry laces. Wow, it looks so nummy, Tayna though. And watched the little red letters run across the bridge.
"I'll thank you not to eat this bridge," drawled a polished British accent from somewhere.
"I wasn't going to eat it, I just thought it looked nice," Tayna said hotly, then realised she was arguing with nothing.
"Oh, well, in that case, come right across," said the voice again. Jeremiah grabbed Tayna's arm, and pointed. Hovering above the left railing was a pink fluffy pair of wings. Red letters reading 'My god, they're pink and fluffy?' ran across the bridge.
"Do you have a problem with my wings Jeremiah?" asked the voice acidly.
"Uh.." he said. As they watched, a snout undissolved in the air. It was pink, and furry, and didn't look very happy. "Pink is okay," Jeremiah tried to sound like he was telling the truth. "And furry is cool too I guess. So, ya know. I guess the two together are really okay."
"You just failed your deception roll sun-shine," the tone changed. "But, ah well. Not really my problem." The pink fluffy snout and wings where joined by the rest of the pink fluffy dragon. Tayna frowned.
"Have we met?" she asked it. The pink fluffy dragon looked shifty.
"No," it said.
"How else could you know his name?" The pink fluffy dragon gave Tayna a unimpressed look.
"Maybe I'm a mind reading pink fluffy dragon. Who's name, incidentally, is Bob."
"Bob? Are you really sure we haven't met before."
"Quite."
"But I seem to recall something about pink smoke..."
"Look, just never mind okay?" it said techily. "So, are you going to cross or not?" Tayna looked at Jeremiah. Jeremiah looked at Tayna. She shrugged.
"Sure," he said, and together they took a step forward... And absolutely nothing happened. No holes appeared in the bridge, no hands reached out and tried to pull them down. They didn't suddenly shoot up into the air on a spring loaded platform, though that might have been funny. The bridge didn't collapse, and the pink fluffy dragon didn't vanish from it's perch on the hand rail.
"Don't look so surprised," it drawled. "She isn't that bad."
"She? Why does everyone keep saying that. Who is 'she'!" Tayna said in exasperation.
"She, shi sho shum. Nee, nee a cup of rum! Follow it here, or follow it there," it replied in a sarcastic sing song voice. "Go on, be a doll. Take the dare." it whispered challengingly as it dissolved bit by bit. There was a small pop as it's wings vanished last. Tayna and Jeremiah looked at where it had been.
"My head hurts," Tayna whined. "I think I'm too sober for this right now."
"Yeah, I know how you feel," said the author.
"Lets keep going," Jeremiah said, completely ignoring the author and praying Tayna hadn't heard her. "Maybe we'll find a pub or something." Tayna sighed.
"Yeah okay." The took another step across the bridge and ended up on the other side. Tayna blinked.
"That was quick..." Jeremiah merely shrugged and they carried on.

They hadn't gone far when there came a yelling from the trees to one side.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! - Oh hello," said a gentleman in a green velvet dinner suit wielding a blunderbuss, as he hurtled out of the trees and stopped abruptly on the path in front of them. "Sorry to startle you, just trying to get hold of a thingumy for that girl, you know, wassisface." Tayna sighed. Fine, I'll play the stupid game, she though, and promptly wished she hadn't as little red letters wrapped themselves around her tummy. Jeremiah gave her a look. She gave him one back. It was very pleasant of them. Anyway, back to making sense.
"I'm sorry," Tayna said to the man, "I don't believe we've met wassisface. Nor have we seen a thingumy come this way. Can you point us in the direction of a pub. You see, we seem to have this overwhelming desire to get as drunk as hell," she said in her most polite conversational tones, and smiled winsomely at the gentleman in the green dinner jacket.
"Oh, that is a dratted thing," said the man, obviously perturbed, as he swing-clicked his fingers. "I believe the pub went that-a-way," he said, pointing back the way he'd come. He then looked at Tayna with a confused look on his face. "Young lady, why are the words 'I'm going insane' hanging from you ear?"
"Huh?" Tanya put her hand up and wrenched the letters from their precarious position on her ear and shoulder, then released them on the ground where they huddled behind her foot. "Oh well, that's probably because I am," she grinned. "Right, well thank you sir," she told the man, "if we see a thingumy, we'll send it back your way. Come along Jeremiah." She started to walk away, down the path of brush that the green velvet dinner suited man carrying a blunderbuss had made. Jeremiah dutifully followed.
"Will you? Won't you? Will you take the dare?" the man called after them. Tayna stopped in her tracks. "Won't you? Will you? Won't you take the dare?" he repeated. Tayna turned back.
"What dare?"
"The plaid hippo knows the way, just get on the first rainbow and then it's straight on till morning once you've hit the duck." Tayna frowned at the man for a moment before smiling in a slightly too bright kind of way.
"'Kay, thanks!" she said brightly and waved back to the man, before turning and walking away.

As they continued walking, Tayna sang a silly, light hearted tune.
"Uh, are you okay?" Jeremiah asked. Tayna stopped walking.
"Wheh?" she asked. "Of course I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled at him, a little manically, he though, then carried on walking.
"I was just wondering... You seem very... happy. Cheerful. Bright. Bouncy. Bubbly." The way he said it indicated he didn't consider this to be a good thing.
"But those are good things to be, surely?" she said. He looked at her, trying very hard not to think She's finally snapped...
"It's just..." he stopped walking, and looked at his hands. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. You seem too happy, if you get what I mean. You should be freaking out, curling in a ball and rocking back and forth. This place... Hell even I'm starting to have trouble staying calm here. It's really is too fucked up." He glanced up at her. Tayna was stood a little way off, framed perfectly in the trees, her head cocked to one side like a curious dog. He blinked and suddenly saw her. She fitted right into the landscape, this funky landscape of orange grass and purple trees and red and blue bushes. This world there everything was back-to-front, and inside-out and upside-down and pulled through some other fourth physical dimension. He knew that she hadn't when they arrived. He wondered what had changed about her. "How are you being so cheerful now? What has changed?" Tayna smiled and walked back to him. She took his face in her hands.
"Honey," she said, "once you learn to go with the flow, everything just gets so much easier." Impulsively she kissed him full on the mouth. When she drew back, she gave him a cute little smile and giggled. Tayna drew back and started to flounce off down the path.
"Come on," she called, "We don't want to be late, now do we?"
"No... Of course not," he said having no idea what they would be late for, but walking on anyway. "What are we going to be late for?"
"The rainbow silly," she dashed back and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a run. "Come on!" she cried. She pulled him through the undergrowth faster and faster, laughing with the sheer delight of running. At first he was confused and scared, feeling sure something terrible was just around the corner, that they would trip and go sprawling or some such other. Then a voice in his heart said, -dude, lighten up!- He suddenly felt different, felt like a clasp had been lifted from his heart. His eyes widened and for the second time that genre he began to really see. Her laughter was infectious, the colours of this world astoundingly bright, the adrenaline rush exhilarating. As they raced along he felt like he could be flying.
Suddenly a clearing came rushing into view, full of lush looking grass. Tayna, with a joyfully insane laugh, practically launched herself at it, dragging Jeremiah through the air with her. They landed in a pile on the grass giggling like children. As the giggles died down, Tayna rolled onto her back staring at the yellow sky and a V of flying pigs. She sighed happily. Jeremiah rolled over on his side watching her, one hand acting as a support between his head and the ground. They lay like this in silence before Tayna broke it.
"You know, I'm actually glad we came here now," she said. "I don't think I've felt this free, this relaxed in a long time. When I was back home, I was always so highly strung, so worried, about everything, even the things I had no control over. But here, it's like someone's guiding my steps. All I have to do is relax, accept it, let the whole thing just flow over me, through me. I think if I tried to resist this place then I really would go mad. Ya know?"
"Yes. Actually, I think I do," Jeremiah told her.
"It's like being a kid again, this feeling of absolute trust," she turned her head so she was looking at him. "Or if you want it another way, I think got religion." She turned back to looking at the cerise sky.
"Tayna." Jeremiah said. She turned back to him.
"Yes?"
"I... I think..."
"GRAAAAH!" They both sat up very quickly.
"What the hell was that?" Tayna asked.
"I don't know," Jeremiah replied. Then, through the trees they could see a huge figure coming towards them. Jeremiah scrambled to his feet.
"Come on!" he said urgently. Tayna was also trying to get her feet. Jeremiah took her hands and tried to pull her up, but they were too late. From the trees emerged the Jabberwocky.
"What? Hey, no, stop," cried Jeremiah. "That's blatant plagiarism!" Okay, so it wasn't the Jabberwocky, it was the... uh... Jabberwaky?
"Oh come on! You can do better than that. God, what happened to originality?" Okay fine. It's the thingumy. Happy?
"Yes." Can we carry on with the story?
"Okay" The scene resumed.
From the trees emerged the Thingumy. It was really really tall and was mostly covered in fur. It had a fish- or dragon-like tail and it's legs seems to be reptilian, like a dinosaur's. It's head held goat-ish horns and a mane, and it's ears hung like a lop rabbit's, with little tufts on the end. On it's hands where three claws and two lobster-like pincers. It's main body was shaped like a bear, but had, for some reason, hedgehog quills on it's back.
"Hullo," it said. Tayna whimpered quite audibly. "Oh now, don't be being scared. I ain'ts about to hurt you." It's voice was thunderingly melodious, a deep baritone, though it made the Thingumy sound quite stupid. "I just wanted to ask if fat nutter with fe blunderbuss had gorne." Jeremiah recovered quickly.
"Yes, yes he has. Went that-a-way, in fact," he pointed back the way they had come.
"Oh fank goodness for fat. Nutter fought I was some kind of muse. Can't imagine how he got fat idea." it scratched it's head. Tayna had also recovered by now.
"Uh, are we on the right road to either catch a rainbow or get to a pub?" she asked. "Or do you know anything about a dare?"
"Duh..." it thought for a moment. "Nope. You needs to find fe plaid hippo to catch a rainbow. But I fink there is a hover-horse stop just down the way, and yes, fere is a pub at the end of fis road, and no I don't fink so... Sorry."
"Okay fa- thank you." Jeremiah said, and to Tayna, "Come on." He took her hand and they began to walk away.
"Bye-bye," said the Thingumy waving. Tayna waved goodbye back.

"Well, that was interesting," Tayna observed brightly as they carried on. "What was it you where going to say though?" Jeremiah flushed.
"It doesn't matter now Tay."
"Oh. Okay," she sounded a bit disappointed. "Um, why have you started calling me 'Tay'?"
"It seemed like a good idea? I think sounds kinda cute too."
"So does that mean I have to call you 'Jer' now?"
"Not if you don't want to," he shrugged.
"Good. That just sounds stupid." They walked in silence again.
"I wonder what a Hover-Horse stop looks like?" Tayna wondered out out loud. "And I'd still like to know what you where going to say Jeremiah. And no one has told me who 'She' is yes either. Or what this dare is. I wonder if it's going to be dangerous because I'm not sure even in my enlightened state that I'd like to go and do something dangerous I mean I've still got my sense of self preservation you know or maybe it will be something silly like drinking lots when we get to the pub I hope it's that that would be cool because I still really feel that need to get completely utterly and blindingly paralytic drunkenly pissed."
"Tay, you are rambling like a NaNo author jazzed up on too much coffee. Stop it."
"I'm sorry." A pause. "Why does that bother you?"
"What does?"
"When I ask you about what you were starting to say before that... thingumy disturbed us?"
"It doesn't," Jeremiah responded shortly. "Could we please drop this?"
"Okay then." A pause again. "So, who is she? Is she someone you love with all your heart and soul and stuff or is she just some girl you know or is she maybe older than your our age, is she your mother or grandmother or some great ancient aunt is she pretty? I bet she's pretty you seem like the guy who'd go for a pretty girl although I think every guy wants a pretty girl or at least someone who he considers to be pretty and sexy and stuff-"
"Gorramnit! Shut up!" Jeremiah exploded, and not in a happy, fun way or a dirty way or a literal way. He was really uber pissed. They both suddenly stopped, Jeremiah because he wanted to shout, and Tayna with surprise. Conveniently they had stopped at the edge of the forest, in a rather open area.
"'She'," Jeremiah continued, "is not my aunt or my mother or my grandmother. Nor is she my true love, whom I love with all my heart and soul and whatever shit you just spouted. She's the gorramn author of this novel that you and I are stuck in at the moment! And as of the end of this very sentence she still has thirty three thousand, six hundred and forty-eight words to go!" Tayna blinked a little.
"What?"
"You heard me! She pulled us into her story for some crappy writing competition! And it's her who's made this world and it's her who's messing with us, poking the proverbial stick through the cage at us, throwing stupid situations at us to see what we'll do! Everything that has happened is her fault! Everything!" Tayna's eyes went very wide, and she went ever so slightly paler than usual. Her mouth opened ever so slightly, making her face into a rictus of shock. A small strangled expulsion of air escaped her agape mouth.
"Oh my. I see you finally told the girl. She's going to be terribly unhappy now," drawled that sarcastic and patronising English voice. Jeremiah was stood panting slightly due to his little outburst, arms tight to his sides, fists clenched. He ignored the voice, still only just realising exactly what he'd said and how he'd said it. Tayna continued to stare at him in horror. Jeremiah couldn't decide if she was about to faint or if she had just shut down completely. "You've given a major plot point away. Of course, this one's going to be unhappy too. Two women unhappy and at odds with you," the voice continued, being joined by a pair of wings that floated on a branch to the side. "You really aren't a very cleaver boy are you?"
"You can shut the fuck up too," Jeremiah growled at the invisible Bob.
"Ooh, touchy," the dragon, who was still pink and fluffy, muttered sardonically, but shut up none the less. They all stood silently staring at each other, Jeremiah still too angry at Tayna and pissed off with himself to move, Bob the pink fluffy dragon because he was told to, and Tayna... Well Tayna seems to be in shock right now. Yep, none of them are moving. *taps fingers against keyboard* Nope, still not doing anything. Oh for Goodness sake!

For no apparent reason [other than he pissed off the author by giving away the whole plot] Jeremiah turned into a sheep. A Dorset Horn, to be exact.
"Ba Baa!" he said.
"You can say that again," said Bob the pink fluffy dragon.
"Ba Baaa!" Jeremiah retorted angrily. Red lights switched them selves on in his fleece to read, 'Oh hell!' swiftly followed by the words 'Shut up!'
"Well it's you're own fault," said Bob the pink fluffy dragon in unsympathetic tones. His expression changed. "Oh goody," he said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes before continuing as though he were reciting something. "By the pricking of my wings, something piratical this way sings. And by the sound of it large and possibly deadly," he added as vibrations of something large and highly possibly deadly could be felt.
"Ba ba!" said Jeremiah.
"You couldn't have been more clichÉ if you'd tried." Bob the pink fluffy dragon told him.
"Ba baa."
"Well considering I seem the only one who can talk right now, I wouldn't have though she would want me to. Anyway. I suggest we get out of here pretty smartish."
"Brrr. Ba, baa baa ba. Baa baa baaaaa."
"Yes I imagine it would be," Bob the pink fluffy dragon commented with a smirk. If sheep can glare, Jeremiah did so. He then waddled as fast as he could to Tayna's side and stuck is nose on her hand.
"Meeeh! Baaa! Baa baaa ba baaa baa!" The lights in his fleece suddenly switched on to read: 'Tayna! Come on! We have to get out of here!" She didn't even flinch. "Ba ba! Baa ba ba baa ba ba?"
"We could leave her here?" suggested Bob the pink fluffy dragon.
"BAA!"
"Calm down! It was only a suggestion. I'm hardly going to help kill off the female main character of this scatty novel, am I?"
"Baa," Jeremiah said sulkily. "Ba baa, baa ba ba baa ba ba?"
"Try and wake her up would seem like a god thing to do."
"Ba Ba Baa Ba?"
"You mean you can't think of a way to do it yourself?"
"Ba-" Jeremiah the sheep blushed. "BAA! Ba baa ba baa!"
"Then I'll do it!
"BAA!"
"Well we can't leave her here. You'll have to do something."
"Baaaa!" wailed Jeremiah and blushed again. Bob the pink fluffy dragon sighed.
"Just do it. I expect you'll be going it to her soon enough anyway..." said Bob the pink fluffy dragon smirking again.
"BAA!" said Jeremiah in embarrassed anguished tone. The rumbling seemed to have gotten louder.
"Ah well, looks like I'll have to go now," said Bob the pink fluffy dragon as he began vanishing. "See you soon.."
"BAA!" Jeremiah yelled at the now empty space. "Ba baaa..." he muttered, then crossed to stand in front of Tayna. His head was conveniently at the same hight as her crotch. "Ba baa baa ba," he said as the words 'she's going to kill me.' turned up on his fleece. Gently he stuck his snout in her crotch, nuzzled a bit and then snorted with all his strength.
"Whu-" Tayna said groggily, as though coming from a deep sleep. "Mmm," she continued, in a tone that seemed to say 'that was nice...'. Then she looked down, which was a bit silly, considering. "A-a- AAAAA!" she screamed, leaping backwards. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! What the fucking bloody cursing arsed weaselling hell?"
"Baa," Jeremiah said plaintively. "Baa! Baa ba baaaa!" He added a little more urgently. He waddled around behind her and head-butted her bottom in an effort to get her moving.
"Wah! Get off me!" she yelled and jumped away in a rather amusing fashion.
"Baa!" said Jeremiah encouragingly. "Baa!" Suddenly the ever-present rumbling seemed to be rather more loud than it had been. He turned his head. "Maaar?" There was a dust cloud fast approaching them. It looked very animÉ- or cartoon-esqu for some reason. He didn't pause to consider it, but waddled forward to make Tayna move again. She saw him coming, and put her hand out.
"Listen you perverted sheep, stop trying to ... whatever you're trying to do, okay! Just piss off. I am having a supremely bad day." She walked off. The wrong way. "Baa! Ba baaaa!" said Jeremiah in desperation. He started to waddle after here, but she walked too fast. He sat down and wailed, in sheep style, at the sky. Tayna stopped, very suddenly and stood very still. When she spoke, her voice burned with anger.
"Jeremiah?" she said very slowly.
"Ba." He said sadly. He saw suddenly she was shaking, not cold type shaking or tired or caffeinated shaking, or even scared trembling. This was white hot suppressed anger shaking. "Ba baa..." he mutter-groaned, which would be sheep for 'Oh shit.'
"You... you snorted in my crotch." He could hear the gritted-ness of her teeth. "You... you...!" 'I had to,' he tried to explain. 'I needed to wake you from your shock because the pink fluffy dragon said there was something dangerous coming . I'm only a sheep, I couldn't think of any other way. I swear to god that I didn't want to do it, and I knew you you would be mad. I'm so very very sorry! Please, believe me. And if at all possible, don't hurt me!' Of course, because he was still a sheep, all that came out was,
"Ba baa ba,' he tried to explain. 'ba baaa ba baa ba baa baa baa baaa ba baa baa baaa baa baa baa baaaa baaa baa. Ba baa ba baa, ba baaa baa ba baa baa ba. Ba baaa ba ba baa ba baa baa ba ba ba ba ba baa baa baa baaa ba baa. Ba ba baa baa baa! baaa, baa ba. Ba ba ba ba baaa, baa baa ba!"
"Shut. Up." She still had her back to him, but it was bowed, and he could see her fists clenched tightly to her sides. "I have nothing to say to a pervert and a liar and a scum bag like you. As of this moment I never want to see you again. You stay away from me. I'm getting out of this hell you and your little author friend call a novel." He stood up, and tried to walk towards her.
"Baa." He said quietly.
"Stay away!" She turned suddenly. "I said to stay away! Leave me alone! God damn you! I hate you. Understand that? Hate! HATE!" she screamed at him. "You lying filthy cack bag. Mother raping son of a BITCH! You screwed with me! You've sent me over the edge. How dare you! HOW DARE YOU!" There was such venom, pain and anger in her voice that Jeremiah was forced physically back a step. "I know what you wanted to say. I know-"

Suddenly there seemed to be a ship bearing down on them, with cries of 'Yarr' and 'Avast' emanating from it. They both looked up as the ship drew just between them.
"Ahoy down there!" Called a voice that seemed to be attached to a huge tricorn hat.
"Baa." called back Jeremiah. Tayna glared at him, before calling back herself.
"Ahoy yourself." she said, annoyed at being interrupted mid tirade. They watched as a rope was launched over the side of the ship and snaked it's way down towards them. It was swiftly followed by the large hat, complete with a figure in a crimson suit with gold trim and huge black boots. The figure slid with hand-blistering speed down to the ground and landed with a little jump. It turned around.
"Now then, what have we 'ere? A couple o' little fishies it seems," the pirate walked up to Tayna. "A pretty little fishy, n'less." Tayna was astonished to see the the pirate was a woman. She was tall and busty, and had hair almost as black as Tayna's own. Tayna was too astonished to resist when the pirate cupped her chin and lifted it. "Oh, my," breathed the pirate. "Such a little beauty." The pirate brought her face close to Tayna's. "Want to join me?" She asked seductively.
"What?" Asked Tayna, astonished by one, the fact this pirate was a female; two, that she had out right called Tayna pretty; and three, that she was being asked to join a pirate crew. The pirate drew away, stood back and looked Tayna over.
"I asked you, my pretty, if you wanted t'join my crew. Come aboard, sail with us, see things you've never dreamt of!" she flung her arms into the air in a dramatic flourish.
"I've dreamt of a lot of things..." The pirate woman gave her a look.
"D'you mind, I'm trying to be theatrical here?"
"Oh. Sorry."

The moment Jeremiah had seen the pirate was a woman, a bad feeling had stirred in one of his guts [sheep have four, did you know? It's because they have a Ruminant Digestive System, like cows. It's because they eat grass. It's very hard to digest grass, that's why they have four stomachs, so they can 'ruminate' and digest it properly. Sheep taste nice. Anyway]. He waddled over to them, and the sight of the pirate woman cupping Tayna's chin made jealousy stir in his heart. No! He though. I love her! And now he could hear Tayna being asked to join this bouffant woman and her crew of likely-ladies. Dammit, no! No, no, no! I don't care that you hate me Tayna, I love you. I've loved you since the end of the romance bit, please don't leave!
"Baa! Baaaa!" he said desperately, and waddled closer.

"There is even room for pets." The pirate said, glancing at the sheep bleating at them.
"That is not my pet." Tayna said coldly. "It can stay."
"So you're joining us?"
"Yes." Tayna nodded definitely, not facing the pirate, but Jeremiah the sheep. "If you will have me aboard your fine vessel, then I will join you with pleasure." The last word she spat vindictively at Jeremiah, and continued in the same vein, every word meant as a barb at him. "It is my insurmountable desire to sail with you and see things that I have possibly never dreamt of."
"Oh goody!" the pirate woman said happily. "We'll have such fun." She smiled happily. "Lower the ladder, ladies!" she called up to her ship. Tayna heard a clunk as a rope ladder was throw over next to the rope and bounced against the ship. "Come on then, my pretty fish!" the woman called to Tayna.
"Just a sec." she called back over her shoulder, before kneeling in front of Jeremiah.
"The dragon was right you know, you really aren't very cleaver. Good bye Jeremiah." She stood very stiffly and brushed herself off. With out another glance at him, she turned on her heal and climbed aboard the pirates' ship. Jeremiah felt as though Tayna had slapped him. She may as well have done. He was stunned, her last words ringing in his cute sheepy ears, 'good bye Jeremiah... good bye.' As the ship started to move off again, all he could think was, but... I love you...

As she was helped over the side of the ship, Tayna was greeted with many cries of 'Hello' and 'Avast' from the other crew members, all who seemed to be rather attractive women of varying ages all dressed in piratical outfits, and a parrot saying, 'Good day! Good day!'. She waved and called back,
"Hey, hello." The woman who had come to get her pulled Tayna to the front of the ship.
"Attention crew!" she called out. The women pirates all stopped what they were doing and turned to look. "I want you all to say hello to-" She gave Tayna a pointed look.
"Tayna." she supplied.
"This pretty little fish," continued the pirate-ess, "is the newest member of our crew, so I want you all to be nice to her!"
"Aye aye Cap'n!" responded the crew enthusiastically, before resuming their duties.
"Wow." Said Tayna, "I didn't realise you were the captain."
"Yep, that's me. Cap'n Elizabeth Rimstone. Liz to my friends, pain to my enemies." She smiled in a jovial fashion, before giving Tayna a long slow look up and down. "But! First things first. Time to get you kitted up. Tegan!"
"Aye Cap?" called a girl who looked to be in her early teens, running up to them and saluting.
"Tegan, I want you to take Tayna below and get her something that's a bit more... in the spirit of adventure."
"Aye Aye Cap!" said Tegan, taking Tayna by the hand. "C'mon lass, lets get you outta that silly frock." She pulled Tayna on to the lower deck and lead her down several hatchways to what appeared to be the sleeping quarters and mess area.
"Oh, I don't know." commented Tayna, "It's not as bad as some of the things I've been wearing recently..."
"Oh like what?" Tegan asked curiously.
"Well, uh.." Tayna said, suddenly embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Tegan put her hand to her mouth. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm terribly curious about clothes you see. My mother was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans. But my father was a gamblin' man down in New Orleans. I kinda got the clothing bug, though, which is why I sort out what people wear when they're new, see?"
"Yes, actually, I think I do." Just let it flow through you, over you. Tayna though. You can still reclaim some semblance of the peace you had before the thingumy turned up...
"Please stand here." Tegan said. They had arrived at a sectioned off room full of clothes rails. Tegan moved Tayna to stand on a small platform in the middle of the room. "Thank you. Now lets see..." The girl stood contemplating Tayna's features for quite a while, before she suddenly punctured the air with her finger. "Yes, I can see it now!" She began rushing around, grabbing things from off clothing rails and out of boxes. Finally she handed Tayna a pile of clothes. "You can change behind that screen there." Tegan said, pointing. Tayna took the clothes and, moving behind the said screen, proceeding to change.
"So what have you been wearing recently?" Tegan asked as Tayna changed.
"Well, to start with I was just in jeans and a sweater, but then I was wearing some very revealing leather armour and a cloak. Next was the worst," she paused to cringe. "A pink and white dress, full of bows and frills with an extremely low square neck. God it was horrible."
"And what next?" asked Tegan.
"Are you writing this down?" Tayna asked suspiciously. Tegan's eyes widened in alarm. She hastily began to hide her notebook and quill pen, before realising that Tayna couldn't actually see her.
"No," she said.
"Okay then," Tayna resumed dressing into the new clothes. "Well, then there was a pretty austere black jeans and black polo-neck, with a huge silver cross. That was pretty comfortable actually. And then this." She threw the blue gingham dress over the screen. "So, why are you writing this down?"
"I like to hear about what people have worn. I make all these clothes myself, so I take inspiration where ever I can get it. You'd be amazed at what some of the girls here have worn, where they've come from an' all." Tayna stepped out from behind the screen, tying a waistcoat.
"I though you said you weren't writing this down," she commented, grinning.
"Urk!" said Tegan. "I'm sorry!"
"Chill, it's okay. It feels kinda nice to talk about these shitty past few days. So, how do I look?" she said, spinning, arms outstretched.
"Wow," said Tegan, impressed, "oh gods, I'm a flippin' genius." Tayna laughed. "You look.. you look... Aww hell, you look absolutely flippin' gorgeous, no joke!" Tayna laughed again.
"You really think so." Tegan nodded until her head seemed about to fly off.
"Uh huh. Take a peak." she gesticulated to a full length mirror in the corner. "Wow, Cap sure knows how ta pick 'em." Tayna walked over and looked at herself. Tegan was right, she was gorgeous from top to bottom. Her hair was still in pig tails, but that didn't matter. She wore a white sail shirt, tucked into tight leather trousers. Around her wrists where bracers designed to keep the shirt in check, as was the tight leather waistcoat. Around her neck still hung the silver cross she had found with her on waking in the warehouse. Madame Fox must have put it on a chain for me, and Jeremiah put it on me while I was sleeping. She touched it gently, finding herself missing them slightly. Around here waist hung what she presumed would be a sword belt, however it was minus it's sword or scabbard. On her feet she had bucket boots, a classical staple of pirate dress. All in all, she did look fantastic. Gently she tugged at the bows holding her prig tails in place and hair cascaded it's way down he back and over her shoulders. Some how, it still looked fabulous, despite having no brush or washing facilities for most of the novel.
"Wow, what a lot of hair!" Tegan exclaimed. "You'll have to keep that under control. I have just the thing. Uh..." She looked around at the boxes, before jumping at one and rummaging through it. "Here we go! Let's try this." She walked over and jumped on the little pedestal. "Come here please." Tayna did so. Tegan motioned for her to turn around, spinning her hand in a circular motion, and Tayna did so. Carefully Tegan looped a brightly coloured peacock-blue scarf around Tayna head tying it at the back. A few carefully positioned hair grips later and it was in place.
"That's much better!" said Tegan. Tayna turned to her. "Wow, is that the cross you were telling me about?" Tegan asked. Tayna reached up and touched it again.
"Yeah," she said, slightly sad.
"It's real pretty. May I?" she asked. Tayna nodded her consent. Tegan picked it gently off her chest. "Wow, that's quite Gothic. Hey, there's an inscription on it."
"What? Where? What does it say?"
"Right here." Tegan pointed. "It says Deus ex machina. That sounds weird. I wonder what it means." She looked up at Tayna's face, but her eyes where far away.
"It means 'God in the Machine'," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes.
"Tayna? What's wrong." Tegan asked concerned looking straight into Tayna's face.
"I..." Tayna turned away. "It's... it's nothing. Really." she swiped at her eyes.
"Tayna..." Tegan put her hand on Tayna's shoulder. Tayna sniffed loudly before turning back, smiling. "Really, it's nothing. Just got a little emotional there, remembering some old... acquaintances." Tegan didn't look convinced. "But, it doesn't matter any more. It really doesn't. That's the whole point of coming aboard, to get away and forget. Move on." She tried to sound bright, cheerful, but she knew she sounded off. But if Tegan thought so, she didn't say so, or press for any more details.
"Okay then..." She said instead. "If you are sure." Tayna nodded. "Okay then!" Tegan continued. "lets go see Serra. She deals with weapons. Okay?" Tegan smiled so brightly at her, that Tayna felt she could do nothing but smile brightly back.

Meanwhile, back with the sheep. Jeremiah sat, bleating sadly at the swiftly vanishing ship. He couldn't believe what he'd done. He'd driven her away. Him. Not the Author. She hadn't intended to tell Tayna about the whole thing until they were well on their way to Happy Ever After. He'd really screwed things up this time.
"Oh for crying out loud!" Drawled a familiar pair of pink fluffy wings in front of him. "You really are most pathetic." The wings where swiftly followed by the rest of Bob, the pink fluffy dragon. "If you really love her so much, then stop sitting there bleating and go after her."
"Baa." said Jeremiah.
"I'm afraid I can't." said the pink fluffy dragon, picking at his claws. "Surly you haven't forgotten the rules? She won't let me go away until I convince you to stop sitting there and further the plot." Bob, who is pink and fluffy, stopped picking at his claws and looked at Jeremiah. He sighed. "Look, all you have to do is get up of your woolly arse and go after the ship."
"Baa." said Jeremiah mournfully. Pink and fluffy Bob put a hand to his head, and turned to address the fourth wall.
"Look, this isn't going to work." He said, pinkly and fluffily. "He's obviously not going to stop being a pathetic baby for a long while. Why don't we leave him at it, and you an I can going and explore this bit of the novel for a while, okay?" in a most pink and fluffy way, Bob nodded. "Okay then." he said, and started off in a random direction. No not that one, the other one. "Sorry." Bob the fluffy and pink dragon said over his shoulder, and set off in the right random direction.

Bob, the pink fluffy dragon wandered around looking at the aspects of the surrealist genre. There where teapots that pushed hostess trolleys with miniature people who spat scalding hot drinks. There was a man taking a shower under a sunflower, it's leaves acting as a privacy screen. He even managed to find the plaid hippo-potenuse, who was handing tickets out for a rainbow ride. And then, because he was feeling silly and was eager for the author to finish this ridiculous novel, he found a meadow that conveniently had a soft gauzy light, with lots of very pretty wild flowers and flounced through it for a while yelping in pain every so often as the wild flowers bit at his heals [well, they were wild flowers]. Ah good, he thought to himself when he had finished flouncing and had gotten hold of some cream for the bites, That's used up about one hundred and fifty two words then.

Meanwhile, back with the sheep. I really, really have messed this up though Jeremiah the sheep. I've driven Tayna away. I hurt her so much. What am I going to? Even if I did chase after her, she'd still be so angry she wouldn't let me come with in ten feet of her. There's no point any more. All that stuff she said about the flow of the story... I've completely ruined it for her. She's never going to want to see me again. Just as I was starting to get something from her, she was starting to really trust me, to really trust where all this was going. I should have told her about the Happy Ever After. I should have... But it's all too late now. All too late... He lay down and uninvited tears pricked his eyes. He made a sheep-like sob. Far away in her office, the author sighed and realised she had acted very rashly. Unnoticed by Jeremiah, his snout receded into a nose and mouth, his legs and his arms grew longer. He shed wool to leave pale pink skin. His ears shortened, and his 'other' bits took on a more human aspect. Tears still dribbled down his face, but his sobs came out more human than sheep bleat-sobs. Unconsciously realising his resumed status as a human, he curled into a little pink and naked ball, and cried with a vengeance. Presently he felt a hand on his back, and a voice whispered into his heart.
-Hush, Jeremiah, hush. It's all going to be okay. You'll still have Happy Ever After. I promise.- He felt the gentle, ghostly, touch of lips on his cheek. Startled, he sat up and looked around, only to find there was no one there. It was then he noticed he was naked.
"Yaah!" He yelped and tried to cover himself up, despite the fact that there was no one around. A little way away from him, hung up on a convenient tree, was a pirate outfit. He frowned, confused and a little appalled, but then suddenly Tayna's words came back to him: let it flow over you, through you. Just accept. He smiled, shrugged to himself and wiped his face before going and putting the costume on.
When he had finished, he turned to find a full length mirror stood behind him. He looked himself over starting from the top down.
He wore a strangely tight cream shirt laced from his belly-button and a blue frock coat with gold trim, with a huge belt holding up a pair of blue-black leather trousers, also strangely tight. On his feet, flat soled bucket boots. With the outfit came a flint lock pistol, which he thrust through the belt, and a stone heart shaped pendant on a thong of leather inscribed with the words 'Deus ex machina'. He grinned.
"'God in the machine' indeed." He muttered to himself before tying it around his neck. All decked out, and his confidence buoyed by the outfit, he started in the direction that the ship had gone, resolving to find her. He took one step forward, before a twinge of uncertainness twanged in his heart made him stop. What if she had really meant it about never wanting to see him again? Should he really go chasing after her, only to make her hate him even more? He sat on a convenient rock. But if he didn't, how could she see that he really loved her and wanted her back? What was it the pink fluffy dragon had said? Oh yeah: if you really love her, stop bleating and go after her! He looked up. I love you Tayna, I do. I really do. I do! He stood up. He had no idea how to find her but that was okay. He was going to have a happy ever after, no matter what.
"Just walk." He said to himself. "Just walk. You'll find her. All you have to do is trust, and walk."

"Serra! Serra!" called Tegan sing-song like, bouncing into another room on the ship with Tayna in tow. "Serra! Are you here? Cap wants us to kit the new fish out. I done clothes, but she needs a weapon. Serra! Where are you?" Tayna looked around. This room was similar to the other room, but darker, much darker. As a consequence, the flames from Tegan's lamp and the one sat in the middle of the room cast playful, lambent light, highlighting gleaming weapons on racks around the room. There were swords and daggers, flint-lock guns of all types, from pistols to rifles with bayonets, nets and maces and even a couple of tridents. Strangely this ever reflecting light gave the room a warm feel. Tegan walked further into the room, so Tayna followed.
"Watch your step," Tegan warned. "There are always whet stones and cleaning rags and all sorts of other stuff on the floor. Cap'd be real angry with me if I got your neck broke the first day." Tegan flashed a smile back at Tayna, her voice hushed. Tayna understood why. The atmosphere of the room made you want to whisper, like anything louder or brasher would upset the weapons. So Tayna was very surprised and jumped nearly two foot off the ground when Tegan screamed out,
"SERRA!" A figure moved in the shadows at the back of the room as a shoe came flying out towards them. Tegan ducked nimbly, as if she had a lot of practice at it. Tayna ducked to one side, the shoe coming scarily close to her head.
"Feh christssake girl, I heard ya the first fifty times! Jeez Louise." into the light came a small dwarfish woman, brandishing a broad sword, Tayna noted with alarm.
"'m sorry Serra." Tegan said in a small voice. "But you never answered, so I thought-"
"Never be mindin' what ya though. What is it ya be wantin'?"
"Cap wants you to fit our the new girl with a weapon."
"Right then. C'm here then gel." Tegan pulled Tayna forward. Serra frowned, humming and hawing as she looked Tayna up and down. Suddenly she stopped and looked pointedly at Tegan. "What're ya still standin' there for gel? Ain't you got nothing better to be doin'? Go on, git!" Tegan jumped.
"Yes Serra!" she said. "See ya later!" she said to Tayna she she shot out of the room.
"Ha! Silly wee one that." Serra smiled at Tayna. "Now then, let's see what ah can do for yuz." Tayna was startled at the sudden change in Serra, and her face must have displayed as such since Serra commented,
"Oh, don't be lettin' me gruff exterior confuse ya gel. I'm always like that to the wee ones. Toughens em up, see?" Serra said.
"I guess."
"Ah, quit ya worritin' gel. I'd never hurt a fly-a them. Cap't knows I'm only messin'. And most been on this ship long enough to know what I'm really like." Tayna relaxed.
"I see." she said.
"Now then, you got any h'experience wid any of these pretties?" Tayna looked around, her face creasing into a worried frown.
"Not so much, no."
"Didn't think so. Look too h'educa'ed t'me. Run away fr'm home is it? From marriage I'd wager. No clue 'ow Cap'n picks em up..." Serra rambled, pursuing the weapons racks for something suitable.
"Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that..." Tayna said, her hand instinctively reaching for the cross again, eyes lost in the middle distance. Serra turned and raised an eye brow at her.
"Always is gel, always is." She muttered. "Bit of advice gel." She turned back completely to Tayna and stood with her arms crossed. "On this 'un, no one'll ask you for your tale until you're ready to tell it, so don't feel pushed. But likewise, don't push any to tell theirs, lest they want to. You stay long enough, you'll hear all in time."
"I see." Said Tayna, nodding as the dwarf turned back to the racks.
"So what might you be knowin' how to use?" Serra asked. "If you'd be h'educated, I'm guessing something light, somethin' genteel... Ah!" She lifted something down from a rack and held it towards Tayna, handle end first. "A sabre." she told Tayna. "Light, fast, sharp. I'll wager you've done a small of fencing, even though you're a lass. Rapier's too bendy, not deadly enough, too easy to avoid. sabre's similar, but more deadly. If you can fence with a rapier, you can kill with a sabre, I'd reckon. C'mon then, take it." Gingerly Tayna took the weapon. The blade was well balanced and not too long, and the hilt fit her hand perfectly. "So, how does it feel?" Serra asked, watching her carefully. Tayna held the blade before her face and looked up watching how the flames caressed the steel.
"It feels... good." she said in a whisper. She suddenly felt something stir within herself. She lowered the blade slowly, twisting through so that the flat was up by the time it was at her side. Still slowly she scoped it around, so that it was edge up by the time it was straight out in front of her, as she brought it up in a slicing motion, and finally she resumed the original stance. "Very good." She added. When she lowered the sabre, Serra saw Tayna was grinning. She smilled back, slightly sheepishly.
"You a dancer?" Serra asked. "You move with the poise of a fighter, but the grace of a dancer."
"I've danced some, yes. Fought some too. You were right about the fencing." Tayna said. This is amazing. She though. I feel like a new person. Serra nodded.
"I'll find you a scabbard for that." Serra said, and disappeared into the shadows at the back of the room. Tayna looked down the blade again, swished it about a bit, before Serra returned and sorted her scabbard and belt out.
"So, where am I to go next?" Tayna asked.
"I wouldn't know. I'd go and report to the Capitan, though, if I where you." Serra told her. Tayna nodded, and slid the Sabre away.
"Thank you for your help Serra." Tayna said, her voice much stronger than it had been for a long time. She nodded to the dwarf before leaving. Serra watched her go before she heard movement behind her.
"What do you think of her Serra?" Asked Captain Rimstone coming out of the shadows as Tayna left, her arms crossed. Serra didn't turn. "I know you to be a good judge of people, and if I didn't trust the opinion of my oldest friend there would be something wrong with me, yes?"
"I think that gel carries a lot of pain, been through a lot." Said the dwarf, narrowing her eyes in thought. "But ye saw the look in her eye when I gave 'er the blade. That un be a fighter, deep in her 'eart. The confidence in her own abili'ies is comin' out. Ye can see it in the way she moves, stands, 'ere it in her voice. All it needs is fer someone to bring it out more. Aye, whatever it be that hurts 'er, she'll get through it. Prob'ly kill a lotta people in the process mind. What was it you thought about her, when you first saw 'er then? I'd wager she didn't look like that afore she came aboard, innocent and naïve. They always do. What d'ya see 'er for?" Serra turned to face her Capitan. "An' don't be sayin 'cook', cause I know that ain't to be anything like the truth."
"Aye, she be a pretty un, to be sure." The Captain smiled. "No, she's not to be cook. Caught that fish arguing with a sheep, no less. But, I'd think she's not crazy. Saw the same fighter in her that you did. Standin' there, as mad as hell, screaming at a sheep. Hell hath no fury, as they say."
"As they say." Serra agreed.
"No." The Captain shook her head, as she uncrossed her arms and moved more towards the light. "I'm not sure what I see her for, but I'm thinking she'll let me know soon enough, in her own way." She put her hand on Serra's shoulder. "Sabre. Always a nice choice." She nodded and patted Serra's shoulder before leaving herself.
"Aye, that Tayna's a fighter alright." Serra said to herself. "Just like you Lizzy Rimstone."

As Tayna climbed up on deck, the brightness of the sun hurt her eyes. She blinked a bit, trying to get her eyes to adjust, when she heard,
"Tay! Taya! Over here Tay!" She turned to see Tegan with some other young girls waving frantically at her. "Tay!"
"Alright!" Tayna called back, smiling at the young piratess. "Alright I'm coming." She walked over to where Tegan was stood.
"Tay, these are my mates, I want you to meet them."
"Tegan, I'm sorry." Tayna said apologetically. "I don't have time right now. Serra told me to go and report to Captain Rimstone, and I don't want to be late."
"Really? Oh." Tegan said, her tone disappointed and looking sad. Gah! Tayna thought, feeling awful.
"Look, just make it quick, and then, could you show me to her... office?" Tayna said. Tegan beamed at her.
"'Kay. Guys, this is Tayna. Tay, this is Ingrid, Isabella, Bridget and Helen." Ingrid, Isabella, Bridget and Helen waved at Tayna. They all wore baggy trousers and stripped shirts, had a variety of coloured hair and eyes and Helen wore a red kerchief around her neck. "I'll see you guys in a bit." Tegan said to them, as she took Tayna's hand and lead her to a door in the aft-deck. "Cap't should be right in here." she told Tayna, knocking. When there was no answer Tegan knocked again.
"Looking for me Tegan?" asked a voice behind them. Both Tegan and Tayna jumped, before turning to see the captain stood behind them, half a smile on her face and a hand on her hip.
"Yes, Cap'n Rimstone ma'am!" Tegan saluted with a smile. "Me 'n' Serra got Tayna all kitted out like you asked."
"Good girl Tegan. Send my thanks to Serra when you see her next, would you?" The Captain smiled. "Now run along. Don't want your chums to be doin' all your chores now do you?"
"Yeep! No Cap'n. I'll get right on it Cap'n. Bye Tay!" Tegan added as she rushed off. Tayna partly raised a hand in fair well, and Captain Rimstone smiled as they watched as the girl sped off.
"Such a sweet one that." the captain murmured, before turning to Tayna. "Shall we?" she said, opening the door and motioning Tayna through.
"Uh, okay." Tayna mumbled, a little overwhelmed by everything all of a sudden. The Captain smiled at her as Tayna walked past and into the Rimstone's 'office'.
The room was bright and airy, with no need for lamps due to the huge window at the back under which was a window seat. In the middle of the curve of the window was a large conference-like table covered with charts, compasses and other nautical paraphernalia. To one side of the room was a small cot and chest, and on the other was a small table.
"Come, have a seat." Captain Rimstone invited, moving to the large seats at the end by the window. Tayna did so. The captain perched herself on the end of the table, and crossed her arms.
"You look very good in that, by the way." She said. "But then, I would expect nothing less from Tegan. She has such an eye for details." The captain lifted her head and fixed her eye on the side of the ship. "But now then, what, oh what, am I going to do with you?" she sighed. "Ah, it's a small failing I have, I'll confess, but I cannot resist a pretty face, cannot resist a woman of spirit and seeming courage, though I might have no space for her, no situation vacant, as tha might say. Is there any skill y'have which might have use aboard this vessel?" The captain looked at Tayna.
"Uh. No." Tayna said, looking very intently at her hands. The Captain frowned.
"But, ye must have some skill? For sure, you'd not survive well with no money to buy victuals." Tayna sighed, and leant back to look Captain Rimstone in the eye.
"I was a librarian." She said. "But I'd have figured you've no use for such here."
"Ah, ye perceived right me pretty fish. But, oh, you've begun to talk an all. I'n't that grand?" Tayna looked surprised.
"I have? Oh." and for some reason, she blushed.

"Ah, but then, we've still not come to a use for ye. A librarian eh? An' what might that entail ye doing?"
"Um, well, I can sort books and the like into a predetermined order, be that date or alphabetical or whatever you chose. I can keep a tally of what's there and what's not. I can do a bit of accounting as well."
"So ye be a scholar?"
"Yeah, I guess. I'd never really looked at it like that."
"Well then! I've the perfect job for ye. We've not had much luck keepin' them as can read and do numbers. An' so, our books be in a terrible state, for I've been tryin' to keep them up me self and I'm not as learned as tha must be."
"Indeed, the perfect job it seems. May I see?" The captain stood, and turned to Tayna, her hand outstretched.
"This way then lass." Tayna took the proffered hand and stood. Captain Rimstone lead her to a second chest nearer to the table, one which Tayna hadn't noticed upon entrance. The captain knelt and unlocked it and pulled out a pile of books. As she dumped them on the table a cloud of dust flew up. Tayna coughed hard.
"Easy now lass, easy." Said the captain patting her on the back. "Didn't realise I'd let them spend so long getting' dusty. Forget when it was I last looked at 'em." Flapping her hand about to get rid of the dust, Tayna opened the first book at where a bookmark was sticking out, and ran a finger down, looking at the neat copperplate writing.
"No offence, but I'd say not for a fair while. This is a list of the crew, yes?" Rimstone glanced.
"Yep, that be what it is."
"The only name I recognise on this list is 'Serra'. So I'm guessing this date is more than a few months older than today?" Again the captain glanced at it. This time she flushed.
"Yarr." Captain Rimstone said, a little sheepishly. Tayna sighed, then stood and turned to the captain.
"I believe, Captain Rimstone, that this will take me a fair while to sort. I accept the position of ship book-keeper offered me, with many thanks."
"So ye be stayin' then lass?" the captain asked with some trepidation.
"Aye, that I be." Tayna replied, smiling. "That I be."
"Well now, that be a mighty fine thing to hear indeed! I believe this calls for a celebration! I'll go an' inform the cooks." The captain declared as she rushed out. Tayna watched the door close behind the exuberant Captain Rimstone. As she glanced around the sun suddenly shone down through the huge windows, filling the cabin with golden sunshine. She placed a hand on the books and smiled.
"I'll just get started then, shall I?" she said softly.

Meanwhile, Jeremiah was sill walking. And still walking. And still walking... Yep still walking.
"You know," he said, "This walking lark is quite tiring. D'you think I could stop?" Oh, yeah sorry. He stood still and rested for a second before starting off again. And almost tripping over bob, the pink fluffy dragon who had suddenly appeared in front of him.
"Do you mind?" Said the fluffy and pink dragon called bob. "Some of us are trying to have a kip..."

Okay, enough.

Suddenly the scene of Jeremiah, tall dark and piratical as he is, standing on the edge of a forest, in the midst of tripping over a smallish pink and fluffy dragon is replaced with that of a white office, the one seen before. It is the Author's office. She is leaning back in her chair, gazing at the white ceiling, tugging on her nose. Suddenly she stops, as though she sense another presence in the room. She shifts her position so she is looking straight ahead.
"Eh?" she seems surprised. "Oh, hello reader!" She says. "I was wondering when you would turn up." She takes a sip of a mug, and it can been seen that it has far more drip marks than before. In addition, her whole desk seems far more cluttered. There are a few more mugs. Sweet and chocolate bar wrappers seems insistent on remaining where they are and under her feet, the bottles of dark liquid are now empty. She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, calling attention back to herself.
"Look," she says, "I suppose I should come straight to the point. I only have 3 days to write, uh," she glances at the computer screen, "twenty five thousand, seven hundred and fifteen words. I just don't think I can do it, especially as I have a day job to do as well." she sighs. "I guess this is what happens when you take a week off holiday with your fiancÉe with the intention of going some place together, only to wind up getting really involved in the thing you're writing and to then be told you're taking the whole thing far to seriously and you should stop so you can spend time with him, and then have your parents always asking you to do chores, and so you end up spending the whole week at his going out and having a life and stuff so you end up not writing anything." she stops and looks a little confused. "Uh, oh dear. Sorry for digressing like that. I think I may have had a little too much caffeine, you know? Heh." She sneaks a look at the empty bottles under the desk. "So, where was I? Ah yes. So since I don't have enough time to write the rest of this thing, I'm going to let you know what was going to happen.
"Well, to begin with, Jeremiah was going to have a minor argument with Bob [he's the pink fluffy dragon, in case you didn't get that the first twenty six times I mentioned it] about something or other, then Jeremiah is going to run into a bunch of all male pirates. Because of Jeremiah, and some kind of speech he gives, they go to attack the female pirate vessel. While that is happening, Tayna is busy eating, drinking and being very merry aboard the female pirate vessel. At some point after the meal, the Captain, Elizabeth Rimstone if you forgot, is going to make a pass at our sweet Tayna. They'll kiss and fondle a bit, but ultimately Tayna will stop the whole affair, proclaiming that it's not because she isn't attracted to the heart broken captain [I know, Tayna's bi, isn't that something?] , but she just doesn't want to.
"So anyway. While the all-female pirate crew are busy being hung-over [poor dears], the males come and attack. Big fierce battle; bang bang, boom, smash, crackle, snap and pop et cetera. Eventually the battle of the sexes is over and... dun dun dun! No one side is victorious. They batter the hell out of each other. Some of the crew members from both sides fall in love with the other and they vanish off into their happy-ever-afters, but obviously some stick by the Captain. Unfortunately for Jeremiah, Tayna is, was, still mad. Now she's even madder. Poor guy just can't win can he?" The author sighs and takes a fond glance at her computer before continuing. "Anyway, he's there proclaiming his death-defying love for her, and she turns him down...
"And then, I guess things get a little sketchy from here on in, but I was planning to take this through a couple more genre's before I finished. Film Noire possibly, and Science Fiction, of course, because it's something I'm quite good at, if I do say so myself," She smiles and tries to act modest, but fails badly. "And of course, action adventure. Something Indiana Jones ish: a few more explosions, maybe a trilling chase or two...
"Anyway, through all this, Jeremiah and Tayna should have been playing some kind of twisted cat and mouse game, where Tayna is trying to ignore Jeremiah for being such an ass, and he's still trying to win back her trust at least. The rolling, roaring climax I'm afraid, knowing me would probably be something fairly clichÉd, but the good kind of clichÉ, you know? Something like, Tayna's life is threatened but Jeremiah, our ever loving hero, takes the bullet for her. And, as he's lying there bleeding out, she suddenly realises that he is actually going over to the other side of day, and she'll never see him again, and she does actually love him body and soul and all that jazz. Oh, and that's she is, to put it mildly, a little pissed about the whole loosing him thing.
"Fortunately they'll be another char there, or that turns up, who can bind him up and stop him bleeding out and all that. Maybe, if it's necessary, give him some kind of healing potion." she looks shocked. "What? You think I'd let my best mate die in something I of all people are controlling?" Now the Author looks pissed; she is half stood, her hands straight, but trembling on the desk. "Like hell I'd let that happen! I promised him a happy-ever-after, remember? I don't break my promises." she glares, before settling back down, and metaphorically straightens her tie. "Now, as I was saying. Jeremiah is ultimately going to be taken care of, so Tayna can do that whole 'stand up to the bad guy and kill him' thing, and then hopefully that would leave about a thousand words for me to bring them back here, or release them back into the real world somehow, so they can go and have their happy-ever-after together.
"See, it all wraps up swell. They might even invite me to their wedding," she smiles in a chibi like fashion. "Well," The Author continues sadly, "it would if I had the time to write it all. Which, like I said at the beginning of this monologue, I totally don't, so I will have failed National Novel Writing Month, which is what this was all about. I guess I've done better than last year though. I only managed to write four thousand eight hundred and eighty seven then." Though the Author is trying to be cheerful about this, she slumps in her chair, and rests her head on crossed arms on the desk. "I suppose," She says in a defeated voice, "That the only thing left for me to do is to bring them back and let them get on with trying to find their happy ever after in a slightly more traditional way..." The Author breaths a heavy sigh and pulls her self upright and flops into the back-rest of the chair. She slowly turns to face the computer monitor and raises her hands from her lap as though they are made of lead, then, with a severely dejected countenance and another heavy sigh, she begins to type...

All of a sudden, through the trees in front of where Jeremiah and bob, the fluffy dragon who was still pink, even though it might more accurately be considered fuchsia, were stood, there came a bright, blinding light.
"Ouch," said Bob the fluffy, fuzzy, pink or possibly fuchsia, dragon, blinking slightly.
"Oh god!" cried Jeremiah, as he felt to his knees, arms flung protectively about his face.
-Not quite Jer- said an ethereal voice that seemed to be having fun deciding if it was inside his head, or conforming to the normal laws of physics and coming to his ears as sound waves. He squinted up to see a feminine shape encased in the shimmering light coming towards him.

At that precise, exact, same time, Tayna was flipping through the Female Pirate ship's books when she heard yelling from outside. She looked up at the door in confusion, before hurrying to it. Cautiously, she drew her sabre, feeling the trill of confidence it gave her, before opening the door a crack and looking out on to the deck. What she saw made her gasp with surprise and drop the sword.
-It's okay- said a voice half in her mind, and half in her ear. -You don't need that anyway. Please come out here- She opened the door fully and stepped out on to the deck, into bright blinding white light.

-Relax Jeremiah, please. Do you know who I am?-

-It's okay Tayna. Do you know who I am?-

"You're the Author."
-Yes. That is correct. I've come to take you back-

"You reached fifty thousand words?"
-No, but my time has run out. It doesn't matter any more-

"I'm going home?"
-Yes. I am sorry I had put you through all this-

"What about me?"

"No! Tay, don't go!"

-I am so sorry Bob. Cute, and fluffy and pink as you are, you belong to the story, You are a literary device, nothing more. I can't take you with me-

-She has to Tegan, dear, sweet child. She doesn't belong here. I am truly sorry-

"But-"

Jeremiah stood as the figure held out it's hand, and took a step towards it.

Tayna stepped towards the bright light, to see encased within it was a female figure, who held out her hand.

-Come-

Jeremiah reached out, tentatively before suddenly stopping and looking back towards Bob, the fluffy and fuchsia dragon.

Tayna reached out her hand, but hesitated and looked back towards Tegan, being held back by her friends.

"But I-"
-They are but characters. They are not real. Do not feel bad about leaving them. If you have formed attachments to them, it is because I have written them well. I am pleased if this is the case, but the time has come. Do you not want to return to the real world?-
"Yes, but-"

"Bob-"

"Tegan-"

"Chip-"

"Captain Rimstone-"

"Sniff-"

"Serra-"

"Madame Fox-"

"Joe-"

"Jeffreys-"

"The Thingumy-"

"All gone..."
-No. They will live forever in this novel. Every time it is read they will become alive again. They will live on in the mind and memory of whomever reads this. They cannot die, as long as there is a copy of this work somewhere in the world. They will never vanish, or fade. Their colours will remain vivid long after you and I have withered and passed to the other side of day. That is their blessing as story book characters. That is our curse as mortal humans. Think of Beowulf, he is several thousand years old, is he not? The same is true of Jason and his Argonauts. And yet still with every telling, these characters are as bright in the mind's eye as the day they were written. No, these characters of mine, Madame Fox or Bob the fluffy and pink dragon, will not die or fade as we might. They will reside here safely enough. You can leave here with sound knowledge that they will always be here for you too look back upon-
"Well, I suppose, since you put it like that."
-Come-

The figure extended her hand towards Tayna and with one last small glance back, one flashed smile of fare-thee-well at Tegan, Captain Rimstone, Serra and the rest of the pirates, she took the hand.

The figure extended her hand towards Jeremiah, and with one last small glance back, one last apologetic fare-thee-well smile towards the pink, possibly fuchsia, fluffy dragon that is Bob, he took the hand.

They are surrounded, embraced, by the bright light. Their world becomes light. For the moment, it is all they know. It is like being born again. They feel cleansed by the light, refreshed. It is like standing naked on a snow field. It is like drinking fresh spring water. It is like the smell of sunshine. It is like listening to a note sung by a choirboy and the resonant silence after it has faded. It is like a deep state of meditation.
-We are home. You may open your eyes-
They are stood in a room. A bright white room. In the centre of this room there is a desk, covered with debris of sweet and junk food and the empty bottles and mugs of caffeinated liquids. Under it all there is a computer terminal. They look at each other, and see they are both dressed in clothes of white cloth, he in a shirt and trousers, her in the same. As the persistent glow of the room fades, and their eyes become clearer, they see that behind the desk, typing like mad, there sits a girl. She is also dressed in white, but this time a dress, that contrasts sharply with her red-brown hair. She looks up at them and they see her azure blue eyes are red rimmed and bruised from lack of sleep and too much staring at the VDU. She smiles at them, a mixture of triumph and sorrow. Her final words are simple:
"Welcome home."

If you didn't know it was here, you'd miss it: there are few clues on the outside of this house as to what lies beyond the threshold. I open the gate and walk up the path, pausing to sniff the purple roses. Maybe you would notice the delicate shade of blue the house is. Maybe you would wonder at the planet motif on the house number plaque. I put my key in the lock and turn it, grinning slightly at the fleur-de-lis shaped knocker.

I enter, pausing on the threshold. From beneath my feet I feel reverberating base, around the house I hear screams of laughter and play, the various melodies of many instruments being practiced, and I feel the thoughtful silence of the attic way above. I breath in deeply and smell the warm scent of fresh baked goodies, new mown grass, many perfumes and incenses, warm bodies, and the tang of ammonium nitrate and Kerosene.

This is my house, these are my people. This is my Spacefemily.

Dropping my coat and kicking off my shoes in the hallway rack, I stick my head round the door of the lounge.
"Hey kids!"
"Momma!" Jevva squeals, dropping her video game controller and leaping up from the TV to hug me until I cry out, whist Jen wins the game, then she heads over to hug me as well.
"How are you Momma? Have you been having fun?" Jen asks me.
"Did you bring us anything?" Jevva chimes in. Silver and Yaad's ears prick up from where they have been gossiping in a corner and they drift over.
"I have something for everyone." I say grinning, and moving on the kitchen.

"MommaDru!" Wiccy smiles at me as I enter. She has a tray of little green cakes in her hands. I look from them to her.
"I'm almost afraid to ask." I grin at her.
"Green tea fairy cakes. And no, you mayn't have one until they are cooler." She says, proceeding to tip them on a cooling rack. I move over and put a variety of bags on the kitchen table then grimace at a whiff of ammonium nitrate. "Wiccy, has Pyro been making bombs again?" Wiccy shuffled her feet.
"She said she needed to cook something." I sigh
"Fine. I'm sure the smell will go away on its own." I start pulling things from bags and the others crowd around me.
"My corset!" squeals Wiccy, racing off to try it on, "Thanks Momma!" over her shoulder.
"Tehe! It makes such a funny noise! This is so cool!" - Jevva playing with the Jibber Jabber
"Ooh thanks Momma! Its so pretty." Thats Jen with a new note book/ journal.
A new necklace for Yaad and some sweets for Silver, and more hugs for me. Makes me feel loved for a while as they run off to play again. I put the kettle on for a cup of tea and move through the house leaving gifts on beds; a tube of scale moisturiser for Draak, books for many, new clothes for some, Jasc Animation for Dolphy and finally, "Lady S are you in?" I call thought the door of her attic apartment.
"Ess, mumbin" I open the door to see The Queen of Everything trying to chew quickly through something. I hold up a sack as she swallows.
"Bird seed." I tell her and she grins as she takes it from me.
"Thanks Dru, you're a star." I grin back, and then head back down the house, to MFS' basement to give him his slide.
It's cool down here, and for once relativity quiet; Everyone must be outside in the sun. I gaze at the collection of instruments here, from MFS' guitars to Osin's Sax, as I wander over to a chest of draws and leave the slide.
I decide to test my theory and out of the back door into a garden, and I was right: Cries of 'Momma!' and 'Dru!' ring out as lots of hugs and licked foreheads come my way. Looking around I can see so many familiar faces; DWH, Zecorder, Zorpy, SaberSlash, Ama, RD, Tweek, Kissthefluffycloudbunny, MFS, Amore to name but a very few. Someone has put trestle tables up, bulging with food of all kinds and to the taste of even the most picky among us. Music and chatter issue from all around, and laughter from where Squeaky and Z are fooling around. I gather up some food and wander to have a natter with Draak, now in her dragon form for the garden is big enough.
The whole day is wonderful, the sun shines, and when it does shower, no one goes inside. I sniff the air, fragrant with summer and flowers, before being pulled away into a game with SBC and PnkPanther.
As the sun dips below the horizon and the stars come out, we light a fire and those who can play and sing until the wee ones drop off and are carried to bed. Then slowly, one by one, we retire until I am left in the solitude of the night with Darkliquid in my arms.
"Today was nice." I tell him.
"Yes." He agrees, then kisses me softly before we leave and head up the house to bed ourselves.

Music: none

Ok, so nobody actually visits this thing, so I’m gonna let off a little steam.

Stupid fuckin’ Asuka, why does she have to be so difficult, why can’t I draw full people, why can’t i decide what equipment she has, why is she so hard to design, why do I know no one who will draw them for me, why is my writing a peace of lame crap, why can’t i get it all SORTED OUT!!! YAHHHHHHH!!!!

Ahem. Feeling a little better now. What most of my rant is about is the lead female in my untitled novelet. I have two costumes for her, that I like equally, and I can’t decide what to do about her equipment. Asuka is supposed to be an assassin/ spy/ mercenary/ type person which means she should be carrying certain equipment at all times. But I’m having trouble deciding what she should carry, how she will carry it, and if it absolutely has to be concealed. I suspect that it should be concealed, and I did have the items in her boot, but I’m not sure that they would be too big for the heal. Bleh.

My other main rant with the story so far is that I’m having difficulty visualising what my chars look like. Andy was supposed to draw them for me, but he says all his artistic talent has gone out the window, and he can’t do it. some other mates said they would do it, but none of them have gotten round to it, and I’ve thought about asking people on elfwood, but they’re so good, they want paying and I have no money. It super sux

Heh. Other than all that, my day was fine. How was yours

Music: Placebo

I think winters just hit. Its SOOO cold! I’ve been sat all day with 2 jumpers and a pashmina on, drinking scrumpy [cider]. So I guess I’m a wee bit tipsy. lol. Whatever.

I found the best artist to day, check her out here! I know she mostly does sketches but they’re so good. I loved ‘It’s hard’ so much, I decided to write a bit about it.

Kathy crouched in the shadows, awaiting her second victim. Well, technically it wouldn’t be her second, as the 1st had gone rather badly. She shook her head at the thought. The others just had no idea what it was like for her. And it was silly to have to be doing it at this age. Not for the first time she wished someone could hunt for her.

She started out of her thoughts. Had that been a shadow? Finally some food! She slipped out of the shadows. Good. It was some old biddy. This would be easy, didn’t matter to her if the blood was a little thin. She coughed, loudly and harsh, and fell, just as the old lady turned.

“Oh my goodness!” She cried, hurrying to Kathy’s side. As the shadow fell over her, Kathy felt her fangs lengthening, and her face shifting to accommodate the new growth.

As the woman reached down to help her, Kathy sprang up and sank her fangs into the jugular. And sucked. It was so quick, the woman didn’t even cry out.

Done with her meal Kathy dropped the woman, grabbed the decease’s bag and ran for it.

I love doing that… Finding a pic on elfwood, and writing about it. It gives me something to do when I’m stuck on ‘working title’. Like now. And they always say, one should try to write something every day, and keep it, even if one doesn’t think its very good.

Oooh, I’m so tired. I don’t know why… Andy ‘prescribed’ me to do exercises every day, when I wake up and go 2 bed. I really don’t think its working, I just ache more. Blah! Damn his sexxy ass.

Humm, think I may be needing my bed.
Nite