#and you have a suspicion that the whole blood magic accusations are fairly true but who gives a shit if they are

[potatoesandsunshine]

thinking about this current Surana & Jowan. screaming crying throwing up

[thedcdunce]

Bigby Wolf

“The next time you two try to stage a crime scene, you should actually knock things over -- rather than carefully place them in positions you want them to end up in.” - Bigby Wolf

Aliases:

Big Bad Wolf

Big B. Wolf

Gender: Male

Height: 5′ 8″

Weight: Variable

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Race: Fable

Powers:

Immortality

Lycanthropy

Wind Powers

Abilities:

Criminology

Interrogation

Investigation

Psychic and Magical resistance

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Basic)

Weaknesses:

Vulnerability to Silver

Universe: Fables

Origin: Born several hundred years ago in the Homelands

Base of Operations:

The Farm

Fabletown

the Homelands

Citizenship: American

Parents:

North Wind; father

Winter; mother

Marital Status: Married (Snow White; wife)

Occupation: Sheriff of Fabletown

First Appearance: Fables #1 (July, 2002)

Powers

Immortality: Bigby is effectively immortal, having lived a lifespan that encompasses several hundred years. It was over two-hundred years ago when he, along with every other Fable, left the Homelands in exile. His eternal lifespan is also granted by the witch who had the power to give people the fate they want, after Bigby forced her.

Lycanthropy

Transformation: Bigby possesses the ability to instantly alter his form from that of a wolf to that of a human and back again. Although he spends the majority of his time in human form, his natural shape is that of a wolf. When he shape-shifts into a wolf, Bigby's physical body increases in size and mass. He also grows sharpened canines, claws and pointed ears.

Superhuman Strength: Bigby's strength level depends on his current form, with his strength increasing the more wolf-like his form becomes. In the past, however, he has shown sufficient strength to lift up a car, tear the arm off an opponent, throw dumpsters with ease, rip fuse boxes off walls and lift an anvil with enough ease to use it as a weapon. His wolf form allows him to go toe-to-toe with dragons, sorcerers and giants. He can wipe out hundreds of armies in one battle.

Enhanced Senses: Bigby has naturally acute senses, in particular, his sense of smell. He can correctly identify an individual merely by smelling a sample of their blood.

Superhuman Durability: Bigby's Durability is dependent on his current form. However, he transforms into his next form presumably automatically if he sustains too much damage. In his human form alone, he has been shown to take multiple shotgun blasts and only be briefly incapacitated and be thrown out a first story window, smash into a lamp-post on the way down and fall onto a car, only to be briefly knocked unconscious. In his werewolf form, he has been hit by cars, only to immediately get back up and keep running.

Accelerated Healing

Wind Powers

Powerfull Huff and Puff: Bigby can "huff and puff" powerful hurricanes from his mouth. This power is strong enough to demolish whole forests, armies and big infrastructures and building.

Superhuman Speed: Bigby has the speed and agility of the wind. Bigby's superhuman speed can only be seen in his wolf form. He's fast enough to travel across the globe.

Superhuman Stamina

Abilities

Criminology

Interrogation: Bigby Wolf uses intimidation and violent outbursts of emotion when interrogating suspects. Sometimes, he will blatantly accuse someone of an outrageous crime just to gauge their reaction.

Investigation: With the aid of his keen analytical mind as well as his canine senses, Bigby is an extremely competent detective. Although he personifies himself in the style of a classic 1930s gumshoe detective, Bigby admits that his chosen profession is a fairly unglamorous one. In over two-hundred years as a detective, he has never been in a gunfight, or even fired his gun. He's never even learned how to drive, much less experienced the thrill of a high-speed car chase. 

Psychic and Magical resistance: Bigby's magical nature allows him to resist magic, although there were times where his human form resists weaker than his wolf form. He can also resist psychic attacks.

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Basic): Bigby, whilst presumably lacking any training other than what he was taught in his military service during World Wars 1 and 2, has shown some basic Hand-to-Hand skill. He has been shown to be able to disarm opponents, dodge and block blows, and on occasion use his environment as a weapon.

Weaknesses

Vulnerability to Silver: Being injured by silver weaponry can easily incapacitate or potentially even kill Bigby.

History

Bigby Wolf is a Fable – a character of myth and legend who has assumed several guises both in his native Homeland, as well as in the public consciousness on Earth. In the Homelands, he is most renowned for terrorizing three small pigs, resulting in the destruction of their homes, and also for stalking a young girl through the woods and impersonating her grandmother in the hopes of baiting her into a trap.

When a being known as the Adversary began to conquer the Homelands, Bigby, as well as many other Fables, conducted a mass exodus to Earth where they established an underground Fable community called Fabletown. Under the auspices of Mayor King Cole, Bigby was elected to the position of Sheriff of Fabletown. On Earth, Bigby possessed the means to assume human form. Mundane human beings are unaware of Bigby's true heritage as a Fable. He occupied a small office at the Woodland Building in Manhattan and longed for the chance to prove his worth as a real detective.

The "Murder" of Rose Red

As the Sheriff of Fabletown, Bigby finally landed the "case of a lifetime" when Rose Red, sister to Fabletown deputy mayor Snow White, became the alleged victim of a gruesome murder. Rose Red's lover, Jack Horner, came to Bigby's office in a state of panic and exhaustion, claiming that Rose Red had been murdered. Immediately, Bigby had suspicions about the validity of this case. He first alerted Snow White to the matter then personally inspected the crime scene. What he discovered at Rose Red's Greenwich apartment was a veritable orgy of blood. The room was in complete disarray and all four walls were spattered with copious amounts of blood. Bigby performed a cursory inspection and ordered the room sealed off from mundie law enforcement. He then accused Jack of the Tales of murdering Rose Red and arrested him. After interrogating him at length, Bigby discovered that Rose Red was once romantically involved with another Fable, Bluebeard. Bigby and Snow White visited the reclusive Bluebeard at his suite and interviewed him. Bluebeard confessed that Rose Red was once contractually obligated to marry him. In exchange, Bluebeard provided Rose with a large dowry. Rose left Bluebeard however to be with Jack. During the interview, Bigby angrily accused Bluebeard of murdering Rose Red. Aside from the fact that he simply didn't like him, Bigby wanted to see Bluebeard's reaction, but Bluebeard maintained his innocence.

Bigby then had the Fables Boy Blue and Flycatcher recreate the crime scene in a neighboring apartment to every detail. This way, he was able to determine exactly how much blood Rose Red lost. With each step of the process, he discovered more and more clues concerning the crime. One obstacle he didn't expect however came from Bluebeard. Bluebeard was convinced that Jack of the Tales was guilty of killing Rose Red, so he bribed his way into the prison cell with the intent of seeking retribution. When Bigby learned of this, he transformed into his full wolf form and squared off against Bluebeard. Snow White and her staff intervened before the two could come to blows and Bigby arrested Bluebeard. Before long, Bigby had all of the results that he required. In a showy rendition of the "parlor scene" from various crime novels, revealed his findings at the annual Remembrance Day celebration at the Woodland Building. He publicly revealed that one of the attending guests was actually Rose Red - alive and well. Rose and Jack conspired to fake her demise so that she could get out of her contracted nuptials with Bluebeard without having to pay back any of the money she received from him.

Revolution At The Farm

While Bigby wasn't allowed to step foot on The Farm according to Fable law, he did assist Boy Blue in rounding up a posse to investigate after communications were cut and Cock Robin had been found dead.

He was also sitting at Snow White's bedside when she woke up from her coma after being shot in the head. He had been the one to fill her in on the events at the farm after the revolution was quelled, though he noted that since he himself was banned from the area, it was all second-hand talk.

Tommy Sharp

Bigby was the first Fable to speak with the mundy journalist, Tommy Sharp, who revealed that he was going to write a story on them, exposing their seemingly immortal existence to the world. Though Sharp revealed that he thought Bigby and the other Fables were vampires, a hypothesis that Bigby found amusing, he still warned Sharp to stay away.

That night, Bigby sent Briar Rose, better known as Sleeping Beauty, into Sharp's apartment building while he, Jack, Boy Blue, Flycatcher and Bluebeard waited outside. Briar Rose pricked her finger on a needle and sent herself, along with everyone in the building, into a deep sleep. Once satisfied that the spell had worked, Bigby and his crew snuck into Sharp's apartment and began taking every document and photo that included any mention of them. Unfortunately, while deleting files on the computer, Jack discovered that Sharp sent out back-up copies of all his research to secure locations on the internet, which were beyond his ability to hack. Bigby was not happy that his plan had essentially failed, but Jack told him he had an alternate plan, depending on how "evil" Bigby was prepared to get.

The new plan was for Bigby to convince Tommy Sharp that he was now in their vampiric "Thralls" by leaving two puncture wounds on his neck. With a few threats about what they would make him do to himself, Bigby finally pulled out some very compromising pictures he took of Sharp with a young boy and got Sharp to swear that he would never try to expose or bother any one of them again or his life will be ruined forever.

Sharp was later murdered by Bluebeard, though Bigby didn't know anything about it, at first.

Storybook Love

When Bluebeard's harboring of the fugitive Goldilocks was threatened to be exposed by a mouse police spy, he put Bigby and Snow White under an enchantment and sent them away on a vacation before they could find out. The spell lasted for two days, Bigby unconsciously camping out in the cascade mountains with Snow, before both suddenly regained their senses. Believing their enchantment to be a simple prank of Jack's, Bigby nevertheless feels uneasy about their situation. His fears are proved warranted when their vehicle is shot at and sent careening down a hillside.

While they were hiding in the wilderness from their pursuer, Snow White worries that they may have slept together in the same tent during the enchantment, but Bigby says it isn't likely as there were wolf tracks all around the campsite, hinting that he probably spent all the time outside in his natural habitat. Snow then asked Bigby why he chose her, of all people, to go on a date to the Remembrance Day gala with. Bigby answers that it was because, despite all his efforts to avoid the many scents of living in the city, hers was the only one he couldn't ignore. She had a pleasant smell to him, which is why he allowed her to live when they first met, back in the Homelands. Since moving the Fabletown, he's been able to track her by scent alone, always knowing where she was, and how she was feeling at the time due to subtle changes in her natural musk. Snow asks him to stop, but Bigby responds she shouldn't ask if she doesn't want to hear the answer.

Bigby finally picks up the scent of their hunter and realizes that it's Goldilocks. He first makes sure that Snow White is safely sheltered under an arch of boulders where he tells her to wait while he uses a trick he hasn't done in awhile, the "old huff and puff". He uses his breath to blow the forest down, trees and all, blowing Goldilocks off her motorcycle in the process. The blast didn't kill her, nor did Bigby truly believe it would, but it did achieve his two objectives; to create a path leading directly to them, and to get the local wind under his control, so he can keep Goldilocks upwind at all times.

Bigby managed to momentarily surprise Goldilocks in his large wolf form, but she soon fired several buckshot rounds into his body. Bigby was wounded, but didn't die, he told her that only a silver bullet could kill him. He kept her attention on him while Snow sneaked up behind her and stuck a hatchet in the back of her head. It took several more blows from her cane before Goldilocks fell off the cliff, got hit by a truck and fell into the river. Bigby noted that because of her popularity with the mundies, she wouldn't have been easy to kill.

When they arrived back in New York City, Snow White told Bigby that she'd be willing to go out to dinner or a movie sometime next week, if Bigby would simply ask. He smiled in response.

Later, however, he had been called to her apartment, where Snow angrily yelled at him. Doctor Swineheart had just given her a check-up and told her she was pregnant. Bigby counters that he couldn't even remember what happened while they were under the spell, but she asks him to leave her alone.

The Battle of Fabletown

Bigby was immediately suspicious when Red Riding Hood came into town with her claims that she had escaped the Adversary. His suspicions were mostly based on her story that she came through the Oz gate to the Mundy world, specifically Canad, when Bigby knew for a fact that the Adversaries forces had sealed that gate long ago.

Bigby left Fabletown to investigate the northern gate Red had come through. As a result, he was unavailable for most of the battle between Fabletown and the Wooden Soldiers led by Red Riding Hood, who was actually Baba Yaga. But he made it back in time to blow the remaining soldiers out of Fabletown, thus ending the battle.

Bigby again showed his knack for keeping his own secrets from the other Fables, by holding Baba Yaga, thought killed in the battle, in a chamber deep down beneath Fabletown's City Hall. Only himself and Frau Totenkinder know of Yaga's imprisonment.

Fun Facts

Bigby Wolf is based upon the antagonist from two famous fairy tales. He is the Big Bad Wolf responsible for tormenting the Three Little Pigs and he is also the predator who stalked Little Red Riding Hood and masqueraded as her grandmother.

Bigby is a chain smoker, though he claims it's to "deaden his senses enough to avoid a sensory overload from living in the city".

[scribeofmorpheus]

Two Worlds Apart (A Solavellan Fic)

A/N: So this fic is on my AO3 but I haven’t started posting any fics there since I created this blog so there’s nothing new or interesting there yet. Also, I felt like this was well written and emotional and like I just wanted to repost it! My Solavellan heart still bleeds.

Words: 2178

Warnings: ANGST!

I was inspired by this slowed down version of Lost Elf made by the amazing @emmavakarian-theirin to repost this fic! Like I cried when I listened to the slowed down version. Beautiful!!

(Photo is a screenshot from when I played Trespasser)

PROLOGUE:

Scout Armala entered the study with the intention of delivering a missive from the spies in Tevinter to her commander. Yet, upon entering and noticing the derelict nature befallen to the large library, she decided to place the scroll on his desk instead. The beautifully carved piece of wood was covered in stains from ink, paint, candle wax and a few scorch marks. It was filled with clutter from poorly kept stationary and crumpled up reports.

One piece of parchment, in particular, stood out from the rest, garnering the scout's full attention. A drawing of great detail of a spellbinding elf woman.

Her face was utterly captivating. Her lips upturned in a smile that reminded Armala of the sun; warm and bright. Her dark hair pencilled in delicate and clean with charcoal. It flowed in waves, rebellious and free, reminiscent of the sea. Her eyes were what struck out the most; soulful and young yet clouded with the slightest glimmer of sadness that made her look wise beyond her years. It may have simply been a drawing but it seemed to possess a life all its own. Intrigued, Armala decided to study the portrait further.

The parchment it was drawn on was handled with great care. There were no charcoal smudge marks or inward folded corners despite looking fairly well aged. Aged yet still preserved, perhaps is had been protected from the hardships of time by magic.

The scout dared not touch it, no matter how much she yearned to, for fear the parchment would turn to ash in her hands. There was something oddly familiar about the woman in the portrait. After looking over the image with great intensity, she knew of whom this face belonged to. Armala felt embarrassed about her obvious oversight for nearly all Thedas knew of her. She was Dalish, like Armala, with a notable absence of a vallaslin. This was the face of the Dalish Inquisitor, Ilaan Revas of Clan Lavellan.

Armala tried to conceal her shock as she muttered an old Dalish curse into the night.

‘Had the rumours been true?’ She wondered.

And before she could stop herself from muttering that name, there was a sudden change in the weather. A flurry of defiant wind agitated the flame of a candle behind her, casting playful silhouettes around the room. To Armala's utter disbelief, the portrait disappeared.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the outline of a man bathed in shadow. In recognition of whom the man was, fear shot up her spine. Frantically, Armala placed the missive on the desk. She took a bow and left the confines of the library. The library that grew colder and darker with each passing day under the current residence of the Great Wolf from legend.

CHAPTER ONE: TRESPASSER Inquisitor Ilaan Revas stepped through the eluvian in hast. White hot light flashed bright, blinding her temporarily. The familiar pull of magic encompassed her whole body, its tendrils snaking around her body ushering her forward. She was transported instantly to a new location, she knew not where.

Her muscles were sore from battle and her body weak from the anchor, the residual force of the eluvian caused her more discomfort than she wanted to admit. The suddenness of the action left her in a daze, losing her footing for the slightest second causing her to turn swift on her heel. She stared back at the eluvian she just crossed through, it seemed none of her companions had followed after her. Revas had no time to ponder the reasons why, she had to stay focused.

When she turned around she was not prepared for what she saw. Shock took over her facial features; her vibrant green eyes looked on in pity, mouth left slightly agape.

Dozens upon dozens of the Qunari hoard led by the Viddasala stood frozen, encased in stone; lifeless. Many held their battle axes up high about to strike a killing blow from above, they looked strong and fierce but their eyes, their eyes were filled with terror.

Each and every face was petrified in stone as they all came to the realisation they would be lost to time, cursed forever to reside within the crossroads, between the mortal plane and the fade.

Revas had never witnessed such raw power, not since Adamant. Fear shot up her spine as the blood drained from her cheeks.

She began towards the furthermost eluvian beyond the steps, she could not let this fearsome display of power deter her from her goal. Revas needed to find Solas, if not to warn him then at least to gain the answers to the many burning questions that pestered her sleepless nights.

Cautious and slow were her motions as she manoeuvred around the lifeless statues, mindful not to disturb them... not that it mattered.

From a distance, Revas heard a familiar calm and silvery voice speak in Qunlat: "Ebasit kata, itwa ost."

Eyes wide, her heart picked up its pace. It beat thunderously against her breastplate as she looked on to the voices place of origin: beyond the steps. Revas knew that voice.

How could she ever forget such a bewildering voice filled with wisdom and wonder?

The voice she would fall asleep listening to. The voice she had craved to hear for the past three years.

The voice of the one elf who had ever had the pleasure of stealing her heart.

The voice that called her vhenan in confidence.

Her steps quickened into a strained run.

"Maraas kata!" the Viddasala shouted in disgust.

More words were exchanged but they were much harder to make out this time around.

When Revas finally reached the top of the steps she could see the Viddasala, she let out an angered grunt vehemently as she raised her spear, prepared to hurl it towards the back turned elf in front of her.

That elf was Solas, striding slow and unnerved by the show of force behind him or the presence of his Vhenan.

‘Can he not feel me near?‘ Revas lamented to herself

Before she could dwell on the thought, Revas attempted to pool whatever remained of her severely depleted mana reserves to try and conjure up any magic in an effort to stop the Viddasala.

What are you doing? her inner voice chastised, You barely have enough energy to stand, let alone cast any impactful spells.

Ignoring her own voice, Revas decided to act on pure instinct alone, but before she could cast any spells or even offer a shout in warning, powerful magic rippled through the air, invisible.

The fierce female Qunari had befallen the same fate as the rest of her brethren. The Viddasala had turned to stone, she too condemned to be forgotten in this ever growing cemetery.

Revas let out a breath in relief and made her way to the retreating figure of her former love.

"Solas," Revas called out when she was within earshot causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He turned slowly at the behest of her call.

Without warning the anchor flared up in a powerful outburst of magic. Revas cried out in pain as the sensation drove her to her knees. The mark flashing violently in its brilliant green hue.

Solas walked towards her looking as magnificent and proud as he ever was, if not more. His armour gleamed in the light, accents of gold shoning brightly. A wolf pelt slung over one shoulder and fastened in place with a leather strap, it was designed to intimidate more than anything else.

Revas noticed how much he resembled Abelas in this moment, only his face had a much deeper sadness to it than the protector of the Well of Sorrows.

Solas' eyes turned from their normal violet circled blue to an intense silvery-blue that shimmered like polished diamonds for the briefest moment. If Revas had suffered through a more intense pain she would have assumed she had hallucinated it.

Suddenly, the striking pain in Revas arm subsided. With the pain gone she could now hold the weight of her own body in her sore limbs again.

"That should give us more time," Solas spoke, he wore a gentle smile and his eyebrows were upturned with the slight hint of worry, "I suspect you have questions."

Revas tucked one of her short auburn locks behind her ear, an old nervous reaction when she felt anxious. She had barely been in his presence a couple of minutes and already she felt as naive and young as the first days of the Inquisition.

She steeled her resolve and looked deep into his eyes, they still had a way of drawing her close. Even now when she was moments away from accusing the elf who had her heart of being the Dread Wolf from legend, she still felt drawn to him, to his strength and wisdom and gentleness. To his heart.

Revas held back the tears of mixed emotions and held her head high a she accused the one closest to her of being the Dread Wolf the Dalish reveared so much.

Solas, not bothering to conceal his identity any further, revealed all to her. Who he was. The hand he played in giving his orb to Corypheus. The Evanuris. The death of Mythal. His plan to restore Arlathan. He told her everything.

As they spoke, Revas had suffered through various paroxysms of emotions: fear, anger, sadness, betrayal. Her left arm occasionally causing her discomfort as time went by.

When the issue of the anchor came up Revas was knocked off her feet by a violent pulse of energy. It flared erratically and much more strongly this time. Yet again she was forced to cry out in pain.

Solas had confirmed her suspicions: the mark was killing her. Solas had looked upon her glowing arm with despondent eyes. It made her heart ache to see him in such pain.

Knowing that time was short and the moment was fleeting, and in the wake of having to face her mortality, Revas decided to speak from the heart. She feared she would not get a second chance if she stayed passive. She prayed he would hear her pleas, prayed the next words she uttered could change his mind.

"Solas, var lath vir suledin," she proclaimed, true and honest to the world.

"I wish it could Vhenan," he said solenmly.

Vhenan, how could he claim her to be his heart when he could so easily leave her behind for a second time.

Solas' head bent down in submission, his pride no longer strong enough to ward off the obvious hurt her words cultivated. It was as though he had been stripped of his armour and left vulnerable. His brow dropped and creased together, his ears drooping slightly too and his eyes appeared more sorrowful than before.

Revas had seen this look before. It was the same look he gave her in Crestwood. The same look he wore after the battle with Corypheus. It was the look of pure despair.

There was a war raging inside him and for all her attempts Revas could do nothing to quell that fight.

She wanted to reach for him and hold him protectively against her breast. To whisper words of comfort and warmth into his ear and feel his body relax against hers.

But then again, Revas seldom got what she wanted and when she did it would always turn for the worse.

Always.

Tears threatened to let loose, blurring her vision. Pain still ran through her arm unabated.

Another cry left her lips.

Solas bent down carefully, as though he were afraid of her current fragility.

"My love..." he whispered like a prayer, his breath warm against her cheek. He kissed her then deep and passionate.

His soft, full lips brushed against hers, caressing her mouth with his tongue, ebbing away the pain in her arm.

He placed a hand on her cheek and interlinked his free hand with her fingers. The kiss was filled with passion and hunger. Revas closed her eyes in an attempt to savour every aspect of their embrace, tears finally set free as they ran down her face and filled the kiss with the taste of salt.

His scent filled the air between them and it made her wish for simpler times. She had almost forgotten what he smelled like. Like earth and herbs and painting oils.

Her mind completely overcome by Solas' touch, Revas could feel nothing but numbness in her left arm.

Sooner than Revas would like, Solas pulled back and broke their contact. He let his forehead touch hers for a few moments longer before he stood up and away from her.

Revas tried to hold him close, keep him next to her but her arms were like jelly against him.

"I will never forget you."

Those words were his last solemn promise to her as he walked away, disappearing through the eluvian, leaving her heartbroken for the second time.

Revas was left to live out the rest of her arduous life alone.

MASTERPOST | For Tumblr App

Note: This fic isn’t dead. It’s just on hiatus until I play my Inky Elf for the bazillionth time and Romance the egg head and get all emotional when he eventually dumps my ass again! Just posting this here because recently someone posted a slowed down version of Lost Elf and like I got all weepy. I’ll find it and link it!

[ecotone99]

[SP] Wait...You want me to Do What? (the Psychic Wars)

"You have a fucking bow on your back."

Dove held true to that charming British colloquialism of stating the obvious. Mind you, I was covered in mud, artfully blending my face with the outdoors, and wearing some fairly beat up duds. So walking into domesticity solicited commentary. And of course, he was correct. There WAS a bow on my back.

"I'm an American," I informed him cheerfully, "We never gave up hunting. You know, just in case the British ever came back."

It wasn't exactly a lie, for some reason Americans still took hunting pretty seriously. From deer widows to Republican presidents, we'd weather pretty much anything for our right to hunt on designated land. I'd gotten my hunting license in my teens, and it wasn't even something notable for my family or friends. My uncle pressed his own shotgun shells and bought a Dalmatian for breeding and birding. My cousin didn't bother complaining when she became a deer widow, she just scheduled time with her girls when he came back.

On the other side of the spectrum, I sincerely doubted that Danno even knew that I was wearing camo, rather than just dirty. The English had secured their third of the island in their oddball fashion, and just ventured on from there. The cultures might speak the same language, but we couldn't be more different, and still be comprehensible. I lowered my lids at him and he rolled his eyes. I snorted and went to make tea. My hair had turned from dark brown (I'd just dyed it a week ago) back to auburn, and he'd dyed his back blood red so we'd clash if we stood too close anyways.

I wondered, as I rummaged through the cabinets for Earl Grey, if he thought that I was a style nut that changed hairstyles like pop chicks changed moods, or if he had just gotten used to the magic. Who knew, he was Dove. He probably didn't notice my hair at all.

"My grandmother called..." Dove was leaning against the doorway into my kitchen, his eyes flickering to the floor to see if dirt was falling off of me in clods. I was fairly sure it wasn't. I almost choked on my own spit at the look on his face. Meemaw definitely had the gift, she'd called up her baby boy the second word drifted along the pyschic network that he was looking an awful lot like, well, Food.

"She wants me to come home and visit shortly." Poor Dove. He wasn't immune to a grandma's wrath. As always I enjoyed him leaving just as much as him coming. They both tended to be abrupt and unexpected. I was proud of my ability to deal with it without bloodshed.

"She also wants to meet you." I dropped the box of tea I was shoving back into the cupboard.

"Me?" I said, shocked.

"Yes." Domhnal's eyes narrowed and he regarded me with a strange sort of suspicion, "You."

I chewed on my lip. I could take some time off of work next week, and hop the pond. I'd have to dig the ground out fast- I wasn't leaving the cats to deal with them.

There it was. The cold water. A hundred memories flashed in front of me. Stealing Jed's bike on a break during the tattoo because he was naive enough to hand me the keys. Standing on a mountain top with my cousin and reaching for the sky. Learning how to camp with my class and my best friend. Learning to shoot with my ex. Drinking Swedish vodka while rolling Japs because the Canucks had hit me so hard I got laid up on the couch. Learning Polish and falling in love. Psychic Christmases. Catholic Mass, where we were welcome once. The Faires and markets in the summer.

Everything that was so American that they just wouldn't have it. I smiled, and jumped.

"Of course, next week, then?"

He wandered away, texting like mad. Off to England then, establish a foothold and make the leap. Bring them the Programme that their erstwhile little girl had being doing things that would take a priest beyond the pale with. Approach the freaking Krauts with it. Don't fail.

I was a lot of things, but I knew I'd always be American. And I'd watched my very English Papa go through hell in mirror image my whole life. I was going to get old pretty soon, but I was still as good once.

My cat slid out from the top of the cupboards and jumped down onto me, I laughed catching her, feeling a few lines click shut as she landed. I was being almost as loud as I accused Dove. I wondered what was going on inside of him that his emotions were going at full blast.

I guess I was about to find that out too....

📷

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