#i feel like the main one that gets attention is ‘’sympathy and serenity’’. which happens to be my personal fave but still

[perenlop]

feels weird to call a pmd game’s soundtrack underrated because like, its pmd, thats something everyone typically agrees on. but gates to infinity’s soundtrack is seriously underrated when compared to the rest of the series

[missmalice202]

Designing Your Melody: Chapter 03 - Candy Hearts

Chapter 01  -  Chapter 02

Luka Couffaine was, under normal circumstances, a pretty chill guy. To anyone who knew him, they would think that nothing could ruffle his feathers. Under normal circumstances.

This was definitely NOT one of those times.

He had been out delivering a package for the courier service he worked part time for when a tornado with midnight blue hair had collided with him, leaving her sprawled out on the sidewalk and the folder she had been carrying exploding like confetti. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how utterly frantic she had been. She had been in such a panic, she even sounded chaotic; a cacophony of discordant notes and clashing chords. Apologizing profusely as she scrambled around to gather her papers, Luka felt the need to grab her hand, if only to distract her long enough to take a breath. It wouldn’t do to have the poor girl pass out in the middle of the street because she had been hyperventilating so hard.

Then, as quickly as she had crashed into him, she took off again, sprinting away as fast as her feet could carry her. Still a little stunned from the encounter, he hadn’t noticed the paper she had left behind in her hurry. But when it crinkled under his boot as he stood back up, he saw it.

He had definitely not anticipated being stunned speechless for a second time so soon after regaining his own stable footing. The sketch she had left behind spoke to his soul on a primal level. Normally, he didn’t let things affect him so strongly, but there was just something about the outfit that she had put to paper that lit a fire in his creative heart. The melody ringing in his ears as he gazed at that paper was overwhelming.

Snapping out of his reverie, Luka had attempted to chase after the girl, but she had disappeared without a trace. He looked down at the design to see if there was anything on it that could point him in the direction of his newest muse. And the fates had smiled down upon him: there, in the bottom right hand corner, were three small letters. MDC.

Relieved that he at least had a tiny clue as to who his mystery designer was, he had carefully folded up the page in his hand, stuck it in the inside pocket of the leather riding jacket he wore when he was making deliveries, and went back to work.

But the melody wouldn’t leave his mind. As he raced his bike through the crowded streets, narrowly avoiding parked cars and pedestrians alike, all he heard echoing in his ears was the same melody, over and over and over again. Playing in a constant loop. Driving him to distraction, which was a dangerous thing to do when fighting through rush hour traffic on the congested city streets.

So he had forced himself to focus, ignoring the tune crying out for his attention.

After he was done with his deliveries for the day, he had pulled out his cell phone, opened up his twitter, and posted his location, allowing his followers to find him if they wanted to come see him perform. He had found that it was easier to use social media to advertise his performances rather than tie himself down with a specific venue at a specific time. It gave him a sense of freedom to showcase his music as little or as much as he wanted. And today, he needed to be surrounded by his own music, if only to drown out the invasive melody still circling around his mind.

He played for a few hours, his guitar case open on the sidewalk in front of him so passers-by could throw some euros in if they liked his sound. But that wasn’t the reason he played. He played for the music itself. Sure, the money he earned was appreciated, but he would have played even without it. To him, music was a part of him, as natural and necessary as breathing. He usually didn’t even have to concentrate on his fingers pressing against the strings of his guitar. But today, he had to really focus to keep his hands from playing the song that was aching to be let out. Once again, he ignored its desperate plea for release. It was still too raw and too personal for public exposure yet. He wouldn’t play that song until he found her again.

Feeling his phone vibrate against his leg from inside his front pocket, he took a break and checked the time. With a smile, he packed up his guitar, slung it over his back, and took off on his bike towards the waterfront where his mother’s houseboat, the Liberty, had been moored. He wasn’t one to live his life by keeping to a schedule, but there was one exception: meeting up with his friends to play a video game he had recently been involved in.

As he pedaled down the streets on his way home, he thought about how such a simple thing as a video game could completely change his day to day life. He usually wasn’t one to spend time in front of a screen. His music took up too much of his time for that. But after hearing his friend and co-collaborator, Nino, talking about how awesome the soundtrack of the game was a few months ago, he had been intrigued. He had gone to Nino’s house for a jam session one day and he had convinced Luka to give it a shot.

That was all it had taken to get him hooked. The music alone would have captivated him, something he hadn’t really considered possible before. Apparently, video game music had come a long way since he had last picked up a controller when he was a little kid. But the game mechanics, the online play, the community of it was what drew him in for good.

Immediately after leaving Nino’s house that afternoon, Luka had gone to the store and picked up a copy of Ultimate Mecha Strike 4 for himself. It wasn’t long before he was spending as much time playing with a controller as he did with his guitar.

Once his DJ friend had realized how into UMS4 Luka had become, he invited him to participate in a few missions with his clan. Apparently, they were a big deal in the gamer world, so Luka thought “why not?” and joined them. Playing with a team brought a whole new feel to the game. He normally had a really hard time communicating with other people; word play had never been his strong suit. But having a degree of separation between him and the person he was talking to in the form of his headset seemed to make it easier for his thoughts to get across. And Nino’s clanmates were nothing short of amazing.

Luka knew that Nino played with some friends of his from high school, but he never told Luka who they were. Which was ok with him. He didn’t need to know anything about the people on the other side of the screen any more than they needed to know anything about him. The anonymity actually made him more comfortable being himself.

Now, months after becoming an official member of “Miraculous Kwami”, Luka considered his clanmates to truly be his friends.

Finally arriving back at the houseboat he called home, he carried his bike down the gangway and hung it from the hooks in the ceiling of the cabin. With his mom backpacking around Europe searching for “the sounds of inspiration”, he and his sister had taken the opportunity to clear out some of the disorder she had been so fond of. He knew that as soon as she returned, chaos would take over the Liberty once again, but for now, the Couffaine siblings would enjoy a bit of serenity in their home.

“What’s up?” he heard a soft voice ask as he came down the stairs leading below deck. He looked over to the blue wrap around couch against the wall and saw his purple-haired sister sitting there, playing on her phone. Juluka had really come out of her shell over the past few years, her budding modeling career probably being the main reason for that. Or possibly her relationship with Rose, her extremely bubbly and energetic girlfriend. Now those two were the epitome of “opposites attract”, but Luka could understand their relationship. What one lacked, the other one made up for. They created a perfect harmony with each other, though sometimes when they got together, they were sweeter than those candy hearts sold during Valentine’s day and left him feeling a bit nauseous. On those occasions, he simply grabbed his guitar and found a park to play in, giving them some privacy to have some alone time. One drawback of living on a boat was thin walls.

“Work was pretty busy,” he answered as he set his guitar on the stand against the wall next to the couch. “I think I rode at least 50 kilometers this morning.” He sighed as he sat down on the couch next to his sister.

“Ouch,” she winced in sympathy, still tapping on her phone, “you’ll be feeling that in the morning. Anything else happen today?” She tucked her purple tipped black hair behind her ear and put her phone down next the her, finally giving her brother her full attention.

“Actually, yeah,” he responded, chuckling to himself. “I got run over by a muse while I was on my break this morning.”

“A what now?” Sometimes her brother could be so weird, she thought.

“This girl crashed into me while she was running somewhere and ever since, I’ve had this song stuck in my head. It won’t go away and it’s driving me a little crazy.” He reached into his jacket pocket to show his sister the source of his inspiration, when her phone started ringing.

“Wow, sounds like you’ve got some songwriting to do,” she murmured as she grabbed her phone and started walking away. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Rose at a little bistro she wanted to try together and I’m already running late. We’ll talk when I get back.”

Watching his sister’s willowy form walk up the stairs, he tucked the folded paper securely back into his pocket before withdrawing his hand from inside his jacket and heading further into the cabin to where his bunk was located.

After checking his phone to confirm the time, he took off his riding jacket and set it next to him on his bunk. Game time, he thought to himself, grabbing his teal tinted controller from the charging dock next to his bed. Donning a set of blue headphones and he was ready.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Luka was the first to arrive at his clan’s hideout tonight, it would seem. He walked around for a bit while he waited for the others to load in. After only a few minutes, he saw a notification pop up in the lower corner of his screen. LADYBUG is online. He smiled. Out of all the members of his clan, he enjoyed playing with Ladybug the most. There was just something about her voice that resonated in his ears when he talked to her. The distortion through the headphones wasn’t enough to mask how clear her voice was, like the ringing of a bell.

He turned his avatar around so he could see hers when she arrived at their base. When he saw her avatar pop on screen in front of him, he pressed the button on his controller to perform an elaborate bow. “Good evening, Lady luck,” he playfully greeted her.

“Hi there, Viperion. Long time no see,” she responded with a wave.

“What’s the plan for tonight? Who else is going to be on, do you know?” A small part of him wanted it to be just the two of them. It wasn’t often that they got to play as a pair since they were usually joined by the other members, but he enjoyed spending time with the red and black lady.

She walked over to where his avatar was standing. “I just got off the phone with Rena, so she should be joining us soon. I haven’t spoken with Carapace or Chat today, but I haven’t heard of any reason why they shouldn’t be on. Did any of the others say anything to you about when they would be on after I logged off the other night?”

“Monkey said something about preparing for a competition, so he might not be able to get on, but Pegasus said he’d be here a little later. And as far as I know, Ryuko is planning on being here.”

“That’s good. We have enough people to try for that bow you’ve been wanting. It’s a limited time event, so we need to grab it for you while we have the chance. I know I’m going to be busy for the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?” He was interested in what could possibly pull her away from her favorite game. Ladybug was almost always online, even if she was just lurking around their hideout, chatting with the other members of their clan.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’ve got a really important project coming up and I need to focus on that. I already royally screwed up today, and I can’t afford to make any more mistakes.” Just by the tone of her voice, Luka could tell that she was upset about her blunder.

“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps to share the burden with someone else.”

Her soft giggle echoed in his ears. “Thanks, Viperion. I’m good. I already ranted to Rena about it, so I’m fine now. Just a little stressed out.” She sighed. “This project is the biggest thing I’ve ever done and it could make or break my entire career.”

“Okay, just remember that if you ever need to vent or anything, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”

Just then, other notifications began popping up on his screen.

CHAT NOIR is online.

CARAPACE is online.

RENA ROUGE is online.

“Looks like the gang is starting to arrive,” Ladybug commented. “Let’s get to work.”

“Ready whenever you are,” he responded with a smirk. “Let’s get that loot.”

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Setting his controller back on the charging dock, Luka stood up and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back to work out the kinks that had developed after sitting in the same position for such a long period of time. Glancing at his cell phone to see how long he’d been at it, he was shocked to discover it was almost midnight! He had to get to sleep ASAP. He had to head to the studio in the morning for a recording session with Jagged Stone.

After his regular guitarist, Vivica, had taken some time off for maternity leave, the rock legend had been desperate to find someone to fill in. When he had shown up at the Liberty and discovered that his former guitarist and Luka’s mom, Anarka, was no longer in the city and therefore no longer available to help, Jagged had heard Luka playing and immediately asked him to fill in whenever he had the time.

At first, Luka had been shocked that his idol wanted to work with him. But over time, the novelty had worn off as he realized that Jagged had a tendency to be completely immature at times and extremely temperamental. Luckily, it took quite a bit to ruffle Luka’s feathers and he usually ignored the megastar when he was having a meltdown.

Mentally preparing himself for the trials he was sure to endure at tomorrow’s recording session, Luka took a deep breath, holding it for a moment with his eyes closed before slowly exhaling. He stripped off his clothes and slipped between his sheets clad only in his boxers.

Turning his bedside light off, he closed his eyes and felt himself drift off to sleep, the melody that had been plaguing him all day now acting as a lullaby and lulling him to sleep.

Chapter 04

*This chapter was really hard for me to put together. I knew what I wanted to happen, and I saw it happen in my head, but apparently, Luka is a little stubborn when it comes to being put onto paper. Hopefully he isn’t so temperamental next chapter, because he’s such a sweet, soft boy that I’d hate to have to do anything bad to him because he made me angry hahaha. Until next time XOXO*

[oldfashionedtransguy-blog]

Compared to non transvestites

Compared to non transvestites, the transvestites are more inhibited in their interpersonal relationships, less involved with other individuals and more independent. They seek less sympathy, love and help from others.Here are a few specs on the-book; its 173 pages are loaded with the techniques and tricks of the trade, from makeup to female pheromones. This book shows you products and techniques for creating the soft female skin, silky smooth to touch. It comes packed with all the fashion tips, dressing tips as well as a list of accessories to help you enhance the feminine look even further.If you are able to treat yourself, there are increasingly more make-over services providing a one-stop shop for a head to toe feminization treatment. You will be given advice on hair, make-up, underwear, clothes and shoes to go away and experiment with, giving you greater confidence to explore your feminine self.From what I have seen so far, I have to say that this cross dressing guide happens to be a book that sticks to the topic and does not use the same as a gimmick for advertising porn. This guide comes packed with all the tips, techniques you need to change into the perfect woman, from tip to the soles of your feet. This book is loaded with content that should give you the right pointers in getting rid off that messy body hair, the painless way as well as the rest of what you will require in order to change into a woman. From creating that cleavage to methods to hide that unseemly bulge, you can literally use this guide as a one stop cross dressing junction point to deal with myriad issues.

Fetishism is one of the most puzzling of all forms of sexual behaviour. It is chronic and in some cases the collection of objects is the main activity in the individual's life. Nobody has been able to explain why fetishism occurs but a range of theories varying from unconscious motivations to impaired neural mechanisms have put forward their thoughts, but the true causes still remains a mystery.Crossdressing is becoming ever more popular and accepted within today's more modern and accepting society. However, for the majority of crossdressers and transgender people it is very important to not only dress in women's clothes but to totally pass as a member of the opposite sex without any question. If you're like me, when I first started out, it was hard to be recognised and even laughed at behind my back as a man dressing as a woman. Therefore, I took steps to learn how to cross dress and develop my crossdressing techniques, cross dressing tips, new tricks to pass and feminization methods so that no one could even tell that I wasn't a genetic woman.Men are naturally taught not to show any feminine qualities and to only do "manly" things while women are taught to behave differently from childhood. To pass off as a genetic female, one would need to act like a woman and do exactly as a woman does, which is to be compassionate and caring.I now have what I consider to be less leg hair than a normal woman, the monkey legs of my past are but a distant memory!

If you have blonde to light brown natural hair colour and eyebrows, stick to the lighter colours on the spectrum or possibly ginger colours.Transvestism means cross-dressing. It is known to be common among heterosexual males however; cases where females were involved are also reported. An example is the case of Billy Tipton, a successful jazz musician in the 1930's. Tipton had been married and had adopted three sons. When he died in 1980, the funeral director discovered that he was biologically, a woman.Envision more changes. Feel free to change whatever you have always wanted to change. Here, it will be easy. Here, you are at the source of your being, directly inserting your love and care. Give yourself the time and attention you need. Gaze at the beauty of this light, your light, and send the next thoughts of change into its heart. Watch the dance of beauty it causes in the stream of light. The colors, the glow, the warmth, and the beauty, all swirling and dancing joyfully. Take your time. What else do you desire for yourself? Give yourself beautiful eyes, healthy knees, strong muscles, flowing hair, and soft skin. Bless yourself with the strength of gratefulness and the beauty of independence. Send your energy into the light and watch it transform.Savor this feeling of knowing you have finally become what you have always dreamed of. Trust the big change and acknowledge it with gratefulness and happiness. You feel confident. You are now ready to face a world that is awaiting your new self, a world ready to change according to your transformation. As you feel this confidence, this certainty, gratefully wave goodbye to the fireworks of colors dancing in your body. Feel them brighten, lighten, and gradually dance away, leaving your body and mind in a state of divine serenity and complete relaxation.

[ethospathoslogan]

the good kind of distracting; sanders sides/logicality college!au

A/N: i managed to finish this before valentine’s day finished!!! which is semi-fitting ;)

summary: “Logan, you’re rambling. What are you so nervous about?” Patton asked with a frown. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t have to be nervous! It’s me!” “And that’s exactly it! It’s you!” Logan exclaimed. Logan has feelings for Patton that he can't quite understand. To have someone so open, so bright, right in front of him, picking off bricks one by one from the walls that had been around him for years, it sent a jolt of nerves through him. He just wasn’t quite sure if they were fear for what could happen, or the want to see what would.

main pairing: logicality (logan/patton)

series on ao3 read on ao3

As Logan expected would happen, it did not take long for Patton to stick around. With seeing Virgil regularly and the trio’s door always being open to him, Patton soon found his place among the three of them. Now that Patton was with them as much as another college student balancing assignments and a life could be, Logan realized that now he cannot see their group without him.

Patton added a nice balance to the group, which Logan, at first, was surprised to discover. Or, more so, his surprise came upon realizing that Patton grew closest with Virgil first. An optimistic extrovert who thrived off of seeing the best in every single person and situation, Patton was the complete opposite of anxious, shy, better-suspicious-than-sorry Virgil. Every single outcome pointed to them being aggravated by the others presence, both unable to understand the others outlook on life, and yet any onlooker would think that Virgil and Patton had been friends for years. Logan did not question exactly how it happened; he knew when something wasn’t his business. But he did find it safe to assume that the pair helped each other in a way that he didn’t think he quite understood, yet.

Patton and Roman, understandably, easily became friends. Compassionate and encouraging Patton was everything the creative, outgoing, yet sometimes insecure Roman needed. Where Logan, who did not believe himself to be creatively inclined, could only offer someone to vent to when Roman found himself in the midst of a block, Patton was there to be able to work with Roman and help him through the mental block that had him set back. Patton could bounce off of Roman’s energy just as easily as he could calm him down when his racing, daydreaming mind was ready to get the best of him. The two extroverts easily kept conversation flowing, and Roman and Patton found a constant person to go out with when the other two were occupied.

Yet, Logan’s observations of his own relationship somehow shocked him the most.

(“You can’t sit here and analyze every friendship you make,” Roman had told him one day. “They just happen, and that’s the best part!”

“Perhaps,” Logan had agreed. “But people naturally gravitate to those who share similar interests, those who can help them as much as they themselves could do to the other. Don’t you think any of that is worth thinking about?”)

Patton, in a way, was everything Logan was not. Not in a way similar to how Virgil and Patton, or even Virgil and Roman, were different. Patton was emotional. He made decisions based on what he felt in his heart instead of analyzing each path -and its corresponding results- accordingly. Patton had hope that there was good in every person he met, and he gave pity and sympathy to those who, in Logan’s eyes, did not deserve so. Yet, he was not a pushover. He was governed by his heart but had a fair sense of what was right and what wasn’t. He refused to let people walk over those he cared about, nor did he stand idly by when his friends tore themselves down.

Then, there was Logan. In his decision making, his feelings might as well have had the last say. He found no use in making decisions based on emotions; they were fleeting, temporary, temperamental. Someone once called him emotionally repressed, and perhaps they were not wrong in noting that Logan had a harder time understanding feelings than most, but he did not believe that discounted any of his decision making. He found it better to make decisions based on what made sense after thinking through every option. It was what would lead to a result that led to the least amount of conflict.

Yet, for all the times Logan and Patton had come to disagreements in their thoughts, they never once fought. Logan, despite his introversion, was not one to keep his voice at bay when he believed he was right. But that was usually when he was dealing with others who, also, believed that only they were correct. Patton, though, understood, or at least attempted to. He did not try to put down Logan’s thoughts, as many others had done before, and instead stepped back to try to see where Logan was coming from. He never came into a disagreement with aggravation or annoyance; he just wanted to see what was going on in Logan’s head to figure out if they could find a compromise and, many times, succeeded in doing such. Whenever they talked, whether it be over coffee at a cafe table, sticky notes in the library, or the loud thump of either of his roommates’ music, they managed to reach a conclusion where neither were unhappy.

Logan very rarely found people who could so easily see into the workings of his mind, not to mention a person who was not put off by someone so stark in contrast.

And Logan, now that he found someone who listened and… cared, couldn’t get that someone out of his mind. He didn’t think he wanted to, either.

His mind worked through all of this as the four of them sat outside. It was midway through September, and the suffocating heat and humidity of August had finally broken into something manageable. The small group was situated under a tree, isolated on the outskirts of campus. Students bustled by on their way to classes or lunch plans, and they were left undisturbed. Roman was lying on one of the blanket they had brought out, propped up on his elbows with headphones in, a textbook beneath him, and a highlighter in hand. He bobbed his head to whatever song was playing and used the highlighter to more so color in the textbook than actually take notes. Virgil was lying on his back on a shared blanket with Patton. A single headphone was in his ear and his eyes shut. His head lolling slightly to the side showed that he was on the brink of unconsciousness.

Patton was lying next to him, his hands clasped behind his head and his blue eyes looking up at the sky through the tree branches. Whatever sun that had managed to shine through shone specs onto him that could have been taken as a natural glimmer coming from him. He looked completely and utterly serene amid the three of them. A small smile rested on his lips and his chest rose and fell with ease.

Logan, who was sitting up against the tree itself, couldn’t help but notice. His legs outstretched, a notebook rested on his thighs but it had been long ignored for a while now. He wasn’t typically one for daydreaming, but he also wasn’t typically one for being so distracted from his schoolwork by boys.

“Logan,” Patton suddenly said, his head tilting in his direction. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

You, Logan immediately thought before brushing it aside. “What makes you think I’m thinking about something?” he asked instead.

Patton’s smile met his eyes. “I can practically hear you thinking all the way over here,” he said. “And you’ve had the tip of your pen pressed against your notebook for about five minutes and yet, instead of writing, you’ve just been staring out into nowhere.”

Logan looked down at the blank notebook page and saw that the ink from his pen had began to bleed through the pages. Patton had been watching him, or at least glancing at him, and he was so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed. “I guess I am a bit distracted,” he agreed.

“Well, what’s on your mind?” Patton asked. He rolled over onto his stomach before pushing himself up onto his elbows. Virgil elbowed him for disturbing his almost slumber but Patton paid no attention. “Everything alright?”

Logan huffed out a breath through his nose and looked back down at his notebook. In the margins, he began to draw a small spiral that eventually grew wider and wider. We fit together better than I thought we would, he thought. I don’t understand feelings well, but I want to begin to understand yours more, understand you more. “I’m just tired,” he said. “I was up late writing a report last night and I guess I’m just reaping the consequences.”

Virgil, who now of course regained most of his consciousness, cracked an eye open at hearing that. Logan hoped that he wouldn’t mention that Logan, for once, did not have any work to do last night, and instead actually got a reasonable amount of sleep.

“Well then, why don’t you take a break,” Patton suggested. “It’s a beautiful day out, you don’t want to spend all of it with your nose in a book.”

Logan sighed. “Well, I do have work to do and-”

“And it will still be there when you get back,” Patton said. “Come on, Lo, just a couple of minutes. I could use someone to talk to since Virg is sleeping-”

“Trying to,” Virgil muttered.

“-and Roman is studying,” Patton continued.

“More like coloring,” Logan said.

Patton beamed. “Or that,” he agreed. “But, still! Put down your notebook and come lay here with us! That tree cannot be a comfortable back rest.”

“This blanket is not big enough for three,” Virgil said with slight annoyance in his voice at being disturbed. “And we literally brought out a third blanket.”

Patton then pushed himself up off the blanket and onto his feet. “Exactly,” Patton said. “And Virgil does need his sleep, so-” he held out a hand to Logan “-let’s get our own blanket!”

Logan only hesitated for a second before giving Patton his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. He dropped his notebook and pen to the grass as Patton grabbed the third, neatly folded blanket.

“We shouldn’t disturb them,” Patton said, leading them a couple paces away. “Since we’re gonna talk and hang out and you’re going to chill, we should at least be considerate.” Patton grinned and Logan couldn’t help but smile back. He helped Patton lay down the blanket on the grass before laying back down next to him.

Once he was situated, he noticed that Roman had been looking over in their direction. He raised an eyebrow at Logan and Logan looked away, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

Patton’s eyes were back on the sky. “It’s such a beautiful day out,” he repeated, his voice soft.

Logan’s eyes were on him. “I suppose,” he said, not quite concerned about the weather.

“You suppose?” Patton questioned with a raised eyebrow but also a smile. He tilted his head towards Logan. “You don’t have to think so much right now. Just lie back and relax. You do know how to do that, don’t you?”

“Am I sensing some sarcasm, Patton?” Logan asked, grinning as Patton let out a laugh. “That’s it, Virgil is too much of an influence on you. We already have his sarcasm fueled by his sardonicism, Roman’s fueled by his ego, and my clever brand of sarcasm, which is clearly the superior of the three. We cannot have you, too.”

“Well, what would my brand of sarcasm be?”

“Kind sarcasm,” Logan said.

“Yeah, the kinda sarcasm that comes when you least expect it,” Patton laughed. Logan would admit, he was impressed with Patton’s quickness at making the joke.

Logan sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Despite ‘kind sarcasm’ not being one of my brightest statements, the fact that you turned it into a pun wounds me,” he said, not nearly as serious as he let on. He did have a sense of humor, and one that actually did favor towards sarcasm and puns, but he wasn’t ready for that to be used against him yet.

“But I think you found it funny,” Patton beamed, poking Logan’s cheek. Logan let his smile slip through. “See! I can see right through you, Specs, I know that you find my jokes funny.”

“You keep believing that, Patton,” Logan said, though even he wasn’t quite sure whether he was addressing the first part of Patton’s statement or the first. Would he want Patton to know just how easily he got through to Logan? How comfortable he felt with Patton around? To tell someone that, to let them know that they so easily had him figured out, it would give them an immense amount of power. Logan doubted that Patton would even think of using it against him, but no one had ever had this effect on Logan before.

To give that power out, to make that trust and comfort known, it would be as if Logan’s walls came crashing down. He didn’t intend to put borders around himself, originally. He just liked to keep his heart on his cheek and let logic and analyzations do the work. And when people began to see him as emotionless, a “robot” as some dubbed him, he figured it would be best to keep what he felt at bay so that others could not see what they inflicted upon him. One thing led to another and, eventually, Logan just believed it would be best to keep emotions out of his thinking.

To have someone so open, so bright, right in front of him, picking off bricks one by one from the walls that had been around him for years, it sent a jolt of nerves through him.

He just wasn’t quite sure if they were fear for what could happen, or the want to see what would.

--

When Patton had to leave for a late afternoon class, Logan, Roman, and Virgil decided that they would leave as well. Roman had finished reading (coloring) the chapter he was reading, Virgil was finished with drifting in and out of consciousness if it meant that he wouldn’t actually get to sleep, and Logan’s notebook had remained unwritten in the entire time he was hanging with Patton, which was the entire time. When they arrived back at their dorm, Virgil practically threw himself onto his bed, his head flopping down onto his pillow.

“You cannot tell me that you’re still tired,” Roman said, tossing his textbook onto his own bed. Logan took a seat at his desk, sifting through the papers he had left.

“Actually, I can tell you that, Princey,” Virgil said, lifting his head up. “And, apparently, Logan is too, after all that sleep he told Patton he totally didn’t get.”

Logan’s fingers froze on the papers. He was happy Virgil hadn’t mentioned the miniscule white lie around Patton, but he was also hoping it just wouldn’t come up at all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan said, keeping his voice level. He could feel Roman’s stare on the back of his head.

“Come on, Logan, you know I’m quite the fighter for honesty,” Virgil pressed. Logan sighed with an eye roll and turned in his chair to face his emo nightmare of a roommate.

“How do you know that I wasn’t up late last night?” Logan asked stupidly.

Virgil deadpanned at him. “Because I live with you, and you were out cold last night.”

“I feel like I missed a step in this conversation,” Roman interjected.

“You were listening to your showtunes or whatever,” Virgil said. “Basically, Logan was spacing out, Patton asked why, and Logan, for whatever reason, said he was up late doing homework instead of just saying, y’know, that he was spacing out.”

“You know, I thought you were supposed to be sleeping when all of this happened,” Logan shot at him.

Virgil shot him a smirk as Roman turned to him. “Out of all the things you could lie about ever… to anyone, you choose that one?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Logan huffed. “I don’t know, I panicked, it’s just what I said,” he said, flicking his hands in defense.

“Why would you be nervous when talking to Patton, come on, Lo, it’s-” Logan suddenly saw Roman put two and two together and come to the conclusion that Logan didn’t really feel like discussing yet. “-Patton! It’s Patton!”

Virgil raised himself up onto his elbows, glancing between the two of them. “Yeah, Roman, I said, like, five minutes ago that it was Patton.”

“No wonder you two were so isolated today!” Roman exclaimed, not paying attention to Virgil’s comment. “I mean, I just can’t believe that we -especially me- didn’t notice it earlier. I feel like now that you mention it-”

“I didn’t mention it,” Logan interjected. “I very much did not mention it.”

“-It should have been so obvious!” Roman continued.

“What should have been obvious?” Virgil asked, looking up at Roman through his bangs.

“Virg, do me a favor and brush those bangs out of your eyes, it will help you see this-” he waved a hand in Logan’s direction “-and this-” he gestured to himself with a wink “-better! Logan likes Patton!”

Virgil swung his head around to look at Logan with furrowed eyebrows. “You like Patton?”

“I don’t know!” Logan exclaimed.

“You don’t know? That’s a shitty answer,” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil I hadn’t noticed,” Logan said pointedly, glaring at his friend.

“Well how do you not know?” Roman asked, crossing his arms. “It’s either a yes or a no, typically.”

“I don’t know,” Logan repeated, turning back to his desk and aimlessly fumbling with his papers. “I don’t- I don’t usually feel like this towards people. Forgive me for not knowing how to act.”

“Well, how do you feel?” Roman asked, his tone less eccentric and more gentle.

Logan could feel his friends’ eyes on him, and even though he did appreciate the talk, no matter how hectic it was, he wasn’t used to all the attention directed just at how he was feeling. He thought for a couple moments, thankful for Roman and Virgil giving him the silence to think. “Patton,” he paused again, thinking about his next word. “Understands. You guys understand, too, but this is… different. Patton understands, and I want to understand Patton more. I want to know Patton more, know what he thinks, how he thinks, what he likes…” Logan worried his bottom lip, staring down at the stack of papers but not seeing them. “Know him. In a way that is… more than what I initially expected. He’s distracting but it’s a good kind, and if you guys know anything about me, I don’t typically like being distracted.”

Roman and Virgil were silent for a moment and Logan’s fingers tensed around the paper. He suddenly worried that he said something wrong, said something weird and that his friends were currently judging him for how disconnected he was with his feelings and-

“From what it sounds like, I think you like him,” Roman said.

“You definitely like him,” Virgil said, sitting up.

“Well, what do I do?” Logan asked. He usually knew how to approach situations and how to handle them properly. With this, though, he was completely lost.

“Tell him?” Roman suggested.

The look both Virgil and Logan gave him caused him to huff and roll his eyes. “Well, what else are you going to do? Let it fester until it becomes all consuming and it drives you mad not knowing if he likes you back?”

“I would let it fester,” Virgil said.

“And that is why I am the one giving advice, Charlie Frown,” Roman said.

“There’s so much potential for this to go wrong, though,” Logan said. “Let’s say I tell him. Then what? It gets awkward, or he doesn’t like me back? He distances himself, or has a worse reaction? Many things can go wrong here, Roman, and I currently don’t have any preparations for what to do if any of these situations were to play out.”

“Okay, I know you’re nervous, but you know Patton would do none of that,” Roman said. “He’s basically America’s Sweetheart. I don’t think you have to worry about any negative reactions.”

“Besides, he talks about you when we’re together,” Virgil said.

“You couldn’t have said that earlier?” Roman asked, whipping his head around to Virgil and raising an eyebrow.

“What can I say, I love dramatic tension,” Virgil smirked. “As long as it’s not about me.”

Logan had been staring at Virgil the entire time. “He… talks about me?”

“Yeah, all the time,” Virgil said. “I know I just said that I personally would let it fester but, if you tell him and he doesn’t like you back, then something is just fucking off in the world.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, turning his gaze back to his hands. His papers had long since fell from them, now out from their neat pile on his desk. “I don’t even know how I would tell him,” he admitted.

“You just… do?” Roman said weakly. Logan slid him a look that caused him to backtrack on his words. “Well I would be doing a romantic gesture! But that’s me, and knowing you, I know that that is not you. For you, Lo, I think the best might just be telling him. Your words are your greatest tool, we all know it.”

Logan looked to Virgil.

“Don’t look at me,” Virgil said, putting his hands up. “Roman gave better advice than I could even think of giving.”

Logan huffed and adjusted his glasses. His mind was racing because there were too many possibilities, too many outcomes for what could happen if he told Patton, but what was truly sending his mind haywire and his pulse into overdrive was the fact that he wanted to tell Patton.

“I… I think I will,” Logan managed out. “I’ll tell him. I think.”

Roman beamed. “Perfect,” he said. “And we will help you and support you through everything and anything that happens!”

--

Logan learned from Patton that, on Thursday afternoons, he returned to his dorm as soon as his roommate left for a class. The hour and fifteen minutes that it was just Patton in his room meant that it was his time for peace and quiet. He would use the time to review material from previous classes and recharge for the remainder of the day, which was usually spent out with friends.

Logan, who had been standing outside Patton’s door doing nothing for two minutes now, suddenly regretted choosing this time to go and speak with Patton. Originally, him and Roman had considered it a good idea since it was the time where he was most likely to find Patton alone. But now, what if Logan was interrupting him? What if Patton was busy and Logan was just going to serve as a nuisance?

What if his roommate never went to class and Patton wasn’t alone? Historically, neither Roman, Virgil, or Logan got alone with the Resident Asshole living in Patton’s room, and to see him there with Patton would make things more awkward and tense than they already were and-

“Okay, yeah,” Logan said to himself, cutting off his own thought. “This is not happening today.”

Logan turned on his heel and began the walk back down the hall. He would very calmly return to his dorm and alert his roommates that today was not the day for grand gestures (at least, in his opinion it was grand) and then resort to lying in bed staring at the ceiling all day because his nerves were too frayed to focus on anything. He would probably internally monologue about how he has no clue what he is doing and is probably the person equipped the worst for this type of situation. Sure, Logan knew how to use his words, but Patton just seemed like he would be an expert at this and Logan would probably humiliate himself before-

His feet jolted him to a halt when he heard a door open and shut behind him. Before he could even begin to hope that it was just one of the other various people who lived on their floor, he heard an extremely familiar voice excitedly say, “Logan!”

Logan hesitated only a second before turning back around. He willed a smile to go on his face as Patton approached him. “Patton, hello,” he greeted warmly as he attempted to regulate his heartbeat.

“What are you doing in my neck of the hall?” Patton asked, grinning. “Usually it’s me all the way down there with you three.”

“Actually, I came to see you,” Logan said.

“How funny!” Patton said. “I was just on my to see you guys! I had barely any work to do in the first place so once I finished I just felt like I was gonna lose it if I didn’t go out and see my three closest friends. So, onwards!”

“Actually, Patton,” Logan said, stopping himself from placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder to stop him. “I was wondering if we could talk.” A pause. “Alone.”

Patton furrowed his eyebrows. “Sure, Lo, of course,” he said, concern already etched into his voice. He lead Logan back to his dorm and unlocked the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, everything’s fine,” Logan fumbled, mentally kicking himself for making it sound like things were not okay and fine. “I just… want to talk.”

“As you’ve said already,” Patton said as he shut the door behind them. He gave Logan an easy smile, sitting down at his desk. “So, what’s up?”

“I-” Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses, looking anywhere but at Patton. Shit, he hadn’t even started yet and he was already terrible. “Roman and Virgil -well, mostly Roman- urged me to do this and -not saying that I wasn’t going to do this anyway because I was- and I honestly have no clue what I’m doing -which isn’t really average for me, you know? I tend to only do things that I know I can properly think through and understand because that’s just how I am- and-”

“Logan, you’re rambling. What are you so nervous about?” Patton asked with a frown. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t have to be nervous! It’s me!”

“And that’s exactly it! It’s you!” Logan exclaimed.

A beat of silence passed in between them. “Logan,” Patton said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“I-” Logan dragged a hand through his hair. “I like you, Patton. Quite a lot, actually. And I… I understand nothing about any of this. I haven’t really… felt like this about someone before. I never really let myself. I always chose my mind over my heart because it seemed like the smarter thing to do. But, now… I can’t ignore it. I can’t hold back these feelings. And… I want to try. I think to not try would be idiotic. I want to feel this way, and I want to feel this way with you, Patton.”

Patton blinked at him. “Oh,” he said, his voice gentle.

Logan felt a twinge in his heart. Oh. “I mean, of course you do not have to reciprocate. This isn’t me saying that you have to - I can leave if you need me to- and if you want to still hang out with Roman and Virgil I can go to the library I still have a lot of work to do- I always have work to do so it’s really no bother- I’ll just be going-”

“Logan,” Patton said, rising from his chair. Logan snapped his mouth shut. Patton effortlessly, easily, closed the gap between them and cupped Logan’s jaw softly, gently, a touch that Logan now thought he always needed. “I think I might have an answer to your question.” His voice was gentle, quiet, words just for the two of them.

“Please,” Logan breathed, his heart hammering in his chest.

Patton then pulled Logan down to him, their lips meeting in the middle. Patton easily fell into it and Logan let himself be guided. His hands fumbled, unsure of where they should be, until they found their place on Patton’s hips.

The kiss was short, sweet. When they pulled away, their cheeks were flushed a deep red. Patton traced his thumbs along Logan’s jaw.

Logan felt that every thought in his mind and nerve in his body had been silenced and put into a state of utter serenity.

The moment Patton’s blue eyes met Logan’s brown, Patton dissolved into a fit of giggles. The calmness that had settled in Logan was almost completely reversed until Patton said, “I’ve been waiting for this to happen!”

“Wait, really?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I was scared that it was never going to because you’re so calm and cool and collected, I was so nervous that this was just one sided!”

At that, Logan couldn’t hold back laughter, either. “Funny that you say that, Patton,” he said. “I have been expressing the same fears to Roman and Virgil for the past couple days. Speaking of which, Roman requested that I give him every detail of this, no matter the results.”

“You had doubts?”

“You know me, Patton, I have to prepare for every possible outcome,” Logan shrugged.

Patton beamed. “Don’t think so much. Just let these things happen, Lo,” he said. He then pulled away from Logan and held out his hand. “So, how about we go tell Roman and Virgil the good news?”

--

Logan and Patton didn’t even have the chance to say anything when they walked in. The moment they walked in hand-in-hand, Roman shot up from sitting at his desk and practically bellowed out, “I called it!”

[janeaustentextposts]

Whenever I read an Austen novel, I keep thinking that everything is moving too fast! Couples love each other in such a short period of time. Do you know if in real life things went that way too, or is it just a novel thing?

Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well.

It’s a bit of both, I think.

Everything in Austen’s time seems hurried, to our perspectives, perhaps, given that people back then were given maturity at a comparatively greater rate than we tend to see in Western culture, now. There was really no higher academia beyond the four-year programme of study for those who attended a university, and women didn’t do that at the time, so essentially for most people of the genteel and aristocratic classes, you’d be considered an adult anywhere from 15 or 16 (for girls) to 22 (for the university-educated boys). Maaaaybe tack on a Grand Tour to complete a gentleman’s education, but there’s no real time-limit on that and there’s no rules that say a dude can’t fuck shit up like a grown man while he’s touring the Continent. And people tended to die a lot younger, so it made sense not to waste too much time establishing a family and a legacy if you could afford to do it.

Austen also isn’t very interested in explaining much of how people fall in love--for many we’re just told it happens. We don’t get lots of scenes of couples’ interactions and dialogue and heated glances...but that’s a part of everything being rather restrained by the courtship etiquette of the times. Men had to be careful not to raise expectations in the hopes and affections of ladies they are not serious about marrying or cannot propose to, (looking at you, Frederick and Edward...) and women had to take care not to look too eager if they could not feel themselves certain of soon receiving an offer in good faith. (Jane Bennet and Elinor both experience the pitfalls of being too good at looking Not Eager, whereas Marianne crosses this line and suffers for it.) Fanny Price strikes the appropriate balance--though Austen seems to be a little satirical about it, as Fanny has no real wish to encourage Mr. Crawford at all...and she is applauded for her calm response to his courtship. It’s kind of a messy set of rules once individuals with feelings and extenuating circumstances get involved, but I think that’s one of Austen’s main points--where supposed civility and restraint can largely be a good theory, in practice, where it clouds our honesty and perception, it may be better to consider honest communication of true feeling before rigid propriety.

And, as Marianne says in Sense and Sensibility: “Seven years would be insufficient to  make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.” She’s pushing things to an extreme, obviously, but her basic philosophy is pretty solid--such are polite conversation and the structures of society that one could spend a great deal of time in someone’s company and fail to gain much knowledge of them, if one chose to maintain superficial interactions. Where curious observation or natural inclination might allow people to better grasp a sense of another person’s character, however, their intimacy might increase at a more rapid pace. (Not so rapid as seven days, though, Marianne, holy shit.)

Charlotte expands upon these ideas in the early chapters of Pride and Prejudice, while she and Elizabeth are discussing Jane and Bingley’s acquaintance. Elizabeth, biased by her own lifelong and intimate knowledge of her sister‘s character, moods, and expressions, has little doubt of Jane’s feelings, and while Charlotte, a good friend to the family, likely sees a little of this as well, she wisely cautions Lizzy, warning her that Bingley, being so new to the neighbourhood and to Jane’s acquaintance, cannot begin to fathom how to read her character as her own family and long-time friends might.Lizzy is not unreasonable as she says “As yet, [Jane] cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its reasonableness. She has known [Bingley] only  a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since  dined in company with him four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character.” Clearly Elizabeth advocates for a reasonable level of pace to the growth of a deeper acquaintance and affection, but she presumes that they have time enough for it, and also relies on her own quick perceptions and the keen insight into people’s characters which she so prides herself on (and, as it turns out, she’s more than a little...off the mark, about some people.)

Charlotte then replies with her infamous remark: “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.” As a foil to Lizzy, of course, Charlotte’s coolly logical recipe for matrimony is not one to result in overwhelming affection, clearly; but her basic point balances out the faults in Lizzy’s argument--no marriage is perfect, and living together as spouses will reveal to people the kinds of flaws and disagreements which only such an intimate partnership can provide, and so Charlotte’s acceptance of this eventuality is quite rational and mature, even if her pragmatic nature takes it to a loveless extreme compared to Lizzy’s more die-hard romantic idealism. As with most of Austen’s contrasts between characters in a lively debate, I think the author’s sympathies tend to fall somewhere in the middle, where one can see the advantages in allowing both a more thoughtful pace to a courtship, as well as the pitfalls of dancing around the issue for too damn long and to no real purpose.Charlotte is, ultimately, proven correct (or, more correct than Lizzy, at least,) as Jane’s serenity and general good-nature lead Darcy to presume she feels nothing deeper for Bingley than the common sweetness she shows everybody, and is perhaps spurred on more by her mother’s open encouragement to draw the attention of a rich man, and Bingley is easily persuaded, both by his own impressionable nature, and his inability to fathom the nuances of Jane’s expressions.

And consider what we think of as love and marriage, today. In a world which allows easy cohabitation and common-law status for couples which would never have been condoned in the rigid moral structure of Austen’s class and times, we have the luxury of choosing just how well, and just how quickly, we get to know and trust a romantic partner. Whether you move in together after a week or stay together for twenty years with separate apartments before you even consider getting a pet together, how wise it is and how well it works out is really dependent on the individuals involved, what they’re looking for, and what feels right, for them. With fewer options in Austen’s time and a condensed timeline for a person to grow up in and establish their own household on their own terms...there’s really no reason to delay marriage, once you’ve decided you are fond enough of someone (or their circumstances) to make or accept an offer; and in the context of Proper Courtship, there’s really a plateau stage in which you get stuck and can’t get much further in getting to know someone without marrying them, unless you’re willing to spend A Lot of time on those dainty little polite conversations that advance an acquaintance as a snail’s pace. Which is great for the cautious romantics out there, but, uh...Jane Bennet isn’t getting any younger, and with the general urge to women to Settle Well, you might just risk losing your intended to another suitor who is more johnny-on-the-spot.

[ben-j-man]

Secret War chapter 32

Link to chapter 1- http://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/180097372453/secret-war-chapter-1 

*Author's Note the part when Attelus tells of the man saying he was beautiful was based on something that happened to me, being an unrepentant author avatar, thought I would throw in more stuff that has happened to me.

I walked with Arlathan and Vex on my flanks, up to the cockpit. I fought the urge to look at Adelana as I passed by her but I could sense that her eyes were on me.

I entered the cockpit, finding Darrance was still at the controls, it was quite large, with five seats. Verenth was at the sensor screen, Helma sat at the console of the Lascannon and Vark, the Plasma cannon.

"Everyone's on board," I said as I took the co-pilot's seat. "You ready to take off?"

"Yes," he stated, and I'd never heard him sound so serene. "I have gotten used to the controls. I'll be able to handle this."

"I had no idea you could pilot voidcraft," I said. "It's mighty bloody convenient if you ask me."

Darrance snorted and with quick hands began to push buttons and flick seemingly random knobs around and said, "you have no idea about anything, Attelus."

I frowned and furrowed my brow and heard the others chuckling at my expense.

The Guncutter shook and abruptly lifted off the ground, making my stomach sink in sympathy.

Darrance took the wheel with his one good hand, his broken one was not in a caste and a sling, "if you really must know I am the son of a long line of voidship builders, a dynasty if you will. My father taught me from a very young age how to control them, I was his eldest son and was in line to take over from him when he died..."

He grimaced and left it at that.

"Look up," said Darrance and I did.

Above us the ceiling clanked and crunched loudly with the sound of moving gears, then it began to open. Then other gates to open after that, countless of them. Lights abruptly switched on, one at each corner, in quick succession, all the way up the gigantic shaft. Revealing just how dizzyingly high it went. How the hell Taryst had managed to build this in secret was anyone's guess.

Slowly we began to take off, the only sound which accompanied it was a slight hum, followed by a whir as the landing gear retracted into the ship's belly.

"Here we go," said Darrance as the main thrusters fired up and slowly, carefully we began to ascend. The shaft was far wider than the Guncutter, but I could see Darrance's brow furrowed in concentration

He noticed I was looking and snapped, "it's been a while, okay? And one of my arms is broken! I am not at my best!"

I shrugged, "well, you're doing better than I would."

Darrance looked at me as though I'd just said the basest of insults, then turned away, "you are annoying me, apprentice," he said. "Could you go somewhere else? I would suggest you take control of one of the heavy bolter turrets. Take the time to get to know the controls before we engage."

"You think that we're gonna engage the enemy?" I asked.

Darrance shrugged, "this ship has stealth capability," he said. "This Taryst was a smart bastard it must've cost him a fortune, but an escape craft like this would most certainly need one. I hope it'll work, but knowing our luck…"

He let it hang.

"Can I stay here?" I said, attempting not to sound too pleading.

"What? Are you scared of that Adelana girl?" he said. "I would be if I were you, but you're just going to have to get over it, now go away."

I frowned but even still, got off my chair and left with a sigh.

I sat at the Heavy Bolter turret, leaning forward in the chair. I hadn't bothered to even look at the controls or watch the wall of the shaft speed by me.

When I sat down, the depression hit me, overcome my mindset like a grain of sand engulfed by a tsunami. The ache of my wounds had returned too, along with the exhaustion and my stomach roiled with horrific sickness.

A world was going to die, and it was my fault, I was manipulated but that somehow just made it worse. It was my selfishness, cowardice and sense of self-preservation that made me take that pict if I'd been stronger if I'd just seen through 'Edracian's' lies.

That was the thing, though how was I supposed to know it'd lead to such severe consequences? Edracian was an Inquisitor, he was supposed to have the good of the Imperium, and it's people at heart. Not the destruction of an entire world, a hub world, a world of billions. When Omnartus dies it'll take much of the sub-sector with it; many more will die as those worlds will be engulfed in chaos.

Perhaps 'chaos' there had a double meaning.

I punched the wall with a backfist and ignored the pain arcing through my hand as a consequence. Why! Why didn't this Torathe see it? What could drive a man to do this? Order the destruction of an entire bloody world just because his daughter was killed. It was insane! He must be insane!

Completely insane!

"Attelus?" said a deep voice and I instantly recognised who it belonged too.

My teary-eyed attention snapped to Torris, as anger suddenly hit me.

"What do you want?" I snarled. "Are you here to accuse me of manipulating Jeurat again? I don't need this! Haven't I had enough for today? Haven't I?"

Torris said nothing and his beaten, bandaged face showed no anger, but this didn't negate my own.

"Just go away," I growled. "I've enough to take responsibility for things I've done, and I won't take responsibility for something that I haven't."

Torris sighed, "I have no idea what you must be feeling right now, and I have no idea what to say. I can't say that you're not somewhat responsible for this, because I'm sorry to say, you are. But kid, don't give up, you said it yourself, this is just the start of a long road, a road as long as the galaxy's length, Roldar had told me you'd said that. If you can't save Omnartus, you can save other worlds; you can stop this Etuarq from destroying any more. I've seen what you're capable of and I know if anyone can do it, it's you."

Then anger lit his large, bulging eyes, "now maybe you did manipulate Garrakson, maybe you didn't. But frig what that arse Arlathan Karkin said, my instinct tells me you at least tried to, and I've learned to trust my instinct. But either way, it doesn't matter, does it? We're onto something far bigger than that, far bigger than all of us. So, kid, I'll be behind you, I'll have your back."

"So, what does that mean, exactly?" I said.

Torris didn't answer at first as if weighing up his words before he finally said.

"You saved my arse back in the tower, I owe you that's what it means," he said coldly. "But get your head together, If we're going to escape you sitting around mopping isn't going to help us. Get on that emplacement and be ready, I'm on the other one. Good luck."

The large ex-arbitrator turned his back on me and walked off.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to blink away the tiredness. He was right, damn it, too many had died today because of my mistakes. I might be immortal, but the others on this ship weren't, as far as I knew, anyway.

The internal vox crackled, and there was a chime, announcing a call.

"Everyone stand ready," said Darrance. "We're about to exit the shaft, into open skyline in approximately thirty seconds. I am turning on the ship's stealth field. If anyone is at all religious, I suggest you begin praying. If you aren't, do something of actual worth, please. Thank you."

I jerked upright, quickly beginning to look at the controls and I couldn't help wonder, why the hell hadn't Taryst slaved servitors to them?

We emerged out the shaft and into the open sky. The view which greeted me was familiar, again the mountain range piercing through the thick brown-black clouds of pollution. I realised I loved that view and was going to miss it dearly. It showed that even on a world as dirty and horrible as Omnartus there could still be some beauty. Just as Adelana showed me that even in a horrible, idiotic race like humanity there could still be truly beautiful, kind people among us.

Was it selfishness that I wanted to save her because of that? I guessed it was, and what was going to happen to her after she sees her world die? If she didn't take her own life, would she become like me? Or like, Emperor forbid, Karmen Kons?

Would saving her, just kill her in another way? I hoped not, but I doubted it wouldn't. The destruction of my city and the subsequent lengths I had to go to survive in those ruins was enough to set me on this dark path.

I sighed and took the controls of the heavy bolter turret as I watched the sky fly by. Relaxed despite my dark thoughts and the depression threatening to overwhelm me completely, but this didn't last long as the vox beeped and crackled again.

"Whoever's been praying, please know it's a load of crap because we've got two enemy gunships, closing in from the west," said Darrance. "Be prepped for evasive manoeuvres, please."

I activated my vox link, "you think they've detected us?"

"No," said Darrance. "But be ready…"

The explosion suddenly rocked the ship, missing my turret pod by only a few metres and making me flinch in fright.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Darrance snapped as I felt the Guncutter veer left abruptly

"What?" I yelled. "How did they detect us?"

"I think they were waiting for us," said Darrance. "The stealth capabilities protect us from their scanners, but not from visual, now shut up and let me concentrate!"

"Of course they were," I sighed, cut the link and looked at my turret's scanner. The enemy ships weren't within range, but I still swung around to face the bastards as we banked through Lascannon fire in seemingly chaotic turns and twists.

I could see them, slightly, a pair of big, boxy unwieldy looking craft that seemed more like troop carriers than fighters. I clenched my teeth and fought the urge to open fire, knowing ammo would be limited and zoomed in with the turret's view display a harder action than usual as the craft constantly swayed and weaved. The Lascannon fire was almost a constant stream now, but the Guncutter was an extraordinarily sleek, agile, and it was apparent Darrance was a fantastic pilot. Even with one hand almost literally tied behind his back.

But yet the bastards were gaining; I could tell this even without the distance metre on the display.

We were slowed by dodging their fire but also they would've had larger engines, they were like a charging Grox, fast but less manoeuvrable. Our ship was more like a Gazzeller an animal native to my world, a light, nimble herbivore. Unlike them, we both had the teeth of carnivores.

We dived abruptly as the enemy ships closed in more, dived a good thirty degrees pushing me hard into my seat with a grunt.

With surprising agility the gunships followed us, their lascannons blaring and blaring. Darrance made the ship turn and twist through it.

My stomach dropped and kept on dropping as the ship kept diving and diving for what felt like forever. I clenched my teeth, trying to fight against the g-forces pushing me into my seat.

Then I heard a chime from my rangefinder and looked to see the enemy ships were finally within range. Their greater weight allowed them to catch up in decent; I still couldn't understand, why Darrance was doing this?

I saw bolter fire erupt from the turret underneath mine and it brought me into reality then I opened up with mine. The muffled Chug! Chug! chug! Sound and the slight kick which shuddered up my arms was more than a little satisfying.

The enemy gunships barely moved from my sights, besides the normal slight, constant shuddering and juddering. I couldn't tell whether any of my rounds hit and doubted they did. My display showed me the direction of the wind and its speed, but it was hard to look at that while getting crushed by the g-forces and shooting.

But of course now they were within range of our bolters, so was the same for theirs. Bolter rounds suddenly showered from their noses. Not even Darrance could dodge such a concentration of fire as it smashed and ricocheted off the Guncutter's hull.

I cursed and flinched as a few collided into the window of my turret, which made my brow furrow and with a roar fired with even more determination. Then the Guncutter suddenly slowed, slowed so much that the looming gunships came so close it was almost impossible for me to miss, I could see my bolter shots shower across their snouts ineffectually, I would've even seen the pilots through their windows if they weren't tinted black. Their fire rained on our hull with such consistency the clanging almost became one sound, but the lascannons set on the wings were too close to finishing us properly. Then they passed by us.

"Everyone brace!" Darrance yelled a mere half a second warning before the Guncutter abruptly turned, almost a ninety-degree angle that would've thrown me off my seat if I wasn't harnessed in. Then I heard the familiar sound of a Lascannon firing The sight of the brown-black clouds was gone, replaced by a terrifyingly close view of Omnartus' skyline, I could see in great detail the towers and tell if they were made of plastcrete or rockcrete and the airships continually streaming through the sky. I only managed to see this for a nanosecond, before blacking out.

The sound of triumphant whooping over the internal vox speakers caused me to come too.

"One is down!" Darrance yelled, sounding uncharacteristically ecstatic.

I couldn't feel anything besides horrific sickness and see nothing but a blur, then vomited hard onto the floor.

"Good, good now what?" I asked no one in particular while wiping away the sick still on my chin with a forearm.

My vision finally managed to clear, and again greeted by the fathomless view of the brown-black pollution clouds. There was no sign of any pursuing ships.

I activated my vox, "what the hell just happened?" I asked as another wave of nausea hit me, making me retch.

"I killed one and lost the other," Darrance informed as though it'd been the simplest task in the galaxy.

"How?" I managed.

"I'll explain later," he said. "You with your rather simple mind won't be able to comprehend it right now, let's just say that the manoeuvre I just pulled was one even the Adeptus Astartes would find hard. The internal dampers are state of the art in this thing; not many ships could pull that off without crushing its occupants into pulp. We'll be flying in the pollution for a good ten minutes or so; we need to gain as much space as possible before we ascend and leave orbit."

I nodded, even though he couldn't understand such an acknowledgement.

"Get someone else to man this turret," I said, sounding angrier than intended, but I didn't care and switched off my vox link.

I would've asked him never to do that again, but that'd probably just encourage the bastard.

With shaking hands I took off my restraint and slipped off my seat then stumbled toward the living area, I needed to see if Adelana was okay.

Adelana was as it'd turned out, she and the old woman were strapped into pullout seats, both looked a little dazed and vomit was on the carpet in front of them. I didn't dare approach or say anything to them for fear of facing Adelana's wrath again.

The servitor from the kitchen was cleaning their mess, and I hoped it'd do the same to the rest of the ship. I turned back and walked down the stairs, that was when the exhaustion hit me, like a punch between the eyes. I stumbled the rest of the way down and turned toward the living quarters. I turned into the first I found and threw myself roughly onto the bed. I needed to rest, I needed…

Instantly, I fell into a fitful sleep.

I found myself in a desert, no not quite a desert it was once a city, a great city with towers almost as tall as those on Omnartus. Now sand dominated it all, covering almost everything but it wasn't ordinary sand, it was coloured the ruby red crimson of blood. The intense sun beat down from a cloudless sky; it would've been blinding if it weren't for the tinted visor of my helm. The stark contrast was unsettling; the beautiful, almost normal sky seemed strange against the cruel nature of the blood-stained sand.

I wore a cameleoline cloak over my synskin body glove and black flak jacket; both wavered with the strong, hot wind. I could feel my bodyglove's internal fans working hard to keep me cool from the sweltering heat, and I held a silenced bolter of ornate but understated design, my powersword sheathed at my hip. It all felt so real, so very real even though I knew it was a dream.

A figure fluttered and appeared at my side, I turned to see it was a woman, but she wore a very similar armour set up to me so couldn't tell who she was. Then I glimpsed a few strands of red-gold hair hanging from underneath her helmet.

"Adelana!" I said with wide eyes.

Her helmeted head tilted slightly in bemusement, "yes it's me, you'd ordered us to split up and meet back here at this time, why are you surprised?"

I shook my head to try to find myself, "I uh, hello, how are you?"

"I'm alright," she said, uncertainly. "Or as alright as I can be in the circumstances, are you...alright?"

All I could manage was a nod, and she walked past me, and I couldn't help but have my gaze wander down to her wonderfully shapely arse, easily seen beneath her tight, grey bodyglove. We stood in a very tall, shattered building, a huge hole had been torn through the wall, it was almost perfect, unsettlingly rectangular, it surrounded the view like the frame of a painting by some sick, depraved artist.

Adelana stopped to stand near the ledge, her back still to me, her lasgun held loosely, confidently in her grasp.

"I hope you do know, she will forgive you, even after you tell her the truth, the whole truth," she said suddenly. "It'll take some time, but she will."

"Adelana," I said, taking a step toward her, but she was suddenly gone, replaced by the overly tall and esoterically armoured Farseer Faleaseen, who turned back to me.

"Do you mean that?" I said.

"Of course," she said, gazing over the scenery, her thin arms clasped behind her back. "I promised you that I would tell the truth and I meant it."

"What is this?" I asked, trying to hide the joy bubbling within me.

"The future," she said. "Or a potential future, I again will be honest with you, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos. I can see some of the future, but to me and all my kind, it is all in pieces. Like what you humans would call a jigsaw puzzle, we must be piece it together part by part. We find tiny snippets, but we cannot gather it into any consistency. This is one of many, but one of the most recurring I find for you when I search your thread."

"When are we?" I said. "Where are we?"

Faleaseen shrugged a strangely human motion. "I do not know, that is one of the many problems my fellow seers face, and I face. This could be five years in the future, or it could be two hundred for all I know. Sometimes I see this vision, and the Adelana human is not with you. Sometimes it is instead Arlathan Karkin, sometimes it is Marcel Torris, more rarely it is Karmen Kons, but it is most commonly, Adelana. Where is it? Perhaps you can guess that better than I. This is a Mon'keigh city; it could be any Mon'keigh city of the countless cities which infest this galaxy. They all look the same to me. What sets this one apart is I sense the warp here, it is truly infused into every grain of sand, every inch of rockcrete and steel. In the earth hidden beneath the sand. I do not know why you are here nor how."

"And to me too," I breathed, and the city abruptly shimmered and shattered into a bright white nothingness which in turn changed into what I recognised as the bridge of a gothic, Imperial ship. There were corpses everywhere laid over the consoles, the floor, the walls, the seats. They were all human, but some were ship crew, some were warriors, some ship menials and servitors. There were too many of the dead to count. I stood in almost knee deep blood.

"This is another recurring vision," said Faleaseen, who I'd almost forgotten was near, being so horrified by the scene. "Again, I do not know where this is, nor when but I have a feeling this one is close, very close to coming into fruition."

I nodded and regained a measure of my thoughts, "I don't understand," I said.

"Don't understand, what?" said Faleaseen as she started to circle the room, stepping over and around the corpses with her long limbs inhuman grace, not touching one even slightly.

"Why are you communicating with me now?" I said. "Why weren't you able to help me against the Space Marines? Like you had when we'd fought Edracian before."

Faleaseen sighed, "you ask a fair question, Attelus Kaltos. The reality is this, I must be cautious in my communications with you, in lending you my power as a conduit. Among the number of Space Marines attacking Omnartus are their Librarians. There are six of them in total. They are psykers, and due to the longer Space Marine lifespan and their enhanced cognitive structure, they make for quite powerful users of warpcraft. If I had helped you in any way they would have detected my presence, and in doing so potentially revealing your true nature and our connection. I could not risk it. I am sorry I could not help you more, help you save more of your friends and comrades. But you must understand I cannot be there to help you all the time."

She smiled, "but you have proven yourself far more capable than even I could imagine, without my aid."

I furrowed my brow and pursed my lips, I was no longer in the attire of the last vision, back in my usual black flak jacket.

"If that's true, why are you here," I said, "how are you talking to me now?"

"When you sleep, when you dream, your mind is more attuned to the sea of souls," Faleaseen explained, still circling the large bridge. "Most dreams that humans dream who are untouched by the warp mean little, besides your own subconsciousness speaking to you. But even blunt humans can be communicated with by psychic practitioners powerful enough to do so in dreams. Your Emperor does it regularly. You are correct about him, Attelus. He is very far from being a god, but he is still hard to overestimate. Thus here I am, having to use less strength than if you are awake. The Space Marine Librarians will not be able to sense me here, not unless I linger for a very long time."

I nodded, it was a good enough explanation as any, it was utterly fascinating in fact "what happens here?"

Again, Faleaseen shrugged, "you will see in a few seconds."

I started as I heard the sudden sound of heavy footsteps clanging toward my back and I turned to see at least thirty Stormtroopers advancing professionally down the wide corridor, Hellguns raised. They wore the black and dark red uniforms of the Inquisitorial guard.

A tall, slender figure in an advanced form-fitting, power armour followed them. She held a plasma pistol in her left hand, and her right was a power fist. Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra swaggered into the bridge, utterly unfazed by the slaughter before her. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room. For a split second, she seemed to look right at me, but not see me at all. She too was followed by a shadowy, smoky figure I could not make out, but whose very presence made me sick, made me recoil with horror. It was a familiar feeling, the same feeling I had back in the Twilight bar. It was a psychic blank, how it'd even slightly shown in Faleaseen's vision was beyond me.

Enandra's eyes narrowed, "search for survivors!" she snapped suddenly.

Jelcine looked like she was going to say more but stopped as one of the corpses shuddered slightly. I'd already drawn my sword before someone, or something abruptly burst out from underneath the bodies with a strangled scream. But before I could see more, the vision fazed into white, so suddenly it took me a second to realise it.

"That is when the vision always ends," said Faleaseen, as she seemingly materialised into view. "I do not know who or what is under those corpses."

"Do you have any more visions to show me?" I asked.

"I do not," she said with a shake of her head, again a very human movement. "While I have seen other visions of the future I…"

She seemed to trail off, there was extraordinary shame on her face and in her tone, "I cannot remember them, not to any useful degree, anyway. I have spent cycles upon cycles trying to get those two visions lodged in my memory. The other farseers of Dalorsia are trying too, but none have succeeded to even a slight degree."

"It's Etuarq," I said. "He must be doing this, somehow."

Faleaseen nodded, "I have come to the very same conclusion, Attelus Kaltos. How Inquisitor Etuarq has managed to gain the power and knowledge necessary to befuddle us, I do not know. It may have something to do with the power gained from the souls he has gathered or if he has aligned with the four great powers of the warp or a combination of the two. Either way, he holds power equivalent to that of the great Eldrad Ulthran or even more."

I sighed and shuddered as tears suddenly threatened to overwhelm me. I had to ask her, even though I already knew her answer, and dreaded it beyond belief,

"So, Faleaseen. Is there any way we can save Omnartus?"

She looked at me sadly, but there wasn't pity in her gaze. It was sympathy, genuine sympathy and I don't know why that filled me with fear and dread beyond measure.

"I am sorry, Attelus, but no," she sighed. "Etuarq has won this day, but you already knew that, did you not? But as others have said, you must not give in to your guilt and your despair. You are able to prevent him from doing it again. This is also not a burden for you to bear alone. I too am responsible; I did not share information with you and my other agents that may have allowed you to prevent this, such as your immortality, if you had known of that you might not have taken that pict. I failed to foresee this and let us not forget it was Etuarq who had manipulated these events and it is Inquisitor Torathe who is the one who ordered Omnartus' destruction directly."

"Will I have to live for all eternity?" I asked. "Dealing with that guilt?"

Much to my relief, Faleaseen shook her head, "no, you are perpetual, but you are only a perpetual for as long as I live. As I explained before when you die, and your soul is plunged into the warp, I can track you down and pull you back into real space, then rebuild you; we are connected, well and truly. But! I am giving another the power and knowledge to be able to meld with you, to take my place if I die before our work is done, just in case. If I die and it is at the right time, you can choose whether to break the connection and renounce your immortality or for another farseer to take over from me."

"I would rather like that," I said. "I mean, to be able to die one day.

She smiled, it was warm and genuine, "I doubt that. I have seen who and what you truly are, Attelus Kaltos. There will always be something new for you, something you want to live for, another new purpose. You will also never fully believe you have atoned for the events on Omnartus."

I sighed and was about to ask another one of the billions of questions I wanted to ask, but suddenly Faleaseen's cried out and clutched at her head, her expression a mask of pain.

"I am afraid this is where our meeting is going to end!" she said, hurriedly. "You are about to be in the presence of a blank, not even I…"

Then she was gone, and the normal, eternal pitch black view of sleep took over and...

Abruptly, I awoke, a hand had grasped my shoulder and was shaking me urgently. I sighed, and rolled over, expecting to see Arlathan or Torris or even much to my hope, Adelana. But instead, I found the barrel of a hellpistol right in my face. Instinct instantly took over, and in a split second, I had my arm around the Inquisitorial stormtrooper's neck and his pistol placed on the side of his skull.

The other two near the entrance of the quarters reacted with impressive speed, their Hellguns ready.

"Don't move!" I snarled, trying to ignore the horrific feeling from the psychic blank nearby.

"That was impressive," said a voice and Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra stepped into the room. She was the same as in Faleaseen's vision, the same form-fitting black power armour, she wielded the same plasma pistol and powerfist and moved with the same confident, sensual gait. She smiled at me with that now very familiar predatory smile.

"Now let me ask you, young man, what will you do now?" she said. "You have sergeant Kollath at your mercy, but what if I am not merciful? What if I…"

Her Plasma pistol came to life with a loud, piercing hum, pointedly

"What if I am prepared to shoot through him to kill you? What if I am prepared to sacrifice one good man like Kollath so you cannot kill me or any more of my men? Let him go, please and I won't have to. Also, it'll be such a waste of effort for me to go through so much trouble to save you, just to have to kill you, now, so please..."

I smiled, "you were prepared to sacrifice thousands of navy personnel and ten ships of Battlefleet Calixis to rescue us, so I know you could do it...But wait. Wait, but they're different weren't they? You didn't know them personally, did you? They were mostly nameless and faceless to you. But this sergeant he's different, you actually know him, you are friends…"

Enandra's full lips twitched slightly as I said 'friends.'

"No," I corrected. "Lovers. Well, I've gotta say, he's one lucky bastard."

I glanced about briefly, pointedly, "or not. Happy coincidence, isn't it? Or not, it does make sense that the one who has true feelings for you would be the one most willing to place himself in harm's way. Hence he was the one who woke me."

Jelcine raised her plasma pistol fully, "just let him go; you are wearing my patience thin," she said wearily.

I did as told, pushing the Stormtrooper away and tossed the hell pistol to the floor. Raising my hands in supplication.

The other two approached me, guns raised and with a healthy helping of caution. One grabbed me by the arms, pulling them behind my back and the other clasped my hands together with heavy wrist binders.

Enandra approached me, coming so close we were almost nose to nose. Her face was grim.

"You are fortunate that I like you, boy," she said. "But do not try anything like that ever again or you will have to suffer the fate of those who do not get a second chance, understand me?"

I nodded in acknowledgement, and I meant it.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I acted on instinct."

Her eyes narrowed, she glared at me for what must've been about half a minute.

"Alright," she said. "Just as long as you understand."

Enandra turned away, her blood red cape sweeping theatrically behind her with the movement.

"Take him!" she said. "Take him to the others."

When I walked into the corridor, I finally got a good look at the blank. He was a slight, short, pail and an unassuming looking man wearing a pitch black armoured bodyglove. He had a small moustache on his lip, and his short brown hair was utterly unkempt. His attention plastered to the floor, his arms folded across his chest and his left hand stroked his non-existent chin. At his hip was a large holstered bolt pistol and instantly, I knew this blank was not to be underestimated.

In silence, they herded me out of the Guncutter, down the boarding ramp and into a vast hangar bay. It was the typical gothic design and dark grey grimness of an Imperial warship. There were seven other ships in there. One, another Guncutter, one was a stately transport ship, the five others were sleek void to air fighters. Menials and servitors moved around us in obvious preparation for battle.

"Hmm," I murmured. "Expecting a fight, huh?"

Enandra, who walked in front of me didn't deign to respond, and I expected one of the Stormtroopers to shove me pointedly, but none did.

I saw the others through the wall of rushing bodies. A line of Stormtroopers stood guard around them, and they all had their wrists bound and were on their knees. Even Karmen, her face still covered in bandages, but she was now conscious, a psychic nullifier collar around her neck.

Next to her were the poor petrified Adelana and the old woman. They both looked close to tears, and I couldn't blame them. This must've been a terrifying experience for any Imperial citizen.

I was forced to stand beside Verenth and Vark before being pushed onto my knees. Neither of them bothered me even a glance, they both looked sullen, although I couldn't quite figure out why. There were just too many reasons for them both to be pissed off at this moment.

"Well!" said Enandra as she stood before us "Most of us have met already, but for those, I didn't see on the vox viewer. I am Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus."

In an almost perfect echo of earlier, again she raised her Rosette with casual abandon.

Someone let out a horrified wail, someone I guessed to be Halsin.

"I am sorry about this," she said with a sigh. "Believe me I didn't want to have you here, in restraints before me. You have all been through enough already; this is merely a precaution, I assure you."

I frowned, unsure what to make of that and I wasn't at all surprised to see she was a brilliant speaker, she wore power armour but didn't need to use vox enhancement. She didn't shout but projected her voice, comfortably above the noise of the hustle and bustle of the hanger.

"All of you will be held in separate quarters," she said on and started to pace again. "I will be honest with you. All of you will be guarded, and I will be questioning all of you, one at a time. Your meals will be provided to you there."

She paused, "I will be kind to you, if you are not being questioned, if you wish to, you can move through the ship. Under escort, of course, and you will be limited in your exploration. If you move onto a part of my ship forbidden to you, your Stormtroopers escorting will let you know. If you…If you."

Enandra paused again and made eye contact with each of us, in turn, her brow contorted in genuine sympathy and sadness. If her eyes weren't augmetics, I suspected they'd be welling with tears.

She licked her red lips, and said, her voice cracking, "if you wish to see Omnartus...Die. You are welcome to watch on the many live pict feed viewers we have available. I suspect not many of you will be willing to, and I would not blame you, but if you feel you must…"

She let it hang, and she paused for a very long time, "do any of you have any questions?"

"Yeah, I do," said Verenth. "Why can't we stop it?"

Enandra sighed, "we do not have the capabilities to even stand a tiny chance. You must have seen the might and capabilities of the Astartes, haven't you? My scribe calculates there is almost half a chapters worth of them in the system, now. It is a fool's errand, it is suicide, I am sorry, so very sorry, but there is nothing we can do. My former master is a very long-serving member of the Ordo Malleus, his influence is far beyond my own, even with his steadily decreasing sanity."

"What about that?" I cried, my emotions getting the better of me. "Why is someone so off his head allowed to still be an Inquisitor? Why the hell is that?"

Enandra looked at me; her soft jaw set slightly, "one of the strengths of the Inquisition is. Thus, every Inquisitor is the head of an organisation unto him or herself. We are, all of us, independent. That is also our weakness; my master has been out of communication with the rest of the ordo for three years. Acting on his own, that was not unusual for him, or for many of my kind, but I suspect that during much of that time some corruption had beset him. This incident proves this, he was always very faithful in the Emperor, but he used to understand not everything is black and white most things in this galaxy aren't. After this, he will be declared excommunicate traitorous and killed or captured for trial. Omnartus is a hub world and even if its corruption were proven without a shadow of a doubt, would be cleansed with an invasion, then resettled. The locals who are found innocent and free of taint rejoining the fold of Imperial society. Those that do not…"

She let that hang.

"Any other questions?" she asked breaking eye contact with me and glancing over my fellow survivors. Survivors, how easy was it to start using that word for us.

"Yes," stammered and squeaked a meek little voice."I have...a question."

I didn't need to look to know it was Halsin.

"Yes," said Enandra with a patient nod. "Go ahead."

"What is to happen to the wounded?" asked Halsin, gaining some measure of strength in his voice.

Enandra smiled again it was actually quite sweet, "oh, of course, my apologies. I forgot yes, they will be taken to the medicae station on the sixth level."

"I...I wish to go too," said Halsin. "I had promised to look after them; I swore that I would. I wish to help your medicaes."

Enandra nodded, there was great respect in that nod, "of course, that area is open for you. But you must be escorted; I am afraid."

Halsin nodded back and grinned broadly.

She looked over us again, "any other questions?"

There was none.

"Alright," she said then looked straight at me, and my heart sank as I realised what that meant. "I wish to talk to Attelus Kaltos first, the rest of you will be taken to your assigned quarters, thank you."

The Stormtroopers pulled us to our feet and began to file everyone but me toward the left side exit. I watched Adelana as she was forced away and she looked back at me, her brow furrowed her full lips pursed. Her sea blue eyes were red from tears, and I expected anger in them but much to my shock, it was absent. It was actually, concern. I couldn't have been any more surprised to see this.

I watched her leave and was so involved in this I almost didn't notice Enandra approach.

Enandra smiled at me knowingly and internally; I cursed at my idiotic obviousness.

"Let's go, shall we?" she said. "We have much to discuss, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos."

"Oh, I'm sure we do," I sighed as we started onward.

We walked into the wide corridors, Inquisitor Enandra and I surrounded by ten Stormtroopers and accompanied by the damned blank. My wrists still bound, about ten minutes of moving through the continual hustle and bustle of the ship. Enandra, the blank and two Stormtroopers, including that sergeant from earlier began to turn off a separate corridor, she stopped and turned back to me.

"I will meet you in the interview room in a few minutes; I have a few errands to run," she said. "Take him to interrogation room one!"

"Yes, mamzel!" chorused the remaining Stormtroopers as they ushered me on and Enandra and her escort disappeared.

I sighed, I was to be 'interviewed' in an 'interrogation room,' now that was frigging reassuring.

For a good ten minutes we moved through the confusing maze of corridors, but I was utterly sure I could find my way back. Just in case. The Stormtroopers didn't deign to speak to me, and I found myself craving a smoke of Lho, but I'd run out a long time ago.

We eventually found the door labelled in bright white letters, 'INTERROGATION ROOM 1' and they led me inside.

The place was bigger than I thought perhaps five metres by four, a large metal table was set right in it's middle and there was a one-sided reflective mirror fixed on the wall facing me.

One of the Stormtroopers made me sit on the seat looking at the mirror then another took off my wrist manacles and chained them to the table before clamping them back on again. The six others covered me with their Hellguns the entire time.

Once done the six of them filed out of the room as the other two took positions on each side of the door behind me.

Frig, was I tired, I had no idea how long I'd slept for, but it wasn't nearly enough.

"Frig!" I groaned and rubbed my eyes with my thumbs, "either of you got any smokes you can spare?"

I watched them on the reflection of the one-way glass, neither of them moved even the slightest inch.

I sighed, it was worth a try, I supposed.

So I waited, twiddling my thumbs and fighting the urge to look at my wrist chron every few seconds.

I pursed my lips and kept glancing at the one-way glass, knowing that Enandra and Emperor only knew who else was watching me on the other side. The feeling of the Blank's presence was gone, but I could sense something else. Something that I'd started to become more attuned to since Faleaseen had fixed me, someone was using psychic powers, and they were close, too. Karmen seemed immune to this, but this person wasn't as well trained. I closed my eyes, exhaled out my nose and then I knew, this psyker was trying to delve into my mind.

I wanted to smile at the glass but fought the urge.

Abruptly, the door slid open and now wore a black bodyglove; Inquisitor Enandra stormed in carrying a data slate. I couldn't help it, as my eyes wandered over every inch her very brilliant body.

"Enjoying what you see, I hope, Attelus Kaltos," she said, without taking her attention from her dataslate.

I flinched, and my attention shot to the floor.

She turned her gaze on me, her brow furrowed intently, "you are a very handsome young man, do you know that, Attelus?"

I didn't answer as I felt my face flushed even more.

"Yes," she said, "beautiful some might say. Has anyone ever told you-you were beautiful?"

My first instinct was to say, 'no' but then a memory hit me.

"Yes, it was a man, he didn't tell it to me, though," I said. "About three years ago, I was on a job on Scintilla and was walking one of the main boulevards. When he and a bunch of his friends walked the other way they were all staring at me, gaping at me like idiots and I heard one say after the past, 'he's beautiful.' Whispered it, thought I couldn't hear him over the blaring music from the clubs around, but I could."

Enandra pulled out the chair across from me and sat smiling, placing her jaw into the palm of her hand, her elbow on the table. It reminded me unnervingly of Glaitis.

"Do you know why I told you that, Attelus Kaltos?" she said sensually.

"I don't," I said, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Because it is the truth," she said. "You aren't my type, I'm afraid. Too pretty, too feminine featured. But I told you the truth because I am an inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus and that is what I trade in, that is what I live for, to find the truth. To know the truth."

The door suddenly slid open making me flinch in fright, and another woman walked in. She was plain-faced, scalp shaved of any hair, tubes stuck from the back of her head like dreadlocks, and she wore a dark blue uniform tunic. I didn't need much intelligence to know she was a Sanctioned psyker, most likely the one who had been trying to delve into my mind.

The psyker stepped to stand beside Enandra; she arms folded her arms and glared down at me balefully.

"This is Selva, and as you have likely guessed, she is a psyker, sanctioned by the Imperium of man to use her gift for the good of mankind," said Enandra as she gazed lazily at her data slate. "She has been trying to delve into your mind, but she finds herself unable, she says that you have perhaps the most powerful mind block she has ever seen. She cannot even read your surface thoughts."

The psyker's hands moved, flickering and fluttering angrily, her eyes never leaving me.

"Oh, and she is also mute," said Enandra. "It's the first time this has happened to her, and as you can tell, she isn't happy about it."

My eyes narrowed, I really didn't like where this was going, despite being happy in other ways.

"Tell me, Attelus," she said and licked her lips, "how did you get such a powerful mind lock placed upon your mind?"

"I uh," I managed.

"And I implore you, Attelus, please do not lie to me," she said, staring at me intently. "Because I will talk to the others and I will find the truth from them, so please do not lie."

I swallowed, my heart thundered in my chest. Should've known this would happen, should've seen this coming.

"Was it the woman, Karmen Kons?" said Enandra, she pursed her lips and glanced at her data slate. "Or is she now Estella Erith, again? I cannot be sure."

My jaw dropped, "how?"

"The truth, Attelus, always comes out," said Enandra. "Always."

I furrowed my brow, "how much did Wesley tell you, exactly?"

"Enough," Enandra stated.

"I thought you dealt in the truth," I said.

"It is the truth," said Enandra. "He told me enough, and we both know, don't we Attelus? The best way to lie is, to tell the truth."

I sighed and curled my hands into fists, clenching my teeth. Trying to think of an appropriate response but stopped as the lights suddenly flickered on and off, a few dozen times in the span of a second or so. Then I saw in the reflection of the one-way mirror, Farseer Faleaseen. She stood facing me despite between Enandra and Selva, who both seemed frozen in place.

I gasped, "what are you, you might…"

Faleaseen pursed her lips and placed her very long index finger on them, silencing me. Then with slow, deliberate movements, she put her hands upon Enandra's and Selva's heads. For a few seconds held them there, I could sense her strong psychic might, it was the power which was capable of crushing a tank in an instant. But it was also subtle, very subtle, tuned to a perfection beyond what even Karmen could comprehend, as it coursed through her arms and into their minds.

She took her hands away and looked at me.

"What did you do?" I said.

The Farseer didn't answer. Instead, she walked around the table toward me and with almost forced slowness reached out then touched me briefly on the forehead.

"What did you do?" I asked again.

"They will not know of your mind block, now," she said. "I have changed it, from henceforth other psychic beings if they look into your thoughts will read something of your mind, a fake thought sequence of sorts one that you can control, contort and create with your will and imagination. I should have done this earlier. This time I have done it for you as there is little time for you to learn this and do it now. My apologies, they will also have conveniently forgotten of this. Now I must take my leave, we are very far from the Space Marine Librarians now, but this is still a great risk for us. See you soon."

Then she was gone, the lights then flickered as they had before then Enandra and Selva were moving again, just in time to hear me say.

"See you."

Enandra's brow furrowed, and she looked at me sidelong in bemusement.

"Are you talking to me?" she asked.

I frowned allowing my sadness to take over me and my gaze fell to the floor, "no, I am saying goodbye to all the good people who have died over the last day and months before."

I glanced at Selva and saw her face was no longer a mask of anger but of forced neutrality like I imagined the expression stormtroopers had behind their helmets.

"Selva has looked into your mind," Enandra said, and for a split second, I saw her face grimace slightly in mid-sentence, as though some part of her subconscious rebelled against the fake memory. "What she saw was very interesting."

I nodded, trying not to seem interested, as I wondered what exactly Faleaseen had forced the psyker to see.

Enandra grimaced again, "she showed me everything, I am sorry, so, so sorry you have this on your conscience, it would've driven a lesser man insane or end his life. Now I know what you have gone through, I apologise, if before I seemed unsympathetic, but I am an Inquisitor, it is a mode I must be in from time to time. I have been doing it for such a long time, that it is almost instinctive, now."

She picked up her data slate, "and you were Mechanicum enhanced?" she said.

I fought back a smile and nodded again.

Enandra nodded too and met my gaze, " but you are still very human, perhaps too, human. Wesley told me you had taken that pict. But I was a little sceptical; your memories confirm this beyond a shadow of a doubt. I...I think this interview is unnecessary, now. In fact, I feel that it can wait, it can wait for all of you. I'm sorry, if I seemed, unsympathetic, before."

I frowned and furrowed my brow in sadness and bemusement, "you don't think I'm cowardly?" I managed. "You don't think I'm stupid for doing that?"

"No, I do not," she said without a hint of hesitation. "While I will concede that your powerful sense of self-preservation was a factor. Edracian, as far as you knew, was an Inquisitor. And I know just how much power the Rosette can possess. Like most Imperial citizens you are bound to his will. You had no clue it would lead to this and how could you? How could you? I know more than anyone else that this galaxy is made almost entirely of varying shades of grey, that as that ancient saying teaches, 'the road to hell is paved with the best intentions,' while your intentions were not the best, it still fits, I think."

Enandra shook her head, "and now I know, it was all the more important to save you now. Now I am certain that Edracian was just a puppet. Wesley had suggested it in his messages. Etuarq is still out there and must be stopped. That young Vex may hold the information necessary to this, and you might too. I swear, I will help you all I can."

I narrowed my eyes and looked at her sidelong, "so you are aware…"

"She did see that you were there due to Etuarq's machinations, that your very conceivement was because of his order," she pursed her lips. "And I honestly believe him, to have pulled such a stunt, to have pulled such a masterful plan. He must've had foresight, and he must still have a plan for you."

"But you're not going to kill me?" I said. "Even though it may screw over his plan?"

"No!" she said sitting back, her palms held out and her eyes wide as if such a thought horrified her. "I don't believe in fate; I believe that you can overcome whatever Etuarq's future plans are. You can make your own destiny. You will make your own destiny, and I believe it'll be stopping that traitor. Also, I believe in the punishment coming after the transgression."

She shrugged, "besides, now I have seen what you are truly capable of, I would rather have you a friend rather than an enemy. I would rather you were...close to me than someone else."

Again, I furrowed my brow, and the mute psyker's hands were a sudden flurry of fevered movement, her face alight with anger.

"What do you mean, exactly?" I said, straightening although I already guessed the answer and it filled me equal measures of dread and joy.

"Calm down, Selva," snapped Enandra with a raised hand and the psyker stopped. "I am sure you have already guessed, Attelus. That I wish to employ you, I feel with your skill set you will be a valuable addition to my organisation. That while I believe it is your destiny to stop the former Inquisitor Etuarq in whatever dark goal he has, you will need all the help in this galaxy you can get. I can provide you with this help. What say you?"

I sighed for what must've been the millionth time now, "do I have any real choice in the matter?'

"No," she said with a shake of her head and smiled that nice smile. "I will be honest with you; I will be offering all of your fellow survivors a position too. To be able to go through what all of them went through proves that they have, at the very least, a strength of will beyond the norm."

"Even that old woman?" I asked, my eyebrows raised in bemusement.

"Yes, even Seleen Gorret," she said with a smile. "And now you're under my employee you've better start working on that damn memory of yours. At least an average to a good memory is usually a requirement for even the lowest acolyte."

Her smile disappeared, and she leaned forward on the table, "believe me, Attelus. I am a far better employer than both Glaitis and Taryst combined, but even then, it's not really saying much."

I nodded, I believed her. She seemed legitimate, hard but fair. She seemed to be one of most real people involved in the disaster. I only wished she'd got involved sooner.

She looked at me hard for a few seconds, seemingly searching for a sign of something, before eventually nodding and reclining back.

"Good!" she said. "Now we have that understood; you may go to your quarters. We will discuss more on this later! You are dismissed, now."

I frowned and looked pointedly at my manacles.

Again, Enandra grinned, "who's the one with the bad memory, eh?" she said with a chuckle.

She waved the two Stormtroopers forward, who obediently walked up and unclasped me from the table.

"And take off his manacles, please, Donphin and Setril," she said.

Both their attentions shot to her, and she shrugged, "I know enough to trust him, now. Take them off, please."

Hesitantly, they did as told and rubbing my wrists; I slid to my feet.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you for understanding."

Enandra shrugged again, "I think you and I have much in common, Attelus. We both see the cosmos in grey, and we both can see the bigger picture."

I stood, still rubbing my wrists, waiting for her to say more but she just reclined in her seat and looked down at her data slate, her long legs crossed.

Getting the hint, I nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh! And Attelus!" she called, causing me to stop in my tracks and turned back to her. "Wesley explained to me that he informed you I was part of the Seculous Attenlous philosophy, a rather controversial philosophy in this day and age, wouldn't you say?"

I nodded.

"So I would ask you to refrain from telling any of your friends who don't already know, that would be most appreciated. Thank you."

"Of course," I said, then left.