thimblus

[thimblus]

Oh, no, that's entirely a fair concern, and I'd ideally like to avoid being disrespectful about any of it, which was part of why I decided to seek outside input in the first place; as mentioned before, I had only just started planning, and was going to seek outside input and draw on the original writing wherever possible, e.g. characterization of Odysseus. The inclusion of prophecy regarding Astyanax was the only thing I was going to take from EPIC, and even then, I had already considered having it come from someone else who would be more likely to give prophecy. At the same time, however, it seems like certain leaps would be unavoidable, because otherwise this isn't a story that could happen in the first place. And in all fairness - if people who are actually a part of the culture feel that those changes would be insensitive or disrespectful, then it isn't my place to contradict that either. It isn't my culture, like you said, and that's part of why I sought others' input in the first place; if the answer ends up being that I shouldn't write it at all, then I won't, and I apologize.

EDIT: Upon further thought, I also realized this probably reads as… melodramatic, or a bit ‘woe is me.’ I’m not saying all this as a kneejerk reaction to being told that something I was considering doing/writing was insensitive and Westernizing, but out of realizing that… yeah, I don’t know enough about the overarching myth and Homeric society to do it well and respectfully.

However, if you have any recommendations for better translations to read, I’d love to hear them!

Hello! I'm planning to write a story that asks what might have happened had Odysseus brought Astyanax back to Ithaca to raise as his own rather than the boy being killed in Troy, and I thought it would be nice to name it in a manner that goes in line with the Odyssey and the Telegony; do you have any suggestions how that might work from a linguistic/etymological standpoint?

I suppose you would go for a title after the main character’s name like it happens with Odyssey and Telegony, right?

I guess we should follow at the steps of these two but we have to first see how they are formed in Greek.

Οδυσσεύς (Odysseus) -> Οδύσσεια (Odysseia)

Τηλέγονος (Telegonos) -> Τηλεγόνεια / Τηλεγονία (Telegon(e)ia)

In this sense, I suppose a story about Astyanax would be:

Αστυάναξ (Astyanax) -> Αστυανακτία (Astyanaktia).

I think an ε - e should not be added in this case because Odysseia and Telegoneia have some grammatical reasons for taking it that would not exist in Astyanax’s case.

I feel strongly though that you should not shape it into something like “astyanaxia”. That “x” should be dropped to “kt”.

So Astyanaktía I guess and then in English this would turn into Astyanacty, I assume.

I will say that I am not 100% sure. I wonder if you could instead say Αστυανακτίς / Αστυανακτίδα. (Astyanaktís / Astyanaktíða) which in English could be shaped into Astyanactis or Astyanactid in the fashion of Ilias / Iliad (and Aeneis / Aeneid, though that’s Latin but I think there’s Greek grammatical influence in coming up with this title).

The more I think about it, it’s Astyanactis that sounds more proper to me.

Astyanactis (the stress in the ending -is)

But I am definitely not sure about this, if any Greek (speaker) wants to weigh in, feel free to.

[thimblus]

Ohh, I see! I like the sound of Skamandreia, but if I'm trying to keep symmetry with the Iliad, it sounds like Skamandriad might be more proper? I'm not sure how they're titled in modern Greek, admittedly. For the story itself, I'm still in the early stages of planning it out, but having Astyanax take vengeance when he does reach adulthood was exactly the plan; while I know that mercy wasn't necessarily Odysseus' strong suit in the Iliad or the Odyssey (slaughtering the maids along with the suitors, for instance), I felt in this case it could work as a case of being unable to fight fate. By choosing to bring Astyanax home and raise him in an attempt to avoid vengeance without brutally killing an infant, Odysseus will cause Ithaca's destruction once the boy comes of age. To this purpose, I'm planning to incorporate an element from Epic, a musical adaptation by Jorge Rivera-Herrans. Specifically, a prophecy from Zeus that if Astyanax is not killed during the sacking of Troy, then he will grow to avenge Troy upon Odysseus and Ithaca as a whole. This way, the story overall can become a tragedy of sorts. I'm as of yet uncertain how to handle the events of the Odyssey in this timeline, though, as it'd be unlikely in the extreme for a young child to survive the voyage, and I don't think his presence onboard would stop Odysseus from revealing his name to Polyphemus and incurring Poseidon's wrath.

Hello! I'm planning to write a story that asks what might have happened had Odysseus brought Astyanax back to Ithaca to raise as his own rather than the boy being killed in Troy, and I thought it would be nice to name it in a manner that goes in line with the Odyssey and the Telegony; do you have any suggestions how that might work from a linguistic/etymological standpoint?

I suppose you would go for a title after the main character’s name like it happens with Odyssey and Telegony, right?

I guess we should follow at the steps of these two but we have to first see how they are formed in Greek.

Οδυσσεύς (Odysseus) -> Οδύσσεια (Odysseia)

Τηλέγονος (Telegonos) -> Τηλεγόνεια / Τηλεγονία (Telegon(e)ia)

In this sense, I suppose a story about Astyanax would be:

Αστυάναξ (Astyanax) -> Αστυανακτία (Astyanaktia).

I think an ε - e should not be added in this case because Odysseia and Telegoneia have some grammatical reasons for taking it that would not exist in Astyanax’s case.

I feel strongly though that you should not shape it into something like “astyanaxia”. That “x” should be dropped to “kt”.

So Astyanaktía I guess and then in English this would turn into Astyanacty, I assume.

I will say that I am not 100% sure. I wonder if you could instead say Αστυανακτίς / Αστυανακτίδα. (Astyanaktís / Astyanaktíða) which in English could be shaped into Astyanactis or Astyanactid in the fashion of Ilias / Iliad (and Aeneis / Aeneid, though that’s Latin but I think there’s Greek grammatical influence in coming up with this title).

The more I think about it, it’s Astyanactis that sounds more proper to me.

Astyanactis (the stress in the ending -is)

But I am definitely not sure about this, if any Greek (speaker) wants to weigh in, feel free to.

[thimblus]

The following is a transmission received from the wreckage of the ESS Resolute, following its destruction during the battle of Kaitan 4. Timestamps have been added and portions of silence removed for clarity. [00:00] “This is squad commander Erlini of the third-” [00:02] The sound of something heavy striking metal is heard in the background, alongside a voice consistent with a human moaning in pain. [00:08] “...Of the third defense battalion. I-I can’t [inaudible] or else they’ll hear me, but- well, protocol is to... try and leave a message for the rescue team, right? Well... first of all, nobody but me is left alive on this ship, so we’re not taking any prisoners today.” [00:10] The speaker gives a shaky sigh, before taking a deep breath. [00:12] “...Humans. I uh... worked with a few of them, before all this. Not as much fun to have a bout with as another ortel, but... not bad.” [00:13] The sound of metal being struck is heard again, louder this time. The speaker is quiet for about 20 seconds save for the sound of movement and a few grunts of exertion. [00:34] “There were about 5 on that crew. That number dropped to 4, eventually; one of them... well, I don’t know the details, but there was an accident in the loading bay.” [00:37] “The other 4... well, they got real weird about it when the captain tried to have the body put into cold storage, like usual when a spacer dies away from port. Need to bring them back home, after all.” [00:38] “Kept telling us it needed to be jettisoned or incinerated.” [00:40] “Well, the captain gave in eventually, told them they would have to explain it to the poor lady’s family why they didn’t have a body. They didn’t seem bothered by it, though, just... loaded her up into the airlock and launched her out to burn up when it hit atmos.” About one minute of silence follows before the speaker laughs. [01:36] “I’m off-topic, I know, but... well, I don’t think I’m getting out of here. There must be at least... twenty thousand, maybe thirty thousand people who were crewing this ship before it went down. Most of it’s intact; which means most of them will be intact, too.” [01:40] “It’s funny, really. How well they keep this a secret. They never go anywhere without at least a few other humans, in case of an accident; stars, they don’t like traveling on nonhuman ships in the first place. They rarely land actual troops, and most of their ships are rigged to blow and incinerate anyone still onboard if it seems like they’re doomed. Don’t even let other species’ doctors take blood samples if they can help it.” [01:41] “I always thought it was because they just didn’t expect other species to handle the remains respectfully, or because they were weird about guarding their tech.” [01:42] “...Right. Off-topic again-” [01:43] The speaker is interrupted by another moan; three others join it almost immediately, coming from different directions. She goes quiet for a moment, before cursing loudly; the sounds of plasma fire are heard, shortly followed by what are presumably the speaker’s footsteps, pursued by groaning voices. [02:12] “Damnit- damnit, damnit...” [02:15] Metal screeching against metal, followed by a heavy bang. [02:17] “I shouldn’t be recording this on the move, I know, but... hell, I can’t stay put, either. They can smell me. I don’t know why; the whole damn place smells like smoke and blood, I don’t know how they’re picking me out.” [02:18] “Doesn’t matter right now, though. The point I’m actually trying to get to here- they get back up. If the body isn’t destroyed somehow, I mean; the humans. I’ve seen... well, a good few in this damn ship who’ve been nearly cut in half, and they still try to drag themselves after me on their arms.” [02:20] “Tens of thousands of humans, walking after death, left to roam through the jungle attacking anything that moves, until they stumble over the city...” [02:21] “Well, the battalion stationed there could stop them, sure, but I don’t know how they’re doing this in the first place. If it’s... I don’t know, some kind of bioweapon? What if it spreads over species? What if it’s already in me?” [02:26] “Human ships are rigged to go if they’re critically damaged. This one didn’t for some reason, but the lights are still on, which means the reactor is still running.” [02:30] “A hundred square kilometers of scorched jungle, or a potentially apocalyptic plague to scour this planet completely... it’s not much of a choice, is it?” [02:32] “I just wish it didn’t have to be me.” [02:33] “Shit. I’m second-guessing myself now. I don’t have time for this.” [02:36] “I’ll make a detour through their communications array, see if I can’t get this sent to command first. Make sure nobody else gets a nasty surprise like this.” [02:40] “Please be safe.” The message ends there. The wreckage of the ESS Resolute itself was destroyed completely approximately half an hour after the transmission was received; long-range readings indicate its reactor was detonated from inside. Recommend this recording be passed along to High Command for a potential breach of galactic law regarding biological weaponry. It could be useful for leverage. - L.X.

The zombie apocalypse has come and gone. Humanity has survived and prospered, but with the virus inside every single human. Centuries into the future, we are at war with an alien race, and they are horrified to learn that we don’t stay dead easily.

[thimblus]

couldn’t sleep so I got up to make dinner rolls at 3 AM, they came out really well but now I ate like six dinner rolls and that is way too many for one sitting and my stomach hates me for it

[thimblus]

Living Relics

Dearest Annelia,

I apologize for my severe tardiness in writing to you. It’s simply that I’ve had to spend far too long in thought on exactly how I am to phrase all that I wish to say. Every night that I am not in the grace of your radiant beauty is one that I can scarcely bear, and yet much like our own cursed lifetimes, I must continue nonetheless.

As I’ve longed to tell you for so long, I desire nothing more than to spend my eternity with you. Joy has long abandoned me, as had love, or so I had thought until we met.

The fondness I now feel is one I realized with no small measure of surprise as I was taking my evening meal. As soon as I realized, however, the thought could not leave my mind, and I nearly overstayed my time there in the window - the morning light was beginning to shine and burn against my hand when I finally realized just how long it had been.

I intend to visit you not long after sending this letter, but it may be some time before I arrive. The post often travels much faster than we can travel, as you well know. It isn’t long before I will be with you once again, my dear.

Eternally yours,

Steiner.

-

Steiner groaned in annoyance as he rose from his rest. The curtains were drawn tight over the windows, leaving the room in deep shadow - though he would have preferred to not have a window at all. Still, a choice of lair wasn’t always easy, and this one at least kept him from being harassed in the day.

Sometimes, he wished someone would have just staked him already. The night was cold, and lonely as ever. The hunt, his beasts called. The hunt will bring you warmth, oh so warm.

They were right, of course. Steiner knew that. Nothing warmed him like a fresh kill would, but it wouldn’t save him from being alone. If anything, it would make that part worse. Every time he forced himself to drink, Steiner considered leaving himself out in the sun. Maybe then he would finally have his peace.

But the beast wouldn’t allow that. Just like it wouldn’t allow him to starve himself.

The night sky was clouded over, not a hint of the moon and stars, and on Steiner’s street, where the street lights were flickering at best and missing entirely at worst, the consequence for most would be total, blinding darkness. But not for the hunters like himself.

Still, he couldn’t hunt so near to his lair. Lazy habits would inevitably mean daytime intruders, whether it be law enforcement or vigilantes suspecting what he was. Either could be deadly, if they got lucky.

So the first hour of his night was spent simply walking. Perhaps the museum; the night security was typically bored and inattentive, and if he got there in time for the shift change they wouldn’t know exactly when the poor guard had disappeared.

The building was dark as he approached. A flashlight or two was the only sign of guards at all. Steiner could see them perfectly, of course, two bored-looking men chatting quietly as they made their rounds. A pair was a bad option. He needed someone alone.

As they passed by the front door, Steiner moved past in a rush of air, snatching the keys from one’s belt with a feather-light touch. The halls were dark as well, the occasional blinking light of a security camera breaking the gloom along the walls. Being caught on footage didn’t worry him. Nobody would recognize his face, if they could even make it out.

The thought brought no comfort to him.

Turning to face down a hallway, he paused a brief moment to spare a glance at a newer exhibit. Admittedly, Steiner had lived through many of the events depicted in places like this, but it was amusing sometimes to see what the mortals thought had happened.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was his own letter staring him in the face - the one he had agonized over for a week, stared at completed on his desk for three nights, then finally thrown out in a blood-starved fit of anger and loneliness.

Dearest Annelia-

God, how long had it been? How many centuries ago had Steiner met her, and then lost contact with her?

Emotion overcame him in a sudden rush, anger, then grief, then lonely, then anger all over again. He placed a hand against the glass guarding the display. Love Through the Ages, the sign proclaimed. What right did they have? Those were his words! They had no right!

Steiner didn’t register the glass starting to crack as his hand pushed against it. How dare they take his most private thoughts, those he had written down and never shown even to the one he had meant them for, and just put them out for the whole world to see!?

All at once, Steiner found that the world around him was lit in a distinct tinge of red. The glass shattered in front of him, cut into his arm as he grabbed the old letter off of its stand. An alarm shrieked, distant in his ears despite its proximity.

As the guards rounded the corner to stop him, Steiner was quick to bathe the night in blood.

It was still dripping from his hands and fangs when he returned home. It stained his clothes and the ancient, yellowed paper held so tightly, yet so gingerly against his chest. The screams of the men and women who had come to investigate the alarm echoed in his ears, mixing in the shame of losing control.

A vampire as old as Steiner was supposed to have lost their conscience a long time ago. Perhaps that was why he despised his kind so much. They drank freely, and then they forgot.

Why couldn’t he just forget, like they did? Why did every face, every voice, have to haunt him still, just like hers did?

The door shut with a heavy thud behind him. The beast was quiet now - bloated and happy on the feast of blood Steiner had given it. He almost wished its constant cajoling and hunger would pipe up again, if only to distract him from the tide of memories that only grew stronger with each soft crinkle of the letter.

God, Steiner just wanted to sleep. The letter was left on the table beside his door as he crawled into his tent - an unorthodox sleeping place, admittedly, but coffins were just so difficult to transport, and as it turned out, it was much easier to find a thick tent that wouldn’t let the sun in.

Sleep wouldn’t come. At first, it was simply because of how his mind wouldn’t calm - more and more faces flashing by, more voices joining the chorus in his ears, condemning him for his failures and his sins.

Slowly, however, a different fear began to settle over him. Someone was in the house. The floorboards creaked; a quiet thump reached his hunter’s ears despite the walls. Immediately, Steiner surged out of his sleeping place. It was nearly morning, but the sun would still be at least an hour or two in coming.

Plenty of time to deal with this intruder.

The door slammed open as Steiner burst into the hallway. Rather than a thug or stake-wielding hunter as he had expected, however, a pale figure stood there before him, her hand resting on the stairway railing. She smiled. A hint of fangs poked past her lips.

“Hello, Steiner. It’s been a while.”

Steiner just stared for a moment. His eyes flicked down the stairs to the front door where he had left the letter, and saw nothing. She had it, didn’t she?

Oh, lord, she had seen it. Had she already known about it in the museum?

“What, no greeting? Or have you forgotten how to speak entirely?” She paused, then frowned, concern passing over her features. “You haven’t gone feral, have you? I know how you starve yourself sometimes...“

Steiner quickly shook his heads, raising his hands in a quick refusal to match his voice. “No, no, I haven’t. I’m just... surprised to see you, that’s all.”

Annelia smiled again. He’d missed that smile.

Then she held up the letter, and familiarity was quickly replaced with total shame.

“What an interesting letter. Believe me, I was very intrigued when one of my thralls mentioned seeing my name on a letter at the museum.” Her smile slowly turned bitter as she let go of the letter. It drifted down the stairs, coming to rest on the ground below. “It’s a shame you never saw fit to send it, now isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, Annelia.” Steiner found himself unable to meet the red eyes in front of him. “I was afraid. The last time I had felt anything was-”

“You’ve told me, I know. But I wasn’t mortal, Steiner. You knew that.” Annelia walked closer, reaching up to place a hand against his cheek. Her fingertips were soft against his dead skin.

“Of course... it would be unfair of me to be so harsh, even after all these years, now wouldn’t it? A grudge is unbecoming. The stones don’t remember the blood that stains them.” She leaned closer, barely an inch away, and finally Steiner forced himself to look at her in kind. “Why don’t you come to my sanctum?”

Steiner found himself unable to speak again, unaccustomed to conversation as he was. “...Ah. I don’t know if that would be-”

And then she kissed him. There was no warmth - neither of them was alive, and though he had recently had his fill of blood, the energy and warmth deep in his core had long faded in favor of the shame that always came after feeding.

But even without the warmth of the living, there was comfort.

When she pulled away again, Steiner found himself longing to follow. Simply to feel her close by again. Reaching forward, Annelia took his hand, bloody though it was. “Well? Do finish your sentence.”

He was quiet for a moment before simply nodding. Annelia smiled again, fangs bared in the dark. The clouds shifted outside to let in a brief flash of moonlight, illuminating the two vampires. Then, hand in cold hand, they walked into the endless night together.

[thimblus]

Pegasus

"Remind me why we're out here again?" "I already explained it to you three times. How much did you have last night?" "More than I should have. Just... run it through one more time.".

Jack sighed at his older partner as he rubbed a hand over his face; maybe not the wisest move while driving, but he figured the road was clear out to the horizon anyway, and it was just a back country road to a house in the middle of nowhere.

"Apparently Jerry felt something off with the house just walking nearby." Benson frowned from the passenger seat. "Then why isn't Jerry handling it?" "It's his brother's family. You know the rules; emotional investment weakens resolve, and he doesn't have much of that in the first place." The car's tires rumbled against the gravel as Jack guided it off the paved road, sun glare stinging against his eyes. "Speaking of which, the rest of them are totally inert. So we're on secrecy protocol."

Benson groaned, shaking his head as he squinted in the sunlight. "'Course we get stuck with these yokel assignments. Probably just a stray minder tripping the tiny strings Jerry manages to put out."

"Maybe," Jack said, almost too quietly to hear. "But still, we've got to give it a look at least. We'll stop by that diner we passed on the way in after, on me." Benson grunted in grudging agreement, idly adjusting his tie and rumpled grey suit jacket back into place. Jack wondered if the older man had come off as being so... unkempt, or if it was a look into his own future.

Shaking his head, Jack pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and flicked the keys out of the ignition, tucking them into his pocket as he got out. Benson's door slammed shut across from him. The house was a fairly large one, a looming shadow against the afternoon Kansas sun. The windows were open to let the breeze in, curtains fluttering gently in time with the waves of the grassy plains behind it.

"We're pest inspectors, by the way. Jerry told them he saw some rats around and convinced them to have some people come in to check, so that's what we're going with." Jack adjusted his own tie into place as he approached the door, Benson shortly behind - the old man had gone quiet. Both of them could feel it now, of course; the intangible sense of dread practically radiating from the house.

And yet, unlike most places that gave off such an aura, something differed inside the storm. Something was fighting. With a deep breath in, Jack knocked on the thick oak door.

It opened barely a moment later, and it was all Jack could do not to recoil from the immediate sense of conflict rushing out from inside. Physical walls and barriers couldn't completely hold back mental auras, but they could still mitigate it some. It took him a moment to refocus on the woman in the doorway. "...inspectors Jerry sent?"

Jack nodded quickly, and the woman beckoned them in. "We didn't see any rats, but Jerry was so animate about it, we let him make the call just to get him to calm down. He gets so frantic."

It was hard to focus. Everything seemed fine on the surface, but the place was in chaos mentally; hatred and desperation surged through every door. Jack's bones itched with the need to flee, despite his attempts to fight down the urge and find the source. Benson, meanwhile, pressed forward quickly, the sense of purpose in his stride a harsh contrast to his usual careless demeanor - straight towards the stairs in the hallway behind the entry room.

"You're dressed a bit odd for pest inspectors. Going to impress the rats with those suits?" Jack spared a glance at her. Jerry's sister-in-law, presumably. "Ah. Local business, the boss has an odd sense of distinction and propriety." Only half a lie - their leader did like putting everyone in formal wear for assignments, for whatever reason. "Anyway, we'll just be looking around; don't mind us."

With that, he hurried off after Benson. The pit in his stomach only grew with each step. As he rounded the corner on the stairs, he could hear his partner's soft, but gruff voice speaking to someone unseen. "And who wins in those nightmares?"

A little girl's voice answered. "Pegasus. But she got hurt, and she's... slowing down."

Benson was nodding as Jack entered the room. The old man gave him a look he hadn't seen before - one that told him in no uncertain terms to keep quiet. Then Benson turned back towards the girl.

"And what happens when she loses?"

The girl seemed to shrink back on herself. "Bad things. It'll do bad things if it beats her."

Benson sighed, settling his hand against his knee. "Can you show me where the monster goes? In your dreams?"

She hesitated for a long moment, then nodded and scurried off down the hallway. Benson dropped back to walk beside Jack as the two of them followed, speaking under his breath. "Girl's got a construct. Strong one, too."

Jack blinked. A construct for such a young child? Imaginary friends were common enough, of course, but most were simple ideas; they had no power. If she'd managed to mold a true being out of hers already, then either it had attached itself to her of its own accord, or she was going to be a ridiculously strong will herself. This was Jerry's family? Hadn't he said the lot of them were inert?

"So much for being a stray minder." Jack sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to block out the growing rage, the indignation and malice flooding every fiber of his being. The girl came to a stop in front of another stairway leading up, and simply pointed at the crawlspace door above. "It comes from in there," she said.

Benson nodded and started up. "Well, don't you worry. We'll take care of it, and Pegasus can rest." Jack was less sure - but still, he started up behind Benson all the same. The girl watched, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. As his hand came to rest against the doorknob, Benson spared a glance at Jack. "Get ready. She probably doesn't have a good hold on it, so we might end up fighting both her construct and today's baddie."

Jack could only nod, gritting his teeth as he visualized his shield.

The door creaked open easily under Benson's gentle push...

And all of a sudden, the world was a flood of deep, blood red, fighting against a shining blue.

-

It took almost an hour to shatter it; the daemon today was easily the strongest one Jack had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Then again, that title seemed to change with almost every other assignment these days.

Benson took it even worse than he did; Jack had a feeling that the old man had pushed himself a bit further than he should have, trying to keep its focus off of Jack, or - God forbid - the girl. Strong though she may have been, unfocused strength would have been worse than simply being inert. In the end, Benson had had to go out to the car after the daemon was finally destroyed, leaving Jack to explain to the girl.

"Is the monster gone, now?" She tilted her head as she looked up at Jack, the armpits of his suit soaked in sweat from the exertion of the battle. The house itself was undisturbed, of course; the fight was entirely mental today. No cursed objects or manifestations. He nodded slowly as he replied. "It should be. How old are you?"

"Seven and a half."

"You're very talented. You and Pegasus both. Listen; you're going to see a lot of scary things while you're growing up. Some of them won't mean anything by it; some might want to hurt you. If you ever see something that Pegasus can't fight off easy, I want you to give us a call." He handed her one of their cards, wincing to himself as he noted the sweat soaking the corners. "Don't let your mom see that, either. She won't be able to see any of it. We'll come again when you get older, when you'll understand better. Until then, don't pick any fights you can't win, alright?"

The girl nodded slowly. Jack stood with a sigh. They'd have to have someone keep watch on her - even despite what he told her, children weren't the best at following long-term instructions like that, and someone as strong as she was would undoubtedly draw predators and parasites, looking for challenge or stolen strength.

Still, there was nothing they could do but wait and hope for her right now. She was waving goodbye in the windows when they left; Jack could almost see, in his mind eye, the gleaming blue of wings stretched protectively in front of her.