A most peculiar Ravenswick.

I Ain't Got a Penny

2009-11-13T19:10:00.000-08:00

The past few months have been rather trying, and I must admit that I have epically failed whatever test this may have been. I found myself in a vicious depression. Truly, it was nothing I'd felt before. I'd been suicidal, yes, and I'd nearly ended my life more than half a dozen times before, but this was something entirely new. I would have gone through with the thoughts if those around me hadn't kept me in line.

Rowane was the first to save me. I don't know why I had decided to visit him that day, or let alone tell him what my intentions were. I wasn't seeking attention, and I certainly didn't want him to stop. It was just something done on a whim, which turned out to be a saving grace. Next was my husband. Moris hasn't been around much since the incident, yet when he is, he's certainly the most supporting husband a wife could ask to have. He'd been informed of my recent emotional dilemma and had gone to drastic measures to bring me back. It'd worked, and very well, for a short time.

Then there was Lethe. I won't dare elaborate on him or his methods, however. They're the harshest treatment I've ever received. That's saying something, too, considering what I've allowed myself to be put through.

Finally Lucas was the one who brought me back. Possibly this was the turning point because it wasn't something I'd ever expected; not from Lucas, I mean. Yet, there he was, in the cottage, telling me just how everything had happened and how much of a bitch I am. He said I didn't care.

I did care, and I do care. I just wasn't showing it. I wasn't appreciating the hell people were going through for me and my family, the horrible things they'd endured, and I was forgetting perhaps the most important part of my life.

My son. I was forgetting about my son while I wallowed in my self-pity and self-hatred. That was my worst offense, really. How dare I forget my only child, potentially the weakest, most vulnerable of us all. Thank God he was the strongest, though. I don't deserve him, yet he is mine, and I won't forget that ever again. I owe my everything to those around me. Rowane de'Dannan, Lucas Wylder and Setheus, Lethe and Seraphina Aurion, Zillah Grey, Moris, Adrian Tepes and his woman-friend... all of them.

I'm in their debt, truly.

2009-09-09T21:28:00.000-07:00

Good and bad are matters of perception, truly. It's all a matter of context. What may good for me now, in this situation, may very well be horrible in two week's time.

I think what happened this evening was good. Lethe, my ex-husband from more than a decade ago, seemed to think it was. Now, Lethe and I have spoke off-and-on recently (the last year or so). We've gotten over whatever, and, with most of the significant others I've had, I still do hold some measure of love for him in my heart. [The only exception of this would be Joel Alexander, and with good reason.] So, to my surprise, Lethe stopped in the other evening just to chat. What happened, however, was an inquisition about terrible recent events and who was behind them. I told him and became a sobbing wreck as I did so, and he quickly took his leave.

That was yesterday. Today he showed up with a gift box for me. Zillah, Maharet, and Rowane had been there, checking up as they tend to do, and it was a grand time, even when Z kept trying to one-up Adrian Tepes, a friend of the Ravenswick family.

What Lethe gave me wasn't your average, ordinary 'hope you feel better soon!' present. Oh, no, not at all. Lethe gave me Lamia's heart, giftwrapped in a box.

He gave me her heart.

Lamia's heart.

I suppose I'm very grateful, but, honestly, what the fuck am I going to do with Lamia's heart?

2009-09-08T13:40:00.000-07:00

The Code of Hammurabi

The Code of Hammurabi is a collection of laws which the ancient peoples of Hammurabi's time followed in order to maintain a semblance of peace in their lands. These are the codes they lived and died by. They're still followed to an extent even to this day.

#14. If any one steal the minor son of another, he shall be put to death.

#23. If a man practices robbery and is not captured, the man who has been robbed shall, in the presence of God, make an itemized statement of his loss, and the city and the governor in whose province and jurisdiction the robber was committed shall compensate him or whatever was lost.

#195. If a son has struck his father, one shall cut off his hands.

#196. If one destroys the eye of a free-born man, his eye one shall take.

#197. If anyone breaks the limb of a free-born man, his limb one shall break.

#200. If he knocks out the teeth of a man who is his equal, his teeth one shall knock out.

#209. If anyone has struck a free-born woman and caused her to let fall what was in her womb, he shall pay ten shekels of silver for what was in her womb.

#210. If that woman dies, one shall put his daughter to death.

There are books written about her. A demoness from the start, left in the hands of Man. That didn't work, obviously, and as Adam urged her to lay beneath him, to submit to him, she uttered the very name of God and rose and left the Paradise of Eden. She wandered for an untold amount of time, laying with other demons, producing spawn. Some say these "children" became the very same succubi and incubi we still encounter to this day. And legend continues to suggest that these descendants are the vampires that stalk the night. I don't know how much truth there is to this, nor does it matter in the end, but the idiom "the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree" does come to mind.

But there are naturally exceptions. My sister, Malia, is an exception. The most vital one in my life, I suppose. She's a witch, she's a dhampir of sorts: Half vampire, half human, entirely spiffy. I will not condemn them all, for I have no right to, or no wish to, but I will stand behind Zillah Grey, to an extent. My goal is to see the destruction of the whore of Eden and nothing more, nothing less. This will happen. The fight has already begun.

Justice will be done. Cave canem.

2009-08-23T07:25:00.000-07:00

Nadia had never died before. She'd come close to doing so dozens of times in the past, but she'd never truly died. Her heart hadn't stopped beating, her brain hadn't stopped sending messages to the rest of her body. Those close-calls in the past were just a sort of exploration with her rather large masochistic side. That's what it had to have been, because you don't ask a man to choke you to death then offer to fuck him once he gives you your breath back just for kicks and giggles.

What the witch was feeling now, however, was different than all of those near-misses from before. She ached all over and felt oddly empty. Something important was missing from her as she moved through the darkness. Was it her soul? That didn't make any sense to her, though. She thought harder.

There was a constant blackness, she felt empty, and there was pain. A dull ache that wasn't going away no matter how she moved through the void she'd been thrust into.

She thought. What had happened before she got to the void?

The memory wouldn't come to her. Nothing would come to her, besides an uneasy feeling about the missing part of her.

Maybe this was her soul, she'd decided. This was really her, her mind and soul, drifting through the void, stripped of a body. That made some sense, though it didn't quite explain the pain she was feeling. Nadia didn't like the idea that she was to believe her soul had pain receptors. That contradicted everything she'd learned in life.

In life? So she really was dead? Moris was going to be rather put off by this, she decided as she moved through the darkness. Setheus and Zillah would be, too. They'd have to tell the children what happened. Hopefully someone would know, Nadia decided. She didn't. Maharet would understand the concept of death, if that's what this was. She was old enough. Kendrew would, too, but even though he was only 3 years younger than Maharet, he would recover better, perhaps. Ameera was already an adult, even though she was only six. Zillah had better be gentle when he told her. And then there was the matter of the baby--

....the baby.

Nadia remembered exactly what had happened, and as a flood of images clashed in her mind, she was pulled back to the present. Oh, Goddess, how she ached, how her body was so in pain. She wanted death again, she decided. Nothing had been this horrible before. Shivan had only caused her mild discomfort, a small bout of rug burn, if you will.

"Mor...," she tried. No, that hurt and was exhausting. Moris had been angry with her prior to this anyway, she remembered. Did he know? Was Kendrew still alright? "....Zill...ah?" She should probably try to open her eyes, but, as selfish as it was, she didn't want to.

The witch started to cry and sought out her oblivion again. If ever there was a time for someone to die, let this be it.

2009-08-20T18:02:00.000-07:00

It's a curious feeling, having a hellhound back in my life. Sure, it's something that was rather spontaneous and will probably have rather harsh repercussions later, but I'm thinking it's worth it. After a slight argument, and my sub-sequential migration to the Townhouse, it's nice to have someone to talk to. Zillah had, naturally, shown up unexpectedly. He'd practically pounded the door in by the time I was able to waddle my way from the library to the door; for some reason he didn't have his keys on him.

After talking about this and that, much of which was really just him assuring me that what had happened between Moris and myself was a natural reaction and that things would be perfectly fine. I nodded, though I didn't quite agree with him. I still don't, I think. And I didn't keep this quiet for long, either. I showed Z all of the things I'd been studying, showed him the signs I found.

Not to sound cliche, but "something wicked this way comes."

Because of this he offered to stay the night. It took quite a bit of persuading on his part, I'll admit. I'm still not entirely comfortable with him staying, only because of the argument it may bring him in the future. I don't want to be the cause for someone else's relationship issues; I've had enough of my own to know that outside forces aren't needed encouragement. But he's stayed, a loyal hound, protecting me from my own imagination, because at this point, that's the most threatening thing to me.

2009-08-02T20:36:00.000-07:00

Zillah finally stopped by the Townhouse, just as Maharet said he was going to. He looks rather well, then again, he also looks like shit. I suppose it has to do with his current situation. I want to help him. I mean, why wouldn't I? Sure, after he helped Moris and I he just.... left me, but still. I look past that because I understand why he did it. I probably would have, too. I also don't think twice about it because of all the other memories we have.

Not those sorts of memories. Zillah and I were never intimate, though I can understand why people would assume as such. "The Mistress and her Hellhound" the would say as we passed, so what else could they think? No, never intimate. He would hold me while I cried against his tee or he would allow me to stroke his hair, his head on my lap. Zillah protected me from so much, including myself at times. For some reason which I cannot understand, he almost always knew what was best for me, even if he didn't like it. In a way, I owe the man.

So when he asks for my assistance, in his own way of asking, of course, I can't say 'no.' I may be a Coven witch, but I'm not that much of a bitch. I'll do as much as I can, all depending on what my current 'situation' allows. I'll help him, yes, but not if what's needed runs the risk harming my unborn child's well-being. This pregnancy is a scientific mystery and I'm sure even Zillah would admit that. We -- I --... Moris and I can't risk losing our child. Something in my gut is telling me we wouldn't be able to duplicate what happened.

2009-07-31T20:11:00.000-07:00

The pregnancy is going along swimmingly. I must admit that I do feel rather blessed. Not one easy-going pregnancy, but two? Some women get ridiculously sick and yet here I am, more ambitious than ever. But I'm not complaining because that would just be dumb. I may be a bit slow at times, but I'm not about to complain.

Kendrew's been spending time at his friend Elai's. I'm glad he's made such a close friend while he's off at school. I'd heard a few things about some of the boys there, especially one whose name was 'Myles', I believe. Life is tragic sometimes, yes, but I'm so pleased with how it isn't tragic for Kendrew. Family, friends, and school. It's a delightful change from what's happened in the past.

It all worked out so well. Between Moris and Setheus, my life is so amazingly boring and I don't think I would really have it any other way.

Devils and Heathens

2009-06-21T00:01:00.000-07:00

I gave birth to a monster. There is no other way to state what Maharet is. No polite term, no politically correct word can be used to interpret exactly what she is. Though only eleven years old, she's more than a handful. She's a bloodthirsty monster and I fear I won't be able to guide her as a mother should.

We had engaged in a simple post-mother-daughter talk activity. She was excited about what she'd learned recently; an old trick of stone and flame I was once proficient in. So taken by this excitement, I proposed that she show me just how well she'd progressed. Maharet was eager to do this, and so we made our way from the study to the gardens. The area was empty for Basil had already retired for the evening, as had most of the staff. It was just the two of us, three once I'd summoned an illusionary being to assist in this sample. I couldn't do it myself, for I've Addyson in my womb, and I wouldn't risk her for anything in the world.

The risk wouldn't be my decision, it would seem, though. Maharet's bloodlust or rage or whatever it's known as these days overtook her. In a split second, she had felled the being and was upon me. It was difficult, trying to evade her strikes. I was already sore and slow, and to have a child -- my child -- upon me? Thank Goddess I was able to calm her before it was too late. Once I had, she simply stared at me. I raised my voice to her, I couldn't help it. She'd endangered not just her mother's life, but that of her unborn sibling.

And to think that she wanted to return to school. Not just any one, the one whose library she burned to the ground. I can't let her attend an institution such as that when she's a risk. I don't think Joel can help her, either. I'm putting too much faith in this man that I despise, all for my devil child.

Joel didn't get rid of her demon as we all thought. He merely lulled it to sleep.

2009-06-20T00:27:00.000-07:00

The Story: A Classic

The Twist: Something New

The Conclusion: TBA. ;D

Another.

2009-04-22T18:08:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time in the works.

Moris and I are planning another masquerade. Hopefully this one will be.... better than the last.

I'll give more information as we finalize plans.

Want.

2007-11-06T05:35:00.000-08:00

I want to dance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I just want to spin the night away.

Cupcakes.

2007-08-29T12:51:00.000-07:00

[[Insert Various Quiz Result Here]]

If.... if I were to make my own cupcakes, they would be chocolate, with vanilla frosting. There would be little dark blue and bright cyan sprinkles on them. Moris would LOVE my cupcakes. If he didn't, he'd sleep on the couch. But, since he loves my cake, he'll have to love my cupcakes. I should open up a small business, a bakery. It'd be fun. Every wife needs a hobby after all.

Mistaken.

2007-09-08T22:46:00.001-07:00

Joel came to visit me the other day. I've been seeing more of him lately, and it just... it makes me feel like something is going to happen. Something bad. I don't know what -- Ok, I do know what (mostly) and... yeah.

I hope the angel knows what he's doing. If not, I'm in a world of trouble.

If he doesn't, if he's wrong, then I'm back to where I was two days before I married Moris. I can't let that happen, I don't want that to happen.

Aerjadflkjiagkhdjkfghjkabhgjkhd.

Rowane once muttered something about how things are strange, but they always work out. Goddess, I hope he's right.

2007-08-17T16:40:00.000-07:00

She smirked at an enigmatic guardian. "Why... aren't you a lovely one?" Nadia winked at him from her carefully selected seat on the ground, her arms crossed over her chest just right, hiding her... assets. He raised his eyebrow at the woman, a look of disinterest very evident on his face.

"Ask me for passage if you wish to enter Hades' realms," the guardian said. "Anything else does not interest me." Nadia pouted at him and looked away. She chewed on her lower lip, plotting what to do next.

'I could try to seduce him verbally,' she thought to herself, 'I could make myself invisible. I'm good at that.' She glanced at the figure in black. '....or I could move onto physical seduction.' Nadia thought the last would probably work the best.

"I'm not interested," the form said as she uncrossed her arms and stood up. She hadn't even said anything to him! This was terribly frustrating for her, the Mistress that was used to getting her way.

"Wot the bloody hell are you interested in?" she hissed, crossing her arms again.

"Passa--"

"Passage to Hades' realm," she said, cutting the guardian off. "Right-o. Gotcha." Nadia rolled her eyes. "Bastard," she muttered, "Could at least get creative. And a new goal. It's almost as if he wants some trim or something from Persephone."

"...trim?"

Nadia laughed. "Well, you see, Mr. Enigmatic Guardian, tr--"

"Nadia!" shouted a voice from behind her. She whirled around and saw Rowane de'Dannan standing there, his eyes covered. "Come on, this way, girl." She grumbled, annoyed at the fact that she couldn't 'elaborate' for the being of the underworld.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, stalking over to Rowane, past a rather confused looking guardian.

"Trim," the guardian repeated once they had left. "I must find out what that is. Her tone suggested it may be better than passage."

2007-08-13T17:55:00.001-07:00

'Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight, oh, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight,' Nadia breathed as she closed her eyes, the bottle of wine falling from her hand. Not that it had a long tumble - the mistress was lying in in the over grown grass of the Chateau's garden. She took a deep, shuddering breath and a few tears fell rolled down her temples.

Someone picked up the empty bottle and tossed it aside. Nadia felt them lie down next to her, and felt their fingers brush hair out of her face. 'I'm sorry, Moris,' Nadia whispered.

'I'm not Moris, dear,' Setheus said to her, his voice gentle. 'What's your wish, Nadia?' The woman opened her eyes and tilted her head towards the angel. She sniffled and rolled onto her side, looking into Seth's eyes.

'That I didn't know,' she whimpered, leaning against his chest. He leaned down, closing the gap between their faces. 'I wish that I hadn't asked him.' Nadia fell into another wave of tears, these coming harder, her body shaking harshly.

Setheus sat up and pulled the crying woman onto his lap. 'You had to know, Nadie,' he whispered, his hand gently rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. 'It'd be harder if you didn't know. You'd just feel angry and lost.'

Nadia sniffled loudly and looked up at Setheus, tears still falling. 'You're still trying to make amends,' she said, frowning. 'Don't tell me my wish is wrong, don't tell me I did the right thing, angel. You don't know how much it hurts.'

'Nadie, I d---'

'You don't! I hate him!' she sobbed, pushing against Seth's shoulders. 'I hate him and I have to live with knowing what role he had in my life! You don't understand this pain.' She sniffled loudly and wiped at her eyes with her palm. 'Now look at me. Look at this, I'm drunk and emo and lying outside in my pajamas. I'm here, crying. Did I say I'm drunk?' She rambled on, her words slurring together more and more until she fell into another harsh fit of sobs.

'You're fine,' Setheus cooed, feeling through her hair. 'Alright, so it hurts, life hurts, Nadie. You know it does.' He shifted Nadia on his lap so she was looking at his face. 'But you'll deal with it just fine, you take everything in stride, and so does your husband.' Nadia sniffled and pouted at the angel, her nose wrinkled and brow creased. 'He'll take it fine. But if you don't tell him about the Destroyer soon, I will.'

Nadia glared at him.

'Yes, Nadia Lynn Marie, I'll tell him,' Setheus warned her. 'So you'd better hop to it. And stop drinking, it'll lead to nothing good.' He ran his fingers through her hair again, his hand lingering along her back. Setheus licked his lips instinctively, wetting the exceptionally dry skin. 'Now, you're going to get up off my lap and go inside.'

'But-'

'You're going inside, Lady Ravenswick,' Setheus hissed, his hand dropping to the ground. 'You're going to wipe your tears and go back to bed. Moris is going to wake up if you're gone much longer.'

Nadia's eyes softened, her drunkenness still showing through. 'Will you kiss me? You used to,' she muttered, 'when things were bad.'

'You're drunk,' Setheus said flatly. 'You don't want me to kiss, you just want to feel lips on your own. Go to bed, Nadie.' She pouted at him again. 'Right now. You've made your wish, you yelled at me, you cried to me, you know what you have to do.' Setheus voice had been steadily growing louder, and he'd moved Nadia off of his lap and stood. 'You know, woman, now act. Be the mother, the lover, the wife, the daughter. Be strong. You're their link. You're their hope, now find yours. Find your hope, your faith, your love, your courage, your chari---'

'Enough,' hissed a quiet voice from behind them. 'Enough.' Setheus spun around and fount himself face-to-face with Moris Ravenswick. 'First I find you with my wife, just the two of you. Next, you're yelling at her. Goodness only knows if you took advantage of her state.' Setheus opened his mouth to speak, perhaps in an attempt to defend himself. Moris glared at him. 'It matters very little to me what you wish to say... I warned you once what would happen... leave now before I fulfill my promise.' Seth looked from the pale man to his bride before rolling his eyes.

'You'll trust me yet, Ravenswick,' he muttered. Then he was gone.

Nadia sniffled up at her husband, her eyes still glazed from the wine. Sighing heavily, Moris stepped over to her and picked her up, the woman happily slipping her arms around his neck, embracing him. Moris said nothing to her, but just simply took her inside. They'd talk when she was sober.

2007-08-10T01:21:00.000-07:00

"Oh my god," Nadia breathed, her hands pressed against the display case, much like a small child's would be around Christmas time. "It's... it's beautiful." Moris peeked over his wife's shoulder and shook his head. It was just a blue and gray rectangle, what was so special about it? It had a button that could be pushed, and a couple wires were protruding from it, but still. Moris Ravenswick just didn't understand Nadia's fascination.

Nadia squealed loudly as she jumped up and down in front of the display. "Oh my god, Moris, go get me a sales person! This is perfect!" Moris just stared at her, his eyes reflecting a bit of confusion. After squealing a couple more times, it finally registered in her mind that Moris hadn't moved yet. "Go get the lady that's over there! I finally found a pressie for him!"

After about twenty minutes of unlocking this and that, finding the right colour mixture (Nadia highly doubted the recipient of this gift wanted a lime and black one), and filling out various warranty sheets, the Ravenswicks were ready to go. With Moris carrying the bags, and Nadia holding a small box, they walked out of the store and onto the windy, snow-covered path. It was back to the suite to pack their items... and to search through the twins' room one last time. They'd been sent back to Joel's a few nights before, after Moris' interlude with Setheus, and Nadia and Moris were ready to head home themselves.

Moris didn't ask why his wife was crying, and she didn't tell him why. He didn't ask who laid claim to her as their 'firebrand,' nor did he ask if she knew the angel's name. She would have gladly answered any question he asked. She'd forgotten that she hadn't mentioned a few things to her husband. She'd inadvertently kept a few secrets, and though it was killing her husband, she had no idea. Thus, Mistress Ravenswick couldn't fix it. This was quite the no-win situation for them, and only time would tell if it was fixed at all.

"It's all clean," Nadia said as Moris zipped the bubblegum pink duffel bag shut. "Not even a candy wrapper under the bed." She stepped up beside her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you," she mumbled against his shirt. Moris smiled at his wife and brushed an auburn lock out of her face. He didn't say anything, however. This gentleman knew he didn't need to say a word. His wife was content, and he didn't want to break that. Not after everything that had happened lately. She was his world. His wife, his passion, his Lady, his eternal lover.

"And I'll never stop, Ravenswick."

She said more than enough for both of them.

Another Meeting.

2007-08-02T11:08:00.000-07:00

"Kendrew?" Nadia questioned softly, pushing the floral-pattern comforter off her body and leaving her husband's side. "Darling, what's wrong?" She pulled on a near-sheer silk bathrobe as she rushed over to the pale child. The instant she reached him, she picked the boy up, his teddy bear dropping from his grasp.

"'dia, I couldn' sleep. I had a bad dweam," the boy cried, clinging to Nadia. Moris had crawled out of bed, looking concerned for Kendrew, but also looking slightly disappointed -- his hair was a complete mess. Husband and wife crooned over the five year old, brushing hair back

"Dream. We've had lessons about this, Kendrew. Dream, with an 'r.'"

Three bodies quickly turned to look at who the new voice belonged to. It took just a millisecond for any of them to realize just who was standing in the room with them. Moris gently pushed Nadia and Kendrew behind his body, his tall form protecting his wife and would-be son from the intruder. "Nadia, take Kendrew to his room," Moris said, his tone suggesting it was an order, not a request. His eyes had adopted a cold edge, one that hadn't been evident in months.

"Moris," Nadia said quietly, trying to step around her husband, trying to get a good look at her uninvited guest. "Stop this, let me se--"

"Nadia!" Moris half-shouted, trying his very best to remain the gentleman in his moment of panic. "Please, just take Kendrew to his room." He glanced over his shoulder at his wife. "And stay there with him."

Nadia shot Moris an awful glare, and her hold on Kendrew went a bit lax. The little boy took this opportunity to squirm from her grasp to see who was here with them for himself. He gasped delightedly when he peeked around Moris' leg. "Setheus!" he squealed, running for the man. A weak smile crossed Seth's face.

"Hey, bud," he said, kneeling down so he was almost eye-level with the child. "How're you doing?" The little boy sniffled and rubbed at his right eye.

"I had a bad drrream."

"A drrream?" Setheus ruffled Kendrew's hair. "Why didn't you call me, you little twerp?"

Kendrew made a face at Seth and he tried to push his hand away. "You'we messin' up my haiw!" he said, pouting. Setheus gave him a pointed look. "Rrrrrr! You're messin' up my hairrrrrr!" Suddenly Kendrew found himself off his feet and instead in Moris' strong hold.

"Take him to his room, Nadia," Moris said quietly, his jaw clenching as he gently handed the child to his wife. "And please, Nadia, please stay with him until I call for you."

Normally Nadia Ravenswick would have objected. After all, who was Moris to tell her what to do? She was her own woman! She was independent, and she didn't take orders from anyone...anymore! However, with a pouting child squirming in her grasp, she wasn't left with much choice. Hrmphing loudly at Moris, she turned on her heel and sped towards the twins' bedroom, cooing softly to Kendrew as she moved. Moris shut the door behind her and he slid the lock into place.

"Before you do anything rash, Ravenswick, hear me out," Setheus said to the silver-haired gentleman as he moved across the room. "For the love of everything beautiful, just listen!" Moris glanced at Seth, yet said nothing, his hand reaching for the silver cane that was resting next to Nadia's CD player.

"You've nothing worthwhile to say, angel," Moris said, unsheathing the sword which normally lay hidden in a perfect cylinder of silver. "You invade my rooms, speak to one of my children as if you were an old friend, and you stare at my wife." Setheus flinched. "Yes, I saw your eyes. They're not much different than the instructor's, or the bell-boy's, or even Joel Alexander's."

"Alexander is engaged--"

"To the High Priestess Malia, yes, I kno--"

"No, Ravenswick, you don't know!" Setheus hissed, glaring at Moris as he approached, the tip of the sword pointed at Seths' perfect and pale neck. "The vampire's birthday, he ended it. Chara's 'present' was his breaking off his engagement to Malia." The angel backed away, oofing when he felt his back bump against the wall. "Kyla. He's fallen for another mortal. He's fallen for Kyla."

Moris glared at Setheus, his eyes locking with the angel's. Silence surrounded the two of them as Moris let all of the information roll over in his mind, the only sound the soft voice of a woman singing. Both assumed it belonged to Nadia.

"That doesn't matter," Moris said quietly. "You still entered my rooms uninvited. You still caused my wife torment." He leaned forward, the blade's tip gently nicking Seth's neck. "If only I could cause the same for you."

Setheus rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to rectify that, Mor--"

"You shouldn't have caused it in the first place!" bellowed Moris, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm not the only one who caused it!" Setheus shouted in return, his black hair beginning to show awful red highlights. "And you know that, Ravenswick."

"You're right," Moris said in a very forced calm. "You aren't much better than the Grendel, either." Setheus rolled his eyes again.

"Are you truely that narrow-minded?" he hissed. "I wasn't speaking of the dragon-spawn. I was talking about the Destroyer. Ever thought to ask your wife what their last conversation was about?" Moris' eyes flickered, a bit of confusion and jealousy showing through. He slowly lowered the sword. "Ever thought to ask Nadia if she's anyone's little firebrand?"

"Firebrand?"

Setheus' right wing twitched. "That's his term," he said lightly, slowly edging away from Moris.

Moris frowned, looking a bit worn, and beaten. And hurt. That was perhaps the most evident emotion, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from the angel. Why hadn't Nadia mentioned Amducious? Was there something more he didn't know? It was bad enough that she hadn't told him, but to hear it from a being he loathed made the betrayal all the worse. "We're not done, angel," Moris said, sheathing his sword. "We will speak again. If you wish to see that conversation, however, leave me." Setheus didn't move. "Now!"

"Alright," Seth breathed, glancing at the bedroom door. "She's coming back anyway." Moris watched Setheus intently, noting his movements, frowning slightly when Seth's wing twitched again. It was boggling him as to why the angel was walking towards the balcony door. It was bitter cold outside... where had he come from, actually? Moris glanced around the room, looking at the possible entries. When Moris looked back to Seth, however, he wasn't there.

"How..." Moris began, standing up. Just then, Nadia opened the door, her eyes brimming with tears.

Singing.

2007-07-28T19:14:00.001-07:00

Nadia pulled the little boy onto her lap, his blue and red Spider-Man pajama pants clashing horribly with her lime ones. "What's wrong, bud?" she asked, brushing a tuft of messy red hair out of Kendrew's face.

"It's 'Sa," he sniffled, snuggling up against the woman. She resisted that horrible urge to roll her eyes. She loved the child, there was no point in denying it. How could she not? She was smart, protective, and most of all -- a child in need. But sometimes, even the smartest children prove that they're just... children. "She's aways sayin' that I'm not bein' stwong enuff." He sniffled louder. "She says I could have got hew fastew. That I didn't hewp enuff when that man took hew. She says that no one cawes."

Nadia looked down at the child, still playing with his hair. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, to be honest. "Kerensa...said that?" she asked softly, tilting the boy's head so he looked up at her.

"Uh huh."

Kendrew burst into tears again, his little body pressed tight against Nadia, his ribs aching as he cried. "Oh, darling, shhh," Nadia said, a bit loud, so she could be heard over his crying. "That's not true. You're strong, Kendrew. I told you this. I proved it." She bit her lip and sniffled herself, her eyes glancing around the room. Her gaze first landed on the bathroom door, which was shut, only a small line of light escaping from the bottom. Moris was busy taking his shower, but he'd be done sometime soon. She then found what she was looking for. Nadia knew that she would only have a short amount of time, but she only needed three minutes.

After all, Nadia didn't know all of the words to the song. Just most of them. And Mr Collins wouldn't be too offended if he were there to hear -- it was for a good cause.

Hugging Kendrew closer to her, she held onto him as she stood and made her way to the dresser. Flicking through a large case of CDs, she pulled out a silver and black one. Pressing the 'open' button, a large plastic tray was ejected, filled with 5 or so disks already. She pulled a dark red one covered with gold colour spiraled designs and set it next to the player. "Sorry, Panic, but this is an emergency!" Phil Collins took his place in disk slot number three. Pushing the 'open' button again, Nadia watched the CD player close and then register the newly placed disk. "Come on," she whined, hugging the still-crying Kendrew. She skipped to track 8.

Then the music started playing, and she smiled.

"Come, stop your crying, it'll be all right," she sang softly, holding Kendrew away slightly so she could look down at him. "Just take my hand and hold it tight." The boy continued to sniffle, but his crying had subsided for now. "I'll protect you from, all around you," Nadia continued, her voice growing more confident with each word. "I'll protect you, keep you safe and warm." Voice emphasis on safe and warm. Yeah, she could do this.

Kendrew giggled as she spun them around, the pair of them "dancing" as Nadia kept on singing. She got a few verses confused, and hummed a large part of the time, but Kendrew didn't seem to care too much. He was all smiles now, and that's just what Nadia had wanted."Oh, you'll be in my heart no matter what they say."

They were by the bedroom door now, and she gently set him on the floor. "You'll be in my heart, always." Nadia opened the door and ruffled the little boy's hair as the song came to a close. "Always, now go to bed. We've a long day tomorrow."

He laughed again and darted out the door and down the hall, to the bedroom he shared with his twin. Nadia closed the door, sighing softly. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she started. "Who the he--- Oh," she laughed as she saw her husband. "I didn't realize you were done with your shower."

"Only for the last two and a half minutes," he said quietly, kissing his wife. "Now why don't you sing for me? Dance for me? I do like the sound of that song that's playing right now."

A Continuation.

2007-07-23T22:27:00.000-07:00

Nadia put a finger to her lips, looking down at the small red-headed boy at her side. They’d snuck away while Moris and Kerensa took a nap, the two curled up next to each other on the bed, a book on the man’s stomach, an arm around the little girl.

His wife and foster-son probably shouldn’t have been left to their own devices together, though.

“Awe you suew?” Kendrew whispered, crouched next to Nadia as she leaned over the banister of the upper level in the hotel, he peering through the bars to look over the check-in counter and most of the lobby where the early morning patrons were checking in or out of their rooms. “I don’t see him.”

“He’s there, see him?” Nadia pointed in the direction of a youngish bellhop who was adjusting his hat near some luggage. “That’s the one.”

“Oooh, I see him!” Kendrew dug his hand into the suitcase, pulling a sopping wet sponge out of it. He leapt to his feet, running down the walk as fast as his little legs would carry him, turning back to look at the chocolate-eyed woman as she raised a sponge she’d also got out of the bag. He leaned foreword through the bars, balancing himself with one hand while holding his sponge out as far as he could, waiting.

“Okay now!”

Nadia threw her sponge, while Kendrew dropped his. They fell fast and landed hard, one hitting Tony on the right shoulder while the other caught his forehead and sent his hat flying off to the side. The two fell backwards as the man let out a startled, angry cry attempting to call the culprits out. In a fit of giggles Kendrew returned down the hall as Nadia gathered the bag and beckoned for him to follow her around the large, square walk to the opposite side. When they were settled again she pointed out a sour-faced looking maid that was walking across the ground floor to try to help Tony.

“Her now.”

“What’d she do?”

“She made a comment about my hair,” Nadia stated knowingly before handing Kendrew another sponge. He only took a couple of steps that time, before Nadia gave him the signal and the two sent the sponges down at her, one getting her on the back of the head, the other landing on her rear. Again the two fell back laughing wildly, Kendrew leaping back to join Nadia.

“Now who, now who?” He asked, hopping up and down excitedly.

“That guy there behind the counter. He over priced our wine at dinner last night.” Nadia pointed again, though a hand came out, grabbing the bag away as she went to dig in to get a couple of more sponges.

“Why did I know that when I woke up and the two of you were gone that you’d be up to no good?” Moris asked, peering into the bag before up at his wife and one of his charges. The other stood next to him, looking sternly at her brother who giggled sheepishly and tried to wipe the evidence on his pant legs.

“Oh come on, it’s all in good fun. You should try it.” Nadia winked at Moris who only frowned and shook his head.

“Terrorizing the staff when they have access to our room at all hours isn’t such a good idea.” Though it was clear the silver-haired gentleman was suppressing a smirk as he glanced over the railing to look at the commotion the two had caused below. He clearly didn’t like that Tony the bellhop kid any better than he liked the ski instructor.

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

Moris had suggested that the family amuse themselves in other ways, something less destructive, and that they could all do and be entertained. It was Kerensa that had suggested building snowmen, and everyone seemed to agree on this in the end. So out into the winter the family trekked, bundled up for the weather, the children running ahead to find ‘the perfect spot’ to build their snowman.

While building the snowmen, Kerensa and Kendrew would often stop and stare at one another, like some kind of silent conversation only they could hear was going on. Occasionally one of them would giggle, though at one point the two burst into mad fits of them, the little girl falling backwards, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at her twin.

“What should we name our snowman?” Moris asked as they drew near the end. It was an odd little thing, lopsided with a stick for one arm, and a ski-pole for the other, with a marker that someone had had in their pocket for a nose, a couple of rocks for eyes, and some twizzlers for a mouth.

“Rowane.” Nadia smirked, looking the snowman over, and Kerensa giggled.

“No, I don’t think he quite looks like Rowane,” Moris mused, though Kendrew seemed to no longer be paying attention. Something had caught his attention and the little red haired boy was looking towards the trees curiously.

“Setheus?”

“What darling?” Nadia asked, and Kendrew twisted around to look at the three of them. Kerensa had suddenly gone quiet, Moris’ lips drawn in a thin, straight line. “Setheus? I like that name…” She stated quietly, turning to look at the snowman.

“I think… That we’ve been outside long enough. Let’s go and get us something to drink to warm up, shall we?” Moris asked, crouching to scoop Kerensa up. He was trying to keep his voice even but the message was clear.

The angel was unwelcome, regardless of how he came to be announced.

Preparations.

2007-07-22T16:08:00.000-07:00

“All right,” she said, smearing a couple lines of dark paint on Kendrew’s cheeks. “We’re going to have to be careful, and we have to be quiet.” Nadia pressed a finger against her lips after wiping it clean of face paint. The little boy nodded and loaded some of the paint onto his fingers.

“’dia?” he inquired, looking at her curiously. She nodded and, with a giggle, Kendrew smeared the paint onto Nadia’s face.

“Oh, careful, careful,” she laughed, quickly wrapping his hands in a wash cloth, cleaning the excess paint from his fingers. “You almost got it in my hair, you silly boy.”

He giggled at her again and she stood up. “Ok,” she said, “Do we have everything?” Kendrew ran over to the table and clambered onto a chair so he could peek inside the bag.

“’dia, what did we need?” he asked, looking up to her as she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail.

“Er… sponges…” she sat on the sofa and tugged on a sneaker. The child looked through the bag and pulled out a pack of dry sponges, waving them around. Nadia pulled on the other shoe. “And do we have the water bottles?” Kendrew nodded, his hair fluttering everywhere. “How many? We need at least three.”

“…seven,” Kendrew said, completely confident in his answer. Nadia looked at Kendrew, slightly confused. Deftly, she got to her feet and moved to the table where the bag sat.

“Honey, how old are you?” she asked Kendrew, her voice soft.

“Five!” he answered, beaming.

“Can you hold up that many fingers for me?” He held up his small, paint-tinged hand, and giggled, all five of his fingers raised. “All right, now are you holding up more or less than this,” she said, holding up three fingers.

“More…” he said, his giggles stopping, a now curious expression plastering his face. She nodded.

“More, good. I’m holding up three of my fingers honey, that’s how many water bottles we have in the bag.” Nadia picked the boy up from the chair he was standing on and she set him on the table, ‘oofing’ softly. She pointed to the first bottle. “One,” she said, smiling at Kendrew.

“One!” he repeated, smiling again. She pointed to the second bottle, and looked at him, half-expectantly.

“T…two!” he called out. She nodded.

“And this one?” she asked, pointing to the third and final bottle.

“Three!” Nadia smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Mk, we have the sponges. We have the water.” She shifted through the bag. “Plastic bags,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “Marbles, a dark blanket, duct tape, play dough, super glue, water pistols…..” Nadia turned to Kendrew. “What else?”

“Pictures of Moris!”

Nadia laughed; Oh, her husband was going to hate her for this. “Right!” she said, picking up a folder and slipping it into the duffel bag. She zipped up the bag, slipped the strap over her shoulder and took one last look around the room. “Anything else?” she asked the little boy.

He shook his head. “Nope!” he said, jumping from the table top onto the chair, then from the chair to the floor, his Batman light-up shoes doing their neon light dance with each hop. She took his hand.

“Ok then, let’s go. And remember -- we’ve gotta be sneaky!”

A Letter to Mr. Grey.

2007-07-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

Zillah Grey,

You ~~fucking~~ bastard, how could you kill my ~~god damn fucking~~ Cheshire cat?! He never did anything to you, EVER. You told me that you didn't do it. You did! You looked me in the eye and you said that you didn't kill him and that you hadn't seen him.

Then, today, I get a letter in the mail from your ~~fucking~~ whore house. Damn it, Zillah, you killed the Cheshire and Ameera saw you do it!

YOU KILLED MY CAT.

I should kick you and set you on fire and OTHER BAD, NOT GOOD AT ALL STUFF. I'd do it too! You'd regret killing my cat!

YOU WOULD!

Just wait until I get back home!

-Nadia Ravenswick

Cheshire.

2007-07-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

Nadia opened the door quickly, a towel drying her already messy hair. "Yes?" she said, smiling at the bellhop. She opened the door a bit wider. "Er, sir? Can I help you with something?" The bellhop quickly shook his head and coughed.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Mrs. Ravenswick," he said quickly. "It's not often that a guest opens the door, wrapped in a towel." The bellhop, whose name-tag read 'Tony', held out an envelope which was addressed to Nadia. "This just arrived for you earlier today. The mail carrier said it was rather important."

"Oh, er, alright," Nadia said, her brow furrowed slightly as she took the envelope. "Thanks." She nudged the door shut with her foot, not really noticing that the young man was watching her as she walked away. As the door clicked shut, Nadia dropped the towel she'd been drying her hair with to the floor, next to a pile of dirty children's clothes.

"From La Maison Rouge de Desire..." she muttered, reading the address before she tore open the seal. "What the hell?" She pulled out the contained letter. "Why would they be sending me mai-...." Nadia had drawn a second sheet of paper from the envelope.

"A purple and pink blob?" she said to herself, staring at the second paper. "With whiskers... and an eye... and pointed ears..." She blinked a few times, her head tilting a bit to the side as she studied the paper.

"It's a Cheshire cat."

"What's a Cheshire cat?" A voice said from behind her. It was accompanied by two childish giggles.

"Cheshire, Cheshire, Cheshire!" said a little boy's voice, slurring somewhat on the 'ch' and 'sh' sounds due to his lack of proper speech lessons and his excitement, causing it to really just sound like "chesher, chesher, chesher."

"This drawing that I receive from la Maison Rouge de Desire," Nadia said to Moris, handing him the envelope and drawing as she unfolded the contained letter.

"Dear Mistress Nadia," she read. "Miss Ameera Grey, the princess in her own right, just as any other young girl, has drawn the enclosed image for you. Only after much yelling and screaming on her part (and mine, however, we won't tell Vidar as much), was it realized that it was for you. After all, Ameera still only says a few select... sounds." Nadia glanced at her husband, a peculiar expression on her face before continuing.

"Anyway, this letter is getting off track. As Miss Grey is still very young and still very incapable of performing simple tasks, such as writing a letter, I've been "instructed" to do so."

"After asking a few witnesses around the London area, this drawing is supposed to show Ameera's wish for you to buy her a Cheshire cat. It seems Mr. Grey was seen a few days prior with a lighter near a purple and pink feline. Since Ameera is currently lacking a cat, I will assume that Mr. Grey won his battle." Nadia stared at the paper, her mouth gaping.

"Love?"

"He... my... my Cheshire..." Nadia whimpered as she dropped the letter. "I knew he was missing, but... Z said... no." She looked at Moris, her eyes brimming with tears, a few even treking down her cheeks. "He killed my Cheshire."

Dinner.

2007-07-17T20:00:00.000-07:00

"Thanks for telling me the children arrived." It's not like every marriage is perfect. Each couple has their ups, their downs, their lulls. However, for Moris and Nadia Ravenswick, things just kept going downhill. Especially since Nadia seemed to be ignorant of every mishap... except those that involved Moris.

"What exactly was I supposed to do, Nadia?" Moris asked, his voice quiet as to not draw attention. "Stand by and let that cretin have his way with you in his mind?"

"You should have composed yourself, Moris," Nadia retorted, skimming over her menu. She'd been quick to find a nanny for Kendrew and Kerensa. She'd meant it when she said she wanted a few weeks alone with her husband! "I think that a year ago you wouldn't have acted out like that. You're getting out of hand."

Moris stared at his wife, his gaze a poor attempt at neutrality as he tried to control annoyance, frustration, and maybe even a hint of disbelief. Nadia returned his stare with a glare of her own. Moris broke the silence. "Waiter?" he called. A tall, middle-age man appeared almost instantly.

"Yes, Mr. Ravenswick?"

"We'd like two raspberry martinis and a bit of Russian honey," Moris said, not breaking his eye contact with his wife as the waiter jotted down the request.

"I'll return with these right away."

Nadia watched the waiter as he walked towards the kitchen, her gaze shifting to her husband when he disappeared from sight. "A bit of Russian honey?" she asked, her perfect black eyebrow cocked just so.

"Yes," he said, setting a menu off to the side of the table. "I'm quite sure you'll like it."

The couple sat in silence, picking at their salads and sipping their drinks when the waiter returned with such items. It was awkward for both of them, really. While they were at home, they were incredibly different. She would lighten his spirits and he would make her feel like she was worth something. Since they made their temporary move to the mountains, however, things had changed. Maybe it was just the thin mountain air.

"So," Nadia said when she was about halfway done with her salad. "What did he say that upset you that much?" Moris said nothing as he picked a bit of tangerine off of his salad. She set her fork down on her napkin. "Moris?"

Moris Ravenswick was a decent man. He was more than a decent man. He was a well-bred gentleman: One of the very best the world has to offer! So it hurt him to repeat what he had heard the beach-blond say about his wife.

"...Wouldn't mind learning what all she can do with her hips."

Nadia blinked. "What?" she asked as she took a sip from her drink.

"That's... that's what he said, love." Moris picked at his salad some more, his eyes never leaving his plate. This was all horribly unusual for him. It's almost as if he were ashamed to repeat it.

Nadia shifted uncomfortably. "Oh," she said quietly before taking another (this one somewhat longer) sip from the hurricane glass. "Love?" Moris looked up at his wife, one perfectly-shaped platinum brow raised. "Did ya... did you hurt him good?"

"There was blood," Moris said with a slightly creased brow. He sat up straight and slowly set his salad fork on his cloth napkin. "So I believe I did." Nadia smiled at him over her drink. "Yes," he said, this time with more confidence. "I 'hurt him good' as you so charmingly put it, love."

"Good," she said, sucking the last bit of drink from the glass through a brightly coloured straw. Moris was smirking now, incredibly proud of what he'd done and his wife offered him a curious grin before she returned to her salad, popping a cherry tomato in her mouth.

2007-07-12T20:54:00.001-07:00

"That was really good, Nadia." She smiled at her instructor -- Jonathan -- and sat down on the bench next to him. He was a very handsome man. Tanned with dirty blond hair, looking like he prefers to take his vacations at the sea shore. His hazel eyes sparkled in the most peculiar way as he looked at Nadia Ravenswick, and his smile was far from innocent.

"Thanks," she said as she looked at her black and cyan boots, a blush creeping across her face. "I won't lie. I feel really embarrassed from all of that falling."

"There's no need to feel that way, Nadia," Jonathan chuckled, his smile turning to more of a smirk. "You did great for that being your first time."

Nadia smiled at him, her hair tousled and full of snow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He rested his hand on Nadia's forearm, his thumb rubbing lightly. Not that she could feel it through her white jacket, but all the same -- a rather intimate action. Too intimate for a hired instructor, definitely.

"Thanks, Jonathan," she said, smiling again. Picking up her skis, Nadia stood up and stretched. "I'll see you tomorrow at three then?" He nodded. "Oh, good, I can't wait!"

"Neither can I, Nadia," he chuckled again, his eyes slowly looking over her body. Either she hadn't noticed or she doesn't mind the attention, Jonathan had decided. "It's not very often that I'm working with someone that doesn't get too flustered when they don't get it right off the bat."

Nadia giggled and waved goodbye. "See you later!"

He watched as she walked away. "Mmh," he said quietly as he got to his feet, his voice almost a growl. "Wouldn't mind learning what all she can do with her hips." He leered a bit longer, his thoughts wandering into not-so-innocent territory. Suddenly two small bundles of coats pounces on Nadia's legs. Jonathan blinked, his smirk faltering a bit.

"Yes, she's a mother," a voice said from behind him, sounding dangerously quiet. He quickly turned around and found himself face to face with a rather angry-looking pale man. "She's also a wife. My wife, actually." Moris Ravenswick grabbed the man's jacket and pulled him so they were nose-to-nose. "And from now on I'll be the one teaching her how to ski. Is that understood?" Jonathan nodded, hazel eyes reflecting fear and confusion.

"Good," Moris hissed, releasing his wife's ex-skiing instructor. Jonathan tugged at his jacket and shakily ran a hand through his hair. "And now I have one more thing to discuss with you," Moris said as he set his silver cane on the bench.

"Oh yeah?" Jonathan grumbled, a batch of courage surfacing that seemed to suddenly find its way out of the depths of his pathetic mind. "What's that?"

Now, the human skin is rather durable. It needs to be, considering how it protects the body -- organs, veins, muscles -- from outside forces. However, it is also incredibly sensitive to sharp objects. Most things on a living organism are. So when Moris' fist collided with Jonathan's teeth, it's not a large surprise that the skin on Moris' knuckles was split open (not to mention how there was a horrible crunch from both mens' bodies). This created a nice smear of red, not just on Moris' hand, but across Jonathan's mouth.

The instructor stumbled, clutching his mouth and jaw as blood dripped down his chin. Moris wasn't watching him though, he was instead staring at his hand. The knuckles were already fixing themselves, the skin growing quickly. He flexed his hand and picked up his cane, hitting Jonathan across the lower back with it before he turned away, ignoring the angry yells as people rushed to Jonathan's aid.

Arrival.

2007-07-01T15:25:00.001-07:00

Moris threw himself on the bed, groaning in delight as he sunk into the soft cushions. "Oh, I like this," he mumbled against one of the pillows.

"Well, that's too bad, I suppose," Nadia said, unpacking the bubblegum-pink duffel bag. Moris rolled onto his side and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You're sleeping on the couch, remember?"

He sat up, still staring at his wife. "Nadia, love, surely you don't mean that..."

"I do, Moris." She tucked a nightshirt in the top most dresser drawer. "You might as well move to the couch right now." By this time Moris Ravenswick was on his feet, standing directly behind his wife. He touched his fingertips to her shoulders and massaged gently.

"Love, you really don't mean that..." he whispered in her ear, his hands...well, doing their own thing.

Nadia didn't seem the least bit phased. "I do, Moris."

He (and his hands) persisted. "Surely there's something I can do to make amends."

"No," she said, moving away from the dresser (and Moris' touch). "I don't think there is." Nadia took the last outfit from that particular duffel bag (it seemed to be a blob of white, cyan, and navy) and tossed it onto the bed. "And if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for a skiing lesson."

"Love, we just arrived," Moris said, glancing at the clock. "It's only noon!"

"You're right, it is," she said as she went around gathering items she'd need for her shower. "And my lesson starts at one, then I have a massage scheduled for two-thirty--"

"Fine," Moris interjected, looking somewhat offended. " Though, you will find no better hands for a massage than mine, and you know it."

"--a non-impromptu massage that doesn't take place in a psychic's shop." Nadia nudged Moris out of her way, grabbing a rather large towel from the bottom dresser drawer. "After that's done, I have to come back and shower because we have dinner at six."

Moris sat down on the bed, staring at his wife. "What, exactly, am I supposed to do with my time, love?"

"Hell if I know, Moris," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Find something." Nadia picked up the last necessity -- a hairbrush -- before walking to the bathroom door.

"Nadia," Moris called out. "This is a vacation. You're supposed to relax."

She whirled around to look at her husband. "Moris, I've never done this before!" she said, her shoulders slouching in slight disappointment. "I'm excited. Let me be excited. Please...just... just let me."

"Nadia, I'm not trying to stop you," Moris said, standing and moving towards Nadia. "You're just overdoing it, I think. We're going to be here forev--" Nadia turned away and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. "Forever."