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cottoncandyforbunnies · 3 years

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Bok the Carrier

foreword : this is new, 2020. I got it from a writing prompt online. Family legacies or lineage. I’m fond of this one. There was a time limit in submitting and I did get to submit it but I think i under-described the stuff in the story because of it. i’m also bad at names.

Thrum shouldered the Capricorn galaxy. Syl and Myr, partners who were fused under a red star, jointly shouldered the Pandora galaxy. Even Min, the smallest, shouldered the cotton galaxy. We are Carriers, and we hold heavenly bodies against the continuously pulling mantle of the universe.

There is a certain pride in doing your task well and none is more proud than Bok. Bok carries the heaviest galaxy, the Milky Way. It holds millions and millions of heavenly bodies. It is known for the bright creamy white swirl in its center.

Everything within the universe is painful to bear. It is always moving and changing. To carry a heavenly body is to constantly balance its weight under your arms and maintain your strength.

The galaxies we carry are also growing, albeit at an extremely slow pace. Except the Milky Way. It is an oddity. Compared to other galaxies, it has continuously grown at an exponential rate. More so ever since Bok has carried it.

No one knows why. No one asks. It is not theirs to bear. You keep your million hands on your own task and Bok, along with all of his ancestors, has kept theirs on the Milky Way.

Stories take an extremely long time to travel and be heard around the universe. And yet, every corner has heard of Milky Way’s size and those who carry it.

Bok will carry it until the new millenia and will pass it down to me, his son, Sol.

I remember my birth alongside all the next generation Carriers. A million hands grasping on light to feed on. A million hands of mine holding Bok. Wherever, whenever, and whatever I did, he had a million hands to guide me.

He told me of all who came before us. My great-great-great-great-great-(to infinite)-parents, their pride, their strength, and their struggle in shouldering the ever-growing Milky Way. I spent every moment asking questions and he spent every moment answering.

He taught me how to properly stoke stars, how to throw a comet, how to spin a nebula. He caught my fall on a black hole and discreetly helped me carry a red sun. He was proud of the first comet I made and had it pinned on the Milky Way.

He consoled me when I didn’t pass as a World Weaver.

Every millenia, before the Transfer of Burden, the Council has Runners go around the universe looking for World Weavers. Beings that are given the right to place their creations on the mantle of the universe. Creations to be looked upon, marveled at, and carried.

You can either be a World Weaver through birthright or through passing a test. The children of World Weavers have their ancestry to prove their potential. You are made of the same fabric, and thus, the millions of creations your ancestors have made tells of how capable you are.

They are lucky. Everyone else has to prove their worth in front of the Runners.

Everyone of us is capable of creating something small, like comets or asteroids. However, only a select few are able to create planets, constellations, and solar systems. If you fail the test then you are not meant to be one. So you continue what those before you did, which in my case, is carry.

Bok was always supportive of my creations. He took time to help me make asteroid, planet rings, and even meteor showers. He critiqued, assisted, and even gave me unlikely tips. World building tips you wouldn’t expect from a carrier. Unlike other carriers who only focused on their task, Bok gave me free rein to discover both creation and carrying on my own.

I loved every second it took creating. When the Runners came looking, I was there, ready to become a World Weaver.

The test was making a planet. I have never made a planet before but I was confident. I swirled, and grabbed, and pressed, and crushed, and molded with all my strength and million hands. I could envision it but I struggled to make it grow.

I swirled, and grabbed, and pressed, and crushed, and molded with all my strength and million hands but it didn’t grow any further. My time was up and I was left with a dwarf planet. I, along with all those who tried, have failed.

“We see no potential here.” the Runners said and swiftly left to look at the other sides of the universe.

I was left in despair. For the first few centuries, I kept my million hands to myself. Bok was worried but patient. He urged me to open up, whispered soothing words, and held my million hands. He pointed at all I created, scattered on the Milky Way, and told me, “You are a World Weaver.”

But I was not, and it took a long while for me to come to terms with it. He retold stories of our ancestors and their struggles shouldering the ever-growing Milky Way. How troublesome it was. How proud they were to carry it.

Slowly, I released my million hands around me. I grasped at the Milky Way. It is a proud thing to carry. I will be proud to carry it.

Time continued to run. I grew stronger, able to carry a moon, a sun, a solar system. I started training on the smaller galaxies and soon after, the Milky Way. The immense strength it took. The strain it put on my million hands. The pride of being able to carry it.

The Transfer of Burden is near. I continued to create comets, asteroids, and moons. I was also successful in creating planets, something I was not allowed to do. I kept it hidden, but it always vanishes after some time.

I did fail the test, my planets just couldn’t rotate on their own. I am not a World Weaver.

I am a Carrier, the same as those before me. I will carry the Milky Way. Sol would be an addendum to it’s story. Every corner of the galaxy will hear of me. The task I am about to take and the fame it will carry brings me pride.

The galaxies are agitated and distorting. There is tension on the mantle of the universe. The Carriers are struggling to keep galaxies in place. It is time for the Transfer of Burden.

Everyone is excited. I am, too. But the few years leading up to this, I was surrounded by solar storms and aurora tears. I created a few more meteors, a few more moons, a few more planets. A farewell to my dream.

Today, I will start my task as a Carrier and with it comes all my tomorrows.

Thrum passes down the Capricorn galaxy to Tam. She accepts and grabs it with her million hands.

Syl and Myr passes down the Pandora Galaxy to Hubb. He embraces and lifts it with his million hands.

Min passes down the Cotton Galaxy to Pica. He grips its edges and slings it to his back with his million hands.

The Milky Way is not agitated or distorted. Bok is firm and steady. He shows no sign of faltering even after a millennia.

I am a Carrier, I tell myself. My million hands will carry the Milky Way. I reach out to receive it.

Bok reaches inside the Milky Way and hands me a couple hundred planets.

“I kept these for you.” he says. I was confused.

They were my planets. My million hands were overflowing holding them, making them. I swirled, and grabbed, and pressed, and crushed, and molded it with all my strength. If only reality didn’t sour it so quickly.

These would not be permitted to take space in the mantle of the universe. I was content knowing they vanished. I am not a World Weaver.

I cannot create worlds while carrying the Milky Way. Bok stood firm and gargantuan in front of me.

“I don’t have potential. I am not a World Weaver. I am a Carrier.” I tell him, as I reach out my million hands to receive the Milky Way.

“I am a Carrier.” Bok says, and no one doubted it. He is a legend among all Carries.

He reaches inside the Milky way and hands me thousands of solar systems. “This is Maia’s, who failed the test. She carried the Milky Way before me.”

He reaches again and hands me thousands of solar systems. “This is Kayn’s, who failed the test. He carried the Milky Way before me.”

He hands me another thousands of solar systems. “These are Bema’s, who failed the test. She carried the Milky Way before me.”

He passes me a few thousands more and stopped. He reaches deep within the Milky Way with his million hands. A birthright, I hoped, but this is not enough. World Weavers need a million planets to have potential, creation worth a million years, and these are hardly a hundred thousand.

I appreciated the effort. I understood that creation does not stop for a Carrier.

Bok heaves his million hands and, with a struggle, hands me a million solar systems.

The atmosphere gasped, galaxies stirred, and the mantle of the universe remains taut with silence. The Milky Way was still unimaginably big yet noticeably smaller and dimmer. I held a million bright planets, whole solar systems on my million hands. My birthright. I can create heavenly bodies. I could be a World Weaver. I can -

“But the Milky Way.” I murmured.

He gestures towards the million solar systems he gave me.

“These are Bok’s, who failed the test. He carries the Milky Way and will continue to do so for the next Millenia.” He tells it loud and firm for everyone to hear.

He stands tall and proud.

No one speaks, no one objects.

The Milky Way is not theirs to bear.

Then he faces me and says, “This is your potential, Sol. You are a World Weaver.”

The Runners hear and they come from the different corners of the universe. They murmur among themselves. They look at Bok and cannot object.

They gather all the planets I held and placed it back in the Milky Way. Bok does not flinch or falter. He holds me one last time with only a hundred hands.

The Runners take me away to become a World Weaver.

I am Sol. I am a World Weaver. I have made stars, solar systems, and bright galaxies. I carefully place all my creations on the mantle of the universe. They are looked upon, marveled at, and carried.

I am a World Weaver by birthright. And so are those who have come before me. Maia, Kayn, Bema -

-and Bok, who continues to carry the Milky Way.

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cottoncandyforbunnies · 3 years

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Atlantis; A call for tomorrow

foreword : google docs says this was 2017. Typical Atlantis story. I had a better backbone for this, i don’t know why i went with this scenario. This feels like one of those burner stories. Where you have an idea and write it down in one sitting. google docs says the last edit was 2017 too. Im touching it now to be a little cleaner.

I didn't know why i was going back home. It has been years since i've went back.. 6 years back when my father died and another 4 years when he was followed by mum. After those two, i never really had a reason to go back. I lived in the city already, everyone i knew did. The province seemed too far, too inconvenient. The drive seemed too taxing. The destination a hovering look into the past, only now without my parents it had nothing to anchor to. My own memories only a reminder of who i spent it with. I would not have had a reason to go back. This, if anything, was not something I would have done. But i woke up one day and found myself packing a bag of clothes and necessities, starting my car, and heading to where i only know ended to where home was.

It was a dark morning, heavy clouds covered the whole sky painting everything on the road ahead and what resides beside it the shade of gray. The radio hummed tunes and news about the weather. The ride, I remember, used to be long or maybe it was my perception of time as a child that seemed long. Confined within the backseat of a car, looking at the fields and trees i felt so free to run around at turn into walls and busy people. The city to me before was a labyrinth, nothing but corners leading you only closer to its center, never away from it. And so the ride i didn’t enjoy much, as it felt like home was being taken away slowly. Now 25 years old and working on an 8am-6pm shift job, time seems to forever stay in that trudging trickle of a pace. The ride, however, didn't. The vast similar walls of skyscrapers, food stalls, bustling people, and open window stores soon began to fade and, by and by, be replaced by open fields with sparse small houses or convenience stores (all still painted gray for the weather report on the radio tells of a typhoon coming). It was shortly after that i see the seaside, so close as though I could hear its waves already. Shorter still, that I find myself in front of our house.

It looked the same as it always did. Only smaller, the memories that remind me of the place calls forth how far it took me to run around it or how my parents needed to shout in order for me to hear them outside. It seemed old too, dusty, every step i took made creaks on the wooden steps leading up to the door. The door seemed smaller too. I avoid looking at whatever is left around the house and head straight to my room. I drop my items and change to my shorts and a t-shirt. I look for a pair of slippers inside my closet. I still hear the sea. The air smelled of seawater. If i started this narrative not knowing what i hoped to come back to, now i do. I found the pair of slippers and head to the beach.

My mother loved the beach, this is why dad bought the house. Even if it was somewhat far from where he worked, he always told me that seeing my mother happy made the trip worth going home to. My earliest memories were made here. Making sand castles, burying mum in the sand, having dad dust off the sand from my hair. We used to stroll here every morning. Mum would hold my hand bringing me to the shore and pointed at objects she sees, usually seagulls and ships. Here was where i learned how to swim. I used to be afraid of the water (i was mostly fond of the sand as a child) and would not go wading into it. I would run from the waves. I would only be in the water if carried by my mother or father. The sea was frightening. The waves, as a child, i found loud as they crashed to the sand. Now more so, for the sun has sunk and the moonlight glazed over the dark waters. I didn't know how far i've walked. I didn't know what time it was either, only that the moon is up on the sky. I didn't seem to mind.

I almost drowned when i was a child, or i thought i did. My parents were only smiling when they pulled me back to the sand telling me i had nothing to fear. I told them the waves were pulling me. Mother told me the sea doesn't pull, it only pushes you back to the shore. I didn't believe her at first but after learning to swim, the waves did always push me back ashore.

I wanted to feel the waves on my feet. It seemed to be calling. The sea looked frightening still, the waves a glinting black swaying to and fro. The saltwater lapped at my feet. I stood there at awe. The moon standing still on the sky. A couple of stars beside it and below the obsidian sea. The saltwater was cold and it harshly tugged at my feet. I keep in mind what my mother said. The sea does otherwise, it seemed to pull harder. I start to head back to shore only to feel hands grasp my feet making me fall face forward. I take a lungful of air as they pull me back deeper to the waters.

At first i thought i only imagined the hands, that it was just a strong current that pulled me but i felt hands firmly grasping my ankles and all i could muster was to grasp and claw at the sand hoping to hold on to a rock or a coral i could use to hold myself to. They pull me deeper and after a few more times of trying to find something to hold on to, i let go. They continued to drag me deeper to the sea. I told myself i was going to die, that i was going to drown. That i was going to float as a body somewhere bloated and unrecognizable.

I didn't know how long i've been pulled already. I also don't know when the pain in my chest faded or how long I have not been breathing. I didn't seem to need to anymore. I open my eyes expecting the sting of saltwater but i didn't feel any. Instead, i see the moon on top of me. It looked far, very far. We must've been very deep already. I look around and see that the sea is nothing but black on all sides. I see nothing but darkness. I look to my feet and see two persons. They looked human, i couldn't see their faces. They had arms and legs. Webbed feet. Their skin looked like how a frog's would underwater. They were naked and i could see their buttocks. They were like human eels. They didn't seem to mind me, just continued on to dragging me deeper.

My only measure of time or distance as i go deeper is the moon's size. It is no bigger than a dot now. I passed by a couple school of fishes and a whale. They seemed far too for they looked small on top of me. The sea is vast, but never did it cross me how much so until iv'e been dragged for so long already. Another hour or so past by (i think?) and, finally, i see the sea bed beneath me.

The sea floor was breathtaking (if not for the fact that i am already breathless). The sand beneath was black, like soot. It covered the alleyways and streets. It was a city, a crumbled one. The houses and buildings cracked. The roads empty. The statues and (what seemed to be) lamplights eroded. Even in it's time ridden shape, the city looked prominent. A shadow of the glorious civilization it used to house. Beneath here in the sea, it looked encapsulated. Frozen in a state of almost not existing, a reminder that it used to.

But more so, was that it was illuminated by light. Every wall, every statue, every street and lamplight was covered by what looked to be bioluminiscent algae? Moss?. It covered the city with a dim light. Enough to leave darkness inside the empty windows. Enough to leave your eyes straining to see the intricate designs the houses had. But also, enough for you to see that it was a beautiful city.

They dragged me to a street leading to what i think was the plaza. A fountain was in the middle of it and it was large and circular. There was a 10-12ft statue of Neptune holding his trident in the middle of it, covered in glowing algae. It looked alive. Behind it, having 1/4 of the circumference of the plaza, were very wide steps which lead up to the castle or home of whoever ruled or owned this magnificent city. I assumed it led up to such, for the stairs length leads up to a position where a castle would sit, in front of the large plaza surrounded by the city. Only i see nothing but darkness at the end of it. They stopped dragging me and let me stand (or float for the water carried me and my feet would only briefly touch the ground to push me forward when i walk ). They held my hands and guided me towards the end of the stairs.

The city was not so empty after all. Looking around, i saw several people (or eel men, i feel it is rude to call them such) hiding behind buildings, swimming from a corner to another, or within the windows their black eyes reflecting the light from the algaes. There were some floating around 10 paces behind me following us to the top.

There was no castle. There was, however, remnants of it. Two large pillars were at my left and right and the floor here was elevated and made of polished marble. What used to be a castle is now a cliff. The castle could've fallen below it. I do not know, but it is certainly big enough for a castle to fall into it. An abyss of darkness with a depth I can no longer imagine. I felt fear for i thought they would drag me deeper still into it. I see no other land ahead, how wide and how far this abyss is is shrouded by the water's darkness.

They left me alone at the edge of the cliff. I did not know what to do. They ran (swam fast?) away from me back into the city. I was left waiting for something i do not know of. The thoughts running through my head was if i really was here, or if i was asleep, or if this is where those who die at sea would end up to. Will i turn to something like them? I looked back to the abyss and thought how many people must be below if this is indeed where they end up in.

" Those taken by the sea do not end up here. "

I hear a voice then. Only it wasn't a voice for it did not reach my ears. The ground began to shake and black sand scattered while the ground seemed to vibrate. The shaking seemed to be coming from below. I looked down and saw nothing but darkness but i knew that something was there and that it was climbing up. I hear loud thuds that shake the ground as though whatever it is is grasping the cliff to get up.

I shouldve ran. I wouldve ran but i didnt. I stood there waiting knowing that this was the reason i was dragged down here from the sea. That this was the reason i felt the urge to go home. It was coming closer, and only now hearing how loud and seeing how strong the ground shook have i realized just how far it was awhile ago. The city seemed to be moving in inches everytime the ground shaked. I looked down and still saw nothing but darkness. To my far left, a black skyscraper grabbed the ridge. I soon realized it was a very large tentacle. Another one went up and grabbed the ridge at my right. More thuds followed, seeming to grab a different part of the cliff, but i am unable to see where it is anymore. The tentacles strained then to pull up a humongous oblong body that emerged from the deep abyss infront of me. I do not know how big it was, imagine standing on the shore of the ocean and straining to see the end of each side, the size of it i can only estimate by how far i can see. It had large human-like eyes. It had eyelids and a thick brush for the lashes. I counted four from where i stood but i imagine it had more around the expanse of its body. If it had a mouth i could not see it. Its skin was covered by the algae too, and this one i knew was alive. It opened its eyes, and looked around until it saw me. The other eyes closed and only the one infront of me was open now. It glowed dimly. Its iris focused intently on me.

" Greetings, son of Apollo. "

I stood there confused. I haven't opened my mouth for fear of drowning. I only realized it now when i tried to speak that i was firmly keeping my mouth closed. But it (he? or she? does it even have a gender? does it even need one?) was wrong, and i felt like i needed to tell the truth.

" My father's name was Fred. " I said.

It, too, was confused then. I didnt know how i knew. It didn't have facial expressions. Ofcourse it didn't, it didn't have a face. But i knew that it was confused and that after the confusion it laughed (which here was another hard thing to explain for i didn't exactly hear it laughing but more of what it did if it found something humorous, which again, i just seemed to know). It looked at me happily after, seeming to mock my existence, or what little and insignificant it was compared to its kind.

" All prophets are sons and daughters of Apollo. But if it makes you feel any better you are a son of Fred too. Have you met the others? "

I said i haven't. It seemed surprised then, thinking deeply after.

" Nevermind, I always thought I'd go up last. It seemed fitting for the people of the waters to come up last. Do you know why you're here? "

I said I didn't.

" Well seeing that you’re the son of Apollo, i'm sure you're here to either get or give news. Seeing that you’re not the latter, it must be time for us to go back up then. For you to tell the people above that Atlantis is rising. It must be, the last prophet told me that if ever another comes not knowing anything, it would be to spread news of the coming of the end. Incredulous Apollo! Can't even give and receive news properly. This is why i favored Neptune. Great guy. Appreciated the sea far more than what was above. I mean who wouldn't? The land is small to house us. I don't even know why some of us tried to. "

It continued to tell more about why the sea was better. I didn't want to interrupt so i listened intently even if my mind seemed to wander how a city would rise. It seemed fitting to ask.

" How would the city rise? " i asked. It stopped it's bickering and laughed again.

" Stupid boy. This city is in ruins. There would be no need for it to rise. I told Neptune to leave it at land for a city is not fit to house people of the sea. You see, the sea is always meant to be open. Never confined within building walls or roofs. Said he favored it though, dragged a couple million of land people to their deaths bringing it down. Neptune built his kingdom here afterwards. The sea people grew to love it after awhile. It flourished for a few short centuries. Didn't last long though, the war broke up afterwards and now this has been left standing here for a hundred or more centuries. I lost count. You live as long as me and a hundred years feels like the time you spent getting here."

" It's not the city itself that would rise boy. It's the people. "

It looked up and seemed to reminisce. Remembering what it was like before. I could only imagine.

" The sun is almost up. I'm afraid i cannot keep you here any longer. I need you to tell of us. To tell of our coming. "

I looked up to see if the evening was indeed over. I couldn't see the sun, but the sky seemed less darker. It looked at me one last time, then descended back to the abyss. I had so many questions left to ask. On what he meant that the end is coming. On who he was (although there is this thought behind the back of my head that thinks i know its name, but found it unbelievable.) I tried to call it back but there was a stabbing pain on my chest suddenly. My lungs felt like they would burst. I felt the painful need to breath. I opened my mouth. I felt the water filling my lungs and my vision clouding. I struggled to keep myself from gulping down more seawater, but i couldn't. I felt it stinging my eyes. My stomach was full of it. The last image i saw was of the two eel people who dragged me down approaching me. Then a final look at the bioluminescent city and everything went black.

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cottoncandyforbunnies · 3 years

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Vincent

foreword : google docs says created 2018. Reading it now, it feels like i’ve over described people and the conversations are a bit awkward. I remember where i wanted this story to head. Might continue, but probably not as I have clearer storylines to follow.

I stumbled on the usual elevated rock that I always fail to see on the cobbled sidewalk. It is raining hard because of a storm coming. I am glad that the usual busy pier is now only a handful of people scurrying to find shelter from the downpour. Only two or three sees me struggling to stand from my fall, soaking the shirt and pants i tried desperately to keep dry with my long coat.

It took another corner walk before i came infront of the Digger bar. It used to have a sign with a griffon standing on its hind legs with DIGGER lettered gold underneath. Now it only has a large letter D. It was bigger these days, a taller building. I personally liked the way it was before, a shabby cabin with a window by the wooden door always slightly ajar. The inside of it brimming with light, noise and, occasionally, music. Today it has large glass doors and a lobby with reception. I hurry inside.

" How is it that you look younger every time you visit Vincent? " said a big brute man, wearing a pinstripe suit of darkest blue. His voice is jolly and deep and goes incredibly well with his blue eyes and santa beard. He's flashing a huge grin and I can't help my mouth from curving upwards along with his. " It's only how i dress Bask. You, old friend, i have missed. I do not know where to begin, or if any of it i can reason as an apology for the time I was gone. " I open my arms to him and he hugs me in return. He pats my back twice and looks me in the eye. " You can visit anytime you wish, Vincent. You cannot waste the time you have given me. " He takes off my coat and frowns at the clothes soaked within. " You are too kind. " I said, as he tries to straighten my top to look presentable, unsuccessfully. " I may be kind to you, but her-" he pauses, looks down at me questioningly and sighs " who you have kept waiting for an hour will not act as friendly I presume. God, you even look like a mess! " he frowns and signals me to follow him. We walk towards a high-ceiling hallway lined with paintings. Portraits of friends we've had mostly. I stop at mine and wonder if i would've smiled as happily if i knew what i knew now. Beside mine was hers, she looked serious. Her mouth in a line and her eyes looking at you telling that she knows. She sat postured well and intent on facing whatever it was she had to look at when it was taken. Her hair was dark, her skin a light hazel. Although it seemed she knew or that she kept this air of invincibility, she wept the most for us and, as Bask has said (which has never left my thoughts), depended so much on me.

We stop in front of a black door. It was plain smooth wood with only a golden lettered D similar to the one in front of the building. I can hear the chattering of people inside. I straighten my shirt absentmindedly.

The lounge was spacious and the bar, a glistening dark red wood counter backed by glass shelves with various liquors displayed, sat on the right of the room. It had square glass tables and red leather chairs on the middle. The wall opposite the door and on my left is made of glass, lined with 4 seater booths with black leather couches. A couple of strangers sit in the middle and on the left, in one of the booths, sat Lyra wearing a glittering black dress with a cigarette in one hand.

The rain remains pouring. I sat opposite to her and she remained gazing outside ignoring my presence, her head resting on the palm of one hand as her elbow rests on the table. I scrunch my nose as she blows the smoke from her mouth. She kept her hair in a bun on top and her lips the color of cherry red. There was a time i would’ve tried to kiss her, there was a long span of time that we used to. There was a time that i would’ve asked for forgiveness, a time when i tried to reason and correct what i did wrong. But that was then, today we are but acquaintances. I yearn for her sometimes, it comes as jarring red streaks of pain and rage or moments of yellow dresses and hazel skin spent underneath summerside beaches.

“ Will we always act like strangers? “ she asks, taking another puff and flicking the ashes to the porcelain ashtray. She has not looked at me yet.

I tense and slowly exhale the breath I didn’t notice I was holding. “ I don’t know. That’s a question for you to answer, not me. “

She scoffs and puts out her cigarette with a frown. “ No. “

“Then this -” I grasp for a word, relationship? No. “- arrangement remains.” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “ Of course you want this to remain. Vague. Pretending that no questions need answers. I don’t know why I still find this painful. You are shallow, Vincent. You only needed me and maybe for awhile I needed you too. The universe seemed like a scary place to live alone in. We had each other and when we finished doing that- “ she pauses, grasping for words to describe what exactly it was.

“ Miracle. “ I suggest.

Her eyes flare for a moment, I felt guilt. We seemed to be unable to avoid discussing it everytime we met. But then again, it is the reason we have to meet. She takes a sip of a tall pink drink i didn’t notice the server bringing. Beside me was scotch on ice.

She slouches back and sighs, “ Léon is missing. You and I are the only ones left. “

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