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Similar Deviations
I'm sorry for the wrongs I did,
I'm sorry for acting like a kid,
When I should show you my friend,
How sorry I truly am,
But now you pissed,
at me,
Cuz I did wrong,
to you,
I dont know,
What to do,
I'm sorry no matter what,
I'm sorry from my heart,
I'm sorry no matter what,
I'm sorry from the start,
I just hate to see,
you pissed all at me,
Cuz it hurts in my hearts core,
I'm sorry forever more....
I poem I made for black-ash-wolf trying to tell her I was sorry.
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I cant live without you
no matter what I'll never say
I'll always be here
because what my heart is telling me
is that your my bestest friend
i will never let you go..

I made some mistakes
Bad mistakes
but even with those mistakes
i cannot deny, i cannot fake
my love that i have for you
and without you..
I'd be broken apart.

I've never thought I'd meet someone like you
your different..
then others..

You're my best friend
and you will never be compared
because your so special to me
that i consider you rare
and every time I talk to you
my feeling of despair
becomes replenished.

so as this very moment i stare at your picture
I will never let you go neither say goodbye
because my love for you is so unbearable
that the love that i feel
because every single beat
represented your heart beating in mine.

I will always want to be friends
I never want you to be forgotten.

I must admit I try my best
To be a real friend
because you are so beautiful
in every single way
your, breath taking..
and you deserve so much.

but please remember..
you will never be replaced
you will never be erased
you will always be in my bestest friend
and never be disgraced
your so special to me
and you'll never be forgotten
you will never disappear
For me...
Sorry pal
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Words funnel into your ear like liquid kisses,
whispers of sweet nothings amongst its hisses,
taunting your heart with what it misses,
a bag full of tricks for the peddler of wishes

How easy it is for the Casanova of speech,
the chords of your heart well in his reach,
he plucks with ease like a well tuned harp,
this devil's silver tongue is razor-sharp

He's a supernova Casanova
coming to play your heart over and over
He's a supernova Casanova
don't let his cloak of charm fool ya'

His seductive warfare upon your heart,
a verbal army invading innocent flesh,
a victory declared from the very start,
once good and evil combine and mesh

You, a puppet on his strings, his work is done,
confidence in his voice, a tongue well strung,
each chord he strikes the more his you become,
a welcome for him, open the hearts doors flung

He's a supernova Casanova
coming to play your heart over and over
He's a supernova Casanova
don't let his cloak of charm fool ya'

Your mind a slave to his hypnotic trance,
full of seduction like an erotic lap dance,
warning signs are clear but not your vision,
locked in the confinement of his verbal prison

A refusal to hear any but his eloquent langauge,
a surrender of your heart, mind, body and soul,
his canvas to paint, his innocent flesh to ravage,
a gullible flag raising up and down on his pole

He's a supernova Casanova
coming to play your heart over and over
He's a supernova Casanova
don't let his cloak of charm fool ya'

Soon he absorbs all you have left within,
his sleek departure from you will begin,
as your sight slowly starts to become clear,
you realize he was the host of all you fear

a thief in the night with the face of cupid,
anger fills you inside as you feel so stupid,
he stole the heart with his poisoned osculation,
your thoughts a victim of viscous manipulation

He's a supernova Casanova
coming to play your heart over and over
He's a supernova Casanova
don't let his cloak of charm fool ya'
A casanova supernova is a man, who gets with a girl or woman, cheats lies and uses them, yet thinks saying a few simple words will make them stay with him. some do, until they figure it out for themself. ~Urban dictionary
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I don't want to be this way
But I am
Maybe I'll change someday
For now, all I can do is apologize
I'm sorry for the words I spoke
I'm sorry for the way I treated you
I'm sorry for all that I broke
I'm sorry for being distant
I'm sorry for the way I look
I'm sorry for the way I think
I'm sorry for how much time I took
To end this relationship
The longer I wait
The more pain it will bring
It's the way of Fate
I'm sorry
im sorry
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     "Why, I can't imagine a better time for you to have arrived in Foxwood!  Right on the cusp of our Bliss turning into Glory!  You'll get to attend the ceremony when Princess Winona transfers the administrative wand to Princess Zenobia!  It's always so exciting!"
       Larissa was having a hard time not laughing. She choked back another giggle as Bea's evidently uncontrollable fluffy foxtail once again whipped her poor husband Reggie's face.  Such was the matronly fox wife's excitement in describing upcoming events for Foxwood's young "visitor."  Reggie just kept swatting Bea's wayward tail away from his nose, but said nothing of the annoyance to his beloved.
       "What Bea means," explained Reggie, "is that we are near the end of the Month of Leo, and so the one-month reign of Princess Winona, Princess of Bliss, will soon be over and passed on to the next council princess, Zenobia, who will officially administer the Kingdom of Foxwood for the next month."
     "So why is Princess Winona so blissful?' asked Larissa.
     Bea exploded in giggles, her excited tail again whipping Reggie's nose.
     "Princess Winona rules the Province of Bliss," explained Reggie in careful professorial tones, as if imparting information of the utmost importance to Larissa.  "We live in the central hamlet of Bliss Province, called Radiance. There are twelve provinces in the kingdom, all centered around Athena, the capital city of all Foxwood.  That's where we're going to right now – Athena."
     "For your official presentation to the Council of Princesses!" shouted the very excited Bea.  Reggie dodged the swish of her very excited tail, only to bump his pointed nose against the ornately carved wood interior of the horse-drawn carriage the three travelers were riding in, for the carriage was lurching from side to side, just a bit, from time to time.   
     Larissa suppressed her laughter as Reggie struggled to regain and maintain his calm composure.
     "The twelve provinces extend outward from the hub of Athena like equally divided sections of one great wheel," said Reggie.
     "Not like a wheel!" said Bea.  "Like a pie chart!  The twelve sections of Foxwood are like twelve pieces of a scrumpt-deli-licious pie!  Each with its own distinctly different yummy flavor!"
     Bea patted her plump tummy, making Larissa laugh.  Foxwood's newest visitor and guest turned her head to look out the carriage window at the neatly cropped and well-tended fields, abundant with ripening melons, golden gourds and other delights, flowing past in the morning mists.  The sun was just then rising to warm and nurture Foxwood's obviously boundless bounty.  
     "Time has no sense or meaning in dreams," Larissa remembered a teacher explaining in science class. "You can dream a week's worth of minute-by-minute events – only to awaken and realize you've only been sleeping a few minutes."  Larissa wondered if such a thing could really be true.  Could she really still be sleeping in Dr. Gwen's medical lab, all hooked up to sensors and monitors, and just dreaming all this crazy dream with funny, talking foxes living in a magical kingdom?  And even with today being the second day she'd awakened to be embraced in the loving arms of her new friends, Reggie and Bea, could it really be that she was caught in dream-time, which didn't make any sense? Could she stay here a week – even a month! – during just one night hooked up to Dr. Gwen's dream machine?  She was having so much fun, enjoying Reggie and Bea so much, that she decided it wouldn't be such a bad thing if she were a castaway in dreamland for a whole "dream month."  She decided not to burden her hosts with her scientific speculations about her trip to Foxwood.  Whether they were somehow "real" or just make-believe fox people in her mind, she didn't want to risk upsetting them.  

     As Bea happily prattled on, and Reggie patiently continued to try to better  explain her enthusiastic but confusing rapid-fire travelogue about the people and events of Foxwood, Larissa began to spot more and more of the fox folk citizenry as the carriage approached the city limits of Athena.  Just like Reggie, the men wore olden-timey velveteen or leather breeches tucked into different types of boots.  Most wore simple cotton blouses with voluminous sleeves, some sporting neatly buttoned vests, with or without matching jackets.  A few more elegant types wore musketeer-type wide-brimmed hats with enormous plumes.  Like Bea, the ladies wore long skirts and simple blouses, usually with colorful scarves tied round their heads or necks.  A few wore more elegant jackets and plumed hats.  Larissa recognized the styles immediately.  They were all dressed as she imagined them and then dressed them in her sketches and paintings back home.  All the more evidence, she thought, that this whole crazy thing was just something in her head.

     The team of white horses continued pulling the small carriage through the green countryside (Larissa was beginning to notice how most things in Foxwood seemed a bit smaller, more conforming to the size of most the fox folk and, thought Larissa, just right for her own size ), and then finally there came the crossing of an impressive stone bridge spanning a wide river.  The country road of compacted clay ended at the entrance of the stone bridge.  A wide boulevard of cobblestone greeted the travelers upon having crossed over the bridge.  The sudden rattling of the carriage wheels on the cobblestones only heightened Bea's barely containable excitement.
     "We'll be in Athena in a few minutes, child!  Today is your special day!  I can't believe we'll be presenting you to Princess Winona!  The Council Princess of our own Province of Bliss!  And while she's ruling all of Foxwood during Bliss Province's own special time of year, the Month of Leo!  My heart is just racing!"
     An alarming thought occurred to Larissa.
     "Is there anything special I have to do?" she asked nervously. "Or that I should know? I don't always test well, especially on pop quizzes…"
     Reggie patted Larissa's knee reassuringly.   
     "My dearest Bea, see what you have done!  Just near doused out our poor guest's fun!  My dearest Larissa, do not fret, for it's only the finest time you are going to get!  You need only be just who you are, for that's the very reason you have come to us from so far!  You've already passed the most magical test, having drawn your drawings that are among the very best!"
     The way Reggie would start talking in rhymes at the first hint of any pangs of tension on Larissa's part succeeded mightily in instantly quelling all such nervous pangs.  His rhyming seemed to turn any momentarily disconcerting concern into no more than a silly puzzle piece of a game they were all playing.  Larissa wondered if this rhyming thing was a Reggie thing or a foxy thing shared by the other foxes.  But her inquiring mind was then suddenly interrupted by a knocking on the carriage compartment's roof.  After a courteous moment, the tiny door in the roof popped open.  The carriage driver, an older graying fox wearing a most peculiarly out-of-place pair of aviators' goggles, peered down into the passenger compartment from above and announced, "The Great Gate of Athena is dead on just ahead.  Quite a sight to see if the young lady hain't seen the sight before."
     "Quickly, Larissa!" cried Bea.  "Stand on your seat there!  Put your head through the coachman's portal to get a proper look at the Great Gate!"
     Larissa dared not do as commanded, if only to not disappoint Bea by not matching her in her unrestrained exuberance.
     So Larissa managed to stand up on her cushioned seat, despite the slight jerking and swaying of the carriage, with Reggie holding her ankles securely for safety (his fox claw "fingernails" scraped a bit, right through her stockings) and she was able to hold her head through the open roof portal.
     What she saw was well worth the impromptu teetering on the edge of her seat.
     The Great Gate that was the centerpiece of the Great Wall that surrounded the entirety of the Kingdom of Foxwood's capital city of Athena was as immense in size and breathtaking in its formidable and impenetrable appearance as any gate Larissa had ever seen in pictures in history books, or that she had even ever imagined, for that matter.  She judged the structure to be as similarly amazing as the Great Sphinx Pyramid in Egypt, and the Eiffel Tower in France, although she'd only experienced seeing either in books and on TV.  The enormous wall, that was a solid seamless cream-colored stone of some sort, but fairly glistening with millions of sparkles sparkling from what had to be the sunlight bouncing off some mysterious variety of invisible-to-the-eye embedded gems or metals or stones, spanned the whole near horizon, rounding away in the hazy distance to both the farthest east and the farthest west.  The city within had to be immense.  Larissa could make out some castle-like turrets and minarets, well within the walls, reaching up into the cloudless blue sky.  The Great Gate, which began to swing open as the carriage approached, and The Great Wall, so spooky and intimidating yet so majestic and sparkly, so magical, made Larissa think of the Grimm's Fairy Tales her mom had read to her on rainy nights when she was little, the both of them wrapped up in blankets and cuddled together tight for protection in front of the fireplace.  A shiver shot up her spine as the carriage passed through the open gate and into Athena – a shiver that was both a shiver of fright and a shiver of anticipation.

    The streets of Athena just within the mighty wall were alive with all sorts of fox folk bustling here and there and all about: street vendors, shopkeepers, foxes leading ponies pulling carts of fruits and vegetables or building materials (Larissa saw no other horse-drawn carriages but the one she was currently occupying), even a young fox hawking a local newspaper.  In appearance, the rows of shops and rows of fox residences looked like buildings from European villages in Renaissance times, possibly the late 1700s – the architecture of the buildings vaguely matching the fashion in clothing preferred by the fox folk.  Larissa noted, suspiciously, that the few "details" in the otherwise generically storybook renaissancey architecture and clothing were precisely the only few details she herself was familiar with … only the things she had looked at online and in library books, and copied, to help make her fantasy drawings more "authentic." But there was too much to take in for her to delve back into her "reality mystery" at the moment.  Just seeing the fox folk walking around, going about their day, chatting with each other, was, for Larissa, quite literally her dream come true. Some of the foxes would take notice of her face in the carriage window and wave to her with their furry black-nailed paw-like hands (or was it hand-like paws?) and give her a big foxy smile of sharp pointy foxy teeth.  There were blocks and blocks of modest shops and restaurants and office buildings, none over two-stories tall, and all impeccably well-kempt, and … something else, thought Larissa. Then she had it.  She had never traveled with her parents through any city, or even a large town, that seemed so inviting and so "innocent" of any suggestion of lurking danger.  She just knew she would feel quite safe walking these streets alone at midnight.  She couldn't picture any of these happy, delightful fox folk as being rude to a stranger, let alone being a mugger!
    Soon the carriage had passed through the miles of "metropolitan" Athena, and was racing along the main flagstone-paved thoroughfare dividing immense expanses of perfect green lawns adorned with periodic eruptions of gigantic fountains spraying great jets of water skyward.  In the distance, on both sides of the thoroughfare, miles out on the great lawns, Larissa could see enormous pitched tents and swarms of streaming pole-mounted banners and fluttering flags.  And what seemed to be great gatherings of Foxwood citizens.
     "Oh, those would be your basic Foxwoodian tournaments or festivals of one sort or another," explained Bea.  "Festivals and Games and all sorts of pageants and cotillions and other frivolous social conventions and inventions of dubious intentions. It seems that's what half the fox folk of Foxwood live for!"
     It took several hours and three separate "singalongs" (Reggie, Bea, Larissa and, on the last one, the hilariously croaky coachman "upstairs") featuring the silliest songs ("Fox Howlers"! Reggie called them) that Larissa had ever heard in her life, before the carriage finally arrived at "The Castle" – the "heart of Athena," as Reggie and Bea referred to it.
     It was Foxwood Castle that dominated the heart of Athena, rising some dozen stories up into the sky. It's medieval-style towers and terraces and spires made it look, thought Larissa, like a gigantic wedding cake, it's many streaming red and gold banner flags atop the spires looking like flames on lighted candles.  The castle was visible from the approaching carriage for an hour before Larissa and her hosts actually arrived at the main entrance. Reggie explained that this was the "royal" sector of the capital, housing most of Foxwood's governmental offices and related administrative concerns. There were many other mimicking castle-like stone edifices, but much smaller than Foxwood Castle, distributed in a sort of ring pattern at some distance from the Castle – and all facing the Castle, noted Larissa, as if in awe (or wariness?) of their far more powerful "brother."
     The majestic vision of the towering Castle held Larissa's eyes transfixed upward as she again stood on her carriage seat with her head poking through the coachman's portal for a good look.  She was so wholly mesmerized she would never had looked down, down by the team of white horses and the carriage wheels, had she not heard the splashing of the great fish – the great fish leaping out of, and then splashing back down into, the deep blue water of the crystal clear moat beneath the stone bridge that the carriage was passing over.  The Castle even had a moat! How perfect!  Larissa hadn't even thought of that.  But it got better.  They were passing over only the first of five separate moats, by Larissa'ss excited count, ringing the Castle.  Like the Castle rose out of the center of a big bull's-eye.  
     "Aren't the crystal moats beautiful, Larissa?!" Bea was shouting from down below. "Can you see the fish?!"
     "It's all so beautiful!" the Visitor replied. "The fox townfolk! The Castle! The moats!  It's more amazing than anything I've ever seen, even in dreams!"
     Five crystal clear moats patrolled by ginormous swordfishy fish!  So breathtakingly lovely and artistically designed, thought Larissa happily.  But then she also thought, five moats because five moats is so beautiful, or five moats because the Castle needs that much extra protection from something … something outside that might want to come in?  Another "inquiring mind" question for Reggie and Bea, but maybe not today.
FO9T Book 1 Chapter 5
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I'm sorry I'm not the one you love
I'm sorry that I was not enough
I'm sorry that I didnt have enough
I'm sorry that I was too much
I'm sorry I fussed over you
I really didnt meant to
It's just the way I am
I'm sorry I didnt care enoguh
Or did I care too much
I guess I'll never know
I'm sorry I didnt have the world
I'm sorry I fell short of you expectations
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough
I'm sorry I don't know what I was thinking
I'm sorry that I shame you
I'm sorry I really didnt mean to
I'm sorry I never meant to hurt you
I'm sorry I never saw you cry
I'm sorry I wasn't enough
I'm sorry I'm not the one you love
I'm sorry that I was
I'm sorry it won't happen again
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
But you should be sorry too
Do you know what you did
Do you even understand
You sucked me dry
You hurt me so bad
I've been wounded
But the damage is done
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough
But I really did try my best
And I'm sorry for speaking out of turn
I'm sorry for talking back
I'm sorry I guess I'll be going now
I'm sorry for loving you
And I am sorry too
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    The bridge over the fifth and final moat circling Foxwood Castle fed the speeding carriage carrying Larissa, Reggie and Bea into and through a wide-open arched gateway entrance in the high stone wall surrounding … well, surrounding whatever lies within that I'm being fed to, thought Larissa.  The gateway opening looked to her like a giant's yawning mouth, the raised section of jail-cell gate flashing overhead, with its long row of gleaming spiked tips, being the giant's fearsome teeth.    
     Larissa assumed they were entering the "garage" of the Castle.  But no!  They had passed through yet another surrounding protective wall and were still about a football field or so away from the front entrance of the Castle.  What lay between was a beautifully landscaped courtyard, like a perfectly sculpted green lawn but with statues, little fountains, sitting benches and garland-covered gazebos.  The lawn radiated out over a hundred yards all the way around the Castle (as Reggie explained).  There were dozens, maybe hundreds, of fox folk in their finest velveteen outfits milling about on the great lawn or gathered in groups looking to be in deep discussion.  As the carriage proceeded up the main driveway to the Castle's front entrance, she could see that there were many pedestrian-sized gateways in the courtyard wall, and that there was not just the one wide carriage road entering the grounds, but many walkways extending across the five moats in all directions from the Castle, like rays extending from the sun.
     "It's called the Public Green," said Bea. "Anyone and everyone from Foxwood – or even the Wolfen folk from the Steppes beyond Foxwood – are invited to come here with suggestions for the Council Princesses."
     "Or grievances," interjected Reggie.
     Bea scowled.  "Oh, now, who could have a grievance, living here in Foxwood?" she almost snorted.
     "The people of the Northern Forest – the sprites, the faeries, the Hermit Foxes, not to mention the Cat Queen," answered Reggie.
     "Oh, I've never seen those people here, ever, in Athena," said Bea.  "And I could little care what that conniver Morgana has to complain about!  She's a troublemaker, I say!"
     Larissa thought she detected, for the first time, an actual hint of anger in sweet Bea's voice at the mention of "the Cat Queen."  Bea almost hissed out the name "Morgana."  But it was the "faerie" reference that most powerfully piqued Larissa's interest.
     "There are real live faeries in Foxwood?!"
     Reggie smiled his toothy smile.  "Oh we'll have to make sure you see some of the faerie folk on your visit!  They're quite lovely; like little winged dolls.  But they mainly stick to the Northern Forest.  I suppose we should organize a "field trip" into the edges of the Forest."
     Bea was again agitated by Reggie's words.
     "There's plenty going on right here in Foxwood for Larissa to enjoy without her falling down some crazy savant fox's foxhole in The Forest!  She may well still be here to witness the return of the King!  Anton himself will be retaking his seat on the Gemmed Throne and you'll have Larissa off in the haunted woods – being chased into the barbed blackberry bramble bushes by the sprites, no doubt!"
     "Now, now, Bea," said Reggie in his best soothing tone, "you know I would never take Larissa into the Northern Forest without a Wolfen Guard escort, two or maybe even three of them."
     Larissa was trying to process all the incoming data as fast as it all spilled out of the burbling Reggie and Bea, but it was difficult to decide as to whom and what to ask for further elaboration and explication about first.
     " 'The Wolfen?' " asked Larissa. "These are wolf people just like you're fox people? Are they nice like you guys or scary like werewolves in wolfman movies?"
     "Well, said Reggie, "I'm not familiar with 'wolfman movies,' but our Wolfen cousins are quite bigger and more powerful than we fox brothers.  And they can be quite fierce when confronting intruders or the rare criminal malcontent in Foxwood or the Steppes.  But for a thousand years now or so they've been our guardians and the protectors of the Kingdom. They're more like Foxwood's friendly, even if very intimidating, police force."
    "Well, they still scare me," said Bea, "even if they're always so courteous and polite to me."
    Reggie winked at Larissa.  "Heaven knows what mischief Bea would be up to were it not for our ever vigilant Wolfen Guard deterrent."
    Bea giggled as Larissa pressed on for more information.
    "And the 'sprites' chase people around in the forest?"
    "Oh," laughed Reggie, "Bea was just being dramatic.  The sprites are little winged forest folk about the same size, hummingbird-to-chubby-chickadee-sized, as the Faerie Queens, but a different folk all together!  The faeries are beautiful creatures who dart about in the night, playing their faerie games, and I don't really know what else.  But they're absolutely harmless.  The sprites are red-eyed little devil-looking fellows who are full of mischief.  They love to spread embarrassing rumors amongst the fox and wolfen folk – and they especially like to gossip about the Council Princesses and all our other respected and honorable Foxwood authorities."
     Larissa was enthralled by the idea of tiny winged pranksters tweaking the noses of the Kingdom's powerful potentates. "So they do speak, like you do?"
     "Oh, yes," said Reggie. "Quite a bit too much.  The faeries have their own language that none of us foxes and wolves have ever been able to understand.  But the sprites 'speak faerie.'  Of course, you wouldn't trust a sprite for an accurate translation of a happy hound's happy bark, let alone any message of importance from one of the faerie queens!"
    "Wow," sighed Larissa. "This is all just too cool."
    "I thought it might be," said Bea helpfully. "I brought a sweater for you, dear, just in case."
    The carriage jolted to a stop just outside the enormous open doors of Foxwood Castle's main entrance.  The old gray fox coachman clamored down from his perch to open the carriage side-door and help Larissa, Bea, and Reggie out of the coach.  There were a number of fox folk walking in and out of the great doors of the entrance hallway.  Larissa tried, with little success, not to stare at the different varieties of fox faces, most of them red-furred, some gray-furred, a few white-furred or black-furred.  The fox folk seemed just as transfixed by her presence, stopping to smile and say "hello" before moving on.  Some of the fox gentlemen shook hands with Reggie, as if to congratulate him on doing such a fine job of bringing Larissa to Foxwood.  A few of the fox ladies insisted on giving Larissa a big hug and then a tickly kiss on the cheek (such long whiskers!), which embarrassed Larissa a bit and made her blush. She always hated it when she blushed. Reggie tried to appear unaffected by the attention, but Bea was fairly bursting with pride and excitement to be hosting the new Visitor.  
    "I thought there would be some kind of fancy royal welcoming committee of some sort," said Bea. "Surely, they knew we were coming?"
    "That coachman was a bit heavy on the ponies with his whip," said Reggie. "Maybe we're a little early. I'm sure someone will greet us soon to take us in."
    Larissa was suddenly mortified at the thought of being made even more the center of attention!  She was just a standard-issue human schoolgirl of no particular note, she thought to herself, but she was already feeling like some sort of freak that everyone was wanting to get a look at.  How she wished she could suddenly grow a big fluffy red tail and turn into just another no-big-deal walking talking fox of no particular interest – oh, to just be normal like the others!    
    In Larissa's guest bedroom, back at Reggie and Bea's cottage, there had appeared, upon her second morning in residence, a large wicker basket full of her favorite clothes from home, all freshly laundered and neatly folded.  Here, at Foxwood Castle, she wondered if she might fit in better if she had something more "native" to wear, rather than the blue work-shirt, blue-jeans and black sneakers (her usual home uniform) that she was currently wearing.  She started to ask Bea if there was a "Foxwood Mall" when an eruption of shouting and clattering and the sound of boots running on polished  stone burst forth from inside the Castle's cavernous front foyer.  A coterie of foxes all dressed in matching velvety red fringed jackets (with the funniest shoulder epaulets!), blue breeches and pointed half-boots came scrambling out the front entranceway and hastily assembled themselves into two facing rows across the walkway just in front of Larissa and her hosts.  They hoisted aloft the long golden horns they had brought for the occasion and blew a brief, bracing fanfare into the late morning breeze. Then they lowered their horns and stood silently at rigid attention. A small crowd of fox folk began forming up just behind Larissa, Reggie and Bea, waiting to see what there might be to see.  Larissa watched as well, wondering what important person might be arriving or departing to such an ovation.
    "Who's coming?" Larissa whispered to Bea.
    Bea laughed and hugged the clueless girl.  " 'Who's coming?' !  Why, you are, Larissa! This is all for you!"
    The fox folk standing nearby laughed softly and began to quietly applaud the coming of the newest Visitor.  Larissa cringed inwardly and blushed outwardly, smiling a slightly embarrassed smile and offering a trembling, half-hearted wave to her new "fans" who continued to gather all around her.
     "So what do I do?" whispered Larissa to Reggie.
     "Oh, nothing, I think," replied Reggie.  "I believe they make it all happen for you quite automatically and worry-free."
     "Well, I'm feeling really cornered and kinda stuck right now…" whispered Larissa.
     A rolling, unfurling red carpet appeared from inside the Castle, covering the polished flag-stones and filling the space between the two rows of royal fox trumpeters and stopping just inches from Larissa's sneakered toes.  And then there was only the bated breath of the gathered fox folk to disturb the sudden prevailing silence…
     A silence that lasted one perfectly dramatic moment.      
     "Lord Chamberlain Reynard!"  boomed a deafeningly loud voice from inside the Castle.  Larissa jumped involuntarily at the sudden, almost violent  announcement, clutching Bea's furry paw.
      "Who said that?!" whispered Larissa.
      "Reynard, of course," whispered Reggie, rolling his eyes.
      "Shush!" whispered Bea, scowling at Reggie.
     And then the most dapper and dashing and, well, courtly gentleman fox that Larissa had yet seen came striding (almost strutting, she thought) down the red carpet toward Larissa, Reggie and Bea.  He was distinctly taller (almost six foot!) than the other foxes and his fur was a shining silver color. His eyes were not really the usual fox-yellow at all.  They were a gleaming gold.  But it was his overall attitude – his bearing – that announced his having some position amongst Royalty.  He stood not just as stiff and straight as a fence post, but in an almost haughty and aloof manner.  (Larissa was pretty sure "haughty" and "aloof" were the proper words to describe how Lord Chamberlain Reynard looked to her, and glad that she regularly perused (another favorite word) her Word Power vocabulary builder book when she was really bored.  Who knew she would one day have an adventure requiring precisely accurate character descriptions for the proper later recounting of that adventure?!)
     The Lord Chamberlain Reynard strode right toward Larissa like a stern schoolmaster about to scold a disobedient schoolchild. Larissa feared he was mad at her.  But then, as he abruptly halted at the end of the red carpet only inches from the her, he bowed low, most obsequiously, with one sweeping silver paw extended invitingly, as if to indicate "come right this way, all this is yours!"   And the sudden presentation of his overly toothy fangy smile was equally as obsequious, it seemed to Larissa.  But Reggie and Bea seemed quite awed and overwhelmed in the presence of this figure of most minor Royalty.  Larissa could feel their paws trembling slightly as they held her hands.
      "Welcome to Foxwood Castle, Larissa. May your visit be a most memorable and propitious one."
      "Thank you, Lord Chamberlain," said Bea, quietly and respectfully.
      "Thank you, Lord Chamberlain," said Reggie, quietly and respectfully.
      Larissa said nothing, distracted by the intricate stitching of Reynard's gray, pin-striped jacket, and by the magnificent ruffles of his royal blouse that spilled out of his jacket sleeves and collared his royal neck.  Reynard actually wore spats on his highly polished shoes!  So Bea redirected Larissa's focus with a discreet elbow jab to her ribs.
     "Oh, yeah, thanks," said Larissa, cheerfully.  "Um … thanks for the carriage and the horns and the carpet and everything."
     Reggie grinned and raised a paw to cover his strangled snort of delight.
     So Bea elbowed him, too, but a bit harder.
     "How delightful you are, my lovely Larissa," said Reynard, still smiling broadly and pretending not to be offended by Larissa's lacking of the state of total awestruckness in which he felt his royal title totally deserving of her being.  But how could she be all that impressed?  She remembered reading in History class that a "chamberlain" was simply the supervisor of a royal household.  Back home, Larissa's friend Lupe's mom was the Head of Housekeeping at the Holiday Inn next to the turnpike. So, big whoop, right?  Nobody trembled in Lupe's mom's presence.
     As Larissa thought her thoughts, Reggie and Bea were thinking their thoughts, which were very similar thoughts, as Reggie's and Bea's thoughts tended to be remarkably synchronized in most matters.  They thought, Larissa can't possibly understand how much power Reynard commands!  His was a unique catbird's seat "behind-the-scenes" position of running the royal household, supervising all the butlers and maids and cooks and servers and physicians and nurses and gardeners and beekeepers and tailors and tinkers and craftsman and blacksmiths and horsemen and messengers and artists and musicians and dancers and astrologers.  His power was the power of possessing every secret, of knowing every private personal relationship, of having the ability to press at every fear and weakness of every non-Royal staff person within the Castle.  And those staffers had eyes and ears that every day were close enough to see and hear the secrets of the members of Higher Royalty – those above Reynard whom Reynard had no "official" power over.  Few of the Royals above Lord Chamberlain Reynard were fully aware of how vulnerable they truly were to him, of how much of their power over him he had cunningly bled away from them with his constant collection of their most closely held secrets, stolen away one by one by one…
     Reggie and Bea shivered simultaneously.
     It's amazing, thought Reggie, and also thought Bea at exactly the same time, how the least of Foxwood's citizenry, the commoner peasant fox folk way out in the twelve Provinces, foxes like us, know so much about the romantic entanglements, the personal feuds, and the brewing political games going on in Foxwood Castle – even more than the actual Royal "players" involved!  But such is the blindness with which great egotisticalness and vanity afflicts the hearts and minds of the Royals.  And such is the wonder of the fox folk's Kingdom-wide peer-to-peer "gossip & rumor dissemination network," created over the centuries out of the necessity to  semi-satiate the insatiable "hunger" of the fox folk's innate "fox-inquisitiveness."    
     We must alert Larissa to the importance of never accidentally insulting Lord Reynard at the earliest opportunity!  thought Reggie and Bea, who were still thinking the same thoughts at exactly the same time.
F09T Book 1 Chapter 6
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Jordan Fenix.

The name hit a nerve.

How could Norn Hannah Kappel not recognize one of her children, one of the girls she helped bring into the world? Now she could see it clearly. Jordan's features: her emerald eyes and pale skin. They were those of her mother, just finer due to her elven blood. Whereas her mother had been possessed of long, red hair, Jordan had shorter black hair. Nevertheless, she was her mother's daughter; she had the same soft smile. Her ears were pointed and her eyes deep and full of purpose just like her father. She was the same height as her mother, just a bit taller than Hannah herself, but she was athletic and fit for combat.

The Norn lowered her face and took the girl's hands on her own. "Child, forgive them! I am sorry my dear child, I didn't know."

Jordan looked a bit embarrassed. "It's fine Norn. I understand the people in the region have suffered. I can't really blame them."

"And yet you do, don't you?" Hannah's voice was but a whisper, her eyes still downcast. "You are right to blame us. You were but a child, yet I wager you remember everything. I was not in town when it happened, but that doesn't make it less my fault. I knew I should have preached more tolerance, but once fear and anger mix, it's like wildfire… it burns out of control."

Jordan closed her eyes tightly, her haunting memories were returning in force. To her, the cries of the mob and the heat of the torches were all too real. For a moment she was sure she had heard her name whispered in the cold east wind.

Jordan trembled. She felt like a toddler again. She took her hands from between those of the Norn and embraced the smaller woman. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks warm and moist, still she kept her voice from breaking. "Norn Hannah, you are not to blame for what others did. My father was very thankful for your help and always spoke highly of you." The embrace was tender but it lasted only a few seconds before the girl moved away.

"Dear child, it has been too long. You have grown to become as beautiful as your mother."

Hannah, noticing the sad expression that last statement brought, swiftly changed topics, "Your father, dear, how is his holiness doing these days?"

"He still hates when people call him that. He is do…" Jordan was cut short when a rock struck the side of her head. She fell to one knee, dizzy and surprised.

Norn Kappel turned around," who did that?"

The culprit stood, dressed in rags, not to far from them. Already he was bending to grab another rock. As he stood straight he gave an angry cry that caught the attention of those who were close. "It's the same damn face. Look at her! Can't you see it? Don't you remember her? It's the same witch in different clothes!"

The man's accusations were the ravings of a drunkard, yet still the people stopped and stared. The spectators began to whisper, their memories jogged by the cries. The girl was the living image of the Fenix Witch.

Jordan regained her footing and barely dodged the second rock. She had a nasty cut in her brow and it began to bleed profusely. The blood dripped, down the left side of her face, yet instead of attending to it; she kept her attention on the people, especially the drunk. Her left hand caressed her sword's pommel while the right began moving towards its handle. There was a green fire in the young sword knight's eyes, but she controlled herself.

Hannah tried to intervene, "Child, please stop! She is not who you think!" Still the man continued throwing rocks, insults and cries.

"I know who she is! She is a Fenix! Like the Fenix who practiced witchcraft and abandoned us! They are the ones responsible for my wife's death!"

The man was Veles, the town drunkard. His life had not been the same since his wife had died in childbirth. Hannah had attended the woman, yet her efforts had been in vain.

A crowd as large as the one before started to gather again, only this time it was not merely to watch. Several began picking up stones and other makeshift weapons. Hannah tried to calm them, but her words fell on deaf ears. The angry murmurs grew louder. The drunk's spark was about to ignite a bonfire.

Jordan's instinct told her to prepare for a fight, but her sense of duty told to stay her hand and not hurt these people. With a sigh, Jordan calmed herself, stood up straighter and addressed the crowd.

"You sent us away; so you can't blame my father or his followers after what you people did. We protected you and in return you betrayed us. You took my mother away from us! What did you expect he would do?"

She hoped to convince them to just move on, but somehow all the resentment and sadness she had tried to forget resonated through her words, inciting them to become violent. She didn't hate them, not any longer. She had learned to live with her loss. Still, being here had revived too many feelings the young knight had long kept buried.

The crowd itself didn't care about her loss; they were too focused on their own pain.  One stone flew toward her and then several more. Most missed by an inch or more, but a few flew true. She lifted her shield from Argentum's saddle to deflect the stones.

"Tell that to my uncle, you let him die!"One howled.

"My father too!"

"We still mourn my brother, witch!"

Before things came to a bloody resolution, Norn Hannah Kappel chose to act. The Norn, moved herself between the young sword knight and her attackers, and began to pray. Two of the stones intended for Jordan struck her. Still she continued to pray, unheeding of the danger to herself. There was a shimmer and a glow in the air in front of her. A stone struck the glow and bounced away from the divine barrier.

The crowd stopped for a moment. Awareness of what they were doing slowly crept over them. The Norn was much beloved and they had no wish to hurt her. The boldest stepped forward.

"Norn Kappel, please move and let us do what must be done."

Norn Kappel opened her eyes wide. When she spoke it was with all the authority of her office, "No. No, my children! I helped her mother when she was born; she is as much my daughter as any of you. I expect you to treat her as you would do any of my daughters."

Reluctantly the crowd began dispersing; many in silence. Still a few hurled insults against the young knight as they walked of sight.

Jordan lowered her shield and prayed in thanks to her goddess that the crowd was gone. Norn Kappel sighed in pain, "by the Wheel child, let me take care of your wounds."

Jordan shook her head slowly, "Perhaps later Norn, I think it would be better if I head straight for the temple." The girl took Argentum's reigns and turned toward her destination. She advanced, caressing the animal's mane as she guided him along the road. Norn Kappel followed close behind.


The Temple of the Inheritor had seen better days.

Jordan's father had founded it in the name of their goddess more than thirty years earlier as a Temple and a Fortress dedicated to the protection and welfare of the whole region. During his time in Canterwall the place prospered. Now, a decade after their departure, no building in the surrounding region showed more signs of abandonment and neglect that it.

From afar the state of the building was barely perceptible, but as one approached it was all too easy to see the damage and disrepair. Only the garden besides the building was well cared for.

The front door was open wide, as if waiting for followers that would never return. Leaving Argentum outside both women climbed the steps and entered into Iomedae's house. Their steps echoed loudly in the temple's interior. Except for the fact that it was clean of dust and debris, the temple would have been abandoned. And yet, if Jordan focused she could feel the presence of the goddess. It was in the light glistening off the swords guarding the interiors.

As they went further in, Jordan could smell the light aroma of myrrh coming from the back of the chapel. There, praying besides the altar was a lonely young woman dressed in a simple white dress and adorned only with short golden braids.

The young priestess stood when she heard Jordan and Hannah's steps behind her. Despite being in her twenties', the young woman looked tired beyond her years. She began walking, slowly at first, towards the girl in silvery armor as if she could not believe her eyes. Then suddenly she ran sweeping Jordan into a full embrace.

"Jordan? What are you doing here?" There was amazement in the girl's voice, as if she had come to believe she would never see her friend again.

"Mirna, I missed you so!" Jordan cried returned the embrace.

"I thought you would never come back," said the blond priestess. She stepped back and wiped away the tears in her eyes.

"Well, I heard you were having difficulties here, but I promise it will be fine now."

The two looked each other over. Jordan thought Mirna looked so different from the last time they had seen each other, more than ten years ago, but still she recognized her friend's tenderness.

Mirna seemed to notice Hannah then for the first time. "Norn," she said respectfully.

And then she saw Jordan's head wound. "By the Goddess! Are you ok? Norn Kappel, did my friend give you any trouble down there?" Mirna tried to keep her tone casual, but Jordan picked up on the worry.

"None at all child, the problem were my children," said the Norn apologetically.

"Just a case of mistaken identity dear," Jordan shrugged

"You were never a good liar, old friend," said Mirna. She took Jordan by the hand and led her to the kitchen where she had fresh water and some healing implements.

"Please sit down, it's not much but it is all we have." said the young priestess taking the water and cotton to clean Jordan's fresh wound, but to her surprise it had already closed.

"I see the Goddess continues to give her blessings to you," said Mirna playfully.

Jordan smiled slightly, her face blushing. "And I am thankful, for she has kept me alive far longer than I deserve."

"You have to tell me all about it; I was told you traveled a lot. But you must be tired and hungry. Why don't you bath on my quarters while I prepare something for our breakfast?"

Jordan smiled and gave her old friend a kiss on the forehead, barely able to contain her own tears.

"Later, first I need to see her. Help me take this off."

Mirna nodded in understanding, and helped Jordan remove her armor; like she used to when they were mere acolytes, leaving just the chain beneath it.

After cleaning her face, Jordan left the other two women in the kitchen. Carrying her Holy sword, Faina, she used its magic blade to light her descent into the temple's cellar. She walked, guided only by memory until at last she reached a niche in the wall. Jordan caressed tenderly the words in scripted on it.

They read: "Novannia Fenix, beloved mother and wife."

"Mother, I've come home." Jordan hoped her voice didn't sound as hollow as the word home felt for her.

This is story is being developed between a friend and me, but we take inspiration in the creations of two others. Jordan is my OC and the life events around ehr are my creation.

Thanks to:

@Israel Reyes: for giving me the idea where to begin working and for his influence in Jordan's development.
@David Sol Llaven: For creating Hanna Kappel
@Wes Schneider: Setting (for he created Ustalav & Canterwell in the image of so many other and good gothic inspirations)

I worked over all this, changing and developing things as the dramatic momentum asked for. Hope you and them enjoy the story.

The story continues from here: Part 1

Ustalav, Iomedae and Pharasma are part of Pathfinder RPG License which is owned by Paizo, Inc.

This story is written under Piazo's community Police: “Pathfinder Chronicler Website uses trademarks and/or copyrights owned by Paizo Publishing, LLC, which are used under Paizo’s Community Use Policy. We are expressly prohibited from charging you to use or access this content. This website is not published, endorsed, or specifically approved by Paizo Publishing. For more information about Paizo’s Community Use Policy, please visit For more information about Paizo Publishing and Paizo products, please visit”
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Chapter Six: Barbamon's Plot
In the Dark Area, Beelzemon had just returned and flopped into his room when a certain other Demon Lord sauntered in to see him.
"Hello, Beelzemon," Lillithmon said in a seductive voice. "How was the outside?"
"Get lost, Lillithmon," he snapped. "I really don't like you, and I never have."
"Don't be like that…" she said, walking over to him.
Beelzemon's eyes flashed in anger as he lifted his Berenjena shotgun at her. "If you don't leave, we're gonna have to have a membership drive."
"Why's that?" she asked 'innocently'.
"You'll be dead."
Lillithmon gulped out of fear and backed away.
"Go play with Daemon or Barbamon, Lillithmon. Just leave me alone!"
"Fine," she said stiffly. Lillithmon walked out of his room, and Beelzemon locked the door after her. "Man, she's a real jerk. Not kind and not nearly as beautiful as Kuzuhamon," he said quietly. Kuzuha's funny and smart…though a little naïve……she's beautiful and elegant…kind…she's perfect…Beelzemon thought. Images of the fox woman fluttered through his mind and heart, making his heart race. Dang. I have to stop thinking about her……but I can't! She's just too……beautiful! She's too perfect…man, I really am the Demon Lord of 'gluttony', just like Leviamon said. I wanted pride, but nooooooooo, Lucemon is the Lord of Pride. I guess Leviamon was right; I am a glutton – for punishment! I can't stop thinking about her……but I don't want her to be targeted! Why me?
Meanwhile, in Barbamon's quarters, a Knightmon and a Blackrapidmon went through a final Digivolution process into Chaosgallantmon and Blackmegagargomon. Then, the capsules opened and the former Blackagumon and Gazimon stepped out of the units and kneeled before the mastermind Digimon.
"Lord Barbamon," the two of them said.
"Chaosgallantmon, Blackmegagargomon," Barbamon began. "Your companion, Kuzuhamon, betrayed the group and escaped. She wishes to bring you down and take your powers for her own. She has betrayed our trust, and wants to thwart your attempts to become powerful. You must bring her in so we can make her see the error of her ways, or take her Fractal Code and bring me her DigiEgg so we can remove her malign instincts that want to bring about your downfall. Will the two of you do this to save her?"
"Yes, my lord!" the two of them said, running out of the room.
"Interesting…" Daemon said from the shadows. "Not only did you morph them to Mega form, but you also successfully brainwashed the two of them. Why didn't it work on Kuzuhamon?"
"Simple – she's a holy Digimon. She was more resistant to the process."
"Yes, there is that. I hope that after they delete Kuzuhamon, the two of them will be enough to defeat those accursed Tamers," Daemon said.
"It'll have to be enough," Barbamon told him. "While I would have preferred Kuzuhamon to be under my command, what we have should suffice."
"So it would seem," the Demon Lord of Wrath told the Demon Lord of Greed.
Short chapter is short. I should be posting the next chapter soon.

Gods, I WISH I owned this stuff......only the plot is mine.
About the Digimon lines......

EDIT: The names are all links now.
And I know that none of these are official, but I did my best to preserve something that could tie the lines together.
And I know...'viruses are evil'.
Ya know what? Impmon, Wizardmon, Wormmon, and the adorable little Guilmon are Viruses. Deal with it.



(See a theme anyone?)

Chapter 5: [link]

Chapter 7: [link]
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1) Tell him to stop staring at your ass (funniest if you're a boy).

2) Seduce him and steal his book while he's vulnerable.

3) Read the first page of it and call him a pervert, throwing the book at his face.

4) Say that you think Gai is cooler than him.

5) Draw a face on his mask.

6) While he's taking a shower hijack all of his masks.

7) Give him poorly drawn Yaoi featuring him and some absolutely random character for his birthday.

8) Ask to do his hair.

9) Cry when he says no.

10) Repetitively say "Please" In different voices until he says yes.

11) Dye it lime green.

12) Take his pants...or underwear if you prefer, and sell them on eBay.

13) Sneak into his room and blast Screamo while he's sleeping.

14) Steal all of his bedroom furniture and watch from a distance as he wakes up and gets an epic "WTF?" face.

15) Call him a pedophile for butt poking Naruto.

16) Tie him to a tree and spoil the ending of Icha-Icha Tactics for him.
I decided to make another "How to Annoy ___" Thingy! XD
THIS TIME FEATURING KAKASHI!! :XD: :iconanbukakashiplz: :iconpervykakashiplz:
After all, i'm a ninja, so i had to submit something Naruto eventually :P
and i'm still very much into hetalia, but i couldn't sleep last night so i started reading naruto again from the beginning of shippuden! :iconxd-plz:
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