Scared, tired, cold, wet, and alone.  I shiver in the dark, after looking for my lost mother I found a nearby cave and ran inside to get out of the wet rain, it started up out of nowhere too.

I shiver as I try to warm up my hands by slowly breathing into them and rubbing them against each other.  I am only a 8 year old girl, I don't know much about the world, I don't know much about anything.  I was scared and alone, in this unknown cave far out into the region in the middle of the night surrounded by strange noises and dangerous pokemon.

After listening for over an hour now the fear started to take over me and I started to cry and panic, I try to crawl further into the cave but to no avail, I hid my eyes into my scabbed knees from falling over earlier and cried for a long while.  Thats until I heard a small noise, I can't explain the noise I heard, it sounded disorented and yet...playful? Curious? Sad...maybe?

I swallowed down my fear and slowly looked up, at first, I didn't see anything around me, until I looked down to see this tiny pokemon in front of me, giving me a curious look.  The shock scared the life out of me as I try to climb up the back wall of the cave, whimpering and yelling at the thing to go away, but it stayed, still giving me that curious look.

I may have been standing there for a good 30 minutes until I finally sat back down, still staring at the pokemon, as it continues to stare back.  I never seen a wild pokemon before, and I never seen this kind before ether, the only pokemon I have ever seen was my moms Lillipup 'Milly' who passed away a couple of days ago from a mysterious death.  I was so distraught from the loss and so was my mother.

This pokemon, after staring at it for so long I've noticed some features on it, its very small, I can easily carry it with two hands, it looked like its eyes were a solid color, just, blank.  Its body looked like it was melting too, which scared me at first, but it must be just how it looks.  But the thing that caught my interest most, was the flame lit on top of its head, it is the only light source in this cave so I always end up looking straight at it, glowing a strange purple glow, it was so mezmorizing.

After a couple of hours, the pokemon started to move towards me, just slowly hopping towards me, making its small noise.  I try to back up a bit, but I couldn't move, there was no way out and no where else to go.  The pokemon jumped onto my lap and stared up right at me, I close my eyes, awaiting for something painful, but only felt warmness against my chest, I open my eyes again to see this pokemon rubbing against my chest, like it was trying to comfort me.  When it noticed I was looking at it, it looked up at me and smiled.  I don't know why, but I smiled with it, I somewhat felt a lot safer with this pokemon around.  I slowly picked it up against me and started walking deeper into the cave.

Even though I know pokemon probably can't understand me, I was telling this pokemon my whole life story, what I love to eat, what I love to do with my mother, I told it all about Milly and my dad, it was nice just to have something to talk to in this scary situation.  I told it how I was out here looking for my mother when she suddendly dissappeared the other day, and how Milly passed away so suddendly and how much I missed them both.  The pokemon smiled and jumped out of my arms, I look at it as it smiles at me and starts jumping towards the left.  I don't know why, but I had a feeling in my stomach that maybe this pokemon knows where my mother is and it wants to guide me to her?  My young, naive mind made me believe that this was true, as I picked up the pokemon and started walking to the left, following its order, hoping to see my mom again.

I have been walking for a good while now, around 40 minutes or so, I'm surprised the sun hasn't risen yet, and I was starting to get hungry and very dizzy, but I continue on.  After a couple of more minutes the pokemon jumped out of my hands again and started to jump towards north, and once again, I picked it up and did what it told me, I headed north.

I know a good hour has past, and my dizzyness has gotten a lot worse, my eyesight started to get blurry and my breathing has gotten a lot heavier.  I didn't know how large this cave was, maybe I was a fool to search in here?  After a couple of minutes I fell to the side, breathing rapidly, my chest hurt, and before I knew it, I passed out.  I woke up seeing the pokemon next to me, smiling.  I lifted myself up and pulled myself together, and continued on north, with the pokemon still in my arms.  I knew my stomach started eatting itself and my skin is so cold, I might have gotten hyperthermia from these wet clothes, but I was 8, I didn't know any better, I didn't know my condition at the time, all i wanted was to see my mom, and I believed this pokemon knew where she was.

Hours have passed, my eyesight has become so blurred I can only see the purple glow that the pokemon shows on top of its head.  My breathing has become very slow and my chest felt like it was on fire, my legs were shaking and my arms were sore and weak.  I ended up falling over again, this time, I didn't have the strength to pull myself up, I just laid there for god knows how long.  All I can remember seeing was the strange pokemon staring at my cold body, with a smile, as its purple light glows in the darkness, that was the last thing I saw when I was alive.


When I slowly came out of my body, I look down at the pokemon as it stared at my spirit, it knew I was dead, and yet, it was still smiling.  I walk a few steps and turn to see myself lying on the ground, I didn't know what was happening, I was afraid, but I don't feel the pain anymore, actually, I don't feel anything anymore, it took awhile to accept that I have died.  I just assumed I died from hyperthermia, it would make sense due to the wet clothes and it being winter.  I continued walking north in my ghost state, with the pokemon still hoping behind me.

I don't know how long I have been walking now, it may have been hours, days, maybe even years, I just continued walking in this cave, still hoping to find my mother in this cave.  After what seemed like an eternity, I finally found a large blue blanket on the ground, it seemed like there was something under it, I tried to take it off but I can't touch it, when I was about to give up, the pokemon came right through me and pulled off the blanket to reveal a fresh corpse.  The sight shocked me as I fell back with my hand on my mouth, incredably afraid.  I stare at this corpse for a long while, this person must have died not too long ago, maybe from exhaustion.  As I stand up to get a closer look at the corpse,  my eyes widen with shock.  For once, ever since I died, I felt pain, pain in my chest, to see that the corpse in front of me, was my mother...

I fell onto my knees, holding my head with both of my hands I let out a long, sharp shriek that echoed through the entire cave, tears rolling down my eyes as I try to interact with my mothers corpse, but to no avail.  I pretend to lay down next to her sometimes, pretending she was rubbing my hair and singing to me like she always did.  I stayed by her corpse for weeks, not moving from her side.  I open my eyes to see the same pokemon in front of me, still having a smile on its face, it hopped over to the left, maybe about 3 feet away from my moms corpse and started jumping up and down, it seemed like it wanted to show me something.  I didn't want to leave my mother, but my curiousity got the better of me as I lifted myself up and walked over to the creature.  As I walked closer, I notice a dead device on the ground, it was red, and I've seen it before, it belonged to my mother, I've seen her use it a couple of times.  A... poke'dex, she called it? She told me it was to identify pokemon and that one day I would have hers, unfortunately that will never happen.  I look back to the pokemon as it stares at the poke'dex and gave it a small jolt of electricity and the device came back to life.  Before I could react the pokemon jumped in front of it, and to my horror, it identified it...

Litwick

While shining a light and pretending to be a guide, it leeches off the life force of any who follow it.

(No)-Heart is a living dead wolf, who is the soul of a little girl. At the time, (No)-Heart was nothing but an innocent toy with a devious smile on it's face. The girl was barely even six, and her mother died. She lived with her father, who was an alcohol addict. She, however, managed to get him to stop for the sake of his life and possible poverty. However, she didn't realize that he had kept another secret: After loosing access to drinking away his sorrow, he turned to drugs. He barely made enough money to trade for his drugs, so one day, he traded his daughter for the drugs. Even though it pained him greatly, he did it for his mortall depression. The drug-seller took the little girl, but killed her since he thought children were pointless "shits."

At her death, she held the plush, of which her soul was transported into.

Her name of (No)-Heart was actually a nickname her bullies called her. They believed she had no heart because she never held emotions, never cried, never got angry, not even smiled. They thought she was a demon that was going to kill them all. But, she also never spoke to any one, except her father. However, it is unkown if she even held emotions towards her dad trading her.
She also never knew about a god, therfore is claimed to be an athiest.

My Missingno Story

The following story is completely true. This experience forever changed my way of viewing inanimate objects.

I was just your average 10 year old when I first got my copy of Pokemon Red. And like any other kid at the time, Pokemon was the BOMB, the best thing out there.

As surprising as it was, everyone in my class had the game. We all took our gameboys to school and would play the game together on recess.  Helping each other out if we ever had trouble, trading high leveled pokémon in order to clear the gyms, or just guide each other through the game.

They were wonderful times, and I made memories that I will cherish forever.

One day a friend of mine got the game, and my group decided to help him out by lending him our most powerful pokémon. So he could quickly clear the game, and catch any pokémon he wanted.

And so I said goodbye to my first pokémon Chacha.

Haha, yes laught it up. I know you're snickering and I know you're guessing who it was.

My first pokémon was a Charmander who I named Chacha. I was a kid and I loved my pokémon so I gave him a cute personal nickname. I never thought about giving him a cool name like Raptor or Rex (which are names my friends used lol).

He was lvl 84 when I gave him away. One fierce looking Charizard.

I spent a lot of time into training and raising that pokémon. I used him in every gym and he was always in my party. The first and only pokémon I used when a battle began, because I wanted him to lvl up and get stronger and stronger. It almost never lost a battle, except to Gary's Blastoise. But not without giving him a good side of damage.

I really felt a lot of love towards Chacha, it was my first pokémon, not to mention that I had a good imagination. I would imagine our adventure as if I was really there.

I can't express how exited and in awe I was, when I first played Pokemon Stadium with the game pak. It felt like Chacha had really come to life.

…

…

I'm all grown up and everything, but seriously when I think back at this memory it still makes me feel sad and angry.

No, my friend didn't keep Chacha and not give it back. It wasn't like that at all.

We all hate bullies don't we? Because that's exactly what happened. A bully took away my friend's gameboy and he would not give it back.

All our fav/toughest pokémon were in his game, so we weren't about to just sit down with our arms crossed. We chased the bully all over the school until we reached the 3rd story of the building. And yeah, just like you're probably thinking… the freaking butthole decided that since he couldn't have the game, then no one could.

He threw the gameboy into the courtyard. And the rest is history.

His gameboy broke to pieces. But somehow the game had survived. It partly cracked, and so it got corrupted.

When a friend pulled out his gameboy and put the game on, the whole thing was glitchy and was unreadable. But it would still work.

The sadness we felt can't be put into words. We cried. It was only a game, the teachers said, and we shouldn't have brought it to school in the first place. But they didn't know the love we put into the game, they didn't know the relationship we felt towards our pokémon. All our talk about feelings to them was dumb.

The bully was suspended, and the parents of the bully repaid my friend's parents for the broken gameboy.

Sadly, our pokémon were gone… Or so we thought.

One day I thought about how we could still save our pokémon. The game was corrupted and glitchy, but the music would still play and the saved game was still there.  So what stopped us from trading back our beloved pokémon?

We hooked up our gameboy's via cable link and started testing to see if our pokémon were still there. And through glitchy sounds and continuous attempts, we managed to make out which pokémon belonged to who.

And so the testing began. We all captured wild weak pokémon on our separate games and set up our pokémon on the glitchy game in order, so we knew which pokémon belonged to who.

The first trade went through. And it was a half success.  My friend got his Gengar back, but half the sprite was distorted, but its moves and everything were there. The second one was a complete failure. My friend's Taurus was just completely scrambled. Its head was in one spot while the body pieces were scrambled in random places. The third one was a huge success, which really got my hopes up. My friend's Kanghaskan was A-Ok, except for it's cry. If you're curious about how it sounded then go check it's cry, and think of it sounding lower and sort of broken.

…And finally it was Chacha's turn.

I crossed my fingers and let the transfer begin.

Everything seemed fine when it crossed by. The animal sprite looked perfect…

But when Chacha appeared on my screen my heart dropped. The sprite had somehow distorted so bad that it looked as if Chacha's left arm was half gone, there was a hole in its body, its wings were half split, and half its tail was gone. As if someone took a brush and painted parts of it off. When it roared, it sounded so high and broken that I felt as if it was crying in pain.

I cant begin to explain how sad I was.  My Chacha looked like it was broken in pieces, and held to life only by its will.

After that, my friends and I tried making things seem normal again, pretending as if nothing happened. But every time I heard Chacha's cry it really hurt me on the inside. It sounded like it was in pain. Every battle the same cry would come out. And regardless of how victorious we were, hearing it's cry began taking a toll on me. It felt like my pokémon was dying or dead, but I only kept itself alive for my sake. It didn't seemed fair to Chacha. He deserved better than that.

I remembered that there was a graveyard in lavender town. And after a lot of thought, I decided that I would release Chacha. To make believe it died. Back then I really thought that it deserved some peace. So I went to lavender town, got to the pokémon center, placed Chacha on Bill's computer… and hit the release button.

It wasn't all that fast though, I actually cried and took me like 20 minutes to hit the release button. But when I finally did, I could have sworn that Chacha's cry turned back to normal, as if saying thank you. Even the sprite looked like it was back to normal.

'Good bye' I heard…

That was the end of that. I didn't play my game again, because it made me remember my incident with Chacha over and over. I regretted ever letting go of my friend like that. It wasn't until like 2 months later that I picked up the game again. When a friend introduced me to a way to make hundreds of rare candy and masterballs.

Yup, the very famous Old man trick.

It was simple enough. Talk to the old man in Viridian City, have him teach you how to catch Pokemon, place the item you want to make more of on slot number six, fly to cinnabar island, use surf, and go up and down the edge of the island until a random battle starts. You can choose to fight and beat the pokémon that appears, or just plainly quit. Whatever the choice, once the battle is over, you'll have a ton of items you can sell for money and buy whatever items you want.

But nothing prepared me for what happened that stormy night.

No, I'm not being dramatic. It was seriously raining and thundering outside. I lived in Mexico City at the time, and if none of you know, its an elevated zone. Which makes it much more humid, and it makes it so that there's more frequent raining.

Anyway, I got back from school that Friday and went for an afternoon nap. By the time I woke up it was already dark out. My mom was on the living room watching a movie with my dad. And the whole house was dark, except for the outside, which was raining and slightly thundering.

I decided I might as well try out what my friend had told me about the cheat. I took out a piece of paper that had the instructions and started the process.

By the time I got to cinnabar island, I called out my Golduck(Ducky) and had it use surf. We started going up and down the shore line, when suddenly the random battle went off. And exactly at the same it thundered loudly outside. I even heard the window shake.

Out of the corner of the screen it appeared... the shape of the ghost that was on the lavender town tower.

When that happened, I literally felt my mind go blank. I let out the loudest scream I could, turned off the game, and ran to my parents.

For the next two days I had nightmares and I would not touch the game. Why the heck did a ghost appear? Wasn't the ghost just the Cubone's mother? Why the heck did that appear in there? I couldn't sleep. I had the silphco. So it made no sense for it to appear.

It wasn't until Monday came, that I asked my friend about it, and he was puzzled.  He hadn't fought the ghost, but instead a random box shape.

Once recess came along, he took out his gameboy and showed me, with me still cowering from my experience. But sure enough, out of the corner of his screen a random box shape came out. He had his Gengar use nightshade and killed it with one blow. After that, he went to his item box and as he had told me, he had x*** amount of the item.

Due to the experience with the bully, my mom had prohibited me from taking my game to school, and so I left it at home.

By the time I got home, I took my game and decided to try it one more time.

I laid down in bed, took out my gameboy, and turned it on.

I redid everything I had done the previous night and thus the same thing happened again.

I felt my heart stop when the ghost appeared again. I wanted to turn off the game but couldn't… didn't want to.

…What if… What if that was Chacha's ghost?

My friend had gotten a weird looking box, but I got a ghost? Its name remained as Missingno however. Level 84. And its health bar was off the screen.

I was positive, that must have been Chacha trying to come back to me, it was the same level after all!

Instead of just running away, I had Golduck attack the ghost with surf. It didn't do much damage. The ghost then counter attacked with flame thrower. And that, half surprised me.

The moves that Chacha knew were Flamethrower, Fly, Fire Blast, and Swords Dance.

It was too much of a coincidence that the ghost that just appeared to know flamethrower… so I decided I would catch it.

For all I knew that could be Chacha trying to come back to me. I didn't think about it, I just went to the item box and threw my master ball at it. I couldn't let it get away. I named it Chacha and it joined my party.

It didn't have a description or info, so I just skipped it.

I saved my game, glad that I had Chacha back and turned it off. I set my gameboy next to my pillow and laid down, there was nothing for me to be afraid of anymore… it was only my friend coming back to me…right?

I closed my eyes, and drifted off.

Hours must have passed, because when I woke up it was dark again. I reached for my gameboy and decided to play some more. To spend some time with Chacha.

I turned on my game and continued from my last save.

I pressed start and opened the Pokemon box, to see that Chacha had taken the shape of a ghost sprite.

A sudden thought went off in my head. Why did the silphco not work? It was supposed to help me look past the ghost. I went through my items to see that it wasn't there. And that's when I remembered that I had stored it on the computer… because I had way too many items already.

I headed for the pokémon center and retrieved the silphco from my computer.

When that was done I opened up the pokémon box to see that the ghost was no longer there. It was replaced… by a picture of an animal sprite... and that… ladies and gentleman… scared me.

Not thinking about it anymore, I clicked on the summary for the new Chacha and didn't see the image of Chacha, my charizard… but instead, it was a patch of flowers.

With fear increasing bit by bit, I decided it was time to save and turn off the game. I did not want to mess with the game anymore.

But when I turned off the game, the screen didn't go blank. Instead, I saw that the menu box opened. Puzzled I tried turning off the game again, but this time the selector made its way to the Pokemon Box.

My voice died in my throat…What the heck was going on?

The box opened and I saw that Chacha's sprite had changed once again, this time the animal sprite was not moving cheerfully as it had been before. It had full health, however… it was not moving…it was just standing there… as if staring at me... The selector made its way to Chacha's sprite, it opened the options and saw that it now knew the ability fly.

It selected it, and without me doing anything my sprite jumped into the now deformed collection of sprites, and headed off into the unknown location.

We were now in front of the tower in Lavender Town… and I don't know how to explain anymore, the cryptic familiar music began playing…

Tu-tu-tu-tu….Tu-tu-tu-tu…. Tuuuuuuuu~………

The screen froze, along with the music… and then went black.

I was beginning to get freaked out by what was happening so I frantically began to toggle the off/on switch. Up and down multiple times… but nothing would happen.

The screen came back on, and the intro played like always.

I selected my saved game and started.

…However I wasn't where I last saved. I was on the final room of the lavender town tower.

I tried going downstairs but there was something blocking the way. I tried using an escape rope, but my items were all gone.

The intense fear I felt at the time had left me frozen… stuck looking at the screen… helpless.

It may seem dumb to some of you. You may be thinking 'that's stupid, you could have just gotten up and walked away' or 'You could have taken off the game from the game boy,'. But you don't realize that when you're in fear, you don't think straight. You're just a mess of fear and have no clue on what you're supposed to do. Take in mind as well that I was only 10 at the time.

I couldn't do anything, so I began walking around the room.

I checked my pokémon box and saw I had no pokémon at all. I was alone…

There was a sprite of the old team rocket member that was there before. But when I talked to him the the text was all glitchy. I could only make out that it said 'G3t 0nt u0m'. I think it was at that point that I think my eyes began watering.

What the heck was going on? Why was I a-top of the tower? What happened to Chacha?

After saying that the screen flashed, and the Rocket sprite was gone. I was alone once again.

I made my way further into the room. And saw it there… The animal sprite, starting at me.

Was that Chacha? I approached the sprite.

Why was this happening? Did Chacha hate me because I abandoned him?

When I was standing in front of him I pressed 'A' to talk to him, but instead of a box of text opening I a screech began coming out of my gameboy. At the moment I couldn't put the sound into words… but now that I'm older I know it sounded a lot like the mosquito ring tone.  I instantly covered my ears, the sound was so loud and sharp that it made me wince.

The screen faded black, and deformed unreadable letters began forming on the screen.

The animal sprite came back into the screen… it seemed like it was hovering… slightly moving.

When suddenly I heard a familiar cry.

…

I felt my heart stop…

…was... was that Chacha?

The screen flashed a couple of times and the random battle music began playing.

Out of the corner of the screen came out a thing… I can only address it as a monstrosity. It seemed like a pile of static with a bones sticking about of it. Where those sprites came from? I don't know. But I felt a chord in my throat when I saw that. A combination of Kabutops and Aerodactyl's sprites, except in bone form. Along with the eyes of the ghost glowing a dark purple-ish black. MISSINGNO Level  84.

It made thing all the more scary because the background wasnt white, it was a dark void. I dont know if it was my imagination or not, but the air around me felt colder.

But then my player sprite reached for a pokeball and threw it… and out came the last thing I ever expected to see in the game.

It was the sprite of my Charizard…Chacha…

It let out its cry and the battle screen came up.

Nothing made sense at that point. But I knew what I had to do.

I wiped away my tears and decided to fight alongside Chacha. They were the same level, however the Ghost's healthbar was twice as long as Chacha's.

It didn't matter. I would not lose with Chacha with me.

I clicked on battle and decided to start things out with a flamethrower. It hit, but only took off close to a quarter of its health away. The ghost then used watergun and nearly took out half of Chacha's health away.

With wide eyes I realized the trouble I was in. If it knew any other water type moves I would be in trouble.

With that in mind, I used the other move that I knew would help me. Swords dance. If I increased my power enough I would be able to finish him off in one hit.

'Foe became cloaked in a harsh light'…Oh no! I had to get Chacha out of there.

Before Missingno had a chance to do anything I commanded Chacha to use fly, avoiding the deadly attack. And when it came crashing down, it took a good chunk of Ghost's hp.

I would finish things with the next move. I used fire blast.

But before I had a chance, Ghost himself used Fly and went upwards. Avoiding Chacha's strongest attack.

Knowing that Chacha was a flying type as well, I thought it would be best to have him to recieve the attack head on, while charging power once again for a final attack. I ordered for another swords dance, which further increased Chacha's strength.

But then the monster came crashing down… I had not expected for the hit to be critical.

I watched in horror as Chacha's hp dropped and dropped... I closed my eyes… I had messed up again… I failed my friend…  'Chacha…' I whispered sadly.

I opened my eyes to face reality… and couldn't believe my eyes.

It had stopped exactly at 5… Chacha had withstood it's attack.

I felt an involuntary smile spread on my face. I looked down at my gameboy and pressed the button that would finish this.

'Fire Blast' I commanded, and Chacha obeyed. He shot his star of fire.

I watched intently as Ghost's HP dropped down to 0 and crashed.

Chacha had gained a total of ********** exp, it leveled up until it reached level 100.

We had done it. We had beaten that thing… together.

I really felt tears strolling down my eyes as I watched Chacha. I was so glad to have my old friend back. We would be able to go in an adventure together again. Face the elite four and Gary, and have things go back to normal… how they used to be.

But then I heard it… or maybe it had been my imagination. Chacha used it's cry and I could have sworn I heard 'See ya later…Ashyboy'…

Before I had any chance to say anything, my gameboy turned off by itself.

And then… I opened my eyes. I awoke to see my mom fixing things around my room telling me it was time to get ready for school.  I turned my head to see my TV… Pokemon was on with Gary driving away on his red car away from Oak's laboratory.

I looked at the side of my bed to see my gameboy laying there. I quickly reached for it and turned it on.

My mom told me how I should be getting ready instead of playing, but I ignored her.

Everything seemed fine, the intro played normally. But when I got to the start screen… my saved game was gone…

The only options I had were 'New Game' and 'Options'…

…H-Had it been real? Had my victory with Chacha purged my game?

Had he done it in purpose?

A sad smile went through my face, a smile nonetheless. I knew what I had to do.

I clicked on new game… skipped past all the intro… and chose Charmander.

It could have been my hype to start things again. But I could have sworn Charmander's sprite looked slightly more happy that it normally did. Its eyes weren't glaring… they seemed more happy.

'Lets go Chacha… our new adventure awaits.'

And so… the adventures of Ashyboy and Chacha began anew.

I've often wondered
what it takes for someone
to become a 'somebody'.
and the effort
gone through to achieve that.

When you're a nobody;

You don't have to care about anyone or anything.
_{yet I still do.}

When you're a nobody,

You don't have to care about others opinions.
_{yet I still do.}

When you're a nobody,

You don't have to care about how you look.
_{yet I still do.}

When you're a nobody,

You don't have to care at all.
_{So why do I?}

Maybe I want to be a somebody.

Assignment #3: Character Description
Madeleine Patton
Character Thumbnail
   Milad Bessada is seventy-five years of age and stands at a stout five feet and four inches.  He has dark sunbaked skin and prominent wrinkles around his eyes and mouth – evidence of a lifetime of expressive conversation and warm smiles. There is a distinctiveness and authority to him – with his still-full head of snowy white hair and dark, intelligent eyes, he remains imposing despite an ever-more protruding pot-belly and hands he finds not quite as steady as they used to be. He speaks in carefully chosen vocabulary with a peculiar Arabic-British accent.

Character Backstory
   
   Milad was born in Cairo, Egypt, into a family of seven. He was not the oldest, nor the youngest, but one of the forgotten middle children. As a young man, Milad left his home and went to Cambridge University to study economics.  He learned two imperative things there; A) How to speak English fluently and B) That he absolutely abhorred economics.
   Upon his return to Cairo, a friend offered him a job in radio broadcast; a field he flourished in – after a life of struggling to be acknowledged among his six siblings, the radio finally allowed him to be heard. He became addicted to the attention and authority, soon moving from radio into television, directing several successful Egyptian television shows and later films. He grew to celebrity status, and became quite wealthy. This all changed however, when he moved to Canada, and his money and fame disappeared literally over night.
  Undaunted, Milad rebuilt himself in North America, working in menial jobs for years until he was able to find work in his passion once again.  He directed several Canadian TV shows including two seasons of Second City, and eventually a few Canadian feature films. A testament to his tenacity, he was able to build a career from nothing not once, but twice.
   Today, he lives on a quiet farm in Virginia with his second wife, Diana. His past fame, fortune and success haunts him there – the quiet atmosphere of the little farm is suffocating.  He craves to be busy, to be working, to be noticed. In the vast fields and the sea of cattle and tractors, he feels his voice has fallen quiet again; and that is the one thing he fears most – insignificance.
  His love for Diana is sadly his biggest flaw. She was a beautiful young dancer when he met her, and he left his wife for her. While gorgeous, she was manipulative, and worse yet, Milad was blind to it. Shortly after they were married, Diana began pushing for larger and larger acts of devotion from him. When her dancing career began to slip, she asked him to create a restaurant where she could have shows every evening, so he spent all his time and money on building her a restaurant. Later, she demanded he make a movie for her, so he wrote a film about her, starring her, full of enormous dance sequences she could preform for a movie he called The Search for Diana. She wanted a horse, so he bought her a farm.  He blindly obliged her every command, pouring countless amounts of money, time and devotions to her flights of fancy. Blind to any and all flaws, to this day he still refers to her strictly as “BA”, which stands for “Beautiful Angel”. Despite all of this, she has always been aloof and cool towards him.  Milad’s obsession with Diana roots back to his drive to be heard and noticed – for forty years he has been crusading for her acknowledgement, even after he already gained it from the rest of the world. Milad’s thirst for attention is his most enormous downfall as well as the trait he owes his success to.
   Milad is a rather odd man – he tends to “direct life” at times. He loves to feeling of control so much that he attempts to direct his children’s lives much the way he would a movie.  He also has a strange hatred for “ugly people”. Often at restaurants or public places he will stare at strangers and then lean over to whomever is with him to mutter something along the lines of, “Why do ugly people even leave their houses, they are such eye sores.”  When he is driving, he also has a tendency to yell Arabic swears at other drivers, but they often translate to ridiculous strings of random insults such as, “Your mother was a donkey-wildebeest-dog and you are as stupid as the pavement!” at their mildest.
Character Story
   
    Milad twirled a silver fork between his thumb and forefinger, waiting for his wife to set the table.  His daughter and her two children were visiting for Ontario – he’d been planning their stay for months. Building an itinerary practically planned down to the second.  It embarrassed him now as he looked at the two bored, sleepy children and the daughter who was constantly distracted with her work.     Diana came from the kitchen carrying a big bowl of salad that she placed in the middle of the table, and then handed out plates.
    “Thank you, BA,” he beamed as he received his plate, trying to catch her eye with his.  She gave him a withering look and sat at the end of the table, two chairs over from him.  To an outsider their marriage might seem strained, but to be honest it had always been that way.  Diana was always as distant and aloof as the cats she loved so much, it was part of what made her so fascinating to in his eyes.
    His family began to serve themselves from a plethora of barbecued corn and various meats as well as the salad that was just added to the table.  He’d spent all afternoon barbecuing an over-abundance of food and watched the others eat for a moment before serving himself, letting the satisfaction of a job well done take hold.  He’d been planning the food Maissa and her children would eat on their first night since they’d confirmed they were coming.  It seemed to be a critical success, five out of five stars.
    Milad picked at his salad as he remembered when he could actually worry about what would be a “critical success”. Nothing could replace the exhilaration of his work being thrust into the world and thrown back at him with the perspective of a film critic tacked on. He could still feel the thrill of a team hanging on his every word on set, the celebration after a shooting, the pride he felt in his work.  He remembered being busy – he remembered being in demand and sought out.  Now what was he?
   He’d spent months planning a trip for his two Grandchildren who were dragged there against their will.  How pathetic.  Was he really that desperate for something to control?  
    This farm life was killing him.  Diana went out in the day to teach Yoga and left him alone and bored.  He had never wanted to retire, he’d always likened himself to a shark in that if he stopped moving, he’d drown. And drowning he was.  The farm had been Diana’s idea - she’d wanted to buy a pony, but quickly given up on the idea. Not quickly enough, however, to avert Milad buying her an enormous farmland property in southern Virginia to keep it on. He sighed.  What he really wanted was to make another movie.
   He’d made several trips to Cairo to get into contact with old friends in the film industry, but none of them seemed interested in a new project.  Even after most all of his contacts declined, he continued to make trips to Cairo under the false pretense of film projects.  All he really wanted was to feel the spirit of the city again. He’d stay there for months on end, soaking in the activity in the streets and the parties and the people. Everything this farm was not.  He loved his wife more than anything in the entire world, but he found himself straying farther from her, spending longer and longer periods of time in Cairo away from her.  It was the first time in his life that he had ever had to physically choose between his wife and his passion because they’d always been one in the same.  Recently they’d split into two separate entities and he was distraught at the thought of letting either one go. He’d worked so hard for both.
    His daughter, Maissa looked up from her plate, frowning down at his own.
   “Daddy, you haven’t touched your food,” she commented, “is everything alright?”
   He wore the mask of a carefully rehearsed smile.
   “I’m fine, my dear,” Milad chuckled hallowly, “just thinking. Nothing for you to worry about. How do you like the steak?”
   ‘I’m fine’, ‘nothing for you to worry about’, these were his lines on the script of dinner, weren’t they? There was no point in going off script just because they weren’t true.

"What are you waiting for? Get in there!!"
I shoot a glare at the potato attached to my portal device. Yeah, I know I've been sitting here in this corner for at least fifteen minutes, but I'm just not ready to face him yet. All I have left to do is run down the hallway and get into the funnel thing. Then I have to face the fact that Wheatley has turned against me. Is it really possible that only a few days ago I was helping him wire himself into that awful mainframe machine? It feels like it's been months.
I knew that machine was a mistake from the beginning.
I let the nagging voice coming from the potato drift away and closed my eyes to remember back to before any of this insanity with the potato GLaDOS and Wheatley going crazy.

"At least she can't touch us back here." Something inside me leaped at the sound of that. Finally, a place where SHE wasn't watching me constantly. I paused on the catwalk, just taking a moment now that I didn't have to run away from her. As I was standing there, the lights started going down. Something tightened around my heart as the darkness fell over where I stood, leaving me completely sightless.
It's not that I was afraid of the dark. It was more the helplessness of it. If I couldn't see, I couldn't do much of anything, considering the treacherous footing. I felt around for the railing on the catwalk, trying to find something for a bit more stability. It suddenly occurred to me that Wheatley was talking. I instinctively swiveled my body in the direction of his voice.
"Just hold on. Don't move." There was rustling fabric, like he was checking his pockets for something. "I have a plan. But it IS bloody dangerous. But here we go."
A yelp from Wheatley, accompanied by a click, and then I was being blinded by sudden light. I threw a hand up to shield my eyes. "Wheatley!"
He didn't seem to hear me.
"They told me… if I ever turned this flashlight on… I would die!" He lowered the flashlight from pointing directly in my eyes and shined it around the area. I shook my head; partly in disbelief that he actually thought that turning on a flashlight would kill him, partly in amusement at his tone.
He continued to ramble. I couldn't help but smile a bit at his need to fill the silence. I slid down to sit on the bottom of the catwalk, leaning my back against the railing, letting my head drop down. I wasn't sure why… but I found that tears were welling up in my eyes. Pretty soon I was actually crying, albeit quietly.
"Oh and over here! I can make the light go almost anywhere, wow! And—Forte?" I didn't look up.
He knelt next to me. "Are you alright, luv? Why are you crying?"
I shook my head. "I shouldn't be. We need to keep moving." I wiped the tears away. "We need to keep moving, I know." I tried to get up.
"It's alright, Forte. She can't see us. No one's watching… we're safe. Alone." Normally I wasn't much of an emotional person, but for some reason, right then? I lost it. I completely broke down. Before I knew what happened, he was hugging me, doing his best to comfort me despite his clear ineptness at that. Something about it worked anyway, if only because it was so funny.

Back in the moment, GLaDOS the Potato is chastising me again for my "idleness" and my "inability to perform a simple task". I just roll my eyes at her.
"I don't have to listen to you. You can't do anything to me anymore."
"I'll have you kn—fwshhh." The little yellow light on the potato dims, showing that she taxed her power resource too far. Good. At least now she's quiet.
I let my mind drift again, this time to a more recent memory.

"Wheatley, are you sure this is a good idea?" I whispered.
He finished attaching one of the sticky wire connectors to his temple before replying.
"Of course it is!" he said brightly. "This'll give my control of the whole place once we get it to recognize me!"
He tapped the connector he had just attached and winced as the mechanics took hold. I still had my doubts about the plan.
"Of course there is still the chance this could just fry all the circuits in my brain, but the chances are really not that…" I tuned him out then. Sometimes I really wished he didn't always feel the need to fill every second of silence. Failing that, some duct tape would have been nice. He continued to ramble while I just stood there, frozen.
Something in the completely nonchalant way he was listing off all the worst case situations that could come of that brilliant plan of his aggravated me. In that moment, something in me just snapped. I completely forgot that I was supped to be stealthy and whispering.
"Wheatley, stop it!" I nearly shouted.
He jumped, nearly dropping the cable he had been fidgeting with. He was silent though, which I was glad of even though his shocked expression hurt a little to see.
"How can you be so calm about it?" That time I really was shouting. "You're going on and on about all the ways this could kill you! Electrocution, liquefaction of your brain, heaven only knows what else, and you expect me to just be okay with it?"
I was full on ranting and raving like the town crazy by that point, complete with the pacing and wild gesturing. "If this completely insane plan doesn't work and it kills you, I'm next! I don't know how to get out of here! She will vaporize me! And never mind me! What about you? You could—could—" my voice was beginning to break. Frustrated angry tears spilled down my cheeks. I was completely out of control.
"I don't… don't want you to die…" My voice was soft again, and the tears will still flowing.
I wasn't sure how Wheatley would react to my outburst, so I looked down and away and just let the tears run themselves out.
"Forte…" Clearly there was far more in that word than should have been able to fit. I made myself look up, and as I did so, I realized I had never yelled like that before. When I finally looked him in the face, I was slightly surprised by his expression, but only slightly.
It was a mixture of disbelief, uncertainty and a touch of hurt. He made like he was going to talk a couple of times, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.
Maybe it was just residual hysteria in my system, but something about the way the expression combined on his face made me start laughing. Before I could even think to stop it, I was laughing harder than I had in a long time.
Wheatley was rightly even more confused, but apparently the laughter was contagious, because he slowly because to nervously laugh along with me. Pretty soon both of us were laughing so hard we couldn't breathe.
I got a hold on myself finally, and found that I wasn't scared anymore. I smiled at Wheatley and picked up the wires that had fallen to the floor…

"Okay, I'm back." GLaDOS' voice jerks me out of my mind. I look at her, annoyance faded since she shorted out. "If we don't get in there the whole place is going to explode! Do I really need to remind you?"
"Alright, alright, I'm going." I stand up slowly. Despite the very true fact that we would most certainly die if I did nothing, I really don't want to go in there. But I steel myself and set up the portals. It takes me a moment of hesitation and a deep breath before I can force myself to get going. Amazingly, GLaDOS has said nothing through all this. I step onto the slick orange surface, gather myself, tighten my grip on the portal gun, and run.
GLaDOS rambles about putting her back in her body while we float along, but I'm not really listening. I'm staring into the bottomless abyss that is Aperture, but I'm not really seeing. I jump out of the funnel carrying us easily once we've reached the other side of the room and start walking again.
I see the corrupt cores before GLaDOS says anything, but her explanation is what tells me what they are. We find the way to the elevator, and I can't help thinking of how Wheatley kept looking down when I'd walked a similar way with him. Again I'm struck by how little time has really passed since then, but how long it feels to have been.

The final fight with the bombs (God, the bombs, I hate them so much) passes in a blur of concentration. I'm crying, yet somehow calm by the time the computer is telling me I have to press the button. I don't want to do it, but I also don't want to die in a fiery explosion. I drop a portal on the only remaining spot of gel and run to the stalemate resolution annex. I aim and shoot the other portal above the button and charge back to the first portal. I drop in and slam my hand down on the button…
The next thing I know I'm flying through the air. I crash hard into the unforgiving floor and lay there for a moment, my vision blurred and my hearing turned into an echo. I stagger to my feet, fumbling for the portal gun. I look up, for some reason, staring the man in the moon full in the face.
"Oh you are kidding…" I say to myself. But then I remember the gel. It's made of moon rocks! I don't know what has seized control of me, but I aim the portal gun upwards and pull the orange portal trigger.
There is horrible sound like the universe itself is being rent in two and I hear Wheatley shouting. I get dragged along the floor and fall through the portal, catching hold of him at the last second.
"We're in space!" he shouts. As if I couldn't tell. That space-obsessed core crashes into him and I almost lose my grip on him. By some miracle I grab on again, tighter this time.
"Let go!" Wheatley says. I'm not sure how I'm able to hear him. Must be the air rushing by us. "I'm still connected! I can pull myself in! I can still fix this!"
Dread fills me when I hear GLaDOS. "I already fixed it, and you are not coming back!"
A scream tears from me as Wheatley is wrenched away from me. "Grab me, grab me! GRAB ME!" But I can't. He is soaring away through the stars. GLaDOS begins to pull me back in through the portal. I look at the claw holding me, my emotions raw.

Suddenly the rushing air and my own thoughts go silent, fading into the background. All I can hear is my heartbeat, pounding like mad in my ears. It just gets louder and louder and only one thought remains in my head. I'm not letting him go. This world means nothing to me without him.
My fingers rush to scrabble at the claw GLaDOS is holding me with. I struggle, trying desperately to get loose. 'Hang on, Wheatley'. I think. 'I'm coming for you.'
If anything, her grip just gets tighter, and I'm starting to lose feeling in my arm. But maybe that's just from oxygen deprivation. With a burst of adrenaline and determination, I find sudden strength and finally manage to wrench myself away from the robotic claw. I'm flying back through the vacuum of air. The oxygen dissipates around me faster than I expected, and I know I've just committed suicide even if I'm not dead yet.
By some miracle however, I am flung by the force of the air being pulled from Aperture a fair distance, crashing into Wheatley. I know I won't have more than a few seconds, and I can't speak in the vacuum, so I just grab onto his arm so I don't float away from him, hoping he knows I let go for him.
Seconds pass. Then several more… Wait a minute.
"How are we… not dead?"
He smiles sheepishly. "Something else they told me would kill me if I turned it on."
I look at him curiously and he holds up a small box with two switches on it. "It's, uh… well I don't know what it's called to be honest. Makes a field thing and fills it with air."
I stare at it, but not in disbelief. By this point it would take a lot for me not to believe something.
Wheatley takes my silence as… well, I'm not sure what he takes it as, but as is his pattern, he feels the need to fill that silence. He points at one switch.
"This one is the main power. Takes a minute to warm up so it's different from actually making it run. And then this one—" He points at the other switch and accidently flicks it off, the air disappearing in a split second. I cling to his arm, suffocating in the vacuum. He fumbles with the device for a moment and flicks it on, the field and the air returning quickly.
I glare at him, trying to catch a full breath of air.
"Sorry about that, luv! Silly me! Gotta remember… turning off the air: bad."
I can't really stay mad at him. I hug him tightly. He makes a surprised noise.
"I'm so sorry. I was bossy… and monstrous… and I'm sorry. Genuinely, I am."
"Shut up, I forgive you." Finally he hugs me in return and we stay floating there in comfortable silence for a change.

"Uh… Forte. There is one more problem... we're still stuck… in space."
"SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!"

A Word on Words

I’ve never been very good with words.
I spend so much time searching for the right ones,
For that one perfect phrase to describe a feeling.
Slippery as a sunfish it incessantly escapes me,
Or gets hooked upon my lip.

It’s difficult to say what I mean,
Let alone mean what I say.
And words make it so much harder;
Ineffectual, impersonal and imprecise as they are.

I might say I love a steaming pot of tea in the morning,
Or a big cozy sweater on a winter’s day.
But sweaters and tea don’t quite add up to how I feel about you.

You might say a rose is pretty,
Or a sunset.
But I am hardly a flower or a sinking star.

I wish there were a way to pinpoint these feelings,
To let you know exactly what they are.
Instead I tread water futilely,
Drowning in the vagueness of language;
I simply choose silence.

Perhaps worst of all about words,
Is that they can lose their luster so devastatingly quickly.
I want meaning to permeate time; to last forever –
But I know it will decay along with the words that so poorly convey it.

Tea will always cool, sweaters will wear out;
Roses lose their petals and sunsets waste away to night.
Words fade with time, taking part of us with them,
And one day they will inevitably mean nothing.

We are such perishable items,
Dragged down by the impermanence of what we say,
All we have is now.

This second,
This moment,
This heartbeat,
This breath;
It has to be enough.

I’ll be your sunset as long as you’ll be my sweater,
And while blackened mountains and ruined garments may one day sing our defeat,
I’d like to hold hands with you until those moth-holes and horizon lines swallow us whole.

’Eh? And I thought I was acting weird.’ Holding back a small spurt of laughter at her patched companion’s less-than-informative remark, Ameena bent her head, licking her chest as she spoke again. “Fine, cover up all the compliments the she-cats have given you,” she mused calmly, sitting up again and turning her questioning gaze on the tom. He still seemed preoccupied, which made her tilt her head a small amount, silently asking the question that was threatening to spill from her parted jaws- What’s on your mind? Deciding it was best to keep her mouth shut, the tortoiseshell mentally shook herself, twitching her ears forward as he thought about how to properly answer her question. Was his backstory really so bad?
As the Green-Air began speaking, the young she-cat instantly felt bad for asking something so personal. Of course, she hadn’t necessarily inquired about his entire history, just where he’d been born… but she didn’t quite mind being entrusted with this little story as much as she should, considering the circumstances. It felt somewhat honorary, almost. But that wasn’t important—Sylvester didn’t seem too satisfied with the snippet of information he’d given her, and, out of habit, the Pink-Orange-Light decided to do something about that.
Slowly stepping forward, the tortoiseshell lightly pressed her nose to the tom’s fluffy cheek, heat rushing to her own face as she did so. “Being born outside the Tribe isn’t such a bad thing,” Ameena meowed quietly, finally forcing herself to take a miniscule step away from the other. Her sea-green gaze lifted to his handsome face, the tortoiseshell swallowed back the nervousness she’d adapted after having voluntarily getting so close to her companion. “Obviously someone like myself would say that, but.. it’s true. Think about it, Sylvester- even though you were brought into Air-Tribe from your life outside the Tribes, you’re sincerely respected here. You’ve been trusted enough to not only become a guard, the protector of a Tribe, but you were given your very own apprentice.” Pausing for just a brief moment, Ameena flashed the tom a smile. “History isn’t what matters so long as you’re willing to make the future better with the time you’ve got in the present, right?”

He was okay to tell her, she was from the same Tribe no? Why should he hide this from her? But, the second he had stopped talking, his whiskers dropped. He regretted telling her this because now, he couldn’t help but remember that his parents had done so much for him.. and in return, he had caused their disappearance.. their ‘death’. Sylvester had never liked the idea of thinking that his parents had passed away since no one had found their body after the earthquake. But, why should he remain hopeful when he clearly knew that hope was unattainable any more. Not for that. And, as the his pale gaze began to cloud, a touch on his cheek caused the tom to quiver. His eyes fluttered for a moment as he felt hot breath ruffle his whiskers, before focusing his pupils on her. Had she sensed his sudden grief? ‘Oh, how careless of me,’ he thought, not used to being so down in front of a lady. He blinked gratefully at her, silently thanking her for the concern. Her words were full of truth and he deeply understood her. He had been lucky enough to remain focus on his job, training Warrun and even making friends with other tribe cats. He could still remember how nervous he was with the idea of leaving Air Tribe’s territory. How foolish he was, to waste all his adolescent life isolated from the world outside of their borders. He cracked a smile, licking flat the fur on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Ameena,” he began with, then paused as he continued to flatten his pelt. And after a few strokes, the tom elevated his eyes and met with the tortoiseshell she-cat’s. “And I could say the same thing to you. No matter what you’ve gone through, no matter how hard it is, you will always have your tribemates to help you. You’ve been sent to Air tribe for a reason, don’t forget that. And it’s alright to keep fond memories close to us. They keep us going,” he winked at her, signalling her to follow him still.
“What do you say we head back to camp and find something to eat? Hm--uh?!” and as he was about to say more, the ground beneath them trembled, shaking both cats vigorously as though they were standing on unstable grounds.  

Sylvester did seem rather upset- so much so that even the “always-looking-on-the-bright-side” Ameena was disheartened. This tom didn’t seem too confident in his backstory, or maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, the brown-and-white cat was down, and the female didn’t like that at all. ’I don’t understand what he’s remembering that’s so bad, or maybe he just regrets telling me in general, but I’m not going to let him feel bad.’ His acknowledging blinking made her smile just a tad, making her feel at least slightly better. She only hoped he did, too- and that wish was backed by the smile the tom-cat gave her.
“You’re welcome,” she purred, thankful that he seemed better now. The young she-cat silently watched her companion groom his pelt, thinking about how ridiculous she must look. Not only had Sylvester originally found her trapped up a tree, but her fur was probably all ruffled from that experience… shaking her pelt in embarrassment, the tortoiseshell pawed at the ground, looking up just as the tom did. He had beautiful eyes- even if she hadn’t already found herself completely attracted to him, Ameena wouldn’t have been able to deny how unique his eyes were. ’I’ve never seen eyes as unique as his,’ she silently commented to herself, finding the heat returning to her face once more. She tried to understand the emotion behind his gaze, then decided that was prying- something Ameena probably shouldn’t do any more of.
The tom’s next words made the Pink-Orange-Light grin once more, and she bowed her head as she began following him again. “I am thankful to have been welcomed into the Tribes, after having dreamed of doing so all of my kithood. I just hope I can fit in as well as you seem to have.” At the mention of food, the tortoiseshell could feel her stomach nearly clawing at her from the inside. Letting out a short giggle, Ameena nodded at the offer. “Yes, I think food sounds pretty good right now,” she laughed, the action quickly being cut short as the ground began to quake. The she-cat felt her eyes involuntarily widen at the sudden movement, and found herself rooted to the unstable earth, too paralyzed to speak or act.

Everything was going great, he had even started to grow calm again when the quake suddenly shook that feeling off. The brown and white tabby dug his claws down, his head swinging in all the directions. What was going on? The seconds turned to minutes as his mind whirled in confusion. Lightly, he looked at Ameena, the she-cat was rooted to the ground, fright clearly drawn upon her face, her body.
“Ameena!” he gasped, dashing to stand over her. He pressed his frame close to hers, instincts wanting him to protect her from harm. But as soon as he braced himself for whatever could fall on him, the trembles ebbed away, letting a long silence to roam undisturbed over the land. It took a moment for the tom to registered what had occurred and when he did, he couldn’t believe that it happened.
“Are you okay?” he finally said, straightening himself up and giving her enough space to stand as well. He couldn’t believe it. The earth had shaken once more.. just like before. Though, it wasn’t as brutal as it once did. Did anyone else felt the quake? His ears flicked back, the hair on his spine standing on end.

The pretty she-cat tried with all her might just to shut her eyes and drown everything out. It was all going to end now anyway, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t she just shut her eyes and die peacefully, instead of watching it all crumble before her? Would she die slowly? Great spirits, she certainly hoped not. Thoughts began to whirl around in her head now—images and voices, little scenes playing out. She could see her own paws, minuscule though they were, reaching up at the pretty face of a blue-eyed calico she-cat. “Suraa!” she purred, for once happy to see her mother. The she-cat gave her a tired smile, then was replaced by a young-looking black-and-white she-cat. Her eyes, too, were as blue as the sky, and held a gleam of mischief. “I’m gonna get you, furball!” she hissed, pouncing at the then-kitten-aged Ameena. All too soon that figure grew tremendously, transforming into a darker, heavily-scarred tom, laying beside his younger daughter with a playful look on his aged face. His eyes matched hers in color, but held more love and wisdom than Ameena had ever recognized in any cat before. “I love you, Papa,” the young she-cat mewed, nuzzling into her father.
Just as soon as the memories came, they were gone, and the healer found herself blankly staring at the ground below her. Everything was dead silent, and she realized the earth had stopped shaking. ’I’m…. alive?’ The thought that came to her was quickly replaced by the acknowledgement of some presence rather close to her. Finally able to move, the she-cat looked up, blinking at the patched figure beside her. “S-Sylvester?” she choked out, noticing for the first time how badly she was shaking when the tom moved away from her. He said something, but she couldn’t really register it. Unable to understand anything about what had just happened, Ameena quickly moved to stand beside him again, not even caring about personal space as she nuzzled into the tabby-and-white tom-cat’s chest.

He noticed how shaky she was. He couldn’t imagine at what point this event could have affected the young pretty she-sat. Actually.. yes, he could. He had experienced that same threat when he was still a young apprentice.. Unfortunately for him, he had to go through it alone. He was so scared at that time that he couldn’t even bring himself to pad back into the borders. He had to wait a whole night, alone, before being able to travel back to Air Tribe’s territory. At least he had survived. His parents in the other hand, had not. Did his father experienced the same fright, the same feeling of helplessness? Had he died while protecting his mate, just like Sylvester tried to protect Ameena? His eyes flickered with fear as the questions tumbled in his mind. This was terrible. Will another tremor strike? His heart was beating rapidly inside his chest, threatening to burst out at any moment.
“Ameena we have to--!!” his words were cut off as he felt her frame press against his. His breath got caught up in his throat, his eyes now focused on her. The she-cat looked terrorized. He felt guilty somehow, powerless to mother nature’s wrath.
“Ameena,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he blinked down at her. “It’s okay. I’m here. Everything will be alright, I promise,” he murmured, pressing his muzzle to her cheek, running it over her own muzzle before letting it rest on her forehead.
“I’m here,” he repeated quietly, closing his eyes as he allowed her to press closer. The least he could do was to reassure her, let her know that the worst had passed.  

Sylvester’s soft fur was more than comforting to the adolescent-aged she-cat, who was still trembling a little despite the warmth her companion was offering. Just his presence was enough to calm her down for the most part, though she didn’t exactly know why. Sure, the tom was attractive and all, but that didn’t explain why she felt so protected by him. Maybe it was just his position as a guard? That could be it.
Slowly but surely Ameena began to regain her senses; She could hear Sylvester’s soft murmurings as he tried to soothe her and smell his wonderful scent as the side of her face was pressed against his strong chest. The touch of his muzzle against her cheek and maw was more than enough to make her regain the feeling of heat in her face- yes, this tom was doing a wonderful job at easing her mind. As the Green-Air rested his muzzle on her head, the young she-cat nuzzled under his chin a little, shutting her eyes to the world once more and letting him reassure her with smooth words.
“Thank you,” she purred quietly, seemingly forgetting that this tom was practically a stranger to her. Though, as she thought about it, she could help but dismiss that label- she’d known Sylvester less than a day, yet already he had saved her twice, had he not? He was no stranger at all, in that sense, no. This Green-Air was a friend, and was already proving to be a good one at that. The thought eased the rest of Ameena’s nerves, and she quickly licked the tom’s muzzle before taking a hesitant step away from him. Her sea-green eyes travelled up to his face, holding his gaze in an attempt to say everything she wanted to. Instead she let her gaze fall again, dropping it to her paws as she shuffled them on the ground in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she mewed, flattening her ears against her skull.

As a guard, the tom had devoted most of his life to keep his tribemates safe from harm. He would do anything to save a life. He had trained for that, it was like instinct for him. Even now, his body pushed him to protect the young adolescent, even though a part of him wanted to save himself. Natural instinct would have normally forced him to run, but that wasn’t what a guard was trained to do. The guard inside of him was stronger than instinct, and therefore, he needed to stay, make sure that she was all right. Her trembling body slowly began to stop, her flank heaving more slowly as well. She was calming down, that was a good thing. He smiled, letting his muzzle pressed on her head, waiting for her to completely calm down. Internally, he hoped with all his heart that nothing would appear to interrupt this moment. The last thing they needed was more chaos. He felt her nuzzle make its way under his chin, her actions bringing butterflies in the tom’s stomach. Once more, his eyes fluttered slightly, his gaze staring absently on the path ahead. Rarely had he felt this before.. This strong desire to keep someone safe, no matter what. Her scent invaded him, like dawn’s sweet fragrance. He breathed it in, taking comfort in her presence. He was probably the one trying to calm her, but he couldn’t deny being nervous himself, and this was all he needed to relax; the presence of a she-cat close by. Not any kind of she-cat, a she-cat from Air-Tribe, a healer at that. Boy was he lucky~ As he was about to speak again, a movement quieted him down. The she-cat was pushing away, but licked him before she did. The silence went once more undisturbed as he gazed down at her, his pale yellow and green eyes drawn into hers until she broke eye contact. ‘Sorry?’ He tilted his head.
“Heh,” he chuckled softly, brushing his muzzle lightly over her shoulder.
“No need to apologize, unless you were the one causing this tremor,” he teased lightheartedly. He got to his paws and swept his entourage with narrowed eyes. Nothing seemed to have changed. Perhaps the earthquake wasn’t of a high enough magnitude to cause any damage. He hoped it was the case.  

The fact that the semi-fluffy tom had yet to reject her actions sparked an almost-chaotic sense of confusion in the younger feline. Was Sylvester just being overly nice and not saying anything because he knew she was frightened? Was he himself too scared to risk moving again? Or was there something more meaningful behind his lack of action? Whatever it was, Ameena couldn’t help but feel grateful, relieved, and… well, a number of things. The Green-Air was being so kind to a cat he’d just met that same day, and that fact made the Pink-Orange-Light rejoice a little on the inside.
All giddy thoughts aside, though, the tortoiseshell was still pretty embarrassed by her most recent actions. Nuzzling, licking, and snuggling up to a cat she’d just met? That was rude of her, wasn’t it? Of course, those actions weren’t symbolic of things she wasn’t trying to imply. Her attraction to the tom was more than obvious, and it was beginning to become about more than just his good looks. But, for all she knew, this tom could have a mate or something. If he did he would tell her, wouldn’t he? Or maybe it wasn’t any of her business. She’d never seen him with a she-cat before, though, so maybe he was romantically available.
’What are you thinking? You just had a near-death experience and all you can think about is how gushy you’re allowed to be with a guard?’
Mentally slapping herself, Ameena shook her pelt again and looked up at Sylvester as her friend softly touched her shoulder, striking up another rumbling purr in the she-cat as he brought her away from her ridiculous thoughts and back to earth. His words made her giggle a little, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the handsome tom. “Of course not,” she mused, following his lead by glancing around the neutral land. Was another disaster going to strike them soon? She sure hoped not… the last thing the female needed was Sylvester saving her butt yet again. “Do you think it’s safe now?” she inquired cautiously, glancing back at the patched tabby tom. She hadn’t the slightest doubt that he was going to try and reassure her, but she was curious as to how he really felt about that matter.

The white tabby tomcat padded forward then sideways, analyzing their surroundings with eyes peeled. Nothing yet to be reported, though it struck him as odd. What could have provoked the earth to quake? Had any other cat noticed? His ears swivelled back to Ameena, the pretty tortoiseshell she-cat had spoke to him. With a comforting smile, the tom answered, his voice tranquil.
“Well, nothing seems out of the ordinary. So far so good. I suggest we head back to camp now, to make sure no one’s hurt. Maybe our leader will inform us of further information about the matter. Yes, I should report back to him,” he meowed, a little hesitant to do so. He would be far more comfortable letting know Ordelis rather than Aiolos. Not that he didn’t trust the tom, but simply because the dark tabby deputy was around longer than their newly appointed-- well.. self appointed leader. With a little shake of his head, Sylvester gestured the pink-orange healer to follow.
“Stay close in case we get another ‘surprise’,” he murmured, chuckling lightly with amusement. The green-air followed the worn path back towards Air tribe, his head high and ears alert. He couldn’t hide still being wary of their surroundings, not trusting the calmness that had settled down on the forest. But, surely he wasn’t expected what he was now witnessing. Halting abruptly in his tracks, Sylvester froze in shock as he stared down at the ground, a clean fissure stretching towards the vast blue. Something felt wrong, out of place. Following the cracks with unblinking eyes, Sylvester gazed straight towards the end of their land, the point where the water met the earth. It was an easy sight for they were exiting the forest to enter the meadow leading to their territory.
“Ameena.. look at that. This fissure leads to the ocean. Something seems off.. The Watch Point... it’s gone.” He gasped in disbelief. “It’s really gone..”

Ameena silently nodded as the tom gave her slightly reassuring words. It wouldn’t be possible for anyone to completely comfort her as far as this matter went, but Sylvester was right—things did seem to be quite alright at the moment. She’d never experienced an earthquake before, assuming that was what had just happened (what else could it possibly be?), and now that she had, the tortoiseshell was positive she never wanted to relive that experience. It was nearly as frightening as watching her father get mauled to death by a hungry fox—and she had been rather young then. Now nearing adult age, Ameena couldn’t believe she had been terrified like that once again. I thought that was just something kits did- being completely paralyzed with fear… how embarrassing.
Shaking past her more-or-less narcissistic thoughts, the young she-cat continued to closely follow her tabby-striped companion. He’s just as nervous as I am, she realized quietly, noticing the way he continuously looked around, as if something was going to jump out at them at any moment. For all they knew, maybe something would. To be completely honest, it wouldn’t have surprised her one bit, after the two events that had already occurred that day. Sylvester laughed her thoughts aloud as they trekked on, confirming her suspicion about the tom being just as nervous as herself. “Maybe you should stick close to me,” she laughed, twitching one of her ears. “I think it’s about time I saved your tail today, eh?”
Her bemusement quickly subsided as the Green-Air stopped dead in his tracks, and she paused beside him, following his yellow-green gaze as he discovered the surprise end of the peninsula they called home. This part of Nandryx was a lot longer… did the earthquake do this? Flattening her ears, the Pink-Orange-Light pressed closer to her friend, hoping to at least slightly comfort him. This had been his home much longer than it had been hers, and perhaps the Watch Point had been a sentimental landmark to him. “This is bad,” she meowed, voicing the first, most obvious thought that came to her mind. Her sea-green eyes studied the fissure, and her heart skipped a beat at the next thought that arose-- One of the Tribe’s territories or camps could meet this fate at any moment.

Sylvester was at a loss; empty of words, empty of thoughts. He didn’t know how to react to this discovery. Was this fissure done by the recent earthquake they just experienced? Or was it done during the first big one where they discovered the underground home to Shadow tribe, the forgotten power? He couldn’t tell. It was beyond him. Either way, it had probably resulted to the Watch Point’s destruction. Well then.. it couldn’t possibly be the results of the first earthquake. That one had occurred many months ago, before the war even started. He turned to look at Ameena, her expression revealing his exact thoughts; ‘what was happening to Nandryx?!’ Quickly, he shoved his bewilderment away and recovered a steady stare.
“It’s really bad,” he agreed, pausing as he thought of his next chosen words. “I don’t know what could have happened.. but many cats enjoyed that part of the land. It was a nice place. Free for all to visit. I really hope it didn’t collapsed just now. If so, I pray that no cat was hurt.” He sighed, shaking his head sadly. Yes. This place was special for him. That was where he had taken Lily to, the black-water who lived closer to the Moonfish Lake along with her sister. He feared for her safety. He hoped she was alright. Though right now, he needed to report this to Ordelis.
“Come now, we need to hurry!” he urged.

Silence wrapped around the pair of cats like ivy tendrils on a tree. It wasn’t too unwelcome, really—Ameena was too focused on the matter at hand to really care. This was the first time today she’d found herself not even acknowledging the cat beside her, but Sylvester’s charm had to be set aside so they could try to figure out something to do… even if there wasn’t much, if anything, they could do. We need to tell Aiolos.. or, well, any cat who’s got some sort of power. The Yellow-Light was right. The Tribes need to leave as soon as possible.
Sylvester’s words brought her out of her thoughts once again, and the dark she-cat frowned at them. “I sure hope nobody was here… I know this was a popular spot, albeit one I never got the opportunity to visit. But I don’t want to think about some cats… falling to their deaths after that earthquake.” The tortoiseshell shook her head, shuddering at the thought, and was glad when the Green-Air made it clear that they had to leave. Without hesitation, Ameena turned and took off towards Air-Tribe’s camp, her fluffy tail streaming behind her and her star-shaped necklace bouncing against her chest with each stride.