Quintin had a little itch near his ear as he walked, and scratched at it lightly. He didn't want to tug on his multiple piercings. He once ripped one off his right ear after tugging on it too long. Painful business, that was for sure. Tore off a chunk of his ear too, but they stitched that back up quick, since his parents freaked royally and rushed him to the hospital. No harm done, right? Now he had a funny looking scar. Quintin sometimes used it as a joke, saying that this is what happened to paranoid people, since it isn't the exactly the same shade of white as he is. Scared a lot of little kids by saying it was from another kid, that he ripped it off some other guy. Oh, his teenaged years. He smiled, remembering the good times he had back in high school. He wasn't exactly co operative, but did fairly well. Sure, he was a surefire rebel, and he got addicted to things, but those were in the back of his mind. Quin would block those memories out to remember the happy ones at all times.

Many people never realized how taxing it was to block out painful memories for long periods of time. Especially when he was kidnapped by a - NOPE! Not going there. He shook the thoughts, and kept walking. Until something tapped him on the shoulder. Now, Quintin is naturally a giddy kid, hyped up on caffiene all the time and slightly paranoid. Still. So he naturally jumped forward a good two feet, spinning to look at his assailant. He landed in a crouched position, like he had been taught countless times in Wrestling, and nearly bowled the person over when he realized who it was.

"Chrissy!" He straightened himself, smiling, then feigning extreme shock. "You KNOW I hate people sneaking up on me, but you still do it! Worst part is, I nearly tackled you! Which, I might add, would be the 3rd time I would have done that to you." He smiled brightly and took the step necessary to pull her into a hug. She was the only person that could, or would, ever understand him. And it wasn't that Quintin didn't share the same burden with her. They balanced each others' horrors out together, keeping each other sane and safe all at the same time. Calling her a best friend was an understatement. Most of his other friends were more like shallow cop outs of cardboard people, but he still loved them to bits too.

She could feel the memories of countless lives pulsing within her mind; it was all so . . . so very strange. All she felt, the only thing she was certain of now was what her responsibilities were as the Light Reaper; her past lives, her current life. . . . None of it mattered. Obligation bound her now; she had a purpose given to her that was far greater than anything she could have imagined. She wasn’t just a woman whose sole purpose was to be an idle doll who conformed to the whims of her parents, and eventual husband . . . should she ever have had one.

Even if she had no choice in her destiny, what fate had forced onto her, Sinéad did not care. The current vessel that bore the soul of the Light Reaper had been melded to be little more than a puppet to the impulses and wishes of others. The name ‘Sinéad’ was simply a title to her now, a name pasted onto the body that housed an ancient soul and she cared little what others referred to her as.

Her sole duty in the world was to protect humanity . . . she had no need for a human name. She was, after all, a simple marionette, even when she was reunited with her fellow Reapers. . . . Part of Sinéad wished she could really just erase herself, the persona that had developed over the last twenty years, and just make herself a clean slate, someone who could truly follow through with all she was told to do without insecurities or second thoughts. Deep within her countless lives; Sinéad could sense the same sentiments from all the vessels who had housed the soul, like herself they had yearned to not have a heart. All of them were like her . . . or at least, they had been when Fate’s dictations had been unveiled before them.

They wanted to forget, they wished to leave their hearts, minds, and emotions in the past with their human identities. The Light Reaper was one who wanted only to do their duty, and not remember. There was a gap though, a gap between the ancient soul and the vessel’s human identity. And it was not one that could be bridged—the soul housed the memories of innumerable lives, yet did not erase the identity of the current person. The person remembered their many lives, but more or less remained the person they were in their human years; changing along with the experiences they gained like a normal human would.

Whether that was for better or worse, Sinéad herself did not know. . . . All the tiny woman knew was that she had to do what it was she was born to, what she was told to do. She never doubted the choices made for her; she was made to embrace them, that was her duty in her human life. Moreover, because her human persona would uphold itself into her new life, it seemed she would do the same in regards to the tasks expected of her as a Reaper. Protect humanity, exterminate demons and live just outside the bounds of human existence.

Sinéad followed Millicent’s memories, that nostalgia, that feeling of ‘home,’ strong as she ran along streets familiar to her past self. The sidewalks were rather barren, devoid of most human life thanks to the day and time. Before, she would have found herself frightened to be out so late, alone in a dark part of the city . . . yet the sense of responsibility that encompassed her now overrode any of her other thoughts, courtesy of her parents’ strict tutelage. All that she was focused on doing was finding the place Millicent had called her home.

Sinéad’s mind was wiped of every other thought, and everything but this sole task. In a sense, the deficiency of idle contemplation, of fear, as well as a lacking of every other human emotion upon her face gave her a rather doll-like appearance. Her eyes were dim, and mouth sealed shut.

When the words, "So tell me, Light Reaper...are you ready to accept your fate now?" hit her ears. Sinéad’s progression halted and she simply turned toward the voice’s source and looked up at the building in front of her.

She blinked before she opened her mouth and her voice rang out, hollow, “I am.” Sinéad bent her spine, bowing before him, “I simply yearn to go home, and to fulfil the obligations granted to me by Destiny. . . .” she told him.

Garret flexed his grip on the cricket bat he held in his right hand. He could feel the weight of the thick wooden club, a feeling of nostalgia crept into his mind. He was going to need He wondered if one of his previous lives had been in a similar situation. He looked down at his arms and chest to see a few large cuts in is clothing and a bit of blood staining the plaid button up. He was going to need a new work shirt, or maybe he should just learn how to sew. “Reaper….” a raspy voice hissed, pulling his attention away from himself. He looked up to see the skinny looking humanoid creature that stood just over ten feet away. It was lanky an skinny, anemic looking. Its bone structure could easily be seen under it’s pale skin and its head was hairless and alien looking, without a nose.

“Reaper……your going to die….” It goaded him, bringing its large claws up to its face. Opening it mouth, small pointed teeth could be seen sticking out of its gums. A long pale tong slithered its way out of the demon’s maw and licked along the length of one the bladed fingers. Garret frowned at the display, this thing just loved to waste time. Ever since he had spotted it, trying to pray on a sleeping bum, it mostly fled from him. Though hit had succeed in ambushing him a few times, hence the rapidly healing wounds on his body. He had finally cornered it in this open lot. Lucky for Garret, as it hadn’t yet been paved over and was covered in a soft soil and grass. Garret reasoned that this particular demon must not be very smart.

He twisted his foot, feeling a slight vibration as his shoe and the ground rubbed against each other. It reminded him of the batters plate. He missed that feeling, the cheers of the crowd behind him. The white lights bearing down on him from all sides. The daggered stare coming from the pitcher. The soft grin on his face, beaming with confidence. He was there, back up on the plate, ready to hit one out of the park. He locked eyes with the demon, giving it a gaze that obviously said “Bring it on.” He lifted up his left hand and pointed up into the sky, grinning boldly “Home run.” The demon let a screech. “I‘m going to kill you reaper!” It charged toward Garret.

Garret quickly took his batting stance, gripping the handle strongly with both hands. The demon charged, its claws raised out to either side of it. As it drew close, Garret lifted up his left foot in preparation to swing. He slammed his foot down into the ground sending a small shock-wave forward through the earth, then swung hard forward. The small shock-wave caught the demon off balance, causing it to stumble head first forward at Garret. Garret followed the rounded head with his eyes bat singing forward toward it. Grass roots shot up and grabbed the foot of the demon, causing it to fall toward Garret’s right side. It’s head flew forward, then the edge of the bat connected squarely and smashing it’s face in. Garret felt the impact ripple through the bat, but he easily followed through with the swing.

The demon’s head flew backwards followed swiftly by its body. It flew a few feet backward before landing on its back in the dirt and grass. Garret, who had finished the swing beautifully, froze in the position for a short moment. The crowd roared and he saw the ball fly up into the black sky. When he finished he laid the bat, now in his left hand, across his shoulder. He walked slowly over to the demon and looked down at it. Head caved in and neck bent in a strange fashion, he had no doubt in his mind that the creature was dead. He put his foot on the chest of the creature, pushing downward. The ground pulled it downward, absorbing the corpse and soon it was fully buried. Staring down at the ground for a moment, he let out a large yawn. Well, I guess that’s the end to a good nights work. He thought confidently. He turned around slowly and began the long walk home.

Michael Bonnefoy

"You choose well." That didn't really comfort Michael. At all. Still, Tezuka helped Michael up, so it didn't seem like Michael was going to get killed... Hopefully. "My Replicate has found Fire...Darkness is in the Loft...and Light is on her way. We are coming together once again." Michael nodded, even though he didn't really understand anything that was just said. Something about a loft? Was that where he was going to live from now on? At least it sounded ok... After all, Michael was used to having the best of pretty much everything. He briefly wondered if Tezuka would let him get his clothes, but decided it was pointless to ask. If the guy had a loft, then he had money, right? Michael would just have to go on a shopping spree once he was settled in. It had been a few weeks since he had done some serious shopping.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he let out a sharp cry when another Tezuka appeared out of nowhere. It was a perfect replica of Tezuka, and Michael wondered if that was some kind of power; cloning. If so, then it was no wonder that Tezuka was going out and getting all of the 'Reapers'; all he had to do was replicate himself. "Go, find Light. She's doing well, using her memories to find the Loft, but with the number of Demons about, I doubt she'll be lucky to draw upon her powers again in one night." Again, none of it made much sense, but Michael figured he'd get answers later. He was starting to feel tired, all of his adrenaline leaving, now that he was safe... Somewhat. Either way, he didn't feel like learning too much more. His head already hurt from the idea of being some kind of Reaper, and the memories...

He kept getting flashes of things, but none of it made much sense (like pretty much everything else that night). One moment he was fighting, another he was resting. Sometimes he was alone, and other times he was in a group. Occasionally he was in pain, bleeding from various wounds, but then the scene would change and he'd be watching another person get hurt, crying out as if he was being attacked and not the stranger. But no, it was never a stranger. He knew that person. Or, well, 'Air' did. The flashes were too murky to make out much details, though. They were blurred together, making it hard to tell if they were all from the same point of view, or if they were a collection of memories from many. Michael was leaning towards the latter.

"Come, my friend. It is time you get re-acquainted to your home." It felt weird to be called a friend by a complete stranger, but at the same time it just worked. Like with the flashbacks, Michael considered Tezuka both a complete stranger and a close friend. He was hardly going to tell the Reaper his darkest secrets, but he still felt like he could trust him to keep him safe and in good condition. Though it was debatable just how much Tezuka actually cared. So Michael nodded and glanced around.

"Am I supposed to start flying now or are we going to teleport using your magical powder?" Michael asked, half-joking and half actually curious. He had never flown before. Well, not like a bird with wings or something. Though, come to think of it, he had gone up in small airplanes many times before. Maybe some part of me always wanted to fly, he thought. Then again, that was impossible. He only started having these flashbacks moments ago. Michael took a deep breath then glanced around. "Do I need to prepare myself for anything?" He asked.

"I cannot teleport, if you're asking. My powers only extend to the mind and making Replicates of myself. The only one of us who can do anything like teleporting would be Darkness. She can move through shadows, covering great distances in a matter of minuets." Tezuka said, the flat monotone in his voice showing no hint of laughter or joke. "We walk." He said simply, before considering Micheal's last question.

"Be on alert for more Demons. Also, I'm not quite certain if Darkness will be awake when we get to the Loft. The Darkness Reaper has always been...slightly unstable." He said calmly, leading Michael towards the loft. He paused again, creating yet another Clone. Without a word, it vanished.

~+~+~+~+~

The clone watched Garret take down the Hexon. He was impressed, he seemed to have almost completely uncovered his latent powers. He stepped out in his path as the Reaper had begun to walk away from the scene. "Earth Reaper, I presume?"

~+~+~+~+~

Tezuka nodded, a small smile on his face. "And go home, you shall." He landed in front of her, and led her to the loft. "Darkness is already there, and Air is on his way. I have also made contact with Fire and Earth. Water is the only Reaper left to find."

~+~+~+~+~

Christine giggled. "Well, if I really wanted to scare you, I would have yelled boo or something." She stuck her tongue out at her best friend. "So, what's up? Got anything planned?"

Sinéad brought herself to stand up straight once more after she gave her answer to the Tezuka Replicate; her gaze was fixed upon a certain place in the ground yards in front of her feet. A habit that would not relinquish Sinéad from its grip anytime soon. Her hands were clasped at her front, as she stood still, waiting for the signal, or a sign to move. Despite the awakening of innumerable lives within her, the hard-pressed manner of being subservient toward those of the opposite gender was something that remained strong in Sinéad.

When he landed in front of her, having leapt from the building, Sinéad did not display any sort of physical reaction, her blue eyes merely stayed focused on that one point of the sidewalk as Tezuka began to walk in the direction she herself had been heading. Toward the destination Millicent had called home before her death. Taking Tezuka’s progression along this path as a signal for her to go ahead and follow, Sinéad’s feet began moving underneath her, the heels of her shoes clicking quietly against the pavement below.

The Light Reaper could feel years worth of memories stirring in her soul, relaying themselves to her mind so she could remember the life she lead before her current one. Being in the presence of Tezuka seemed to act as a catalyst for Millie’s recollections in particular, given that she had been the one to live alongside the current Null Reaper longest of her previous incarnations. She began to remember the faces of the Reapers who came before as well, those whom had died fighting at the side of Millicent that fateful day, they had a similar situation at hand, like herself. They were in the midst of their own awakenings, having to cope with the knowledge they had a destiny placed upon their souls far greater than any mortal could comprehend.

They would remember lives their souls had led, but lives that were not their own. Sinéad could not imagine what the new hosts for the souls of the ancient Reapers would be like, but then, who could have imagined the vessel holding the Light Reaper to be like a marionette? All she was missing were the strings, and she’d be one.

"Darkness is already there, and Air is on his way. I have also made contact with Fire and Earth. Water is the only Reaper left to find." Sinéad’s eyes glanced up when she was spoken to, her mind allowed the information given to her to register and sink in for several seconds before she even attempted any sort of response. She was always careful in choosing her words in order to avoid upsetting anyone unless explicitly told to give her honest opinion, no matter if it might irritate someone in her presence.

Her gaze turned back to the sidewalk, “The news is well-received.” Sinéad replied, her voice rather quiet, “To know that we all may be reunited once again with such haste is . . . encouraging.” She spoke almost like a robot; her syllables seemed to string together in an artificial manner. It was unnerving in a way.

A part of the diminutive woman felt completely contented, Sinéad knew the part of her that was at ease currently was influenced by Millicent’s memories, she knew Tezuka after all. Sinéad remembered the nicknames Millie loved to give people, just like herself. She couldn’t help but recall the name she had placed upon the Null Reaper, the one Millie used for him. Though Sinéad moved quietly behind him, inside of her mind a small part of the female Reaper could not help but be amused by the name Millicent had placed upon him without a second thought.

Though unlike her, Sinéad decided to speak out of term, and ask a question regarding the use of the nickname. “I apologize for requesting information that bears no importance to the situation at hand, however, I wish to enquire if it would be acceptable for myself to refer to you using the nickname my former incarnation placed upon you? Would it be offensive if I addressed you as ‘Zuzu?’” The Light Reaper’s eyes remained cast down at the ground as she walked behind him, waiting either a confirmation or to be reprimanded. Regardless of which was coming her way, Sinéad had been melded to take either of the two with similar responses.

As Garret began to walk away from the scene of the fight he suddenly saw a figure step out of the shadows and into his path. Garret frowned for a second. The figure didn’t look particularly demon-like, but the person appeared to have a rather dark look. It didn’t look as though it would end up being friendly. He gripped the handle of his bat with his left hand. He had just finished with one demon, he wasn’t sure he could handle another so soon. Suddenly the figure said something. “Earth reaper, I presume?” Garret let go of his tension as he recognized the flat an emotionless tone of the person before him. “About time!” He said in a jolly tone before letting out a laugh.

He strolled up to the figure, as he approached the noted more distinguishing features. “Null! I guess I can recognize you! Tezuka right? That’s the name I remember.” He walked up to Tezuka, then clapped down his free hand on the reapers shoulder. “It’s good to see you! Well, I guess I should say good to “meet” you!” Garret let out a laugh. “I seem to have remembered a lot, you know, about those guys who were me in the past. Sure took you long enough to find me, I was starting to think I would have to find you myself! How are the…” Garret trailed off, realizing he hadn’t given the reaper to get a word in edge wise. He grinned, the took a step back. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m just excited to finally meet you.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Here.” He extended his hand and looked Tezuka straight in the eyes. “I’m Garret Marston.” He grabbed Tezuka’s hand and shook it firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet one of my comrades. I feel as though I’ve been looking forward to this day for a very long time.” He let go of Tezuka’s hand. Then he got caught up in the moment again and put his arm around the newly introduced reaper and began to walk with him down the street. “Come on, let me show you my place. I’ve been living in the city for almost a year now. Something just told me it was a good idea to come here. Well, that was before I remembered what I was meant to do. Well, we were meant to do.” Garret let out another laugh. “Well, how you been doing up until now? Internet musta surprised you! Bet you never saw that one coming!” Garret laughed again as he pulled Tezuka along the sidewalk. “So, you find anybody else yet? Or just me? I tell ya, I can’t wait to get cracking again. I’ve even taken care of a few of them on my own. I guess you saw that one just a minute ago. Not too much trouble.” He looked down at his torn clothing. “Well, looks like I need a new work shirt though.” He laughed again.

Garret stopped, realizing for the second time he hadn’t let the other reaper respond to any of his questions or statements. He took his arm off of Tezuka and took a step back again. “Crap, heh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to try and talk the ear of the fencepost. Go ahead, I’ll shut up for a while.” He leaned against a building they were now next to, setting down his bat and sticking his hands in his pockets. He gave a large grin to show he was paying attention, then waited for Tezuka to respond.

Her giggle.
It was so infectious, so cute, it made him giggle a bit too. She was just about perfect, and he couldn't have asked for a better... um... Quintin couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't know where he stood with Chrissy. Were they besties, something more, something less? Relationships boggled his mind hardcore, never made any sense to him. Which was why most of his girl friends ended up Demons - literally speakin - or hating his guts. He just didn't know how to deal with them. She stuck that little tongue of hers out at him, and he just had to giggle again. She was doing that face again. It made him laugh every time.

So, what's up? Got anything planned? "Good question! In fact, I don't. Which sounds extremely boring, so I won't say it out loud. Oh, waaaaait... " He grinned at his sarcasm. "But yeah, I really have no clue what I'm doing right now. Well, I was actually going home, but that is besides the point. The real question is, what are YOU doing out here?"

Chrissy grinned once again, pulling a large wad of singles and fives out of her purse. She waved it in Quins' face before explaining, "I just got off work at the Blue Rose, and I'm bored." She exaggerated the last word, rolling her eyes as well. "Tell me you don't have anything to do tomorrow...pleeeease?" She just about begged.

~+~+~+~+~+~

Tezuka smiled, even though he knew Sinead couldn't see it from behind him. "Why stop something that you've carried on through five lives? All of my one hundred and fifty years? Ever since you were Timothy, the one who bestowed upon me the nickname of "Zuzu", you have called me the same thing."

~+~+~+~+~+~

The Replicate smiled. "You've changed genders, but you haven't changed in much else." He motioned for Garret to follow him. "I'll take you to the Loft. The others are making their way there even as we speak."

Oh money. How it held nothing for him, except to buy what he needed. Kind of annoying in that sense. Massive oxymoron. But whatever, Chrissy was looking bored enough as it was. Quin didn't really know if she liked her job there at all, or not, cause she was usually complaining about how shitty it was. But that made sense as well, since working in a restaurant would suck royally. Having to be put under pressure by a bunch of rich people, or yelled at by some rando that doesn't understand the taste difference in Coke or Pepsi.

Quintin feigned a scared expression, as if he was going to break the news to her that he had something on. Truth was, he sorta did, but didn't. The order was coming in around 4 tomorrow, but usually arrived whenever. So he had most of the day off. " Well, there is a package coming and..." Quintin started, pretending to act really nervous, like he knew she would kill him if he didn't hang with her. He then burst out laughing, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He didn't even need to look at her face, he knew it would be priceless.

"Ive got most of the entire day off tomorrow, so no. I don't have anything on. I'm not doing jack all!"

Michael Bonnefoy

"I cannot teleport, if you're asking. My powers only extend to the mind and making Replicates of myself. The only one of us who can do anything like teleporting would be Darkness. She can move through shadows, covering great distances in a matter of minuets." Tezuka wasn't joking, and Michael resisted the urge to frown. Did this man (Reaper, whatever) have no sense of humor? And here he was thinking that things were going to get more interesting... Or at least more fun. After all, photo shoots were only interesting up to a point. "We walk." Great. Did Michael mention that he was tired? He had been walking all day, and plenty of that was up and down a runway... Not the easiest walking, despite what others might think. Not to mention that, mentally, Michael was exhausted. "Be on alert for more Demons. Also, I'm not quite certain if Darkness will be awake when we get to the Loft. The Darkness Reaper has always been...slightly unstable." That didn't sound good. Michael was about to ask what exactly Tezuka meant when the Reaper created another copy, this one disappearing quickly. Michael hardly even raised an eyebrow, getting used to all of this... All of these strange things.

"Is the loft nice?" Michael asked, starting to think about his new living conditions. "Is it going to have lots of clothes and make-up, because I need that stuff. Also, how exactly do we all get around? Don't tell me you expect us to walk everywhere." That would really be hell. Michael was used to having limos, or at least a nice rental car, take him places. If he was going to have to start walking then that would suck. The heat and effort would destroy his make-up and get him all sweaty, and sweat stains were so seventeenth century. Michael sighed, looking around as they started to enter an unfamiliar area of the city. He supposed it was too much to hope for that he'd be living in a place similar to his old one, plus it sounded like he was going to have roommates...

Oh God. Roommates. That meant fighting over things like the bathroom, never getting enough sleep, and having to watch your every step. Michael already had high enough stress as it was, he did not need anything else pushing him farther. Plus, what if they happened to be uncultured pigs? What was he supposed to do then, if he was forced to live with people who didn't understand the finesse of fashion and good taste? Who didn't understand culture? Michael felt like he was started to regret this... Plus it was starting to feel like he got the short end of an already short stick. Just great.

"Also... I'm going to need to get some medication, unless this loft already has it." Michael's more annoying side of personality was coming out. The, 'I am better than you in every way' side. The part that he usually brought out only for interviews, because then he needed to look high and mighty or else he'd risk actually getting attached to someone... And considering that relationships never lasted long in the world of models and the rich, that was something he just couldn't go through. Besides, he already had experience in that field of life, and he was not eager to ever repeat that again, even if that meant dying without a taste of love. Which, at this point, Michael really doubted was real.

She looked up at him rather quietly; the words he spoke sank into her mind, and registered. Though, the expression bore by Sinéad Knight was one that reflected nothing, completely blank and utterly unaffected by the world around it. It was almost as if her mind had a delayed reaction to properly processing the confirmation given to her by Tezuka to address him as her previous incarnations had.

Sinéad . . . she didn’t know that the nickname was that old, she didn’t know its history stretched back as far as five lifetimes. Her memories could not locate a time when she had been known as ‘Timothy.’ The only names that she knew of from her innumerable lives were that of female embodiments of the Light Reaper. And those names were far and few; she was not even one-hundred percent certain of the eras in which they had lived. The only former incarnation of herself that she had any sureness about was Millicent, the one who had lived before her, her memories were the clearest of any Sinéad had managed to recover over the last twenty years of her life.

When she had believed that everything that she was seeing were simple hallucinations brought on by childhood schizophrenia. Perhaps the most coherent memory she bore . . . was of her last death, the deaths of her fellow Reapers. Millicent watching in horror as they seemed to be but helpless against their opponent; the screams of pain they unleashed upon their hearts being torn from the flesh which bound them, then, the same happening to herself before everything went dark.

The Light Reaper stopped walking for a moment as she felt her heart flutter in her chest, as if panic had set in upon her. Without a word though, she shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, doing her very best to calm down. Soon enough, soon enough she would be home and able to rest, and shoulder the weight of this reality. . . . This was her duty, even if seeing her death frightened her; fighting was the obligation she bore as the vessel housing the Light Reaper’s soul. It was as simple as that now. Her name, Sinéad, that was just another title placed upon her, the ancient soul within had no identity but that of a Reaper; this was something she had to remember.

Her identity was that of the Light Reaper’s, the name she bore in this lifetime was something used to define her existence, to make it easier for her to be recognized by her fellow Reapers. . . . Maybe this was why she had never once felt inclined to place one of her own nicknames upon herself, even though she gave one to nearly every other person around. The detachment she felt from the world around her, never having any connections to anything, and merely answering to the name placed upon her by this vessel’s parents had affected her in a way she didn’t quite grasp. She placed nicknames upon those around her without little hesitation, because she saw their connections with the world.

Idle thought is pointless, you know this well enough now. Attend only to the responsibilities placed upon you, and do as is wished of you. Think not too much of anything else. she reminded herself, shaking her head with a sigh before she started to walk once more. “It is not much further, correct?” she spoke up. Sinéad’s eyes remained fixated on the ground below her, even as she spoke, “Very soon, the lot of us . . . reunited once again. . . .”