AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 488 - Wings to dreams
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 19:48:26 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Demi-Plane
After Theinas disappeared, Amdirlain ran some quick mental calculations to see where some Class options would put her. “So I need to optimise a mix of Intelligence and Willpower.”
“It’s just as well you have your cheat code for levelling,” Sarah looped her arm through Amdirlain’s and started towards the house. “You mentioned an idea for anchoring the Plane.”
“A variation of your summoning staff. I’ll create a device for Gail, Noltar, and Isa to activate on Laurelin as soon as I finish creating a Planar Seed,” explained Amdirlain. “It’ll serve a double purpose as I’ll get our two retreads to sing part of its creation with me to give them experience once I get them past the initial levels.”
“Retreads?” chuckled Sarah. “So harsh.”
Inside the house, Isa started giggling and echoed her words.
“Little Miss Big Ears is in the house,” drawled Amdirlain, feeling light despite how the song’s dragging fatigue lingered.
“There are two Ms Big Ears outside. I love you too,” muttered Isa drunkenly. “They’re picking on me, Ilya. Owie.”
“Just making sure you’re still you,” murmured Ilya. “Silly noises.”
“It wasn’t my fault your Power didn’t translate it,” huffed Isa.
“It was for the best.” Ilya shifted position on the couch and had her cuddled close when they got inside. Beneath Ilya’s protective composure tight notes screeched and wailed but her awareness projected only thoughts of Isa in her arms and the surrounding room.
Isa was fumbling around with the remote and had already found Sarah’s back catalogue of recorded Qil Tris dramas. “How do you get time to watch so many?”
“I have them on as background noise when things feel too quiet. The unit recorded even when I had it stored,” explained Sarah. “It figures you get the remote working in two seconds flat—kids are all alike.”
Amdirlain slipped onto her usual couch with a reassuring smile for the worried Ilya.
A gurgling noise came from Isa’s stomach, and she clasped a hand to her abdomen. “Wow, I’m loud.”
“We know,” drawled Sarah, heading to the kitchen. “Is her stomach functional, or does Rachel need light foods initially?”
Isa sat up slightly and craned her head around to regard Amdirlain. “Rachel? Should I be changing my name now?”
“She’s full systems go for food, but she doesn’t need nutrition right now.”
“But I feel like I could eat a horse,” Isa interjected without taking her gaze from Amdirlain.
“As far as names go, since you were under an Aspect’s influence, Sarah used Rachel to refer to your choices alone, as Isa was the influenced personality.”
“That kinda makes sense.”
“Isa comes from the name Hell gave you. You kept it because I shortened it, but whatever you want to call yourself is fine with me,” advised Ilya.
Isa dropped her head back on Ilya’s shoulder. “My first existential crisis, oh the pain.”
Packages of meat floated out of the freezer, and Sarah waved a knife at Isa. “Use another catchphrase.”
“But why, doctor? Oh, with all your crafting, you are a ‘doctor smith’,” Isa snorted, though unperturbed by Sarah’s mock glare, she still squealed. “Protect me, Ammie. The Dragon needs to eat you, not me.”
“What have I done?” muttered Amdirlain, though her eyes glowed with suppressed laughter.
Burners clicked on, and pans clattered into positions. A few prying motions snapped apart the frozen steaks. Sarah tossed them in a wall unit modelled off a magical microwave from Qil Tris, and soon, the scent of bloody meat tickled Amdirlain’s nose.
“Full-fledged hyper mode. Did you inject her with otters?” asked Sarah, her hand resting on the switch for the unit’s door.
“Otters?” questioned Ilya.
“A past life of mine, a sapient species, not an actual Otter,” reassured Amdirlain. “And no influence from me.”
“I’m alone in my brain.” Isa waved an arm out expansively.
Sarah gave her an almost imperceptible smile. “No wonder it’s empty in there.”
“Meow!” huffed Isa. “I love you too, bitch.”
“What makes you feel that way?” asked Sarah as she tossed a small stick of butter to sizzle in the heated pan.
Isa thrust a hand towards Sarah. “Don’t you start!”
“Start what? Are you perhaps projecting?”
“Ilya, save me!” squealed Isa as she hugged Ilya tight. “The doctor is in the house.”
“You just don’t want to figure out who you are,” said Sarah.
Amdirlain watched the relief in Ilya’s eyes as she kissed Isa’s cheek. “I got your back.”
“I can’t even call you a pair of lovebirds anymore. One of you has shed her wings.” Sarah grumbled lightly, setting out a pot of water to boil.
Isa huffed indignantly, only to pause. “I’ve no impulse to propose a bet or find a game. This is good.”
She snuggled closer to Ilya.
“Just as well, since I started cooking,” said Sarah.
“Of course you’re cooking. I know you don’t eat everything dehydrated via your breath weapon,” replied Isa.
Sarah tapped the knife she’d been using against the cutting board. “Oi.”
“Oi? I’m the one running on low brain power. You should be able to zing back a better retort,” responded Isa drily.
“Once Sarah has gotten over being a nesting Dragon, I’ll take you somewhere we can get you levels,” said Ilya.
Amdirlain coughed. “I’ve got a project she can help with as a backing singer. That will get her a lot of levels to start things rolling.”
“She? You also don’t know what to call me?” huffed Isa.
“Your theme sounds calmer,” replied Amdirlain. “All the elements and memories are the same, but her influence had you more wild chaos and less light fun than you are now. If you still want to use Isa, that’s fine.”
“It’s a memory of Hell. Can you put it behind you?” asked Ilya.
Isa tilted her head back and eyed her sceptically. “Can you? You never let go of the name they gave you. I don’t count tweaking it in the same fashion as Klipyl did as letting it go. If I go back to using Rachel, will you let your pain go?”
“I’m not the stupid village girl I used to be,” replied Ilya. “My name reminds me of unfinished business. I never repaid her for slaughtering the village.”
Amdirlain tossed her a memory crystal, and Ilya barely snatched it one-handed. “What’s this?”
“The True Name of the Devil who spent centuries inside that cliff. The enchantment’s strength was gone, but I could hear its theme and the name within.”
Ilya’s fingers trembled, and she closed her eyes. “I’ve long craved having this, and now it just falls into my hand. It’s ironic that while you prepared to get rid of Isa’s ‘lucky’ priesthood, I was in the right place for you to hear this name. Did you get played by the Aspect?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not withholding useful information from you,” said Amdirlain.
“What can you do with this name?”
“Would you like her back in darkness? I could seal her up and send her out beyond the leading edge of stars. It would be possible for a divine being to find her if they try hard enough, but her release should be a long time coming.”
“Drifting in the darkness. Could you make it so she knew how far from any living being she was?” Ilya shook herself. “No, then I’d be just as vicious as her. I’d say a quick destruction, but that would risk attracting the attention of her superiors. Could you instead seal her up in a timeless state? One less Devil to prey on the innocent at least fulfils my ancestors’ intentions.”
“A temporal stasis would make the prison more secure, as she wouldn’t be hammering away at it from the inside. I’ll deal with it once I’ve fully recovered.”
“Thank you, Amdirlain,” said Ilya, her voice choked with ancient sorrow.
‘She’s uncomfortable showing us these emotions,’ Amdirlain projected to Sarah.
‘Yeah, let’s change the subject.’
Amdirlain smiled lightly. “You know I owed you for all the dance lessons. They still come in handy.”
The shift eased some tension from Ilya’s theme. “Is that an attempt to lighten the mood?”
Sarah waved a knife reprovingly. “Yes, but you’ve not seen Amdirlain fight recently. It’s like watching a dance when she’s slow enough to be visible.”
“Really?” sniffed Ilya, trying to regain her composure.
“Your lessons helped me flow with the music I hear in people’s bodies, even spells—it’s been incredibly advantageous to say the least.” Amdirlain nodded reassuringly to ease the doubt that lingered in Ilya. “Sarah suggested the four of us have a vacation somewhere.”
“Not an idea I’m familiar with,” said Ilya
“We had some on Cemna when we could give Hell the slip. Those various days spent relaxing by the waterfall—or even shooting undead—were relaxing,” Isa frowned. “Let’s have that vacation after you’re done with your healing trip around the courts. That gives us time to sort things out and for me to regain some levels. You said that Erwarth went first?”
“Yes, though she’s using Noltar now.”
“What spin will you put on things when people ask about you being the Songbird?” asked Isa. “Do you think they’d believe someone else could play with the Soul of an Anar or Lómë?”
“I’m just stronger.”
Isa stared at her in disbelief. “Honey, don’t try that tack. It won’t work. All Balnérith could do was get the Lómë to seal themselves into demons—their souls stayed unchanged. Have any of the former Lómë been in touch yet?”
It’s a little obvious when you give it that context.
“Not yet,” replied Amdirlain. “I feel like I’m in the calm before the next storm. But it’s not a feeling like a thunderstorm; it’s more like the air before a good soaking rain sets in and the summer-browned lawns come to life.”
“I’m glad, but too much rain can cause a flood. You need to figure out how you’re going to present things, to channel that water into a useful rather than destructive result,” said Isa. “Individually, the Lómë might not seem like much, but a bit of preparation and public relations to muster the sandbag crews can help you prevent flooded homes.”
“I left them to their own devices because I had to heal myself, and I found out why I was so angry with them.”
“Roher mentioned you were better with the councils. For a while, he thought he’d offended you because he’d been a dumb arse before the meeting, but then he heard from you later and that cheered him up,” said Isa. “It’s stuff like that you need to do more of somehow. You cut yourself off, Am, or with a close circle except for infrequent messages. For some people that’s fine, but others need more, or they grow to feel neglected—like the Lómë.”
“Their attitude turned quick enough after getting freed,” said Amdirlain. “I wasn’t in a good place. What do you feel went wrong?”
“Emotions were high, so many factors were involved. If there had been even a third fewer survivors inside the tower, I don’t think their energy would have gone in the wrong direction. The ones who hadn’t suffered and learnt diluted the mindset of those who had,” advised Isa.
“I feel the song of the adult rites is a poison. They grow up in an entitled group, and so it draws out memories that aggravate that sense of pride and entitlement.” Amdirlain rose to help Sarah, only to receive a glare and a knife stabbed towards her couch.
“Don’t even think about it, Ms blood-pouring-off-me. You rest.” Sarah started preparing vegetables with a blurring knife clatter against the chopping board.
“You’ve been told,” Isa laughed. “Yeah, so many memories that I regained from Mori feature me going ‘darn it, Ori makes this look easy’. She was good at bestowing humility. Spending days listening to her sing always left Mori humble. She’d sing something tens of thousands of times. To Mori, each result was perfection; to Ori, it was barely adequate or pathetic. Yet she always found something to encourage Mori about no matter the lesson.”
“I couldn’t hear the music properly anymore. I remembered the Leviathan and the Abyssal dragons on the horizon, and it was like listening to music piped into a swimming pool. Just dull, muffled noise while hearing distant songs was impossible.”
“I?” questioned Isa. “That’s not how you looked at things before. Is this a good or a bad thing?”
“I believe it’s an attitude of acceptance and understanding,” said Amdirlain. “You’re right about the Lómë, and I’ve asked Gilorn to consider how she’d heal the Lómë instead of fixing them.”
“I’d offer to help with public relations, but as soon as I go near them, it will be a bomb going off. Even with my slow brain, I can see that,” said Isa.
“You sound like you’ve got some pretty organised thoughts for a chaos girl,” noted Ilya.
“Oh, it’s not about being organised, but my desire is not to have this go sideways. You can use chaotic tendencies to figure out how to manage reactions. Most people react emotionally first and logically a distant second,” said Isa. “Put yourself on the wave ahead of them to see the sources of turbulence and dissonance.”
“I’ll let you eat while I compose another song, and then we’ll get you and Noltar levelled up so your brains get faster,” said Amdirlain.
“Are you still recovering?” asked Sarah.
Amdirlain looked momentarily sheepish. “Maybe I’ll sit here for a little while longer.”
Isa smiled. “I’m glad you’ve picked up some EQ to go with the IQ you’ve always had.”
“Klipyl helped me there,” said Amdirlain. “Maybe I should ask her and Kadaklan to come along to monitor your health.”
“Maybe Klipyl. I’m not sure I’m up for Eastern philosophy lessons.”
Amdirlain waved to the front door. “Noltar needs to come join in the singing, and Klipyl has done some growing of her own. She’s always been far better with people than me, so if you want to channel people’s reactions constructively, she’d certainly have valuable insights.”
“Klipyl’s got a Power that lets her read people’s connections to others,” advised Sarah. “She can see the shifts in the emotional energies as threads and ribbons.”
“She can even read the connections of some primordials around the courts,” added Amdirlain. “Though with those too strong, it becomes a visual clutter that blends and renders the readings meaningless.”
Amdirlain heard the Power crossing the planar barrier, giving her a lead time before Isa caught their themes.
Jubilant excitement gushed from Gail’s mind, and Sarah swung the door open before she could knock. Gail wore a floral summer dress that sat just off her shoulders, and her hair was in two ponytails that spilled across her shoulders.
Isa blinked and spoke in an exaggerated drawl. “I react so slowly; everything just seems to happen. Boom!”
Noltar slipped inside ahead of Gail and held out a hand reassuringly. “Don’t get up. I know the first few hours are the worst. Amdirlain wants us to sing together as soon as you recover.”
“Yeah, I need some levels back so I don’t feel like my thoughts are trudging through waist-deep dry sand,” replied Isa. “Are you staying as well, Gail?”
“I’m just the delivery girl,” said Gail. “A little bird might have told me you’re going to chase after me. Fair warning, if you blow right past me, I’ll dump the title in your lap and let you deal with the officialdom.”
“No, I insist you remain the puppet on the throne, I’ll just be the mastermind pulling people’s strings for you—I mean me,” Isa wrung her hands together and tried for an evil laugh only to get tickled by Ilya. “Stop! I’m delicate.”
“Should I torture her, Your Majesty?” asked Ilya drily.
“What you do in your bedroom is your business,” Gail replied primly. Noltar slipped towards the kitchen, only to get waved to a couch by Sarah.
Isa sniffed dramatically and rubbed at her eyes. “I see how it is. You’re all picking on the literal new girl. I will report you to HR for hazing.”
“But you’re an Elf now—so you want to report to the ER?” Gail smirked.
“ER?” questioned Ilya, her arm curled around Isa, apparently divided between defending Isa and enjoying their banter.
“Emergency room, triaged medical care,” snorted Sarah. “She let herself in for that one.”
“My brain is slow,” sniffed Isa. “Stop picking on me when I can’t fight back.”
Gail moved up behind the couch and patted Isa’s shoulder. “You just need to let Auntie Am pour some experience into you. Just be careful not to overindulge.”
“I know about levelling sickness. I’m already planning what we can make to pour the levels in slowly,” reassured Amdirlain.
“Delivery girl, are you staying to eat?”
“Only if I’m invited.” Gail shrugged. “Anyone else we need to invite? I thought Nûr was going to invite herself.”
Amdirlain sat up. “Oh?”
“I’m not sure anything will come of it, as Nûr keeps her own council. None of the others have asked about my name change, but Nûr sought me out. She only smiled at me and asked me how challenging training the Enyalië was in my new state,” advised Noltar. “We spoke for a while, and she seemed pleased for me; there was no sharpness from jealousy. When you sent word about Isa, she left.”
“Everyone sit down and stop cluttering up the place. Food will be ready for those who can eat shortly. I don’t know what meal you’re on next, but you’ll get what you’re given,” declared Sarah.
“Yes, Mama Dragon,” Gail plopped onto the couch next to Amdirlain. “Did you get her pregnant? She’s all broody.”
“Nah, she’s just dominating the situation,” wheezed Isa, restraining her laughter.
“Elf snack,” rumbled Sarah.
Isa jabbed a finger at Amdirlain. “You’ve got yours right there.”
As Sarah snorted in amusement, Ilya covered Isa’s mouth. The banter continued unabated even after Sarah dished out food.
It was a few hours before they returned outside, and Gail hopped back to Laurelin to teach.
Amdirlain adjusted her experience allocation solely to Songbird before they began.
The pair repeated a steady series of notes while Amdirlain did most of each crystal, working to their tempo. She paused after each, listening to their themes and declaring breaks when their bodies needed to acclimatise. She spent time with Sarah each evening and composed, trickling more Ki into her Soul while the others slept, and Ilya watched over Isa.
Over fourteen days, Amdirlain kept the complexity of the items they constructed to a careful growth curve. They were on the cusp of level sixty when Amdirlain opted for the object she had designed over the weeks.
When the glow of creation faded, the song left a crystal archway on the grass before the house. Its shape was a mirrored pair of giant ram’s horns. The thick hollowed ends sat on the ground, pointing outwards, spilling fruit and berries. Their spiralling lengths formed the posts, and their thin points linked into the keystone in the centre of the arch. The intended name of the new Plane was already infused within the crystal.
[Crafting summary (True Song Crystal)
Planar Anchor x 1
Total Experience gained: 8,333,333
Songbird: +8,333,333
Note: The realm is bottom-heavy, but careful not to tip off the balance beam.]
A quartet of solid levelling chimes ran through Noltar and Isa. Their prior ranks in powers and skills allowed them to select classes where each level provided four points in a mix of attributes. Noltar had selected classes that gave her predominantly Intelligence and Endurance while Isa had opted to add a bunch of Charisma along with the increases her classes provided.
Isa tugged on her platinum braid, her golden eyes aglow with excitement as she looked the archway over. “Pretty. The fruit looks realistic enough to take a bite out of them. Cornucopia is going to be the name of the Plane?”
“It’ll spill plenty of places for the Enyalië to sing flowers.”
“It’s different from Lómë and Anar architecture that I know of,” noted Noltar. “Though that’s hardly surprising given most of it strayed far from Human standards. We’ll take this to Laurelin and await your Message to activate it.”
Amdirlain cut herself off before she called her Noltar and started again. “You don’t want to take part in singing the seed into existence?”
“That would net us a ridiculous number of levels,” protested Noltar.
“The even share means eleven in each of your classes,” noted Amdirlain casually.
“Forty-four levels when we’re both around two hundred and forty in total seems risky,” said Noltar. “Our progress speed has given Protean a daily workout.”
Isa gasped in pretend shock. “Leaking blood out of your ears regularly keeps death at bay! Didn’t you know that?”
“Critics, but you’ve a fair point. How many levels are you comfortable with it jumping you?”
Noltar looked at Isa , who shrugged. “Twenty levels total?”
“That’s fair,” replied Noltar.
“Okay, so we’ll need to keep going until you’re level seventy-seven in each Class. Then the planar seed will take you to eighty-two.”
“You’re trying to push us into Tier 7 Prestige Class land in under a month?” asked Isa.
“I’d just be more comfortable with you being closer to your previous levels,” said Amdirlain. “You have the Tier 7 energy pool waiting to be used again, so maybe even see what happens if you get high enough to take an evolution. It offered Tier 7 classes still when I had access to seven plus.”
Noltar rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you know?”
“Nope.”
Isa clapped. “How about we get two prestige classes at Tier 7, and the third one, we take an evolution option if offered? Just in case we end up with a new species and have wasted the opportunity for all those extra levels it could have absorbed.”
“If that turns us back into a type of Celestial, I get to say I told you so,” warned Noltar.
“Live a little. I’m sure Mr Message will warn me if it’s going to be something like that,” said Isa. “Speaking of things changing, I’ve been thinking I’ll return to using Rachel. I’ve felt more like myself over the last couple of weeks, and Ilya is right—it is leftover business from Hell. You did a good job putting my brain back together, Amdirlain. I think clinging to Isa was a trauma response—in not quite believing I’d left Hell behind. So I kept using the name Ilya called me there, so if something went wrong, I could pretend I’d always known getting free from Hell was a lie.”
Amdirlain was about to reply when an orb that resonated with Lerina’s melody hovered by Amdirlain’s shoulder. “Some angels you’re very familiar with would like to speak with you in person.”
“Oh, boy. Are you going to be recreating more Lómë souls?” asked Rachel.
“We’ll find out. Let us know when you’ve tossed the name Rachel aside, and we’ll throw you a birthday party.”
“We’re still in Sarah’s Demi-Plane. I’m happy to speak to them.” Amdirlain returned the Message to Lerina, and they returned to singing.
It was an hour before Sírdhem, Fainil, and Nûr led the remaining former Lómë through a Gate that opened over the inland sea. They were all in their angelic forms, wings shimmering in the Demi-Plane’s radiant light, but none wore Lerina’s armour or symbol. Instead, their attire was dark green robes, similar to what Amdirlain typically wore. A scattered few winked at Noltar, but most kept a determined composure. Though their elven features differed, they all had golden skin and solid amethyst gazes accompanying their six white wings. They were all outwardly serene, but Amdirlain caught the self-accusatorial themes that cut through them.
It seems I’m not the only person in need of some healing.
“To what do I owe such a gathering?” asked Amdirlain. She’d kept herself from peeking into their minds, but determination and concern were running through all their themes with a strength she couldn’t ignore.
“We learnt of Noltar’s change, and it became obvious we needed to speak to you,” Sírdhem said. “We requested Lerina release us from service, and she agreed.”
They all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads in perfect time.
“Did you spend the last hour practising that?” Amdirlain folded her arms and huffed playfully. “What are you all up to?”
Nûr rose and stepped forward; the others remained back to show their acceptance of her as their representative. “Songbird.”
“I told you so,” Rachel hissed in a loud stage whisper.
Scattered laughter rose from the angels, but Nûr motioned for silence.
Rachel was right; reconstructing a Lómë Soul was a bit of a giveaway.
“We would serve your goals but aren’t worthy of regaining True Song or returning as Lómë as you allowed Noltar. Let us be your messengers and handle whatever errands you need doing on the Celestial or Mortal planes.”
“Would you tell me why you feel you’re not worthy of regaining True Song?” asked Amdirlain.
“Noltar has family left alive, whereas all our families perished. While they’ll eventually be reborn, we’re the last of them, and we would give up the True Song we proved unworthy to possess. The Titan decided we would leave the Abyss when we had intended to earn our redemption. It was bitter news that you still needed to walk that path because of your curse. Please let us remain normal celestials; whether you take our oath now or in the future, we will always do as you require,” said Nûr.
“Please stand up. You should all know I won’t order you to do anything,” said Amdirlain. “If you want to stay celestials and help, feel free.”
“That’s good because it’s come to our attention we completely failed to teach you subtlety during your time with our teams,” Nûr said. “Creating stars in front of thousands of mortals?”
“It was a tiny star, just a white dwarf between friends. Surely that isn’t a big deal,” protested Amdirlain. “You’re all offering to help, but I’m unsure what extra help I need.”
“We believe the Enyalië will need training outside True Song,” offered Nûr. “We could teach them combat and perception skills. Or perform spells around them so they can learn to duplicate them musically.”
“Would you all like to stay awhile and talk?” asked Amdirlain. “Perhaps relax a little. I can hear the battles you’ve been fighting lingering on you.”
Nûr smiled warmly, and the others murmured their acceptance.
Amdirlain frowned as the lack of equipment on them niggled. “I should make you some new gear. Do you think I should put these apprentices of mine to work?”
“Do you know how to relax, Amdirlain?” asked Nûr.
“What do you mean? Creating enchanted items is relaxing, but I won’t do it immediately, just before you go.”
Amdirlain heard Sarah dispatch a Message to Klipyl, who popped onto the Plane in an elaborate kimono that featured sunbeams dancing through cherry blossoms and her hair done in a stacked-up braid.
Rachel’s gaze brightened at Klipyl’s fancy attire before she swept forward and hugged Rachel and Ilya. “I got a baby sister, and a sister-in-law..”
“Were you going out?” asked Sarah.
“No, I was walking home enjoying the evening,” replied Klipyl. She looked about at the gathering and grinned. “Long time no see with some of you.”
“You look very different, Klipyl,” noted Nûr.
“It’s not how someone looks or what they’re called, Nûr; it’s their actions and how they treat others,” replied Klipyl. “I don’t always do the right thing, but I try, and now I’m a big sister. This is so cool! We need to celebrate. I can see I’ve got my work cut out with a bunch of you, all that guilt and angst. Let me guess; they refused to be changed back to Lómë?”
Amdirlain concealed a smile as the angels shot glances at each other.
“You can tell that about all of us?” asked Fainil.
“I thought I was the only one that felt guilty,” murmured Sírdhem.
Ilya sighed. “Ladies, I quote: we would give up the True Song we proved unworthy to possess. What part of that line didn’t speak about guilt? We’re all a bunch of wounded deers Amdirlain found.”
“Swans,” offered Rachel.
“It’s okay. I’ll give you heartwarming poetry, tea, and sweets,” advised Klipyl. “Or a kick in the butt until I straighten you out; depending on what you need, it might be all four.”
Comments
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter!
Glenn Wright
I think I now have the name changes all caught at the appropriate point.
Glenn Wright
Yeah name switches give me grief - Will fix - thanks
CringeWorthyStudios
You keep calling Isa/Rachel Isa, even after she says she’s going to change her name back. Same with Erwarth/Noltar, even though she changed her name last chapter. Other than that, good chapter. Loved the warm and fuzzies from the interactions. Thanks for the chapter! Oh, and I should get to the thing I said I’d look at for you. I would have done it already but I pulled a Cyrus when writing on Tuesday night and sent myself off into an accidental enlightenment. I’ve been having to smooth out the wording and details for *days* since and I’m almost done.
j0ntsa
Ah, that... Yeah
Glenn Wright
It is in Australia, put it up before work since I've got a lot on today.
j0ntsa
Wut... But its not friday yet...
Plateworm
Tftc
