comedy, crosswords, and coffee, oh my!

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
Ethiopian shepherds
discovered coffee
when they realized
their goats began
to dance.
- - - - - - - -

Staring intently at the ink-laden pages of the Independent, Keane was lost for words. Namely, the words that corresponded to seven across with the clue "yak, e.g.". The crossword puzzle was nearly halfway full after thirty minutes of work, but his coffee cup was disappointingly empty, with only a few dregs at the bottom.

This was part of a recent Saturday morning routine. After spending an hour or so at his favorite coffee shop in the merchant area near Hollywood Heights, Keane ventured to the library and continued his research on Greek mythology. In his pocket was a notepad and on it was written the names of the nine muses and names of the more important gods from the Greek world. Once he finished at the library, Keane would wander Hollywood, hoping for some kind of sign that he wasn't the only one who was hearing the voice of a Greek deity. Thalia, his ever-present muse of comedy and other things, insisted that there were others out there like him, but Keane held on to the idea that he was insane with the hope that his family might disown him if it were true.

Sadly, no.

Speak of the devil. Keane pulled out his cellphone, glancing at the blank screen for a moment before putting it up to his ear.

"Good morning to you, too." Keane tried to take a sip of his coffee, but the cup was empty. He grimaced and set it back on the table top. "You wouldn't happen to know the answer to seven across on the Independent's crossword today, would you?"

There was a brief pause as Thalia considered the question. You know that I am the muse of comedy and idyllic poetry, not Athena, right?

Keane grinned as Thalia fell into his trap, shifting the cell phone to his other hand as he spoke. "So you finally admit that you don't know everything? Pity, with your daily insistance on the fact, I was beginning to believe you." He was going to have to ask Julian at work what the answer was - the man worked out the crosswords as his morning mental exercise every day, but in truth, Julian was only trying to find an error in the puzzle so that he could rub it in Aaron's face.

Is Aaron the one who wears way too much cologne and has those tiny glasses that make his face look like Teddy Roosevelt's?

Keane, who had just taken a bite of his bagel, nearly choked at the concept. Both Julian and Aaron were his coworkers at the Independent. Aaron designed the puzzles while Julian organized the wanted advertisements, and Keane was a "Dear So-and-So" columnist. Aaron did look a bit like the twenty-sixth president and, if you told him so, would probably shoot you for insulting Roosevelt's memory.

He glanced back down at the crossword puzzle, furrowing his brows in irritation. Back to work. Clearing his throat, Keane replied. "Yes. I'm going to be late for work, so I catch up with you later on today." Thalia began objecting in the background, but he continued onwards. "Talk to you later. All right, bye."

He closed his phone and set it down, returning to his crossword and ignoring Thalia's protests.

Seven across, Yak, e.g..

One thing was certain - if Keane was going to finish this, he needed more coffee.

History of Coffee by Michelle Ramadan

[RORY O'CONNELL]

Oh the Living and the Dying
How Easily You Bruise

Oh Delia, Don't Go 'Round
When the Devil's Loose

The coffee shop. Technically it had sentimental value for Rory, as it was the place that he first met Cherith, the death fate, but really he didn't see any use for sentiment. The singular reason he was currently working there was to keep himself as close as possible to the fate every moment of every day, and working along side her was the only way to make sure that was how it went. He needed to keep an eye on a girl with such monumental power. If she was allowed out of his site for longer than a moment, who knew what would get to her and try to convince her to leave Rory and Echidna?

He wasn't complaining though. Work was something nice and easy for him to concentrate on. It let him do a mindless task that kept him from totally freaking out with his recent find of a FATE. If he didn't have this to keep him occupied he just KNEW that he would be comatose on his couch in his small apartment, absolutely put into a stupor over such a perfect find.

Mama Echidna would be so proud.

Quickly hustling through the entire establishment, Rory knew that he had gotten this job down to an exact science. The way humans worked was so simple to manipulate and take advantage of. They had built up a perfect society where even the lowest tasks available to their race required little to no menial labor. Sometimes Rory thought it was a pity that he had only taken the job to get closer to Cherith, as he knew he could EASILY rise in the ranks until he was in a position of REAL power if he wanted to.

Walking throughb the crowds and doling out the coffee as it came, Rory mentally started to re-visit the entire scene in the graveyard with the fate. Oh, that had been such a relief. He had been starting to doubt his own powers as a true monster and that perfect find was exactly what he needed to convince himself that everything was fine. He knew that he could still sniff out any God or Goddess from miles away. His powers or perception were absolutely fine, and those few times lately that it had been getting harder and harder to perform the transformation were....nothing. Freak incidents. Nothing to worry about.

Everything was fine. He just needed to be calm, collected. Analytical, like he used to. He needed to be the maathematical killing machine that he was born to be. A Predator. he had to just look around. Each and every one of those pitiful creatures were less than him and he could have his pick of them to devour at will. He was a Grecian MONSTER for Typhon's sake! He didn't need to be nervous, or worried, or frightened that he would mess up! He was above that. He was his own lion. He was-

"Will that be another coffee, sir?"

He was a beast of burden.

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
The lion is, however,
rarely heard -
much more seldom seen.
- - - - - - - -

"Will that be another coffee, sir?"

Keane was startled out of his musings as a worker glared down at him, like a beast to his prey. Or perhaps that was just Keane's mind going awry after being startled out of the tangled grass that was his thoughts.

Tangled grass? Aren't you poetic today? Dost thou wish I speaketh in the Shakespearian tongue to establish the mood?

Did someone say something? Oh, right. Thalia.

Keane picked up his coffee cup, gazing down at the remaining froth that decorated the bottom. Yes, more coffee would be excellent, especially if he had half a mind to finish the crossword by noon. Keane looked up at the worker and smiled.

"Yes, please. A medium coffee with two sugars and no cream." After a moment of indecision, Keane held out his empty cup for the worker to take. So long, old friend. "Thank you."

The worker was sturdily built with short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He probably worked as a model, as well; the man's frame was muscular and he had a thin waist.

Ogling men, are we? I must be rubbing off on you, Kingston.

Keane winced, pained by Thalia's low blow, and mentally kicked the muse for her transgression. He wasn't ogling the worker, just admiring the traits which Keane himself lacked. Which were most of them. He blamed his muscleless state on work - Keane didn't have time to go to the gym everyday, like some of these muscleheads.

Yes, lounging, drinking coffee, going to the library... You're just a regular beast of burden, aren't you?

Yak, e.g. Beast of burden. BEASTOFBURDEN.

Ignoring Thalia again, Keane jumped back to his puzzle, filling in seven across with an excited fervor. Another one down, sixteen more to go.

John H. Speke

[RORY O'CONNELL]

Oh the Living and the Dying
How Easily You Bruise

Oh Delia, Don't Go 'Round
When the Devil's Loose

"Yes, please. A medium coffee with two sugars and no cream. Thank you."

Rory smiled to the best of his ability, taking the cup and working his way back to the counter, picking up several other empty utensils and clearing off tables along the way.

It was practically part of the job description that Rory let his mind wander when on the job, and right now it was getting pulled back to the exact reason that he was here in Hollywood, to hunt down any and all of the gods that managed to show up in the area. So far he had yet to track down the source of the natural power that was strong enough to wake up him from his time as a caged zoo animal, and that was disconcerting to say the least. he needed to find time to pick up that scent again, and soon. He was letting that God run rampant in the city, without a single worry or care and not yet a target for Rory's resentment for not being aided when he was slain by Hercules.

All those other gods had been perfectly fine with letting the poor old Nemean Lion die at the hands of a demi-god, but when Castor and POLLUX died oh! There was a big deal made about it and those sons of mortals got put up in the sky. It was so unfair, but now....now he would have his revenge. Each and every one of those little bundles of godly magic would be paying very dearly for being too hoity-toity to get up off their mountain and save a poor, innocent lion for only doing what it was told. He would be the one that was doing the righteous, unabashed murder this time around.

...Right after he returned with this damned coffee that is.

he easily maneuvered through the constantly shifting floor plan of the shop, with chairs and tables being moved and occupied and emptied at only a moments notice. He took no small amount of pride in the fact that not a single drop of coffee was spilled.

"Anything else I ca-"

He deposited the cup on the table but his words halted mid sentence while he lingered only a moment and his eyes washed over the paper the man held. Rory had yet to be aquainted with such a strange creation and was always eager to learn more about how the human world worked.

"What have you got there, sir...?"

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
They say, curiosity killed the cat.
But frankly speaking, aren't we all
guilty of that?
- - - - - - - -

Upon the worker's return, Keane rejoiced at the sight of a fresh cup of coffee. He took it with pleasure, looking down at the steaming contents as his mind ran through the clues of the crossword puzzle. Keane managed a 'thank you' before he returned to working on his little mind game. A noise registered in the background, but it fell on deaf ears. Sixty-eight across. 'Plato's promenade.'

Keane - he asked you a question.

Keane looked up in surprise at the worker. Did he really say something? Indeed, the worker was looking down at him in curiousity, as if a question had been posed.

"What did you say?" Keane asked the man, embarrassment leaking onto his face. "I'm sorry; I didn't hear you."

He asked what you were working on, Kingston.

"Ah, sorry. This is today's crossword puzzle from the Independent. I was working on a particularlly tricky clue when you first appeared."

It was obvious, as the man looked down at the puzzle like a child to a new toy - this was a novel concept to him. Crossword puzzles were almost third nature to Keane - second nature given to his tendency to tell jokes or perform pranks - and it had not occurred to him that everyone in Hollywood did not necessarily know what these black and white boxes were code for.

As carefully as he could, Keane posed a question to the worker. "Do you know what a crossword puzzle is?"

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Keane was no faint-hearted feline, was he?

Curiosity killed the cat by Audrey Heller

[RORY O'CONNELL]

Oh the Living and the Dying
How Easily You Bruise

Oh Delia, Don't Go 'Round
When the Devil's Loose

"Ah, sorry. This is today's crossword puzzle from the Independent. I was working on a particularlly tricky clue when you first appeared."

Rory looked with interest at the mysterious table of colors. He smelled a challenge right there. It looked....fun, and for a creature that had spent the first half of it's life as a lion getting gawked at in a zoo, fun was a rare commodity. he didn't often have something that would challenge him for long. It all just was an easily mastered skill....which of course this would turn out to be. He was foolish for getting his hopes up over something that would probably take such a formidable beast to best.

That was the thing Rory hated. Everything was so damned EASY and yet the humans still found things to whine their heads off about. It was infuriating the way they took every little thing for granted and just assumed that the problems they had were worth mentioning. He wasn't particularly enthused by the use of the word "tricky" either. That was even worse. If it was just barely considered difficult for a human, it was an almost sure sign that he woulc be able to conquer the activity with no effort.

Still....the strange thing had intrigued him, and it would continue to haunt him until he knew that he could finish the thing.

"Do you know what a crossword puzzle is?"

Rory stared at the thing like it was a piece of meat. He WOULD have it. Luckily, he jjust barely realized that he was being spoken too and jerked his head away from the little black and white boxes just in time so as not to appear "creepy" as he had come to understand was the term for it.

"I-er, no....I don't. I haven't come across them...we didn't have them back where I'm from...I'd love to....give it a whirl though."

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
Satire is a lesson,
parody is a game.
- - - - - - - -

"I-er, no....I don't. I haven't come across them...we didn't have them back where I'm from...I'd love to....give it a whirl though."

This was the difficult part - actually explaining a crossword puzzle to someone who had never seen it. Keane really didn't remember the first time he had been introduced to the mind game. He had a vague memory of his father working on them at the dining room table as the Hughes family ate breakfast, but there was a blank space as to exactly when Keane first attempted one.

"Sure! You can help me out!' Keane moved his chair over to make room at the small table, indicating the set next to him. "Here, take a seat."

How is this helping us find the other Hollywood deities?

Keane ignored the muse - he already was going to get hell from her later - and began explaining the crossword puzzle, pointing at the paper when needed.

"Well...You start with these clues here. There are two sets - across and down. This one, seven across, goes here in the puzzle. The clue is "yak, e.g." for which the answer is "beastofburden"."

Thalia began singing in the background.

People asking questions lost in confusion,
Well I tell them there's no problem,
Only solutions.

It was getting hard for Keane to speak and ignore the muse at the same time.

"You fill in the spaces for seven across, then move on to the next one. The more spaces you fill in, the easier the puzzle gets."

Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame. Do you want love or you want fame? Are you in the game?

Keane got up from the table, excusing hisself to the worker, and hurried to the rest room. After the door had shut and he was positive that the room was unoccupied, Keane spoke, glaring into the mirror at his reflection.

"Thalia, would you please shut up? I can barely think."

There was a moment of silence.

If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended. That-

Keane growled in annoyance, banging his hand into the sink in sheer frustration. Another patron entered the bathroom, a confused stare lingering on Keane, whose fist was on the sink and who bore an angry expression on his face, but there was no one else in the bathroom. With a mumbled apology, Keane returned to his table, avoiding eye contact awkwardly with the intruding patron.

Vladimir Nabokov,
John Lennon; Lady Gaga
William Shakespeare

[RORY O'CONNELL]

"Sure! You can help me out! Here, take a seat."

Eyes darting left and right, Rory saw no pressing problems arising in the coffee shop, and why should he? He had kept the place moving with perfect precision, moving in lockstep with utopian ease. He deserved a quick break to mentally jar himself out of this funk. He fell into the chair and eagerly pounced on the offered newspaper like a feral animal.

"Well...You start with these clues here. There are two sets - across and down. This one, seven across, goes here in the puzzle. The clue is "yak, e.g." for which the answer is "beastofburden"."

Rory's eyes scanned across the paper. There were still many white boxes left blank. More than he would prefer. In a situation like this is wasn't difficult to realize what was the enemy here, and he could already feel the hair on the back of his neck start to stand up at the thought that in this battle against the empty boxes, he had so many enemies left to eradicate.

"You fill in the spaces for seven across, then move on to the next one. The more spaces you fill in, the easier the puzzle gets."

Rory listened intently as the rules were explained. Now he understood why humans had invented these. This was so much more challenging than just ripping anything that came to close in half. This was new and exciting. he could take pride in this...assuming he conquered it.

Rory barely noticed when his new tablemate up and left. He was absorbed in the mesmerizing world of black and white. Snatching up the pen that the human had cluelessly left out, he twirled it in between his fingers anxiously, trying to figure out the first clue.

After a few minutes of anxious twitching Rory stopped. he slumped in his chair a bit. This really was quite hard. Damn the foolish mortal that dared create something so obviously unatainable. If rory ever saw him he was viciously rip his throat out for his presumptiousness.

None of these clues madea ny sense. They were all enragingly difficult to understand, let alone answer. Where the hell had that other man gone? Rory needed to make him pay for this treachery.

Seeing him walk back, Rory snarled in hatred.

"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! THERE IS NO WAY TO SOLVE THIS HEATHEN PUZZLE!"

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
- - - - - - - -

"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! THERE IS NO WAY TO SOLVE THIS HEATHEN PUZZLE!"

That was the greeting Keane received as he made his way back to the table. The worker, evidently fed up with the crossword puzzle, was glaring at Keane in frustration and anger. The man was tensed up like a coiled spring, ready to pounce on the first person who dared to touch the sketchy ropes which reigned it in. The situation was beginning to go bad, fast. Keane's lingering annoyance with Thalia disappeared as he tried to make a joke to calm the worker.

"Nay, good fellow, 'tis a game of intelligence and creativity." Speaking in a Elizabethan was a bit of a stretch for Keane - the idea of it was probably hinted at from Thalia's earlier comments. He edged his way back into his seat, taking a sip of his still-warm coffee before continuing.

"But the trick of the game," Keane said, tapping the side of his nose knowingly as he looked at the worker. "is in the answer." He flipped the newspaper page a few pages foward and turned it over. The answers to the crossword puzzle were written out on the bottom right, inscribed in a smaller version of the original puzzle.

Do you REALLY think that showing him where the answers are is going to solve anything?

"Yes," Keane responded without much thought as he was eyeing the puzzle. "Seeing is part of believing, which is why you don't exist."

Another challenge to conquer had arisen - take this man's anger at the nuances of crossword puzzles and transform it into understanding for the game's intricacies and, perhaps, a greater appreciation for it. There was no reason to get flustered over a puzzle, Keane was sure that no such reason existed. It was only a puzzle, printed in plain ink on a piece of paper, and whether or not he answered the puzzle, it did not affect his daily life. Having a list of the answers only verified to the worker that such a puzzle could be solved. Now, as Keane thought intently, all that is left is to figure out how to explain it.

William Shakespeare

[RORY O'CONNELL]

Just barely keeping from jumping to his feet and going full on lion in such a public place, Rory watched the snake slide into the seat again. This tricky mortal didn't know who he was dealing with here! Rory was an ancient monster! By the end of the day, this pitiful excuse for a creature would get what he deserved!

"Nay, good fellow, 'tis a game of intelligence and creativity."

"Now you're just making up words," Rory grumbled, still not happy but starting to calm down. It wouldn't do to destroy the carefully constructed persona he had spent so long building up with one case of lion transformation that he lost control for.

"But the trick of the game is in the answer."

As the man flipped a few pages and pointed knowingly, it took a few moments for the event to fully sink in for Rory. There it was, the miniature grid of black and white, with letters printed neatly in every single box.

he felt the small twitch in his eye muscles before the rest of his body and mind comprehended the event. The answers were all right in front of him. The ANSWERS were all RIGHT in front of him.

IF THE ANSWERS WERE RIGHT THERE THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF WORKING ON THE OTHER PAGE? THIS MADE NO SENSE! THIS WAS JUST A SAD, PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT DIVERTING ATTENTION FOR A MOMENT THAT THEN PROVED TO BE COMPLETELY FUTILE! THIS WAS A SIN! A CRIME AGAINST THE VERY FABRIC OF THE UNIVERSE, TEARING THE DELICATE BALANCE OF EXISTENCE TO SHREDS!

His hand closed on the nearest object, which turned out to be a fork. In blind rage, he stabbed and ripped and wrenched the paper, scrap from scrap, in much the same way the vile object had attempted to rape Rory's mind. He wouldn't let it get away with that! The fork tongs clanged noisily as they banged against the table, but Rory didn't care. This was a fit of blind rage that was WELL warranted.

The stabbing motions began to slow as he became more aware of the stares that were being shot at him and he then looked up at his tablemate, almost meekly.

"... Pardon me?"

[THOMAS VALKER]

Coffee. Coffee was the answer to everything.
Thomas ran his one hand over his face as he used the other to push open the shop's door. The faint tinkling of the bell rang in his ears and he paused to glare up at it for a moment. The bell was mocking him, he was sure of it. With a sigh, he strode into the coolness offered by air conditioning, brown eyes sweeping the room. It wasn't all that crowded at this point, but the lunch hour was approaching. It would fill up quickly at noon. With half a shrug, he settled himself into a table next to one already occupied. For some reason, Thomas never liked being in a secluded corner. If there was one person in a movie theater, he would sit directly behind them. (Apparently sitting next to them just freaked people out.) Restaurants were no exception. He always preferred to quietly eavesdrop on conversations than to simmer in his own boring thoughts. This particular interaction didn't disappoint. As he waved vaugely for a server, muttering his order when she arrived, Thomas kept his keen ears concentrated on the pair beside him.
What kind of person doesn't know crossword puzzles? he mused to himself, a smirk growing on his face. He had attempted his fair share, but they always drove him crazy. The things were invented to frustrate, he was sure...and apparently the other guy thought so too. Thomas' eyes grew wide as the paper was mutilated for daring to pose a challenge and he turned to the other table, one eyebrow raised. The worker's eyes looked positively mad, and he suddenly questioned the sanity behind the hatred of the Independent. Maybe he was sick, escaped from some hospital...No, no he does NOT need help. He doesn't--
"Are you alright, sir?"
Thomas cursed silently before he was suddenly drawn into the concern for the other man. Blinking at Rory, head tilted slightly to the side, there was a flash of color as brown eyes shifted to a dark blue, barely noticeable to someone who didn't know him already. His stupid 'strangeness' acting up again...and this guy wasn't even a tourist!

ATTIRE

[/color] Blue jeans, dark blue shirt, black jacket. General Thomas gear.CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS someday - nickelback NOTES Yeah, Becket...I couldn't stop laughing through this entire thread. x3 Rory is amazing. WORD COUNT LOTS I'm lazy.[/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[KEANE HUGHES]

- - - - - - - -
An ancient dictum says
that when Zeus wanted
to destroy someone,
he would first drive him mad.
- - - - - - - -

Only a sentence was spoken before the man went off into a crazed rage, stabbing at the newspaper with a fork. A fork, really? The man grabbed the utensil from another table, without even glancing at the table Keane and he sat at, completely missing the knife that Keane had used on his bagel earlier.

Better hide that from the maniac over there. Thalia added with a hint of amusement, breaking her vow of silence. We don't want any blood on our hands, or our body for that matter.

Keane nodded with a murmured yes as he slipped the knife into a napkin and placed it on the seat next to him. This was unexpected to say the least.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Another patron was looking at the man with concern. Good. Someone else had noticed his madness and it wasn't just Keane.

I don't think anyone could ignore THAT.

Well, yeah. That was true.

Jean-Marie Le Pen

[RORY O'CONNELL]

Okay, it was okay. Everything was fine. he had stopped creating a scene and if he had learned anything about this world in the time that he had been part of it it was that humans had painfully infantile abilities of retention. Hopefully if he just remained completely motionless for a few more moments they would all turn back around and forget the entire thing happened.

Aaaaany moment now. Any minute and they would all go back to their monotous daily lives and their coffee and forget about him. . .

"Are you alright, sir?"

Good lord. He hated humans. He hated them so much. In the ONE singular moment he needed them to be reliable and follow tradition they decided to break away and be unique and unpredictable and pay attention to something.

He did a quick mental check. He had remained fully human through the ordeal, right? As far as they knew he was just someone who had forgotten himself in a public place. They did this all the time in the privacy of their own homes, right?He was fine. He was fine.

"Oh, no, I'm...Excuse me! I just....LOST IT for a moment there. Just a little tense, you see..."

He looked them over with a sincere smile, trying to memorize faces so he knew who to rip to shreds later that night before they could tell anyone about the bizarre occurrence at the coffee shop. Ooooh, yes, he was fine, or at least he would be once he finished with dinner and had destroyed all evidence of this ever happening.

[THOMAS VALKER]

Thomas raised one eyebrow, leaning over his chair to peer at the man. This was one of the weirdest day he had experienced in a long while, that was for sure. Living in Hollywood, that was saying a whole lot. The guy was okay. Nothing wrong with him, apparently, it would be best just to go back to his coffee. As he tried to pull his mind away from the matter, his 'strange side' pushed back. His eyes seemed to flicker slightly, darting between blue and brown until they settled again on blue. Cursing silently, he attempted to turn his head before realizing that he seemed paralyzed. Just his luck. He couldn't move, but at the same time he was still talking. Blast it, maybe this was just some weird dream.

"Tense? So it would seem..." Who talked like that? "Seems like everyone is this time of year. You'll excuse me, you just seemed a little...dangerous for a moment." Thomas grinned, glancing at Keane for a moment as if begging the other man to help him. "An impresive fight, I must say. I'm sure the Independant never stood a chance."

Thomas cursed to himself, still struggling for control. He didn't logically know why he wasn't in a panic already. Perhaps so many strange things had happened already that this just seemed like the next step. I'm just dreaming, he muttered silently. Pretty soon Camo will jump on my face and wake me up. There was a quiet chuckle and the man would've glared if he could've at the superior tone it held. Then came the voice, the one that had been nagging him since he moved here. Wasn't your consious suppose to have your voice or something?
"You just keep telling youself that, Thomas," it chided. "You're so stubborn, I suppose it'll take a while to break you of the annoying ignorance." Thomas chose to pointedly ignore it, instead concentrating on winning back control of himself. It wasn't exactly an easy battle, like trying to keep a brick wall from advancing. He could push, but he couldn't really make any progress. Blast it, he hated dreams.

ATTIRE

[/color] Blue jeans, dark blue shirt, black jacket. General Thomas gear.
CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you.
LYRICS someday - nickelback
NOTES Pardon my fluff of Thomas talking to...well, in a sense, himself. x3 Hermes is getting rather bored.
WORD COUNT LOTS I'm lazy.[/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]