Before - Legends Faces of the Gods--Shmi's story

Okay, this one shouldn't be exceptionally long, and I know how it goes, so hopefully, it will move quickly.

It starts with a brief Coruscant prologue, but then it's going to move on into what happened to Shmi and how she ended up on Tatooine.


Prologue: The Kavenya

Coruscant, in the dying years of the Old Republic.

The holocams floated around the Senate on their appointed rounds, but today's business would hardly rate a broadcast. No one in the vast Republic cared to hear Outer Rim merchants submitting petitions for enforcement of trade laws, or to hear their Core Worlds suppliers scoff. It was dreary, workaday business, and even most of the Senators didn't particularly care about it.

Crion of Telos was in a particularly vile mood--the Jedi had refused to allow him to visit his son, an apprentice in their Order, even though it was the first time they had been on the same planet in five years--but he had been called by his government to speak on this issue, and speak on it, he would, even if no one was listening. He had their tacit support when it came time to vote.

"Your graces," the young woman from... well, whatever Outer Rim hole she'd said she'd crawled out of... said, "it is imperative that the Republic divert resources to enforcing the laws against piracy. The trade economy is threatened throughout the sector, and the smaller merchants are in fear of their very lives. Pirates steal our merchandise, but that is the least of it. Crews have been slaughtered, or taken into slavery--a practice which I would remind your eminences has been against the laws of the Republic for centuries. We have no droid armies or heavily shielded gunships. We have only faith in the Republic, that it will serve its people and defend them against these bands of outlaws."

There was some muted applause from the woman's compatriots.

Crion signalled for recognition, and as soon as it came through, the box was released upward toward the center of the Senate Dome. When he reached the center level, across from the Chancellor's box, he turned on his broadcaster.

"Senators, delegates, I am Crion of Telos, a simple merchant of the class my esteemed colleague claims to represent."

There were whispers; it wasn't unusual for guests to address the Senate, but it was rare for them to show disdain for Senators. It was a risky approach, but Crion knew that most of the Senators were weary of the issue, and wanted to get it over with. They would hardly care that he, in fact, tended to remain on Telos and send his employees out with shipments, guarded by gunships in his own fleet. The point of the matter was that he had seen to this defense himself, not begged the rest of the galaxy to see to it for him.

"It is true that these lawless creatures are common along the trade routes, and certainly they have made a nuisance of themselves, but we most certainly do not... how was it put?... live in fear of our very lives. Most of us know how to handle a blaster, and have always looked after our own defense. We are burdened already with heavy regulations and complicated diplomatic procedures. I see no scenario in which further interference by the galactic government would be anything but a further burden to us. We can take of ourselves. There is no need to coddle us."

He could see a few heads nodding vigorously. The Neimoidian delegate from the Trade Federation actually stood and clapped. The senator from Naboo--a young man named Palpatine, who always seemed to find a tasteful, understated place in prominent committees--caught his eye and nodded soberly.

Crion opened his arms to his audience. "No one knows better than a merchant that money is not an unlimited resource. There are so many in the Republic in need. Plague has ravaged the world of Tynna. Earthquakes continue to shatter the cities of Ampinua. Famine is rampant on Corellia. All of these worlds need the resources of the Republic. We merchants do not. Please, Senators... use good sense, and put the credits where the need real

 

Bravo JG

I'm very interested to see where you take this since I made an attempt on her story a while back (it was my first full length fic), but found that the story I had meant to tell wasn't working out and was forced to abandon it.

I can see you've thought yours out quite a bit more and it's wonerful, looking forward to more




-~Aanix~-

 

Thanks, Aanix.

I think Shmi's backstory is one of those things we've all kind of toyed with, and I just figured with a brand-spanking-new forum for pre-Saga stuff, it seemed like time to give it a whirl. This is a smidge rough.

-----------
The freighter Kavenya, en route from Barabi to Ryloth. One month later.

Inazkai, the Day of Faces, was Shmi Skywalker's favorite holiday.

It was better at home, where everyone in Valshir came out for parades, wearing their tor-inaz, their god-faces, and dancing in the streets. Shmi had won the children's mask contest twice in a row, when she was eight and nine, and she wore the luck charms she'd been given on a twine bracelet.

But even here on the Kavenya, Inazkai was great fun. Mama wore the Zhera-in, the face of the Comforter-goddess Zhera. Papa had picked an Oreld-in, in honor of the merchant-god ("It may not help," he joked, "but it can't hurt").

The ten Skywalker children--at fourteen, Shmi was the oldest--had spent the week making all the tor-inaz from bits of packing material and circuits from broken merchandise. ("Why throw it out?" Mama had asked after the last raid. "We can find a way to use it." And they had; they always did.) Once the masks were built, nine-year-old Jeztiz, who had a steady hand and a good eye, had painted them with the signs of the gods, from the cradle of Zhera to the gold pieces of Oreld to the firebolt of Anak, the protector. They looked wonderful. Jeztiz had started repainting all the speeders and swoops in Papa's inventory this year, and customers always looked delighted at them.

The masks were lined up along the counter during the meal, glowing a cool blue in the light of the autopilot monitor, and the littler children (especially five-year-old Gorish) were looking over at them eagerly as the family laughed its way through dessert.

"All right, children!" Mama said, standing up and wiping cream from baby Frayin's nose. "All right, have we all had enough to eat? Maybe I should make more vegetables!"

Loud dissent, loudest of all from Papa.

"Masks!" Jeztiz called. "It's face-time!" He got up and ran to the counter, scanning the masks he'd made as though they were in a shop window and he was trying to decide which one to buy. His cloudy blue eyes flashed like lightening in an oncoming storm, and he smiled his impish smile. The moment passed without comment--it was just Jeztiz being Jeztiz--but that eager smile and those flashing eyes would remain with Shmi for the rest of her life, the single image that somehow held inside of itself the world she would lose forever less than an hour later.

Papa laughed. "All right. Pick your faces."

The children all rushed to the counter (Shmi tried for a dignified walk, but she was caught between Taruna and Ozpak and carried along with the tide).

Jeztiz grabbed the Anak-in before anyone else got there. No big surprise there--he loved Anak's dance and had been practicing it all week. The twins, Emalin and Etrisin, picked their namesakes (the sower and the reaper); Reisi chose the face of the beauty goddess, the Gur-in. Shmi grabbed a mask at random. As the eldest, she was expected to let the littler ones have the most fun. Her hand pulled up a gray confection, made from speeder trim, with the sign of the lock and key--the Leil-in, the face the of the hidden god.

The littler ones snatched up the colorful faces of the friendship gods and celebration gods, and Jeztiz pulled on last tor-in from a bag beneath the counter. It was white with the sunrise sign drawn on it, and he'd made it from cloth instead of light metal. His smile brightly visible beneath the elaborate Anak-in, he brought it over to baby Frayin and placed it on her face. She gurgled back at him. "That's the Kroa-in," he told her importantly. "The face for babies. Now you can dance, too, Fray!"

Frayin had no idea what was going on, but Jeztiz was her favorite, just as he was Shmi's, and she caught that he was happy,

 

Wow, an excellent start. There is so much symbolism and foreshadowing that it should be 'heavy' but it reads lightly somehow, gathering everything together in a very entertaining way.

I really liked the way that Crion was in a foul mood anyway, because the Jedi would not let him see his son. And I liked the way that this section shows how the Republic is already starting to fall apart, helped along by selfish people who seem to be acting in their own self-interests and not for the greater good. Crion is rich enough to have his own fleet of gunships, but others are not ... and they're the ones who will be paying the price. *shakes head sadly*

The part where Schmi got the Leil-in mask, the face of the hidden god, and the words to her dance, made me sad somehow; not so much the part about being found when all else is lost, but the sorrow and the grief and the 'paid the cost' part.

I also liked finding out the story behind the name Anakin; a protector god, strong of arm and fierce of sword. The part in the dance where things got too fast and Jeztiz stumbled and fell -- good foreshadowing!

The name Jeztiz reminds me of the word "justice" somehow.

I also thought this was a very good and original idea for a holiday, and a good portrayal of a happy family.

I feel like I'm babbling incoherently, but it's either that or be struck speechless with awe.

 

Thanks, Jane! I never thought about the Jeztez/justice connection. Jeztiz actually is kind of an evolution from a name out of the "Sith Order" stories (Jastiss), and I never thought about the sound of it at all. But it kinda works, doesn't it?

-------------

dissizwirthsum.

nodmuch. waistoftaim, isay. whatterthaycellin, anyway?

Something crashed against the wall, and fell down beside Shmi's face. A mask. The Anak-in, still in its mending clamp. Heavy boots were tramping through the broken games.

sallthis?

kidstuff. jaseeyem upthere? mustabin aduzzen ovem.

Shmi reached out slowly and wrapped her fingers around the Anak-in. She had no reason for it, except that it was familiar, and she was suddenly more frightened than she had ever been in her life. She couldn't seem to move more than a millimeter or two at a time.

The room was filled with a smoky haze, and she could see two humans--giants, she thought--walking around with shadow halos. They were speaking Basic, Shmi thought. An ugly language she'd never been able to follow in school, and had been glad to drop when Papa had brought them out into the travelways.

messilittelthins, arntay?

One of the giants turned, bent down. He reached out an arm toward Shmi.

watsdis?

waddayagot?

nudderwon.

The other giant comes over. Shmi couldn't see their faces through the smoke, but she could tell by the way they were leaning that they were looking at her.

bizimama, one says and laughs.

shoodwikiller?

Both giants appeared to think about whatever question was asked, then the one that seemed to be in charge shook his head.

na. sheezoldern dothers. betsheez priddytu, whenshee heelzup. wecoodcellar.

The leader grabbed Shmi's arm and pushed something heavy off her back, something she hadn't realized was there.

canyuwahk?

Shmi fought for her footing. Her legs seemed to be responding slowly, and her knees felt weak.

iasctyu akweschin!

The hand shook her violently. That's right. A question. He asked a question. Shmi didn't know what the question had been, let alone how to answer it. She raised her head to look him in the eye. He was young, but he looked mean. "Where's my Papa?" she asked.

The two men--not giants, not now that she was upright--looked at each other, and they looked surprised.

sheeduzzint speek--

hukares?

That was the one holding Shmi's arm. He jerked her forward, and her legs buckled. Her knees landed in broken toys, and she could see them starting to bleed. The pain hit a minute later. Her feet and hands were starting to tingle. She wrapped her fingers more tightly around the mask.

Gittup!

She didn' t need to know the exact words to get the impression. She forced herself to her wobbly feet. The one with her arm shrugged.

speekzenuff.

They pushed her out the door into the corridor. The smoke was clearing now, and Shmi could see five or six other pirates in the rooms to the side, rifling through Papa's inventory.

The fear that had paralyzed her a moment ago ripped up through her like a knife. "Where is my Papa?" she begged. Her voice echoed against the walls. "Oh, please, where is my Papa?"

wats sheewant?

The one dragging her laughed about something. imbettin sheeseezit ina minnet.

They pushed her up the narrow stairway that led toward the lounge, and Shmi suddenly wanted to be anywhere else in the galaxy. The mask cut into her hand, but she couldn't make herself loosen her grip.

Diswhat yuwant? the dragger asked her as he pushed her out into the room. Disaboutit?

Shmi's legs gave way and she fell forward, the same despairing pose that began Leil's dance. She couldn't see what she was seeing, couldn't look.

Her head was yanked back hard enough to hurt her neck, and her eyes opened involuntarily.

disevreewon?

Shmi couldn't have answered even if she'd understood

 

Wow! I've just caught up, and like Jane, yep, tons of foreshadowing here. (Another Anakin, a protector, who made a heroic attempt but failed).

I always though Shmi's backstory was an interesting one - notably, her accent and speech patterns, which always seemed out of place on Tatooine. I'd thought about a short involving her and Cliegg but figured I should probably leave it to people like Aanix and yourself to do her justice.

-Tim

 

Okay, I just got caught up and.. wow, I really have no words. I was nearly brought to tears when Jeztiz died in her arms... dear lordy, girl, you know how to work the hearstrings, don't you?

The culture you gave her and her family was beautiful, the names and dances, and I loved the Anak-in idea, it was perfect. I always thought that Shmi would have a rich history, and having Basic be a second language worked well, since she appeared to struggle with it, in a sense, in the films.

The best part so far: your characterization. This is always the biggest concern of mine when reading stories, especially one's which take secondary characters and elaborate on them. But I have to admit, everthing just feels right about the ways she's being written: her love of family, her motherly nature even as a young girl, it's all wonderful.

Looking forward to more


-~Aanix~-

 

I didn't realize that the Skywalker family wasn't speaking Basic until you mentioned Schmi's dislike of the language in this post. So that's where she got her accent from. I also liked the way that you portrayed the pirates' speech, writing it phonetically and running it together, so that we readers can make it out, but it looks like a foreign language. Good technique -- I'll have to remember that if I ever need it one day.

And how my heart stopped when Jeztiz rushed out, but Schmi remembered that she had his mask and that the power was with her not with him. Urgh! But what really got me was the part where Schmi was thinking about how her father had said that he would hand over anything to keep his children safe, and then wondering why the pirates simply couldn't have asked. That was so powerful!

I have to agree with Aanix about your wonderful characterization; everything just feels right.

 

Thanks.

I'm sure I stole the language technique from somewhere. It feels familiar. But I can't for the life of me remember where I saw it. It just seemed right--the hardest thing about listening comprehension with a foreign language, for me anyway, is figuring out what's a word, what's a phrase, what's just a prefix, etc.


-----------

Chapter 1: Akris

The first Basic word Shmi was able to pick up was, "Girl."

She wasn't entirely sure what it meant at first, only that it referred to her: "Girl, geddohverheer! Now, girl!" But she had taken Basic, long ago, and the word started to filter back up into her conscious mind. It had been in one of the useless phrases they'd drilled on: "I am a girl." She had no cause to use the whole sentence--its basic premise was too obvious to state--but she remembered the word. The rest of that dialogue would be useful, she supposed. It had been how to introduce oneself. For the first week of her captivity, she kept her mind occupied trying to remember that phrase as her captors shoved her around the hold, from cage to cage, feeding her some nameless gruel and putting her through exercises to get her into shape. She lost track of time, but she thought she had been through their daily routine of this eight or nine times when she remembered.

"Stebbidup, girl," one of the pirates was saying. "Gitose legstrong."

The phrase came back out of nowhere and apropos of nothing as Shmi stepped up onto the low crate they used to exercise her. When she pulled herself up for the fifth time, she stopped on top of the crate and said, "My name is Shmi Skywalker."

"Reelgud, Shmi Skywalker," the pirate said, and then tapped her knees to make her start the exercise again.

But they did begin to use her name when they ordered her around, which was at least a step up from being "Girl."

Time passed--she lost track even of the routine repetitions--and, by necessity, she began to pick up other words. Eat, cage, go, walk, out, in... Nothing complex, but she was able to avoid cuffs to the side of the head for not obeying quickly enough.

How long was it before she began to understand whole sentences?

She wasn't entirely sure, but her body clock had run its course three times before the day she realized that she had followed nearly an entire conversation that two of the pirates (they never gave her their names) had not far from her cage. It was vulgar talk, but it came through. She knew it because the fear, almost dormant, came back in a rush--they were talking about arriving on a world called Zhemess, and they were talking about Shmi herself.

One of them jerked his thumb back at her without looking. "Bet we can finally take this one out without her looking like her brains leaked out. She's talking these days."

The other one snorted. "I never knew what she was supposed to talk for. Ain't we selling her for a toy? Thought that was why Captain Aste wanted her kept clean and in good shape."

"Yeah, and no one buying her is going to want to try and explain what she's supposed to do if she don't speak Basic. Who wants to spend that much money on a slave just to have her shrieking with her ears covered, the way this one did when we picked her up?" He ran a rod across the bars of Shmi's cage, not quite touching her. "What do you say, beautiful? You understand what we're talking about?"

Shmi understood well enough to pretend not to. She just crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in the corner of the cage.

"We'll get you a pretty dress," he said. "That one you're in isn't looking so good anymore. I bet Captain Aste even lets you keep them old masks of yours. Makes you"--he used a word Shmi didn't recognize and smirked. "Don't know that one, do you?" he said. "Yeah, I can see you picking up a bunch, so you may as well stop pretending. 'Exotic,'" he repeated. "Means all strange and unusual. Say it."

Shmi glared at him.

"Say it."

"Iksawtik," Shmi said.

"Practice."

Shmi muttered the word to herself

 

This is a very nice story! I like reading about characters you don't get to know very well in the films, and Shmi is one of those I've always wondered about. How did she become a slave, and how come she is such a gentle person although she's obviously been a slave for such a long time?

I also liked the fact she didn't understand Basic at first. I've had the same experience trying to learn english, so I could really understand her there.

Looking forward to more!

 

I don't know what to think about this planet Zhemess; they're planning to sell Schmi here as a "toy" and yet one of the pirates mentions "priestesses" -- two things that don't quite fit together in my mind. I wonder who will buy her, and what exactly they'll want with her. It can't be too bad, not if the Force is whispering that she'll be safe here. Or can it? It depends on what she's safe from, perhaps. She could still be miserable.

I wonder if these "priestesses" have anything to do with the Force -- if the Force is strong here on this planet and that's why it's now talking to Schmi, so to speak?

I also liked the details of learning the new language here. It sounds very similar to what I went through learning German; being able to hear how it's pronounced correctly, but not being able to say it correctly yourself.

I also liked the detail of the exercises, having Schmi step up onto a crate. Sounds like they're not just trying to maintain her status quo, but actually improve it -- I know it's just for the money, but it makes these particular slavers seem just a little bit less heartless somehow, even if they are rough and vulgar. I can definitely think of worse things that could happen to Schmi, in comparison.

And she gets to keep the masks? What a relief!

 

Wow, wonderful story JG! The character of Shmi has always been an enigma to me (much like her son!). How one can stay so gentle and caring in the bitter world she lived in was beyond me, although Watto seemed to be one of the better masters. The first time I saw TPM, I saw where Leia got her strength and resilience from, IMO.

I love how you've got her strength down pat in your characterization, and also how she keeps her wits about her, as she knows she must.

The idea of Anak-in being the protector god is perfect. I can see how she would later come to see her son as an "avenging angel" so to speak, and it speaks to her determination that he was "special". Bravo!

PS - I'll have to add this to my list of faves along with "Coming Home".

 

Great post, JG, I loved how you explained her aquisition of the language, very accurate.

I am a little puzzled as to her destinaztion... but that's kind of the point, I believe

Looking forward to more,
-~Aanix~-

 

The sense of being protected lasted while the pirates found her a new dress, while she cleaned up and put it on, even while they herded her outside with the rest of the cargo (two other slaves were brought, blinking, from other holds). It held as she was loaded onto a flatbed hovercraft, and bounced across the rocky outlands of Zhemess. She had time to see beauty in the golden sunlight as it arced and played through the ever-present mist.

It shattered when the small caravan came to a stop in a barren stretch of land that had become, at least for the moment, a market. The golden mist took on the harsh tones of lights in a smoky tavern, and the calls of the hucksters sounded like crashing steel.

The voice that had comforted her seemed absent, and she reached for it desperately, not knowing what she was doing, only that the voice had been there, and she needed it back.

Shmi had been traveling with Papa long enough to know an outlands market when she saw one... and this was one that Papa would have forbidden all the children to enter, made his excuses as quickly as he could, and left without trading more than was necessary for fuel to the next world. "I try to avoid them," he'd said to her once when she'd wanted to know why they'd stopped at all, if he wasn't planning to set up their wares. She'd had a strong feeling that they'd be able to make good sales, and she'd been miffed that Papa had ignored her. "I didn't know about this one," he said, "or I would have told you when you brought it up. We could sell there. You were right. But there are markets no one with a conscience would exploit."

Shmi had seen a woman in a cage, and Papa had refused to explain who she was and what she was doing there.

Shmi hadn't given it a second thought until now, when she was the woman in the cage--well, not actually, not right now, but it was the same--and she understood suddenly why Papa had been in such a hurry.

Her heart tripped along far above its normal speed.

I am going to be sold. Like a speeder. Like Papa's games. I'm going to be someone's toy, I...

She was shoved into the square, where fans dissipated the mist and she could see more clearly than she wanted to. Locals strolled around, looking at the various items the pirates had stolen. Shmi could hear them making bids, and was bitterly satisfied when the pirates undersold one of Papa's speeders--one that Jeztiz had painted carefully only a week before he died. They got at least two thousand credits less than Papa would have taken for it, easily.

But maybe not here.

The locals looked rough--dirty and vulgar, hard-eyed and crude.

Please, she whispered to whatever Face the galaxy had tried to show her. Please, oh, please, help me... Anak, protector, Leil, hidden... am I heard?

She didn't know what she was asking the galaxy to do for her, or even if she believed. But from beyond her--she was quite certain of that--some semblance of calm returned to her mind. You are safer here than elsewhere. You will see why.

The pirate who had been speaking by her cage earlier shoved her forward. "Get used to it, beautiful. Zhemess is an exile world, and the folks here aren't even wanted by the dregs of society. Tynna turned them out. Ampinua turned them out. Hell, even Tatooine turned them out, and that dust ball will take anyone." He prodded her with a blaster, and pushed her up onto a block. "And now you're even lower than them," he said, then turned to the crowd, and started calling out in Basic and a few other languages. Human girl, fourteen years old, healthy! Strong! Pretty, isn't she?

Shmi stood with her chin forward and her hands clasped at the small of her back. A few men of various species started to wander over, none looking seriously at her. A Gran with only one remaining eyestalk used it to ogle her, but it was no more serious than an adolescent boy on his first job looking at a custom speeder. Putting it on his wish list.

Shmi grimaced.

As she wat

 

Ack! First you lull us into a sense of security, make us think that the best thing that could happen to Schmi is for her to be noticed by one of these 'priestesses', and then suddenly, you bring in the mask of Death. What a shock! But there must be a way for her to be safe here, otherwise the Force wouldn't tell her so.

Zhemess is an exile world, huh? What could people do that is so bad that they would not be tolerated even on Tatooine? And are the priestesses here really just greedy, avaricious women, trying to get money by cheating, or do they have another reason for advising their customers in the way that they do? Interesting! I wonder why the pirates would want to sell their slaves here -- besides the fact that it's outside the Republic, of course. Is there so much money on Zhemess that they can hope to get a good price? They do seem to know their market here, though; first they had Schmi doing leg exercises, now the pirate is pointing out to the Wookiee how strong her legs are. (Loved the phrase 'like a particularly fine roast'.)

I really admire the human details you give your stories -- the way you describe Schmi's father and what he avoided, for instance, or the Gran who was looking at Schmi like a boy at a customized speeder, putting it on his wish list, the way Schmi thinks that the woman must be waving at something else. I don't know how to describe it, but these details make the story come alive and give it depth.

 

All right. I'm hooked on this one now.

Fantastic story so far, JG! I love your writing style. It's so simplistic yet descriptive at the same time.

Can't wait for more!!

 

I'm glad I finally found what you're up to these days, JG!

This is looking very interesting. Rough, vivid, even unsettling, but true to your penetrating style and characterization.

Could this "Mask of Death" be related to our old pal Maul's getup? Do these "priestesses" have something to do with the Force (or the Dark Side), and felt Shmi with that? Or are they of the same beliefs as Shmi's family, and merely recognized one of their own?

EDIT: I don't believe I missed this at first - your mask ritual not only makes a great premise for Anakin's name, but actually helps foreshadow everything. Anak is the protector, like we hope Ani will be, but Anak-in is the mask of the protector, with the incredible allusion to Ani's future with masks... Who is really behind the mask, which is the mask and which the real face? I should have expected no less of you, JG. Beautiful!

I know I'm gonna enjoy this, as usual, so I'll just wait patiently...

 

Great chapter JG! It will beinteresting to see how she gets from this world to Tatooine!

 

Really interesting story! Now, Obi-Wan has a rival for the "most tragic character of SW" title. (not that we mind it of course, creating tragic heroes, who, even after all end well, cannot claim that Fate was kind to them, is one of the real strength of GFFA).

I'll read, of course (ouh, it is hard to find the good stories in this new structure

 

Thanks, all!

ouh, it is hard to find the good stories in this new structure

In six months when we have the review, definitely bring that up.

 

So, I have enough time to get used to it Really, I must praise JC- they know how to manage changes effectively...

 

JediGaladriel - this is really an unusual and well-written piece. I'm very glad that you've posted it and look forward to more.
The mask scene was incredibly sad to me. All the time I was reading it, I just knew that Shmi's world would be shattered to bits like the masks. To lose all of your family in such a way seems heartrending. To tell you the truth, it took me a while before I could come back to it - it was so powerful.

But now I am looking forward to the next post with great anticipation!!

I love your descriptions and the way you sprinkle bits of Shmi's memories through the fic. Keep it up.

 

WHOA...I am in awe, JG...wow. The way you've just woven everything together here...wow...

*looks at story longingly* I WILL write like that someday, I WILL write like that someday...

 

Thanks, that's sweet.

I have the .doc open now, and plan to finish up a scene before I go to sleep. That may not happen, but it's the plan.

 

*grins*

*eagerly awaits more*