The Writing Desk discussion

The world was filled with beauty, and the world was full of darkness; of ugly, bitter truths. This, this space of books and wood and dust, this was one of the most beautiful places on earth, sheltered from prying eyes, only visited by a few, but still loved and kept after. The girl, Kim, seemed to understand that, to see that this section of the world was special, even if there were a million more out there, tucked inside of every institute across the globe; none of them were visited by the average person.
Thus, when she pulled the book toward her, Ash couldn't help but grin.
"I assure you," he amended, laughing lightly, "that it won't fall apart. It is designed to last far longer than it has already, to teach centuries of young nephilim. This one's only been around for, at most, seventy years. Lord only knows why we needed a new commission, but this one's it. If you want truly old, London's got quite the collection."
He grinned, remembering the one and only time he had set foot in said institute, making a pitstop on his way toward home, having been on a small trip. He had run straight to the library and read a very large number of books all through the night, not even reaching one millionth of the collection in such a short time, but he had read their codex.
Someone named W.H. had scribbled quite a few notices within the pages.
Ash had found them quite amusing.
"And, no, there isn't a section. Start wherever you'd like, though I recommend cover to cover, just to make it less confusing. It'll explain everything you need ever know."
Indeed, it would.
It would show her the dark, deep, demanding side of the earth, the part she had only just skimmed the surface of as someone with the sight. There were far worse things in this world than even Ash dared to imagine.
Turning toward Terry, he asked a most irrelevant question:
"Is anybody else starving?"

Kim did not relinquish the way she was holding the book, she didn’t understand how he could be so confident no matter how well a book was designed it could still be destroyed damage door and someway harmed. And books that were this old we’re always precious even more so a new were books. There are many such books at her library though she couldn’t help shake the feeling that there was something extraordinary in this room maybe even in her arms.

However it probably didn’t stop at her arms either. Her face read and then she moved to lay the book down so she could read it. “Huh? Uh, yeah. I have an eaten since breakfast this morning... or yesterday?” She realize she didn’t even know what time of day it was. How long she’s been unconscious where in the city she was. More than that though she was starting to actually act a little bit like a normal person responding dialogue and not seeming quite so defensive. Still understandably on guard.

Terry who could never get out of the library fast enough, wasn’t that he hated books but, studying and learning from them was not his idea of a good time. As such when the mention of food Was brought up he all but jumped at the opportunity. “I’ll go get us something!” The eagerness he always showed to get out of the library was almost as if he was afraid of the place, is it something from the books was going to come out and grab him.

"Still this morning," Ash confirmed, nodding his head, "we shall return."
Within seconds, he had lept from the bannister and plummeted his way down, landing in a light crouch, no wings required.
Shadowhunters could fall from very great heights without coming to harm; the cats of the mortal race.
"Coming?" he shouted up to Terry before darting away.
He seemed to have an endless abundance of energy, despite having been tired only moments ago.
"What are we making?" he asked the air before him, aiming for what was assuredly dogging behind.
"Pasta, soup, fish, eggs, spinach?" Ash inquired, raising a brow as he entered the kitchen, "Fried ice cream?"
He shook his head.
"Never mind, I can't even be sarcastic about this. Food just isn't funny... It has no character..."

Kim stared in astonishment. He had wings he spoke of Neflin more than once she was holding a book that was supposedly quite old though this place had the sense of strange power and he fought demons. She just watched as Terry did not make the leap but slid down almost as quickly racing to keep up. She stared at the door as they left through it, but her attention drifted back to this book in her arms so she sat down and opened it page 1.

Terry shook his head in disbelief. “Did you seriously just say fried ice cream and fish in the same sentence?” He made one of those faces the child would make after tasting something incredibly nasty. “It’s morning how about eggs and bacon and some sausage and toast?” Maybe he was a little bit traditional but he liked having breakfast for breakfast and lunch for lunch. Dinner could be just about anything though.

Ash shook his head again, this time with a grin.
"So food is funny," he noted, his smile going crooked, "but it still doesn't have character."
He took an egg out of the carton to prove his point, staring at it intently.
"How do you cook these?" he asked earnestly, raising a brow, "I believe I've never learned..."
It was sad, but true.
Very, very true.

Terry’s jaw dropped in possibly the most comical fashion. His blue eyes gazed at the famous demon slayer before him, who didn’t know how to make eggs. He ran a hand through short spiky black hair shaking his head and moving to snatch the egg from him. “Observe.” We wear that he was want to teach but, he might’ve should’ve been a little nicer about it but it was ridiculous, everyone knew how to make eggs. Unless they’ve lived in the country they didn’t have eggs. Surely he had eaten eggs before?

He pulled out a glass bowl a whisk took the cake topped it firmly against the side of the bowl cracking it and using his index and thumb to split it perfectly to drop the contents into the bowl and then chopped the egg shells into the trash. “Typically most people get them scrambled because almost everyone likes scrambled, this is called sunny side up without it being scrambled and over easy is basically where you cook it and then turn it upside down before it’s finished. Scrambled you just start mixing it until it’s pretty much yellow goo...” he handed him the bowl in the whisk so he could attempt to do these egg thing himself. Though the idea occurred to him that perhaps he should make his own food because more than likely there was going to be a lot of egg shell in Ash’s.

Ash tilted his head, looking very much like an inquisitive puppy, not able to recall the last time he had received instructions.
"I don't want to 'observe'", he noted, rolling his eyes, but that wasn't necessarily true.
Apparently, cooking food was quite the show.
Ash had never seen anyone cook anything. Charlotte usually cooked, and when she didn't he simply ate take-out. He didn't have time for food.
To be honest, there were probably foods he couldn't name.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ash inquired, holding the bowl at arms length, staring at the contents, "It looks like Mantid guts. Which, by the way, are not pleasant. At all. Also, I would probably burn down Charlotte's kitchen... then she really would kill me."
He awaited a reply, still staring at the eggs.

Terry stared at him in disbelief. Was he seriously reluctant to make eggs? “You don’t need to burn anything, you break the eggs, put them i. The bowl minus the shells.” He made sure to point out the ones he threw in the trash already. “Then you ‘scramble’ it with a fork. Then you can just put it in a microwave.” True it wasn’t as good as stove made, but he didn’t want Charlotte killing him for telling Ash to use a stove. “Come on, you don’t want to say a rookie like me is better than you at something like this right?” Maybe if he spoke towards his ego, the guy would grow up and just do it already!

Kim was devouring the book with her eyes darting to and fro. She was a decently fast reader, and she reread many things to make sure she ‘retained’ what she read. She laughed, stared in disbelief and smirked. The little bits of commentary were quite humorous, the way of ShadowHunter history and this angel was astonishing, but the smirk was because it confirmed things she had always believed, though she had never heard the term down worlder, still... werewolves, vampires, demons... all things she had already knew existed.

"Oh."
Ash couldn't help but say the first word that flitted through his brain, shrugging his shoulders and setting the bowl on the counter and grabbing his own.
"If we don't need to burn anything-"
He stopped, smirking.
"Though, on second thought, that would be entertaining."
He grinned even wider, devilishly, before shrugging once again.
"The microwave seems like a safe bet...did you just take a stab at the few intact remains of my reputation?"
He raised one brow, laughing in disbelief. Usually, the individuals who daunted to cross that ground ended up with a blade through their chest. Or head, neck, heart, other vital appendages.
Then again, those were all demons. All of them.
This was Terry.
Most people just rolled their eyes and gave in, afraid that Ash would leap at their throats despite the law and kill them right then and there; a cold blooded monster.
The kid had guts. Or intellect. Ash wasn't sure which.
Either way, he grabbed a few eggs from the confines of the refrigerator and cracked them against the granite, spilling the contents into his bowl and then beating them with a fork.
"I believe there is more egg on the counter than within the dish," he said dramatically, task complete, placing a hand over his heart and assessing the damage, "the consequences are sure to be fatal: more cleaning."
Not that he had done any in the first place, but still.
He detested the very idea of 'tidying up', as people seemed to enjoy calling it.
"What a way to sugar coat it," he though, absentminded, thoughts straying.
It was quite the euphemism.

((XD "...but he didn't want Charlotte killing him for telling Ash to use a stove." XD))

Terry wasn’t a coward, but he didn’t purposefully get on peoples bad sides, however he knew Ash and despite how scary he was to the demon world, down worlders, and many other Shadowhunters, he knew the guy was really nice. After all, he hadn’t killed him for all his stupid mistakes when he first started, he had to be the klutziest Shadowhunter ever! Though he had improved significantly, but not without consequences. Thankfully Ash saved his hide numerous times. “Did I ever tell you that you would have made a great Soap Opera actor?” He dared to tease the man. A rare crooked smirk on the youths face. It was only ever seen by Ash, the rest of the time he seemed overwhelmed, terrified or just flat out timid.

He wasn’t sure why, but the way Ash spoke with him. How kind he was even when being gruff or annoyed. It was more... like a family. Something he had never really had. Oh he had blood relatives, but he wished he hadn’t. The brothers he had before coming here, how he wished he could have had Ash as his brother, sure it would be tough, but... it would be a sweet dream compared to his home. Maybe that was why he was such a ‘people pleaser’ with Ash and Charolette, partially afraid the first people who had been remotely civil tp him would get tired and want him to leave...

He hadn’t realized, but he had zoned off so intensely he was probably ‘over scrambling’ his eggs, if that was even possible? But thinking about his dad, his mom, his brothers. Being the youngest, unwanted son, the weakest, smallest, and most ‘girly looking’....

Ash grinned, rolling his eyes.
"I would, wouldn't I?" he pondered aloud, nearly laughing at the thought, "what a shame I'm stuck here, scrambling eggs and killing demons, saving the world. Soap Opera sounds much more important... Somebody, file a retirement form! I have moved to the stage!"
He laughed then, unable to contain himself, ruffling Terry's hair slightly.
If only a retirement were possible.
From the dour expression on the kid's face Ash thought that maybe their minds were in sink...
"What's up?" he inquired, a seriousness filling his tone, worried for a moment, "what's going on up there?"

((btw, how old is Terry? XD))

Terry blinked, eyes darting up. For the smallest of moments there was fear there. However quickly it was gone. In truth he was more jumpy around guys because of how badly his brothers hassled him. He never talked about, but it had been obvious he didn’t like talking about his family. He pretended he had never been anywhere but the street. Though he obviously wasn’t the most street smart, he had a lot of spirit. And was incredibly kind, to a fault even. So much so that he was afraid to be anymore, so he couldn’t be ‘used’ again.

“Huh? What? Oh, nothing. Just zoning out.” Partially true, he had always been the sort to just ‘check out’ at times, loosing himself in random thoughts and rabbit trails. Good and bad ones. He quickly smiled at Ash, perhaps too quickly, it didn’t seem quite natural. “Well then, you making eggs for the new girl too?” He assumed she was staying, after all he was showing her the shadowhunters codex, that told him that weather she liked it or not, she would be becoming one. That was often how it worked after all. Keep the secrets, and control those who know by making them a prt of the war.

((17. Lol sorry! XD i may make him a profile ^_^ but basically he came from a bad home situation, and one night ran away when he was 15, he ended up getting tangled with some down worlders and helped them commit crimes. Nothing big, but enough to help them stay fed and keep warm in an alley. He saw them as a family, but in truth they just used him since he was ‘nice trustworthy looking kid’ easy to manipulate. They ditched him as He was attacked by a vampire and Ash saved his hide xD thats what I’m thinking anyway if it’s okay with you?))

Ash looked into Terry's eyes, watching the emotions flash within, wishing that he could do something, anything, to change the past.
Subconsciously, he knew that there wasn't much of an age gap between himself and the boy before him, but in shadowhunter years that time was equivalent to an eternity. They started schooling at eight, considered adults at eighteen.
Ash could have spread his wings and skipped town a long time ago, literally and figuratively, but he had decided to stay.
For some reason, he had the intense desire to hug the kid.
So he did, not entirely sure how his actions would be perceived.
"Don't lie to me," he muttered, not quite sure how he knew...
He just did.
It was a wonder the two of them weren't parabathi, two souls bound together in the friendship of warriors, knowing the other's thoughts and feeling their pain. It was a bit like having a twin.
Ash had given it thought before, a few years back, but had decided that the link would only drag its recipient down, put them in constant pain. Especially since Ash was crazy enough to seek out danger, welcome pain, and pray for death.
It was a daily routine.
If changed, his whole being would have turned out different. Unfortunately, he was rather pleased with the way he was. For now.
Not for the first time, he wished he had the patience of angels, the purity, but it seemed that his liniedge had failed him in that department. He appeared to have a lot more in common with the monsters he hunted than the saviors he worked for, not that he was complaining, but he was.
It was what he did best.
Complaining, that is.
Stepping back, he held his non biological brother at arms length and granted him a lopsided grin.
"Unfortunately enough for her," he admitted, shrugging one shoulder in hummored indifference, "maybe they'll combust."
Laughing, he let Terry go and glanced at him sideways, gauging a reaction.

((works with me XD Ash though... basically: "i'm 18... I'm older. even if it is only by a year..." that's me with my sister XD))

Terry froze, as Ash hugged him. It wasn’t that he disliked the hug, but it was... still a show of kindness, family. Kt was foreign to him and strange. And now, strange emotions tried to rise. He pushed them down as roughly as he could manage. In truth Ash was the one guy he’d ever trusted. Even though of as a possible friend, let alone this almost natural brotherly bond that had begun to form since he came here. Guilt hit him in a tidal wave when he said not to lie. “I- ... sorry.” He mumbled, sounding a lot like he had when he was younger.

It was only what, a year and a half ago? But it felt like a whole different life. He loved being a ShadowHunter, it felt like his life actually had a meaning. It wasn’t just some waste of space, like his brothers insisted. He scoffed the joke seeming to relax more. If Ash asked him, he’d do anything. Kinda like a puppy who loved the first person to actually pay attention to him. That’s what Ash was, whether he realized the power he held over the youth or not remained to be seen. “Well if you heat them too long they will turn green and hard.” He smirked. “Add milk, and stir ever minute to minute and a half and that should work.” He was actually good at cooking, but more thanks to him being told to do ‘woman’s work’ only now did he realize just how sexist and idiotic his family was.

There was still a distance to him, though he tried to force himself back to the present. Leaving the past. “So... Is there a rune that can make you forget certain things... or people?” It was the first time he asked about runes. He had been looking through the books, but if he could manage to forget his old family, maybe at last he would be free.

((Hehe, aww, ^^ ))

"Don't apologize," Ash told Terry, his expression soft, remembering a time when the kid's presence had been absent; roaming the streets with scoundrels rather than hanging around the institute, an ever helpful presence. He had told the boy then, less than two years ago, to never feel indebted, to never thank him. Apologies felt like something that were to fall beneath that list.
For the most part, Terr did everything Ash told him to. Sometimes, however, the kid just had too much heart, too much faith.
It was a weakness that Ash could only accept with open arms, for it was far better than the alternative.
"Green eggs?" he found himself wondering aloud, sounding far too excited for his own liking, "that would be interesting. Not as good as combustion, but what is available will do... Green it is then."
He gave a sideways smile, mischievous as always.
Leave it to Ash to aim for the worst possible outcome.
Though, deep down, he knew there would likely be no intently green eggs within the future.
"Not that I recollect," he replied as Terry asked about wiping memories with runes, "though warlocks can cast spells to block certain moments from someone's brain, but the effect is mostly temporary. Why?"
It had only just occurred to him that the question had been out of place, but that didn't mean that he was going to let it slide. Once Ash targeted something, he was bound and determined to pin it down, return it to where it belonged.
Words were of no exception.
Especially when produced by someone he cared for.
Intently, he gazed into the other boy's eyes, a silent dare to turn away or avoid the truth written within the metallic depths of his eyes, mixing with a silent promise of understanding and genuine concern.
"Why?" he asked again.
This time, the question held much more weight.

Terry had to stop himself for saying sorry to the fact that he told him not to apologize. If only he knew how much some of the others genuinely thought of him. Things like that he had a lot of heart. Instead he was stuck looking at the world through his own skewed lens. Dirtied by trauma and growing up the way he had. Though didn’t everyone have some kind of smudge on the lens that they viewed life? Whatever that happened to them in their youth changing how they viewed reality to an extent?

“Only you would want nasty green eggs. If you just want to look green we can get some food dye though and then we can read the Dr. Seuss story green eggs and ham...” he managed a small boyish smirk at the reference he made whether it was received and understood or not.

“It’s-“ however the second word which was intended to be nothing, the brushoff of the question died in his throat as his eyes locked with Ash’s. It wasn’t that it was a mean look, but it was a look he had known better than to ever question or refuse. “Uh...” He squirmed internally. “I would rather forget some things from my childhood is all...” he quickly tried to turn away to sit his bowl on the counter and move to get some milk from the fridge hoping that the somewhat vague answer would make do.

"Some things are better forgotten, but unable to be forgot," Ash replied, eyes like tempered steel as he recollected specific things that he rather would have forgotten a long time ago, before he understood their importance, "It's those moments that make us who we are. If you change them..."
He dropped off, not wanting to think of a Terry that was anything other than, well, Terry:
There was simply no other way to explain it.
Letting the matter slide, he turned back to his bowl of uncooked eggs and poked them with a fork experimentally, watching them slosh about languidly.
"I cannot be the only soul alive who wants these to change color," he stated factually, wrinkling his nose slightly, "they're an alarming shade of sunshine yellow. Which is great, for eggs, but kind of bland, you know? Green would be much more entertaining..."
He poked at the eggs again and then raised a brow.
"Dr. Seuss?"
Doctors were a mundane thing. Silent Brothers were the shadowhunter equivalent.
Ash made a face.
"Who is Dr. Seuss? I mean, obviously mundane, but how in the world did he find it worth his time to write about green eggs? And, if he did, he must have liked them so there stands my point; I am not the only one."
He grinned triumphantly before producing yet another question:
"How do you turn ham green?"

Terry didn’t want to admit it but he was right, I didn’t make anything easier though. His stomach muscles tightened uncomfortably but he retrieve the milk and poured some into his eggs just a small splash and as he was moving to set it next to Ash, so he could do likewise he stood there job dropped. “You’ve never heard of Dr. Seuss?” He looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head and it had said ‘howdy’ to him. “No... it’s a children’s book, he wrote weird rhymes and seeming gibberish, but then it had like a moral and... no the eggs were all that were green, not the ham, its green eggs.... and ham. As in with ham. Also it was just a book about being willing to try new things. Not just saying you don’t like it just ‘because’...” He shook his head from side to side. “That settles it, I need a bookstore or... library run. You have not been properly educated!” Maybe he was taking us a little too seriously but come on Dr. Seuss! Next he was going to hear that the guy had never heard of McDonald’s or something!

Ash took the jug of milk, spilling some into his bowl of goo, adding possibly a fraction too much. Or more than a fraction.
"No, I've never heard of Dr. Seuss," he admitted, shrugging, "shadow hunter children's rhymes tend to be more along the lines of:

'Black for hunting through the night

For death and mourning the color’s white

Gold for a bride in her wedding gown

And red to call enchantment down.

White silk when our bodies burn,

Blue banners when the lost return.

Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,

And to wash away our sins.

Gray for knowledge best untold,

Bone for those who don’t grow old.

Saffron lights the victory march,

Green will mend our broken hearts.

Silver for the demon towers,

And bronze to summon wicked powers.'

So far and so forth. Lilith, the angels, multiple gods from about the world, dark, death, and shadows. Plus a lot of Latin. A lot of Latin."
He smirked, not sure how mundane children could thrive on something less.
Maybe they benefited from more with their silly books.
One could only guess.
"I haven't been properly educated?" he inquired, raising a brow, "and who keeps the silly little humans alive to be 'properly educated'?"
It was a rhetorical question, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless.
"Besides, it's too late for a library run, and I would have to avoid using glamours just for the sake of driving. We can do so in the morning, after we've made eggs."
He grinned, knowing he would likely be held to his word the following morning.
"And then we can get premade food."
An added bonus.

Terry shook his head. “If you like that you’ll like the ‘mundane’ ones, but those are even mpre creepy. I mean seriously? Bone for someone that doesn’t grow old? What the heck, it’s almost as bad as ‘rockabye baby on the tree top’...” He arched his brow at the ‘retort’ Ash gave. “Still doesn’t mean you haven’t been denied. I mean, seriously? They should teach you guys the normal things! How else are you supposed to get the world you’re supposed to be protecting? You guys are almost as bad as the wizards in Harry Potter not understanding Muggle technology!” Yes, he knew Harry Potter, more from The movies than books, he couldn’t help it, he got bored easily!

He shook his head and huffed. “Right, but what are you gonna do about... ‘her’. You said you couldn’t keep her here, but you know that’s not true, it wouldn’t be the first time an Institute kept someone against their will, until they ‘saw reason’.” He added knowingly, leave it to Terry to remember the darker parts of the practices that could and had taken place.

((Nice rhyme! Is that from the books or did you make it up?))

((It's in the books ^-^ Though I do wish I could come up with something nearly as fascinating XD))

"Oh, it's worse," Ash grinned, "much worse."
Shadowhunters had quite the repute for morbid ways:
It helped them accept reality at a young age.
"We do study them, somewhat," he continued, shrugging, "just not in the all consuming academic way that people expect. Our role is to watch and protect from the shadows, far in the distance. We don't interact, and we don't intervene. It's quite like being a guardian angel."
He had no other words to use as a description.
Indeed, that was what it was like, being a guardian angel:
If only the experience could compare.
"What is 'Harry Potter'?" he asked, sidetracked momentarily. 'Muggles', he assumed were normal people, not unlike their own 'Mundanes'.
To each their own.
Shaking his head, he continued.
"I'm not sure what to do with 'her'. Which, by the way, is known as 'Kim'. And, we can't keep her here. It's against the law. Unless, of course, Charlotte truly does notify the Clave and they decide she's worth keeping. Otherwise, she can be left out in the mortal world and forget about us over time, just like the rest of them."
He shrugged as if it made no difference to him:
Perhaps it didn't.
"How long do we cook these for?" he asked now, popping his bowl into the microwave with some contempt.
This would be quite the interesting lesson.

“Ah! You don’t know what Harry Potter is?!” He literally shouted at him. “Have you even seen a movie? Watched TV?” How was he just now learning this! All this time they had been training him, but if Ash and Charlotte didn’t know these common place things... oh man.. . He felt dizzy. Not it was his turn to do some teaching! Though he was thrown off by the mention of the girls name.

“Yeah, well ‘she’ is dangerous!” He took care not to say her name, sort of like a puppy, if you didn’t name it you couldn’t get attached and it was easier to stay indifferent. “Or did you forget the black ooze and pile pf ashes she left? Hey! You never said what that ‘Aha’ earlier was about?” He shook his head. “Set it on a minute and cook, stir/rescramble and repeat until fluffy and no more liquid.” He moved closer now. “What was it, what did you figure out? Is she like part down worlder? Part demon?”

((Same, I have wrote poems, but they were much of a different breed))

Ash blinked, startled.
"No," he admitted, but it came out as more of a question than an answer, "why would I? I mean, the institute isn't supposed to even be allowed electricity, much less movies or television or computers, though I'm not going to say that we don't use our phones. Even Idris has one of those..."
He shrugged, half-heartedly, and turned his attention to the microwave, pushing the "quick minute" button rather than hitting 1,0,0, start.
The latter took too long.
"Besides," he continued, crossing his arms and watching the bowl spin round and round in the sickening light, "it's not like I need modernity. Modernity needs me. I don't need to understand it, or even be a part of it, so long as I preserve it. But, we'll go to the library tomorrow, and then I guess we'll see, yeah?"
His tone was mutual, matter-of-fact, just grazing the philosophies of the near future, attempting to make amends.
The kid was still knew to the whole 'being a shadowhunter' thing.
He'd learn. Eventually.
As for the girl, Ash wasn't quite so certain. He didn't have the first clue about her heritage or her powers, the dangers she could pose.
"I don't know," he admitted, slowly and calculated, drawing out what he wanted to say before letting it tumble over his lips, "the ooze thing was alarming, sure, and I can feel that something's off, but Kim hardly seems like she intends to end the human race or destroy all shadowhunters, so she's not as bad as every demon I've killed ever, right? And I didn't figure anything about her out, I just used a tracking rune to asset her location. She could have gone anywhere, and I don't know the first thing about her, let alone where she would have gone. The front doors would have been my best guess, but that would have been wrong, and some of the doors here lead straight into nothing. Literally. Granted, most of those are locked, but not all, and I'm not taking that chance when I can just figure it out in two seconds flat with some sort of connection to the person I want to find. The institute is far too big for a search party..."
He paused, taking a breath and then letting his arms fall to his sides, turning to prop himself up against the counter with a sigh.
"It's a problem I don't know how to solve," he admitted, head bowed in concentration, "but we'll get there. Promise."
If anything, Ash was a man of his word, and he wasn't one to break a promise. He would figure this mess out on his own if he had to, walk through Hell itself and back again wearing a grin if it meant that he had kept his word.
That was what the Nephilim did.
For they were nothing more than dust and shadows.
((Same here! XD Sorry this took so long...))

Terry sighed. Not truly satisfied with the answer he got, but what else could he expect. He did smile at the promise to go tot he library, but furrowed his brow when he realized Ash hadn’t figured out what was the deal with the ash and ooze. “Look, I’m sure she’s a nice ‘damsel in distress’ you saved her, but even if she doesn’t plan ‘doom’ for the world that doesn’t mean she doesn’t pose a threat to us and every other mundane out there.” He didn’t like it, things they couldn’t identify, what had happened. “After breakfast, I’m going to ask
Charlotte if she has ever heard of the ooze and ash thing.” He didn’t want to, but what other choice was there. He began cooking his eggs in a skillet, showing he was actually quite talented at cooking. Using the whisk like an expert chef.

—

Meanwhile in the Library Kim had finished the Codex. “Wow...” She mumbled, moving to put it right back where they had got it from, carefully returning it. She stood there, deep in thought. It all made sense, but what did that mean about her? Was she a ‘downworlder’ or perhaps one or both of ehe parents had been ‘shadow hunters’ she didn’t know who they were, no her mother died in labor, surely Kim wouldn’t have been left at an orphanage had she had any connections to any group. She slid down and sat on the floor. If only she could have asked her mother one question.... but what would it have been? Who was her father? Yes that was the logical one, but in truth. She would have asked. ‘Do you love me?’ That’s all that mattered. That someone... anyone actually had wanted her, loved her. Yet she was the one responsible for her own mothers death. A murdered from the womb. Maybe that was why she wasn’t surprised, she deserved to be cursed.

((Worth the wait as always (-; love it! ^_^ ))

"She's not a 'damsel in distress," Ash admonished, rolling his eyes, "and I didn't 'save' anybody. I merely bought something 'of high intrigue and value', or something like that, to the institute and prevented an alarmingly hellbent group of demonoids from bringing her to some collector of souls... or bodies. I never clarified which, but, either way, I'm sure it was unpleasant and evil, which makes it my job to stop it and give my team the upper hand."
He paused, looking grim for the shortest of moments before continuing.
"I can't save anyone. That would be a conflict to my interests. Most of the time."
He remembered saving Terry; a situation that had been much more necessary. The kid was a shadowhunter, had it in his blood, which meant that he belonged to the Clave. Not some rugrats on the street.
"And, besides, we're not mundanes; far too advanced for that. Shadowhunter blood breeds true, no matter what it may be comprised of. We'll be alright."
He wasn't so sure about his last remark, but it was worth the effort.
Perhaps they would be.
"Though asking Charlotte couldn't hurt. She'll probably think your talking about me... Making slime or whatever... 'ooze'."
He chuckled at that, knowing it was true. Terry would have to show her for her to understand. Otherwise, she would likely think he was speaking of 'the Ash and ooze thing', which was hardly the case.
It wasn't his fault he had an odd nickname.
Not at all.
Silently, he pulled his bowl of eggs from the microwave and examined them, quirking a brow.
"I suppose you've taught me something," he noted, perfectly serious, and grinned.
Charlotte was going to love the amount of scrambled eggs that would likely fill the house for nearly every meal.
And the dirty dishes in the sink.
Cleaning was a pain.
"Dish duty?" he guessed, gauging his fate before grabbing a sponge and discarding the eggs on a side table.

((^-^))

Terry shook his head. “Well, not to sound too much like Charlotte but ‘you’re incorrigible’ haaa.“ He exhaled Slowly at the end of the statement finishing scrambling as eggs but still smiling showing that he really wasn’t upset. “I got the dishes, you go take breakfast to the ‘not so damsel in distress’, Make sure she isn’t causing any trouble or getting into any books maybe she shouldn’t?” It was funny how quick he changed his story, at least how it appeared to him. After all first she was just someone that he brought there now she was someone who is a benefit to them, was it going to make every excuse in the book for the reason he brought her here? He understood he had to help a mundane in need. Though he supposed she wasn’t one, so I did just if I am bringing her here so she wasn’t exactly normal, but still he had a bad feeling about this girl who somehow left black goo everywhere and ashes. It just scream daemonic to him

Ash scoffed playfully at Terry's remark, clutching at an invisible set of pearls.
"You can't possibly mean that," he admonished dramatically, bringing a hand to his head as if he were going to faint, "surely my evil, pretentious soul can be altered in some way!"
He was grinning like the Cheshire cat, ear to ear, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"You are my angel." he continued, still crooning, before scooping up the bowl of eggs and dashing off to the library, only too happy to escape the task of mandatory damage control.

((this is short and bittersweet, but i's goin' to bed in like two minutes here so...))

Terry sighed shaking his head as Ash scurried off. “Yeah, missed his calling in SoapOpera acting for sure...” He mumbled to himself then slid his pan off the stove and proceeded to eat and clean at the same time. He almost felt sorry for the girl for a moment. Those eggs were bound to be... well, bland without salt, pepper, cheese or even butter. However he considered her lucky to get any food. By his reckoning she should be locked up until hey knew ‘what’ she was. Not my call..

—-

Kim still sitting there, leaning against a shelf. Though a book caught her eyes. Fallen Angels and Nephilim She couldn’t resist, she reached for the book and began to read at a ‘random’ page.

The Nephilim /ˈnɛfɪˌlɪm/ (Hebrew: נְפִילִים, nefilim) were the offspring of the "sons of God" and the "daughters of men" before the Deluge, according to Genesis 6:1-4.

A similar or identical biblical Hebrew term, read as "Nephilim" by some scholars, or as the word "fallen" by others, appears in Ezekiel 32:27.[1][2]

When people began to multiply on the face of the ground, and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that they were fair; and they took wives for themselves of all that they chose. Then the Lord said, "My spirit shall not abide in mortals forever, for they are flesh; their days shall be one hundred twenty years." The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went in to the daughters of humans, who bore children to them. These were the heroes that were of old, warriors of renown.

— Genesis 6:1–4, New Revised Standard Version
The word is loosely translated as giants in some Bibles and left untranslated in others. The "sons of God" have been interpreted as fallen angels in some traditional Jewish explanations.

According to Numbers 13:33, they later inhabited Canaan at the time of the Israelite conquest of Canaan.

The Lord said to Moses, "Send men to spy out the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelites" ... So they went up and spied out the land ... And they told him: "... Yet the people who live in the land are strong, and the towns are fortified and very large; and besides, we saw the descendants of Anak there." ... So they brought to the Israelites an unfavorable report of the land that they had spied out, saying, "The land that we have gone through as spies is a land that devours its inhabitants; and all the people that we saw in it are of great size. There we saw the Nephilim (the Anakites come from the Nephilim); and to ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them."

— Numbers 13:1–2; 21; 27–28; 32–33. New Revised Standard Version.

In the Hebrew Bible

In the Hebrew Bible there are three interconnected passages referencing the nephilim. Two of them come from the Pentateuch and the first occurrence is in Genesis 6:1–4, immediately before the account of Noah's Ark. Genesis 6:4 reads as follows:

The Nephilim were in the earth in those days, and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bore children to them; the same were the mighty men that were of old, the men of renown.[12]

Where the Jewish Publication Society translation[12] simply transliterated the Hebrew nephilim as "Nephilim", the King James Version translated the term as "giants".[13]

The nature of the Nephilim is complicated by the ambiguity of Genesis 6:4, which leaves it unclear whether they are the "sons of God" or their offspring who are the "mighty men of old, men of renown". Richard Hess takes it to mean that the Nephilim are the offspring,[14] as does P.W. Coxon.[15]

The second is Numbers 13:32-33, where ten of the Twelve Spies report that they have seen fearsome giants in Canaan:

And there we saw the Nephilim, the sons of Anak, who come of the Nephilim; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.[12]

Outside the Pentateuch there is one more passage indirectly referencing nephilim and this is Ezekiel 32:17–32. Of special significance is Ezekiel 32:27, which contains a phrase of disputed meaning. With the traditional vowels added to the text in the medieval period, the phrase is read gibborim nophlim ("fallen warriors" or "fallen Gibborim"), although some scholars read the phrase as gibborim nephilim ("Nephilim warriors" or "warriors, Nephilim").[16][17][18] According to Ronald S. Hendel, the phrase should be interpreted as "warriors, the Nephilim" in a reference to Genesis 6:4. The verse as understood by Hendel reads

They lie with the warriors, the Nephilim of old, who descended to Sheol with their weapons of war. They placed their swords beneath their heads and their shields upon their bones, for the terror of the warriors was upon the land of the living.[17]

Brian R. Doak, on the other hand, proposes to read the term as the Hebrew verb "fallen" (nophlim), not a use of the specific term "Nephilim", but still according to Doak a clear reference to the Nephilim tradition as found in Genesis.[19]

Okay that was a little heady for who as already a bot overwhelmed.

((Hope you rested well!))

((I did ^-^ You?))

Ash wandered into the library with the bowl of food and ascended the many flights of stairs that lead toward the top landing, remembering where he had left Kim to read.
Presently, the girl seemed to have picked yet another volume, reading it with a great intensity.
"Ah, quite the spectacle that one," he noted setting the eggs on her original table, though she had made her way over to a shelf, seemingly out of instinct:
Librarian, if Ash had to take a guess.
Or student.
Maybe both.
He tilted his head, further purplexed. This girl was one puzzle after another; not that a bit of questioning and 'icebreaking' wouldn't do the trick, clear some of it up, but Ash was hardly the typical social butterfly. In fact, if he had to describe his social graces, he would begin with the image of a very fine, sharp tipped, thin bladed silver sword, dangling from the ceiling by little else than an icicle:
Pretty to think about, nice to look at, but always drawing a weary eye, ever able to plummet toward the ground at the slightest shake of a warm, airy breath. He had been designed, planned that way, like a mundane's 'test tube baby'. A complete experiment.
"Ever the page turner," he continued, absently leaning against the shelf across from Kim's, lost in thought.

A quick equation:
Nephilim= Mortals drinking the blood of angels (as per the Codex)
Pureblood Shadowhunters= Nephilim x Nephilim, so essentially still mortal x angel
Fairies= Angels x Demons
Demon= Demon with blood being quite a scientific supliment
Angel= Angel with blood being a factor as well
*"scientific supplement/factor"= drink some blood and you can change your entire lineage... gross, yes... very. And illegal...*
So, shadowhunter is infused with demon blood as a young boy by his maniac of a father, he falls in love with a fairy. Now, essentially, you have Nephilim x Demon x Angel. Problem is, you end up with Nephilim which are 50% angel and fairy which are 50, and you combine to make 100. Considering the addition of demonic happenstance, you take a minute amount and combine it to 50%, so go with 55. And that's being generous.
Once completed, then factor in the other 50% of mortal blood from the odd nephilim father figure.
Like a recipe, only far more twisted.
Bake in an oven for a given amount of time, and you should produce a mortal being with the esteemed blood and abilities of a heavenly warrior, constantly at battle with a small darkling inside that would destroy everything in its path only to watch it fall; to amuse itself.
You get ash. Pure, genuine ash, which had burned both in the forges of Heaven and the fires of Hell and somehow come out on the other side with the audacity to remain mortal:
The 'perfect' warrior; superior to Nephilim, just out of league with the angels, spiteful enough to be a demon itself if not taught to sought such monsters out and slaughter them on the spot.
To be honest, demon hunting was a bit like therapy, in a sick, twisted, totally sadistic sort of way...

His thoughts circled slowly back toward the present, shaking his head slightly to clear it, staring at his hands.
Hands that never should have seen the light of day...
Not that it was his fault that the world was oh so curious and couldn't let the balance between what is good and evil remain.
He had never regretted a second of anything he did, not a single movement, and he wasn't about to start pitying his bloodline.
It would be rude. Especially when the Clave already did enough mourning for the both of them, though he wasn't sure if they were uncertain, angry, baffled, upset, or jealous of his 'condition'.
They tethered between all five emotions so often when faced with his treachery, that he had long ago stopped trying to figure it out.
It only gave him a headache.
"I brought eggs," he then announced, shrugging like that wasn't slightly delayed or random, "though I can't promise that they'll be any good. After all, I kill demons, not unborn poultry. I also have no experience in cooking anything... Unless it's leftovers... So be warned. Terry just thought you would be hungry."
He shrugged again, still indifferent, leaning to pick up a book of his own, not even bothering with the title.
Such things were trivial when you had already read through the whole landing; book to book, page to page.
As a kid, he had had a lot of time on his hands, and Charlotte had sent him here, probably to get him out of her hair, but her plans had worked, and, for once, he had actually done something she had told him and began reading and sorting all of the books on the top landing, not yet able to access the lower levels as they yielded quite dangerous things within their bindings; heince the bondages on many of their covers. This landing, however, was harmless.
Other than the lengthy drop to the ground from atop its balcony, which Ash had also found a use for.

Ah, memories, ever so fond.
Where had they all run to now?

((hope this works ^-^))

She honestly didn’t know how to respond, she glanced up as he spoke/entered and the looked back at the book. If he was a sword suspended by fragile ice. Then she was the fridges wind that blew through the room. She didn’t care to be friendly, polite yes, kind yes. Friendly? No. “Actually...” Kim spoke without looking up. “An egg is not an unborn chicken, more accurately its the release of a chickens Menstruation/Ovaries. The egg white is just the amniotic sack. The yolk is the part that becomes a fetus, but is only a baby chick if it is actually fertilized by a roster. Typically this is not allowed, as that would be a bit disturbing. Though that’s almost on par with the method pf making standard hot dogs.” She looked up now though, realizing he was offering her food. “Thank you.” She responded. See polite.

“So you are a ShadowHunter.” She said it as a factual statement, not a question. “However, not a normal ShadowHunter, hence the wings.” She rose from the spot, someone practiced with sitting on the floor and rising to stand with no difficulty. Strong legs helped as a librarian, so sid balance atop tall ladders. “That must be painful.” She walked over to the table, carefully laid the book down, she showed more respect to book than people. Taking a piece of paper and marking where she was reading. Picking up the bowl and presumably a fork? She looked at the eggs stirred them and ate. They were plain, bland, but she had eaten much worse. “Their good.” She answered honestly. Polite and kind. However she looked toward the book again, reading while standing and eating, but not daring to touch the pges.

((Pages* oh yes! Most certainly ^_^ ))

Ash raised a brow, sticking a finger in between the pages of his book and giving the girl an odd look.
"Someone's smart," he commented, grinning, but it was all play, all sarcasm, like always.
"Besides," he continued, thinking randomly of the few raw food names he did know, "I can hardly tell a spinach from an artichoke which, by the way, I've never even seen. Either of them. Being a shadowhunter is like a lifetime of servitude in which nobody ever thanks you back, and everyone on this side of the veil just expects to die young and in an act of battle commonly known as war or, in the case of shadowhunters, work. In short, slavery to the human race. Ironic, isn't it, that we can't even name our own foods? Unless, of course, you head an institute or don't follow on missions for one of two reasons:
Lack of training or deathly illness.
And I'm being very serious."
He felt as if the last statement was obligatory, necessary in some way, just so that people knew when to shake it off and when to take a blow to the heart, so to speak. Apparently, it was a difficult task for most to preform.
Kim earned yet another strange look for her thanks. And for her questions.
"You don't need to thank me, realy, it was mostly Terry's doing," he paused, opening his book once again.
Ash wasn't sure why, but he had always hated the words 'thank you' and 'i'm sorry' when flowing from someone else's mouth, especially when they were directed at his presence.
It was his job to deliver those dreaded lines, not theirs.
"Not 'normal', no," he admitted, giving an airy sort of wave, as if brushing away cobwebs from within the space before him, "but I wouldn't have it any other way. It's not my fault they can't keep up. It's their fault I'm here in the first place, so they're just going to have to deal. I'm here whether they like it or not. Always am. It's sort of my job, being a persistent stalker and all. In the best, most protective way possible, but still... same concept."
He grinned, flipping through pages like a kid sifting through buckets of candy, eating up the words with his eyes, drinking them in, the Mnemosyne on the pack of his neck radiating a pleasant warmth throughout his skin, never dulling or fading like a usual, spent rune. It would never leave a scar behind, the light silver lines that seemed to mar every shadowhunter's skin beneath their freshly inked, coal black runes.
Some runes, the more important, select few, were permanent.
Much like a tattoo, getting one always caused a fuss, and you had to choose very carefully as a normal shadowhunter's flesh and blood could only be influenced by a few of these more powerful, heavenly runes.
Ash, however, had thrown caution to the wind and gotten quite a few, so long as their effects did not counteract, a fact that Charlotte had been all but pleased to hear about. The scowl never left her face for days, but it had been worth it, in the end.
Charlotte knew as much.
Not that she would ever admit it.
"Define 'that', more specifically," he drawled on, eyes not leaving the page until, rather unexpectedly, a compliment flew his way.
Apparently, Ash could scramble baby chickens.
How cute.
Actually, it was a nice visual, when not turned into a flash of gore, but still...
It was by far the saddest thing he had experienced in a long while.
"Thanks?"
Oddly, it came as more of a question than a reply.

(('scrambling baby chickens' makes me visualise Ash tickling a baby chicken... and I just can't anymore... XD Ticklish baby chickens are now the new and improved version of scrambled eggs... you just can't eat them 'cause they're too cute... XD))

“Hiding your wings. That.” Kim clarified pointedly. Having remained quiet through his earlier ramblings, suddenly finding him much more interesting the book she held. A real live Angelic offspring. “You sure do ramble a lot... are you always so insecure about your right to exist?” Like a knife cutting tot he core, she read his words as plainly as she read the book she had now stopped looking at, blue/green eyes sparkling with interest. Some of the words he said, sounded as of they had come from her own mouth. “And not knowing between spinach or artichoke is not important, they are both rather putrid smelling, despite health benefits.” She didn’t care if she sounded like a know it all, most didn’t like her and she quit caring, or at least thats what she told herself.

Whatever she needed to say to survive. She couldn’t have family or friends, so books filled the gap. Yet, she found a ‘human’ that for once seemed, more interesting. This probably explained why she preferred animals. Unlike humans they didn’t ditch or betray you. They just loved or killed. You knew where you stood. Though strangely all animals she had ever met liked her. She waited and listened, but then her neck started to hurt, she rubbed at it with a slight grimace. Not again, where is this neck pain coming from? she hadn’t been in an injury other than last night of course, but this neck pain been coming off anon for past couple of months. Which actually coincide with the strange fevers and dreams of course.

Ash frowned, shrugging.
"Nothing I can't handle," he stated, knowing it to be true. He sought out pain like a toddler craving attention, high on shear agony. Hiding his wings hardly resulted in such a phenomenon, but it could get close.
Very close.
Again, he was taken aback.
"I exist because of some sick version of a science experiment, but don't call it that or the Clave will have a fit, hence the reason I'm rejected at every turn but, sure, I love life. One hundred and one percent."
His sarcasm held more of a bite than he had initially intended, but it was a fight he had had with Charlotte many, many times before; old news.
She always told him he was worth something.
He persisted that death would be his only salvation.
And guess who won?
Not Charlotte.
Because, by the end of the day, Ash could still walk away with his own set of opinions. It didn't help that he had a will of steel either.
"But," he sighed, grinning now, "I must say that I highly agree with you. Food is overrated. I am far more important."
He put extra emphasis on the word "I", like he actually believed it, juxtaposing himself from one sentence to the next, full of contradiction.
One day, he would fool himself into believing it.
Until then, it was 'fake it 'till you make it' or something like that...
If only food were that simple...
He frowned as Kim rubbed at the back of her neck, seemingly agitated, squinting. For a moment, he could swear he saw the remnants of some form of rune, silver and pale colored against her skin.
Despite his curiosity, Ash kept his mouth shut, not wishing to comment.
He was lucky to be as pale as he was, the silver lines blending in with light colored hair, lashes, skin, and eyes, the black, fresh lines standing out like charcoal on an untouched canvas.
Kim, on the other hand, was like most, tan enough for scars to show up, subtle and few in number as they may be.
It was quite shocking.
Terry was going to love this.
"She's not demonic," he thought triumphantly, and left it at that.
He could express his opinions later...

It was a funny thing, she was actually quite pale, however since the attack she had been running a fever. Her complexion noticeably darker than usual she wore a long sleeve down to the rest it’s only her hands showed up and she usually kept them in her pockets or fiddling with something so he might not of noticed just how pale she actually was.

“Wow you’re almost as depressing as I am.“ And that was all she said she moved into the seat in the chair eating Smore the eggs and looking at the book. Now rolling her neck and rubbing it again as it was really starting to hurt. I look a frustration on her face at the pain that was unbidden and certainly not welcome. It had hurt this bad before but she flip the page open to one that talked about the offspring of Angels and Demons it stung, she grimaced. Her hand shot back as if burned. There was a piece of parchment, folded inside the book.

“What the heck?!” She knocked her chair over as she left the book on the table and that paper, it fluttered to the floor. She looked at her hand, and there was no mark, but... it had been... so cold. Like ice. “Are your books boobytrapped?” She grunted at the pain she felt in her neck now, it was going down her back. Making her roll her shoulders trying to make the discomfort stop. It was burning particularly bad between her shoulder blades.

Ash smirked, placing the book in its original place.
"You have no idea," he stated ominously, grinning darkly. It wasn't a side of himself he let out very often; the dismal, black pit that ran right through his core.
He had the potential for far more evil than he cared to admit.
Which seemed highly irrelevant when, apparently, the books became boobytrapped...
"No, they're perfectly harmless," he assured her, moving to asses the damage, protective instincts on edge, "what's this?"
He motioned a hand at the piece of parchment within the pages, quite honestly confused. When had that gotten there?
The whole situation was curious, and curiosity called for caution.
"You okay?" he asked.
It was always best to ask that question fist, move into the fight after, and then ask that question again.
The plans of a battle strategist.

Kim was a strange person, because she found that amusing with and disturbing though she honestly did care and felt bad that anyone would not wish to be alive or what have you however she herself had wished that many times so she couldn’t exactly fold him and given that he saw more of the world than most people based on what she read this book and other matters she couldn’t help being understanding of those facts.

“Yeah... it was like touching dry ice.” Kim explained because the chemical ice burned out the touch but it was because it was so cold. “It was just a blank piece if paper i put in as a book mark...” She was rubbing the back of her neck all the more intensely. The stinging was growing worse, and there was this painful ache. She grimaced and had to close her eyes, as this horrible stabbing pain merged into a skull splitting migraine.

The page it had been marking was one side the explanation of the offspring of angels, demons etc... the opposite was a page full of various angelic and demonic runes. The piece or paper however gave a light glow. A strange symbol appeared to be inside it’s fold. If opened one would see a white feathered wing, along with a black feathered wing. In a circle looking much like the YinYang.

((just finished the eternity of The Book Thief.... I'm crying XD))

The book was lifted from the table by long, calloused fingers, musician's hands, and turned every which way; studied by depthless silver eyes. The parchment was plucked from its binding, turned about, unfolded, examined farther.
"What's this?"
A mental question stated aloud in hopes of an easy answer, though it was unlikely to be found.
Ash put book and paper back together, staring at them for another moment before snapping the bindings shut and pocketing the item within the confines of his gear jacket, slightly apprehensive of the action, waiting for it to catch fire or freeze over.
That would be quite an interesting turn of events...
"So.." he continued, looking warily toward Kim, assessing the situation, turning over the battlefield, "I think it's time to find Charlotte."
The inevitable loomed up like an expansive dark wave, threatening to wash him away, hovering before him with cold, rippling, greedy fingers.
"And we're going to need..."
He didn't have the strength to continue.
Silence clouded the room while he thought the situation through and shook his head, justling curls, pushing them back with unknowing hands.
Ash didn't want the Clave involved, their chains around his wrists, weighing down his options, controlling every move.
"We're going to need Terry," he finished, replacing his original track of thought, remembering the kid's promise to find Charlotte.
That wasn't going to happen. Not yet.
Without another word, he made his way down the steps, two at a time, grateful for the delay that ensued; further time to think.
Again, hands passed through hair, absentmindedly, and then returned to pockets, one colliding with a now harmless book.
Slight, smoothly muscled shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh as thick-soled, cleated boots met the tile of the library's first floor, and eyes turned for only one brief moment to see if the girl would follow.
It was eating up a lot of time, walking, but Ash wasn't one to panic in the face of uncertainty or possible danger, to back away from a fight. He simply went calm, the deadly sort, like the eye of a hurricane, the center of a tornado, and tried to get everything under control; back where it belonged.
Another deep breath, and thoughts absently fluttered to the ground, literally, thankful for the limited usage of wood in the construction.
Charlotte would have killed him for the grooves left behind by his shoes, which he never seemed to take off.
Always ready for takeoff.
Thus, he slipped from the library, barely disturbing its great doors as he passed through them, eyes scanning the available space.
No Terry.
Immediately, he turned toward the pathway to the kitchen and set off, not sure what he would find.
Hopefully, it wouldn't be a clean, empty room...

Kim didn’t follow, she couldn’t even hear him very well. This migraine was quickly becoming the worst ever! She found herself collapsing into a chair. From A distance probably look like she was just exhausted and resting. But looking closer you could see that her eyes were squinting tightly shut her hands now clinching in the first and by the time he was gone she was doubling over at the pain. What is this?! most people might of been screaming or crying out with the amount of pain she was feeling now, but she really wasn’t the type to scream. She had screamed before in shock but it didn’t come out like a typical girl scream more of a shout. Instead tears begin to come accompanied by groans and soon whimpers.

Ash would indeed find that the kitchen was clean and empty. However this was a necessarily a bad thing because Terry had already gone to fetch Charlotte. He had located her and was waiting for her to open the door to the room she was in. He spoke hurriedly through the door talking about very important matters that that they needed to discuss and that she needed to take a look at the infirmary of where the girl has been laying. That something strange happened.

((I never read that only heard about it. *Hugs*))

((It is very good, but the ending is like, ultra-super sad... XD))

Ash sighed as he entered the gleaming kitchen, agitated.
Quickly, he turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room and down one of the many corridors, counting his steps as he ran, finding a small set of stairs and leaping lightly over them all together.
No time.
At the sixth door down to the right, there stood Terry, assumably about to knock or say something, and Ash just stopped. He couldn't persuade Terry not to tell Charlotte, and he couldn't exactly force him not to knock again either... what use would running all the way over there be?
Instead, he whistled, once, a clear, sharp note designed to grab the other boy's attention.
Hopefully, Charlotte wasn't already on her way to the door...

***

Charlotte woke from sleep, the persistent knocking at her door enough to roll her out of bed in an instant, still in her fuzzy pajamas.
Slowly, she padded over to the door and peered through the crack between the frame and the solid, swinging object, clarifying that the voice on the other end was, in fact, Terry's.
But there had been an undercurrent as well, she could have sworn, a small whistle, a pure note of music in a silent, dead corridor.
It made her think of Ash, never to be seen separated from Terry while he was home, and wondered what the kids were up to now.
Had they even slept?
The thought was slightly alarming.
She usually stuck around to be certain, but it seemed to only agitate them, and sometimes she simply forgot.
Feeling bad, she pulled open the door and peered out into the corridor, taking in the image of Terry before looking both ways for his doppelganger, who appeared to be nowhere in sight.
She raised a brow in apprehension.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, alarmed, fearing for a second that something just might be, "what's going on?"

((Aww, it makes it so hard when there’s these books that you love but then they have these such sad scenes! I was actually remembering a particular scene for a book that made me cry the other day and I was like oh man I wanna read the book again LOL why do I torture myself so? XD))

Terry flinched at the high-pitched whistle. His eyes darting instantly in the direction it had come from so that he wasn’t looking at the door any longer when Charlotte opened it and he turned back to her and stood there a bit stupefied. “Um...” he wasn’t the type to just knock for no reason in fact any time had ever come to her there had been a distinct purpose mostly because he was a little bit intimidated by Charlotte. She carried a sense of authority about her and so he didn’t approach her unless he was certain he wanted to speak and he knew what he wanted to speak and now for the first time she had probably ever seen him approaching her he looked incredibly uncertain and shifted awkwardly glancing from the corner of his eye back down the hall. As mine quickly searching for what to say or do he didn’t understand why I should signal him but he obviously was trying to stop him otherwise he would’ve just called out. “Breakfast?” He responded voice laced with uncertainty. Though in his hand he had two vials one of the black tutus and the other of the ebony ashes. Darker than normal. He slowly tried to cut them into the palm of his hand so she didn’t notice them.

—Library—

Kimberly began to pant and sweat. Am, Am I dying? Her body giving violent shudders. It was strange that it wasn’t death that she was fearing right now but not understanding what was going on. Much as Ash had Express she had many times where she hadn’t even been born. The big part of that had been the fact that she was responsible for her mother’s death. Many time she wished it had been the other way around so she didn’t have to have that guilt on her for her first in a huge line of mistakes. She was doubled over the table wincing and groaning. I am dying aren’t I? she felt like her insides are being torn apart, she could hardly keep her breath her temperature was skyrocketing.

((I know, right?! Like, I LOVE All the Bright Places, but it makes me bawl every time I read it... XD I especially don't like when they kill my favorite characters... XD Which book made you sad the other day?))

Charlotte looked at Terry for a long moment before grinning and shaking her head. He had always been such a sweet, obedient kid, even if he had only made it to the institute a short while ago.
Taking note of the objects within his hand, however, she gave him a sideways look. Maybe she hadn't imagined the whistle...
"What did he convince you to do now?" she pondered aloud, smiling fondly and shaking her head.
Leaving it at that, she stepped out of the room and went to get some breakfast and looked back only once to add one very important instruction:
"Don't you dare get into trouble; especially on your brother's account."
Inwardly, her heart cringed, shying away and wanting to take the words back. What if Terry wouldn't accept them? What if he pushed them away? It wasn't like Charlotte expected the poor boy to be cruel, but Ash had proved his point time and time again:
Some people just didn't want to be loved.
But, either way, there was no taking back what had already been cast out and she walked toward the kitchen, hoping there wouldn't be a growing monster of rejection behind her back.
She didn't dare to check.

***

Ash watched Terry fumble, watched Charlotte buy every bit of it. Well, not every bit, but she was far too caring, too kind when it came to the ones she loved.
Love meant nothing but hurt and destruction. It was a weakness.
He repeated the line over and over in his head when he saw he walk away, a most pitiful expression painted upon her lovely features.
Ash had made her cry, scream, and even swear, watched every face that came with her emotions, felt his cold exterior being worn away by her tears.
But Charlotte would never know, could never know, for Ash would not allow it.
Slowly, he exited the shadows and motioned for Terry to follow him before disappearing into the darkness, a whitchlight within his hand, the light bobbing along down the corridor as he moved toward the library.

Terry inwardly tensed, not sure how to take what she just said. At the word brother, even though Ash, was more brother than anyone he had ever known. He couldn’t help thinking of a bad meaning to that word and someways. An image of the brothers who used to bully and miss treat him. His expression impassive, but it faltered once her back was turned. He really didn’t have the best of poker face is his heart clenching tightly with in his chest but then he saw the familiar form that belonged to the whistle and hurried after him. Noticing they were going in the direction of the library and wondering why he had been stopped from doing what they had agreed he was going to do anyway?

—-Library—

Kim had collapsed onto the floor, the chair falling with her. Ice, cut at her insides and fire coursed through her veins. How she wanted to desperately pass out to have the pain stop, but it was not to be. She couldn’t escape it and her mind was seeing strange things that in her fevered state could not comprehend and then replaying memories seemingly random but intense.

She ended up crawling into a fetal position still not one scream but she was gasping and whimpering hissing at the pain her body trembling violently. Her back, I felt like it was going to break in two! And then it happened... and what a surprise would await them when they would walk up the stairs and see something hanging over the edge a large feathered wing. Strangely checkered black-and-white each feather seeming to take turns with the color black white pattern. The one wing was open and partially hanging off while the other was on top of her covering all but her hair on the top of her head. At last the fever seem to start receding her complexion beginning to turn to normal and consciousness beginning to fade.

((I honestly can’t remember. Part of me thinks it was a Ted Decker book, but then another part tells me it’s one of the harry potter ones, but then my mind goes to chronicles of Narnia specifically the very last book. But I feel like none of those are right and there’s another one LOL very frustrating if I think of it I’ll let you know XD))

((XD Thanks! I get the same problem too... there are just so many good ones out there... ^-^))

Ash didn't need to look back to see if Terry had followed. The results had been predicted from the start.
So why, then, did he have a strong sinking feeling spreading throughout his body as he drew closer to the one spot in the building that he truly loved?
Pocketing his light, watching its glow snap out of existence, he opened the door to the library and simply stood there, taking a breath and peering around, hoping nothing bad had transpired.
First floor cleared, he moved to the next and the next until, finally, he had reached the top floor, dubious of his surroundings.
Something was sending electric waves across his skin, making the hairs on his arms and neck stand on edge even though the room was far from cold.
Slowly, he crossed the floor to where he had left Kim, almost expecting another puddle of 'the ash and ooze thing', and froze.
This was not what he had expected: a pair of salt and pepper wings, glimmering in the light, an (nearly?) unconscious girl lying across the tiled floor.
Every muscle screamed 'no' as he edged forward, every nerve telling him to flee. He wasn't sure why the sight sent his brain wheeling, but it did.
Because she was different.
"Why is different such a bad thing?" he thought again, the echo of a past thought, one that had come to him only hours ago, "why do we fear what we do not understand?"
Walking on razors, wires, and powerlines, he eventually made his way over, crouching next to her still form, brows knitted together.
Hesitation was not an act he found comfort in on common ground.
Not at all.
But this... This was different.
"Terry..."
The voice was small, broken, too quiet. Almost like in a horror film with one of those poor children that are assuredly about to die and whisper for their friends in the shadows, hoping that the monster there will have a familiar face.
"W-"
He stopped shaking his head in disbelief, running a shaking hand through his hair. He almost wanted to touch her, see if she was okay, but he could only see the dark and the child and the monster within.
"What do we do?"
He was at a crossroads with nowhere to go, no one to turn to.
He supposed that this is what Lucifer felt after falling from Heaven, casting eyes upon the horror that was Earth and Hell.
Ash doubted there was a barrier between the two.
And, vaguely, he couldn't find the energy to care, for all of it seemed to be seeping out in a slow, nervous sweat, a thin sheen of perspiration even though he couldn't stop shivering.
"You're not alone. They were wrong. You were wrong." the thought kept running through his brain, and he didn't have the good sence to make it stop. Ash could handle war, death, torture, and far, far worse, but this... this was like having the ground suddenly torn out from under your feet.
He could feel himself slipping into a mild state of shock, so he closed his eyes, rocked back onto his heels, and sat on the ground, head in his hands.
Sinking, sinking, sinking...
And then there was pain.
Sharp, burning, pulsing pain from between his shoulder blades all the way down to his lower back, a slowly burning V that followed the trail of a most impressive scar. One of those that never had the chance to heal.
Wings.
Stubbornly, he held them back, fed the fire into an all-consuming inferno, reveling in its blaze.
Carefully, he reached forward again and pulled himself onto his feet, assessing the damage, remembering the first time he had let his own wings come free.
"Iratzes and infirmary?" he guessed more confidently and scooped the girl up without waiting for a reply, carefully avoiding contact with her wings. The cursed things were far more fragile than they looked, Ash knew, and they were easy to break, a pain to heal.
Carefully, he made his way back toward the infirmary, the second time in a day, and deposited her on yet another bed, retrieving his stele to etch a couple of healing runes.
With a sigh, he went back to the library and plunked down in a chair, shaking his head, and then beckoned Terry over, ready to share... whatever it was that he had obtained.
Evidence? Clues?
Ash didn't know.
It had certainly been a long day.
"Something's not right," he began, and boy was that the understatement of the year.
He couldn't help but expect an 'I told you so'.

((best i got for now at 2 am XD))

Terry stiffened, staring wide eyed. Paralyzed at the sight. This, was unlike anything, even unlike Ash. He just stood there, dumbly. Too afraid to approach, yet not afraid enough to run.

Kim was moving in and out of consciousness, but eventually she did succumb to it. Not even aware she had been picked up, or that in truest irony she was back in the room she had earlier ‘escaped’ from. She just laid there. The pain, and fever beginning to at last recede. Like the tide, but was this the drawing back before a tidal wave, or just the natural return to its proper state?

Terry hadn’t budged from the spot, but he looked at Ash. At last showing something when he spoke. “Why are her wings colored like that?” He found himself asking the one question that probably bothered him the most.

((It’s fantastic! As always! ^_^ love it SO much <3 ))

Ash blinked.
He hadn't expected Terry to question the color of the girl's wings...
He had expected some sort of mockery, some kind of 'what did i tell you?', but, then again, that did seem to be Charlotte's job.
Either way, he still couldn't come to fathom an answer.
Not this time.
"Don't know," he admitted, brows knitting together in concentration, "but it can't hurt to find out. When we go on our expedition tomorrow, we'll hunt down some answers. My guess is that she has a minutely tinted stream of angelic magma running through her veins, waging war with the dark and demonic; to put it dramatically. Research will only help... Do you have to clean at the library?"
The last was more of a thought that had slipped into words, but Ash had to wonder.

He did hate cleaning...