(~Been on a forced hiatus for a year-and-a-half, there have been many stories to come and go in my brain. Stories of different lives, different times...but two things were true--and yet missing.

This thread will be the series of what happened to Johnathan and how it all happened. These are all backlogs. They will have dates on when it should have been originally posted and what the dates are in timeline of it all.

For those who have seen the feature film (500) Days of Summer will understand the switching back and forth. For those who have not see it, DOOO EEEETT. Anywho! It's kinda like Quantum Leap--leaping from a point in time to a point in time...only difference is it'll be out of her length of time in life.

P.S. You will see special appearance by characters AND events that are both fictional and reality.~)

(~P.P.S. ALL opinions of violence, sexual content, alcohol content, religious beliefs ARE NOT the opinions/beliefs of the writer--me. All is for story-purposes. Thanks! ^_^v ~)

(500) Years of Johnathan - 99 Schwarz Balloon ~ Part One
Original Posting Date: 10/10/2008
(~Failed to mention in previous post, 99 Schwarz Balloon will contain Alcohol, Drug, and Sexual content.~)

Morning of November 9th, 1989 ~ Berlin, Germany

Johnathan opened her compact case with the big golden coloured "CG" engraved on the hard plastic case. She checked her eye makeup with the top portion of the compact which had a mirror on it. Smudgy bright purple and silver surrounding the brown eyes. She used the side of her left index finger to fade and-or remove some of the smudges until it looked just about right. Moving the mirror about to check the rest of her face, then up towards her hair; which she teased a bit higher with her fingers.

Snapping the compact close, the hard-plastic-on-hard-plastic noise that has been popular within this decade, she stuffed it back into her bag before taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. Screwing the cap back on and placing it in her bag as well, she finally got up and dusted off the bleached-out tight jeans and placed on the jet-black faux-leather boots. Her maroon over-sized shirt was tucked in loosely and protected the pale-green tank-top that laid underneath it. She slowly looked up to Milly and twitched her nose.

"C. O. T. D?"

"Took them from upstairs. Luckily, bunker guy number 2 and chick from floor number 4 were too busy to realise I took them. You're taking bunker guy's. It'll look good on you."

Mill-Ann, Milly for short, was just your run-of-the-mill high-class-but-never-acted-like-one girls. Milly and Johnatha had been friends since Middle-Grade-School. Milly was too "wild" for private and her parents were too disappointed and embarrassed to admit she would go to public. So, her parents thought "private tutors" would be better. It was...until Milly's Spanish tutor was teaching her French...kissing, that is. So, Milly's parents gave up and traveled constantly; leaving the maids to tend and take care of Milly.

Having not much of choice--or permission from parents--Milly was forced to go to public school. Now, barely passing the age of 18 mark, Milly knew what she could and could not do. Milly could do anything she wanted and she could not follow her parents' rules if they don't know where she is. Five foot and six inches, a little bit more meat than Johnatha...thanks to the constant time in bunks, beds, floor, tables, closet, bathroom, ya get the picture.

Short blond hair that has faded blue, black and purple streaks thanks to some other crazy fans at the Pixies concert over in New York a month ago, brightest blue eyes and near ghostly-white skin. Wearing a creme tank-top underneath a bright pink sweater, she placed on the thick faux-wool coat that went to her waist. Nudging Johnatha to get a move on, Milly grabbed her bag on the unoccupied bunker next to where Johnatha was sleeping and waited at the entry-way for her.

Blinking herself out from a daze, Johnatha took the thick-but-slick biker leather-brown jacket and start placing it on before putting her back over her shoulder and wore it like a sling.

Johnatha, or JoJo she likes to be called, was just your average New Yorker. Born and raised in Lower Manhattan her whole life, loving mother and father. Annoying, but also loving older sister. Not much to go on. Went to school, did that time in required education. It wasn't until she was a Junior in High School that she begged her parents for her to travel abroad and go to a university in England. It was with the acceptance of a education-abroad grant that paid her way to England. And with Milly can go anywhere with her parents' money, she knew Milly would follow.

Moving the slightly ratted, but still in crimped dark-brown hair out from under the jacket, JoJo moved over towards the entry-way and nodded her head outward so Milly can move out and down the stairs to the Common Room at the bottom floor.

Once JoJo and Milly got down to the bottom floor, they headed out of the Hostel. They already paid the very small fee, so it didn't matter to them what anyone said.

The Hostel was only a mile away from this great event that will happen in less than 11 hours. The sun was up...well, it should be up; but grey clouds cover the skies, giving Berlin the temperature of 1 Degree Celsius.

Without saying a word, Milly headed out across the street to the liquor store. JoJo stayed put as she zipped up the leather jacket and placed her hands in the pockets of the coat. She looked around for a bit, both on the street and on the sidewalk. Cars slowly passing back and forth. A couple of folks jogging, some homeless and some who are just meandering about like she will do soon.

"...Sie nur m?chten, k?nnen sie haben mich reiten sie!"

Milly comes out, placing a bottle in her bag and opening up the box of West cigarettes she just purchased. Digging in her purse, she pulled out a lighter and took one of the cigarettes from the box. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she placed the lighter close to the tip and covered it with her other hand. It only took two tries for the lighter to ignite successfully. Puffing in a bit, the cigarette lit easily and yet also burned slowly.

Looking to the left and to the right of the street, making sure there were no cars nearby, she crossed the street back to where JoJo was standing. With that, they started walking North-East.

"If only Miss Mallard was here to listen to you. What would she say?"

"Zu den wichtigsten's B?ro!"

They both laughed at that.

That mile walk may be a mile, but this will be the last mile before they finally watch something most epic and will go down--literally--in history.

-------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
I try my best to be historically accurate as possible. West was one of the best German Cigarette Brand from 1980's until late 1990's. Yes, that is Cover Girl cosmetics. And Pixies did tour in 1989. Also, actual German sentences!

(500) Years of Johnathan - Piccoli Occhi Stellati ~ Part One
Original Posting Date: 10/18/2008

Morning of July, 1506 - Mantua, Italy

The sun is barely stretching out His arms on the horizons of small hills and a grazing farm that came before drab mansion. It was drab on the outside, but the inside completely contradicted that look.

Three servants were running about on the ground floor to make sure all the statues, portraits, trophies, awards, antiques and anything you could possibly imagine was not only well-kept but not a centimeter of dust was seen. In the kitchen, there were already two-thirds of the way done for the breakfast and plucking the three turkeys and peeling potatoes for this evening's feast to honor Master Da Vinci's arrival and stay.

The first floor was just the basic of any mansion. Big entryway with two staircases leading to the second and third floors, beyond the entryway was a hallway that lead to different areas of the first floor. There was the living room where the Lord and Lady of the House along with guests would enjoy a casual drink or tea and just converse leisurely. The walls of this room have a portraits of previous Lords of the House and their families. Directly above the red-bricked fireplace was the current portrait of the Lord and Lady of the House, their six-year old son standing in front of the Lord, and a small baby--barely a year old--sitting upright on a pedestal. All four of them had a stoic look upon their faces and all could tell that they have some Italian heritage. There were a few books lying about on the oak end-tables and candelabras everywhere with fresh candles perching on them.

Another doorway lead to dining room where it would be either just the Heads of the House and guests--fitting no more than ten comfortably. The table and chairs were of dark-oak wood and recently polished. The walls were lined with tapestries of stories of The Biblical Days. The table was already prepared for the morning meal for the Lord and Lady of the House.

There was another door, but it mostly blended along with the wall, which lead to the kitchen. The kitchen was where there were at least ten servants were there for about twenty hours out of a day. Every now and again, the scent of whatever is being baked, roasted, boiled or just cooked leaves a lingering scent in the hallway and the two dining rooms.

Speaking of two dining rooms, the second dining room was more like a dining hall. Could hold large number of guests for bigger feasts and celebrations. The floor was a light-tan marble while the table and seventy-two chairs made of cherry-red oak that has been recently polished. The tapestries in the dining hall were similar with the ones in the dining room, but these tapestries are lined with gold.

Now, there are three ways to get to the gardens in the backyard. One way is specifically for the servants for it directly leads to their quarters and the kitchen. Another way is through the dining hall and one last way through the glass double doors that are directly under staircase. The gardens goes on for was seem acres, but it is only an acre and a half. The most colourful flowers both from nearly every corner of the world. Shrubberies were no taller than five feet high, there was also a shrubbery maze that--if seen in the second or third floor balconies--turned out to be a very intricate design that should be a crest of some sort.

The second floor is more elaborate and more for socialising than anything else. In the East wing, were a few rooms.

Two were social rooms, though one looked more on a political matter; with maps and charters of Mantua on a detailed scale and then Italy also in a detailed scale. Two desks resided there for business matters as well. Hanging above the fireplace was a portrait of the Lord of the House in his complete military material with the family's crest resting above the portrait. Other than those two, the room was mainly of maps and charters. Some organised paperwork here and there. The other room was similar to the living room on the bottom floor; but more room and tapestries instead of family portraits.

Another room in the East wing was the Library. Books from around the world, mostly in French and Latin, though.

Now, for the West Wing, the whole wing was one large social hall. Perfect large celebrations, balls and galas. The ceiling was decorated with chandeliers with the brightest crystals and a mural of cherubs on pale-white clouds. The floor was polished light-grey marble while the walls were lined with the brightest of blue tapestries.

The third floor, finally, were all the living quarters--sans the servants'. The East Wing were five guest rooms, each with their own silver washing bowl, a small shelf with a random selection of books from the library and a bed that could easily fit five large-sized dogs comfortably. The guest rooms were with a deep-red and royal blue tone with white trimmings. The wooden floor was lined with carpets that should have been installed as the floor instead.

The West Wing of the third floor were also five rooms. One room was specifically a playroom with also a child-sized desk and an adult-sized desk. There was also a table lined with linen with linen cloths right beside it; possibly a changing area for a baby. Right next door to the playroom was the resting room for both the child and baby. A small cot and two rocking chairs were near the corner of the children's room--must be for the midwife.

Across the way from the children's rooms was a washing room. Three large silver washing bowls basically made a triangle within the room and in the center of the three was a white porcelain tub with golden feet. Two body-length mirrors rest upon the walls, one on each opposite side. The window was arched and partially stained-glass.

Connected to the Washing Room was the Wardrobe room, the walls were lined with wardrobes and three mirrors. Nothing much here except for the wardrobes--which would only mean one thing. The last room in the house, the largest resting quarters was the Master's Chamber which was connected to the Wardrobe room as well. The room was decorated in the brightest of gold, red and blue. The bed was large enough to have twenty large-sized dogs rest comfortably with silk and cotton imported from the neighbouring Middle-Eastern lands. The fireplace was also the biggest out of the rest in the mansion.

Helena was one of the servants that was awake an hour before the sunrise--but the sun was starting to rise. She was in fact one of the two hand-maidens that was in the Lord and Lady's wardrobe room. Preparing her outfit for the day. The day that Master Leonardo Da Vinci would arrive to keep the Lady of the House company since the Lord is away for political matters. Looking over to Anne, she chuckled quietly as Anne was going into the washing room and cleaning out the mess of the tub from the evening before. Anne also had to make sure that the licorice stick's frill at the bottom was fresh for the brushing of the teeth.

"And she had this look in her eyes that seemed as if one of her childhood lovers was coming back into her life. All doe-eyed and she wanted to bat them like this..."

Helena's dark brown eyes looked up and to the side a bit as her hands clasped together and rested her thumbs above her left breast, representing the heart. Her dark brown hair fell back a bit as she tilted her head upward and bat her eyes rapidly while doing her best to look all star-struck. Hearing Anne snort loudly and then cupped her mouth with her hand to cover up the outburst and the giggle-fit that was coming right after it. Helena released her hands and straightened out the pale-green over-skirt and the tan bodice that fit her perfectly. Anne also straightened herself up after the giggle-fit was done and out with. Her pale-blue over-skirt was a bit too short, so the body-length linen-chemise was showing a couple of inches at the bottom. Her matching tan-bodice also fitted her well. Dirt blonde hair was a bit ratted, but she quickly fixed that up by pulling it back into a leather strip.

"Ya done?"

Anne nodded at that. They both sighed, as if not wanting to wake the monster this early in the morning. But the lady said no matter what, she wanted to be up at sunrise. Helena turned about and walked over to the connection-door between the Wardrobe room and the Masters' Resting quarters.

Slowly opening the door, she gestured Anne to open the window curtains. Anne nodded and walked over slowly to do so. Helena looked over to the big bed and just watched it for a moment. She sees different lumps on the bed, but she needed to know which one actually breathed. Finally seeing a motion in the right-center of the bed; she walked over that side with swift feet.

Anne opened one set of curtains out of three. She wanted to open the set where the Lady would see first out of last. Helena reached over on the bed and tapped what she thought it would be the Lady's arm.

"M'Lady."

No movement.

"Lady Isabella."

There was some rustling before a near muffled and very groggy-sounding voice came out of it.

"I am docking your wages for coming in here this early."

Both Helena and Anne knew that was not true. The Lady usually says that to her who wakes her up prior to midday. Not only that, but she will forgot once she has had tea and breakfast. Seeing the Lady move more, Anne finally pulled the curtains open of the last one. Anne then went over to the wardrobe room quickly and came back with the Lady's robe and morning slippers.

Lady Isabella stretched out her arms and brushed her light brown-hair away from her oval face. Moving the covers only half-way off her body, the silk white sleeping gown uncrinkled itself. The hazel-but-more-like-brown eyes sleepily opened and then rubbed her face a bit before creeping out of the bed. Sitting herself upright on the edge of the bed, her feet never once touched the floor; for her feet were greeted by Anne as she was kneeling and placing the morning slippers on them. Watching Anne stand up quickly, she gave both of them a small smile.

Standing up and sticking her arms out but bent a bit, Anne took no hesitation to place on the light-red robe for her. Anne straightened it out on her as Helena tied it with the match silk rope over her waist. Isabella stood five foot two inches, shorter than the two ladies currently standing there beside her, but she did not care.

"Breakfast."

"It will be ready and served once you are seated. Orange tea will complement this morning's eating."

"Good. Also, I am thinking goose will go along with the turkey for this evening. Give our guest some variety of our freshest vegetables. And fruits throughout the day."

Both Anne and Helena nodded at that, but it was Anne who curtsied and started walking backwards towards the door, guessing to inform the kitchens the additions to the menu. Helena stayed behind and made sure everything was alright for Lady Isabella.

"Lead me out."

Helena curtsied and walked over to the double doors that led out into the main hall. Holding one of the doors for Lady Isabella, she curtsied again as she passed her by. As soon as she left, Helena immediately went to work on bed. She straightened out the bottom sheet of cotton and then the bottom sheet of silk. She then tucked in the cotton and the bottom silk sheet all the way around. It took her about thirty minutes to complete the bed and to refluff the down comforter and the five pillows. Helena placed the curtains half-open. Closing the main double-doors and then entering into the wardrobe room, then into the washing room.

Helena made sure that the hair brush was ready along with the licorice stick for the teeth. It was not even five minutes when Lady Isabella and Anne came back upstairs.

"...Oh and make sure that there are fresh grapes in Master Da Vinci's room. Specifically the green ones. He couldn't stop eating them when we met at my Father's Holiday Festivities last year. One more thing, Anne. I am assigning you to Master Da Vinci's driver. He is his right-hand man and I want everyone to treat him as equal to Master Da Vinci."

Anne nodded as she gestured Lady Isabella towards the cleaning bowl with a mirror in front of it. Helena handed over the licorice stick and with that, Lady Isabella used the frill-side to scrub her teeth. Moving it back and forth, making sure her teeth were as clean as possible. While doing so, both Helena and Anne were working on her hair. Brushing it out evenly and the pinning parts with fine oak pins of it to make it seem curled upright. By the time Lady Isabella spat out the extra saliva into the cleaning bowl and held out the licorice stick. Anne took it from her as Helena finished up Lady Isabella's hair with parting her bangs. Lady Isabella looked up at the mirror and checked to make sure there was nothing in her teeth and her hair was in its proper place. She nodded with approval, turned about and started walking towards the wardrobe room. Helena rushed ahead of her to the wardrobe room.

As Lady Isabella was passing Helena, she stopped and eyed her carefully.

"And you will be with Master Da Vinci. And make sure he never feels nor sees the bottom of the bowl of grapes."

Helena nodded before Lady Isabella walked over to the center of the wardrobe room. A simple light-red corset along with a white undergarment, beige chemise, bright red bodice, bright red underskirt, dark blue overskirt and black leathered boots were all set out and ready for wearing. Helena moved the three body mirrors closer to the center of the room; in particularly around Lady Isabella as she waited patiently to be dressed.

Afternoon of July, 1506 - Mantua, Italy

The slightly-aged, but lean man signaled the two horses to go from a slow trot to a normal pace trot, he wanted to look back to make sure the man inside the carriage that he was sitting on top of was still asleep; but unfortunately he could not tell.

Luckily, the man in the carriage did not mind the rides. It gave him time to sleep. He was more of a night owl than an early bird. He was the one who caught the night-crawlers instead of worms. He preferred it that way. However, this carriage ride was a bit more bumpier than what he liked. No matter, he saw the drab and dull-looking mansion coming up. Stretching out a bit, he scratched his chin underneath the scraggly white beard. He did not care what he looked like, which right now looked like an estranged relative with no manners in his white-hair appearance. He did, however, keep with what he saw the stereo-typical Italian artist clothing, a black gown with a white-cotton undershirt with the collar sticking out near the neck. He also thought it was comfortable.

When the dirt and bumpy road became gravel, he knew then it was time. He has not seen Lady Isabella since the Duke of Ferrara's Holiday Festivities over seven months ago. It was then he proposed to her to do a portrait of her. He was planning to still do so, but maybe--just maybe--Lady Isabella will be the muse that he has been missing. For there was another portrait in the works.

Passing by the farming area, aged brown-and-golden eyes looked out the window to see the farmers working; but only for a brief moment, once the carriage passed by, he looked back and saw them drop their tools and start running towards the mansion. In fact, he started seeing the gardeners and the servants tending to the penned animals start running. There was some distance between the farming area and the mansion. He chuckled at that. Going across to the other seating side inside the carriage and slid the little message door which was below the driver's bum and inbetween his legs; which he tapped his right foot.

"If you could, Antonio, take us 'round the mansion once. Let the workers catch up and at least have a breather before I get out. Also, I do not want them to be in trouble."

"Will do, Signore Da Vinci."

Knowing that no noble would come out and wait in the dirt, he knew exactly what he was doing.

It took an additional five minutes to get around the mansion. Once the carriage stopped, he saw the farmers, animal tenders, and gardeners in line and waiting to do the uniformed greeting. Antonio dropped down from the driver's seat and opened the door to the carriage and placed down the small steps for him. Giving a big sigh, he saw the two large decorated-oak doors open, but noone was seen coming out. So, he decided to step out first.

"Presenting Signore Master Leonardo Da Vinci."

"Presenting Lady Isabella d'Este, Marchesa of Mantua."

Lady Isabella came out right then and there. The high-golden collar behind her head complemented the red and blue ensemble she was wearing. Smiling brightly, she walked briskly; but it was as if she was on air. Opening her arms widely, she gestured to Da Vinci.

"Master Da Vinci. It seems it has been forever."

Da Vinci chuckled and also smiled.

"Marchesa. Your face is still just as youthful as it was before."

Right before the two came close enough to touch one another, the servants and the workers all bowed and curtsied simultaneously. When Lady Isabella and Da Vinci met in the middle, he first kissed the top of her left hand before kissing her right cheek, then left. She glanced over to her to the majority of her servants and gave them a slight smile. Harsh she was with them, she treated them all as part of their extended family...her commoner family, but family all in all. Looking back to Da Vinci and smiled brightly.

"You and your driver must be so tired."

"I am an old man, Lady Marchesa. No matter what time of day or night, I am always tired. But food is a swell way to stay awake."

"Well you and your Driver--"

"--Antonio."

"My apologies. You and Antonio may each have your own rooms and washing rooms as well. I have also assigned my two most obedient and quickest servants to attend to all of your needs."

She took ahold of Da Vinci's arm to assist him in, having Antonio in tow. She didn't have to give a sign or anything, two of the male servants went over to the carriage to grab the three luggage pieces--one was newer than the other two--along with the two leather circular tubes and three long parcels.

Once inside, Da Vinci was in awe. He was rather impressed for the fact that someone would make the exterior of their mansion look so dull and boring and have it completely contradictory interiorly. He honestly was not paying much attention to Lady Isabella's inane ramblings; but he nodded every know and again to make her convince he was listening. He then saw the two men passing by with his and Antonio's belongings. He looked back to Antonio, interrupting in whatever Lady Isabella was saying. One of the perks that Da Vinci liked about being old--he can interrupt and not make it seem rude.

"Antonio, my good man. Please make sure that everything is in its proper place and you may retire if you wish."

Lady Isabella piped in at that.

"The dinner feast will start promptly at Sun Down. Please feel free to roam or rest until then."

Antonio nodded and followed the two men up the stairs. Da Vinci looked back and smiled softly.

"Where are the two youngens?"

"They are both visiting their grandparents for the Summer. They will be returning and Federico will start his tutoring."

"Always better to start them early. And what of Lord Marquess?"

"Unfortunately, he had business to attend to in Venice. He will not return for another ten days."

"Oh that is rather fortunate for me, then. More of you for me."

He laughed heartily as Lady Isabella blushed deeply at that.

"Charming man. Now, I insist that you rest until dinner. Helena will always be right outside your door for anything."

"Actually a small bowl of delicious grapes would be lovely."

"I am certain it shall be there by the time you are in your room."

After nearly an additional ten minutes of saying their goodbyes for now and Lady Isabella escorting him to the third floor and to his room, he saw Helena already opening the door for him and staying in a curtsy position. He turned back and kissed Lady Isabella's hand before going into the room completely. He noticed Lady Isabella eyeing Helena before leaving. Watching Helena close the door and right when she turned around to look at him; he let out a heavy sigh.

"And you have to listen to her insensate chattering. I feel sorry for you. In fact, I feel more sorry for the children when they are in trouble."

Helena's nose twitch. She wanted to burst out laughing, but she knew that would very rude in front of the mansion's guest and disrespectful to her Mistress. So, instead, she watched Master Da Vinci with utmost confusion on her face.

He slowly sat down on the bed and sighed. Looking back to Helena, he blinked.

"Oh, please do not be like that on my account. You may speak freely around me. I do not do those reports and hand it over to your mistress."

She nodded quietly and then curtsied a bit.

"Thank you."

"And none of that curtsy sort. I am too old for that."

Da Vinci slowly laid back on the bed and let out a sigh of relief.

"Speaking of being too old, I am also too lazy. If you could do me a favour and change from the current shoes to the housing shoes. That would be lovely."

"Of course."

Helena walked over to the wardrobe that was in the room and opened it up to grab the housing slippers that were resting quietly on the ground. Walking back to Master Da Vinci. She kneeled down and took off one shoe and placed one housing slipper. Then took off the other shoe and placed on the other housing slipper. The shoes and feet smelled; but doing laundry for a one-year-old--nothing phases her as a foul stench. Hearing mumblings coming from Master Da Vinci, she knitted her eyebrows in confusion, but then stood up to start placing away his shoes along with his belongings in the wardrobe so he did not have to go in and out of his luggage.

"Lugete, O Veneres Cupidinesque"

"The first "e" is to sound like an "i". "Veen-eh-reese."

Helena said that nonchalantly as she placed the undergarments in the draws of the wardrobe.

"Oh yes. Correct. Thank yo--"

Da Vinci sat up quickly at that. Watching Helena curiously, he furrowed the two white caterpillars on his forehead that he calls eyebrows.

"You just spoke Latin."

Helena stopped, but dared not turn around.

"...Can read it as well."

"Where do you hail from, Helena? And please do look who is speaking to you."

Helena turned about, holding the last clothing of his she needed to place away. She slowly looked up to him and blinked.

"Born in Roma. Raised here in Mantua."

"Any education?"

"The books here."

"And how long have you been here?"

"Six. Close to seven. I am to be Lord Federico's tutor upon his return."

"Why did she choose you? Why not hire a professor?"

"Time. Cost. And convenience. It would take time for a professor to know Lord Federico's patience and temper. It would cost more to hire a professor than it is to add on an increase in my wages. It is convenient to have someone already residing within the mansion."

Scooting to the edge of the bed, he slowly stood up and walked closer to her. He watched her eyes with the utmost attention; trying to stare into it and beyond it. He watched Helena first watch him in confusion and then back up a bit.

"What is your age?"

"Seventeen in a few short months."

"No. You are far older than that. You are older than this whole mansion."

Helena didn't know whether to take that as a complement or an insult. Either way, she knitted her eyebrows in confusion.

"I beg your pardon!?"

"Nono. Just that your eyes. Eyes tell many stories and never lie about it. Yours just tell many stories. Out on the sea, in fact. And traveling so far, looking for someone. Trying to save him, in fact."

Watching Master Da Vinci looking so serious, she blinked and slowly shook her head.

"My apologies, Master Da Vinci. But living in Mantua, there is no water but streams and small rivers close by."

Da Vinci watched her watch him watch her, but then softly smile and let out a hearty chuckle.

"It is I who should be apologising to you. For you are the one who has to an old man's ramblings throughout my visit here."

"And were you not listening to Lady Isabella's ramblings?"

"Fair enough. I have a question to ask of you. Actually, more of a request."

"Yes?"

"Would you mind sitting in for me on a portrait I am working on? So many stories and your age in your eyes are something that needs to be placed in a portrait."

Helena was downright speechless. But only one thing came out of her mouth immediately.

"You are to be doing a portrait of Lady Isabella. If she fi--"

"Oh pish posh. I am doing a portrait of her. A sketch to be precise. I will speak in details of that at the dinner. But this portrait is something that I have been working on for nearly a year. There was noone's eyes that has captivated me so much like yours."

Helena blushed deeply. She could not pass up an opportunity like this. She smiled softly and nodded.

"It would be an honour to sit in for your portrait. But, it has to be done at night."

"Night is good."

"Three before sunrise to be precise. Most of the servants will be sleeping by then. The last one sets in by two past midnight. And the first one to wake up for breakfast is a two before sunrise. So that will give you an hour. Will that be fine?"

"More than fine. I am still awake at that point in time."

"Then sit in, I shall."

"Wonderful."

Da Vinci yawned a bit before walking back to the bed.

"I am going to rest before the feast. I will call for you when I need you."

She nodded at that. Once Helena saw Master Da Vinci hit the bed and just started snoring as if he had been sleeping for hours, she started walking towards the door as quietly as she could. Gently opening the door, she looked back to Master Da Vinci; and she could not help but grin so widely. Stepping out into the hallway, she closed the door at a slow pace. She wanted to slam herself against the door and shout and holler with excitement and glee; but instead, she placed her back against the door and slowly slid down to the floor and stared up at the ceiling all dreamily-like. She then finally whispered something she never thought in a million lifetimes she would say.

"Leonardo Da Vinci will be painting me."
~~~~~~~~~~~

(500) Years of Johnathan - Darkness Waits ~ Part One
Original Posting Date: 11/01/2008

Early Morning of December 29th, 1890 - Wounded Knee Creek, South Dakota

Jumping Star was the nineteen year-old wife of the Warrior-Chief, Running Eagle. She gained her name on the night she was born, there was three shooting stars; but they came as if one star was playing leapfrog. She was a match for Running Eagle seeing how she also had a sense of adventure; but also had responsibilities of eventually becoming the Tribe Chief's wife--once Running Eagle's father passes on to the next life. She did not sleep during the night. Instead, she ran off to towards the creek; to become the unappointed scout. Jumping Star knew she would be severely punished for doing this action; but Running Eagle did not send anyone to scout out what the enemies would do.

It was sunrise when Jumping Star was a mile away from the creek. Trees were now appearing a bit more as she went from tree to tree. Taking a breather, she sighed and looked up to the sky. By now, the men should be awake and ready to head over here. She would rather see what was going on, then cut them off to inform of what she saw rather than seeing it for themselves. Standing upright, she was getting ready to leave when she heard the croaking of a frog. Looking up, she saw a simple frog; but it was no tree frog. Frogs like that kind should not be up in the tree. Watching it for a moment, it hopped down and right ontop of her head. Jumping Star was not feared by it.

"If you know way, please lead."

The frog hopped off of her head and onto the ground. With that, the frog started hopping towards the creek, with Jumping Star in tow.

"BECKETT!"

The sergeant placed his rifle to his side before saluting Colonel Millard. His light short-brown hair was slicked back and his olive-green eyes stared directly to the Colonel.

"Sir!"

"Ah. Since you have been promoted six months ago, you have done nothing but superb excellence. It is, however, your previous post that has not."

"Sir?"

"I have not found an equally superb, if not better scout than you. I do not have the patience today to deal with the idiocy that is the scouting crew. So, I request a favor for just this once take back your original post and to prove those little boys what scouting is."

Beckett nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"Do it now. Dismissed."

With that, Beckett headed out towards the north, the Creek.

It only took twenty minutes for Beckett to get to the creek itself. Staying behind one of the trees, he checked to make sure the rifle was ready. Keeping a weary eye out, he heard or saw nothing. Five minutes went by and still nothing. It was nearly another ten minutes went he heard some rustling close by. Having his rifle at the ready, Beckett looked sternly to the northeast. Finally, the little frog hopped out from behind one of the trees and crouched nearby Beckett's foot. Looking down, Beckett chuckled and rested his rifle against the tree.

"Well hey little fellow. Why are you out here by yourself?"

A slender hand reached out from one of the other trees to grab the rifle. Slowly coming out from behind the tree, Jumping Star held the rifle--not in a steady matter, but pointing it towards the man.

"Stand."

Beckett looked straight forward before slowly placing his arms up a bit.

"I do not mean harm."

"Then why with the rifle?"

"For securit--"

Beckett stopped abruptly before slowly standing up, his arms still in the air.

"Why is a lady like you out here on your own?"

"The frog helped me to find traitors like you."

"Nice accomplice."

"I am going to take you back to my camp where you will explain to the warriors where all your soldiers are positioned."

He chuckled a bit, still having his back facing the lady.

"Well. If I am your prisoner, then I am Sergeant Jarrod Beckett."

"I care not who you are. Now move."

Jumping Star pushed the end of the barrel of the rifle against Beckett's back to move him forward. The frog moved immediately before leading the way. Walking directly behind the man, Jumping Star keep the rifle against his back and checked to make sure that the frog was leading them back towards the camp. Ten minutes of silence and walking north before she finally spoke.

"The name. Jumping Star."

He said nothing as he marched on behind the frog. Five more minutes passed by before he spoke again.

"Lovely name. Frog have a name as well?"

"Frog."

"Fair enough. So. Why did they choose a lady to be the scout?"

"They did not."

Beckett stopped and he winced a bit when the rifle dug into his back. Slowly turning about, he blinked. Seeing Jumping Star finally, she was not he was expecting. In fact, it seemed like he knew her.

Same thing with Jumping Star. She never lowered the rifle, but canted her head a bit.

"Do you always have the frog with you?"

"From time to time."

"Why..why.."

Beckett chuckled before sighing a bit, seeing Jumping Star's stoic face.

"Have we m--"

"For once, you did something right, Jumping Star."

Half of the warrior tribe appeared from behind the trees and jumped down from the trees as well. All of the spears, arrows strung into their bows were pointed directly to Beckett.

Jumping Star looked about at her fellow tribesmen, both surprised and not surprised at the same time. Seeing Running Eagle come up to the both of them, he slapped Jumping Star harshly.

"We will discuss your punishment of your defiance later."

Running Eagle was about six-feet tall. Broad-chested and toasted-from-the-sun skin. The jet-black hair was tied back with a leather strap adorned with eagle-feathers. The brown-with-golden-flaked eyes watched her sternly before grabbing the rifle from her grasp.

Beckett had a sudden urge to run to Jumping Star's side, but some of the warriors came closer to him and pointed the arrows directly at his head. Placing his arms up higher, he watched the Warrior-Chief take away the rifle from Jumping Star before pointing the rifle to Beckett and look at him sternly.

"You will tell us everything. Where your men are positioned and how many weapons you have."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(500) Years of Johnathan - So Long, False Prophet ~ Part One
Original Posting Date: 11/15/2008

Morning of November 4th, 2008 - Washington, DC

Helena barely slept for an hour before she looked at her blackberry as her clock. "4:32AM" She might as well get up. Turning off the alarm on the blackberry, she looked back to the sleeping Jarrod before moving herself out of bed and into the bathroom to take a shower. Fifteen minutes later, she hopped out and kept the towel wrapped around her. Wiping off the condensated water from the mirror above the sink, Helena's dark-brown eyes looked up a bit as she brushed out the wet shoulder-length light-brown hair. She quickly placed on lotion on her inner left wrist as a tattoo that she received from was still healing. It was just a compass rose with a ship's helm as its base. She didn't know how she designed it or why she did; it just seemed right to her. Placing lotion on the rest of her arms, Helena made sure she was mostly dried off before she turned off the lights to go out to the bedroom to get changed.

By the time she was ready and nearly packed, it was only 5:07AM. Starbucks wasn't open for another twenty minutes or so. And--thank goodness for being a moderate-but-cheap apartment complex--there was the Starbucks two blocks from the apartment. Opening up her netbook, Helena checked her EMails and the daily blogs; which wasted about fifteen minutes. Looking at the clock at the bottom-right corner, she closed down her netbook, unplugged the headphones and packed it up in its case. Not paying attention, Helena assumed she grabbed her iPod and placed it in her messenger bag along with the headphones. Placing the netbook in her bag as well, she was getting ready to leave before looking into the bedroom with the sleeping Jarrod. She gave a slight smile before grabbing her keys in the bowl on the end-table beside the door. She unlocked the three locks before opening it and walking out.

It was five past six in the morning by the time Helena unlocked the precinct door. She was second in command for this Senator Obama campaign precinct and just barely passing the age of 24, it was an accomplishment. The others won't be in until a little before 7, which will be when the polling places will open; so Helena will be expecting a lot of phone calls. It wasn't until the past week did the opposing and "threat" calls rolled in. Noone was surprised by the negative calls, but were surprised that it only started to occur a week prior to the Elections. No matter, Helena and the rest of the precinct have been doing well with the threats and complaints and, very luckily, none of them exceeded past just phone calls and letters. Plus thing about having the precinct in the business district of DC, no one has time to deface a building. Inside the precinct was your average campaign precinct. Every sign rooting for Senator Obama scattered about the place. Both professional photos and photos done by fellow campaigners from all over the country. There were four offices and the main floor had twenty-three desks. One of the offices were for the first-in-command for this precinct and another office should be for Helena; but she is not a big fan of confined work areas. So they kept her office as the surplus area. The other two offices became the breakroom and the office supply area.

Today was the second-to-last day within this precinct. Whether Senator Obama wins or loses, all will be appreciated for the hard-work that has been done for the past thirteen months. Helena needed to finish up the "Sucks that Senator Obama lost" speech and do retouches on the "Hooray that Obama is now President-Elect!" speech. And yes, she did title the speeches that. Going to her desk that has been assigned to her for the past thirteen months, she grabbed her netbook that was in its case and placed it on the desk. Fishing out the headphones and the iPod before she finally looked to the iPod itself. Placing her forehead on the desk before sighing, Helena failed to look to see which iPod it was--and she grabbed Jarrod's. Needing music, Helena sucked it up and plugged in the headphones to the iPod. Placing the songs on shuffle, a song immediately came on. The iPod stated "Play With Me by Extreme." It sounded cool and she has never heard of it before. Opening up her netbook, Helena let the song play and play the time the first verse started playing and she knew the words but this was the first time she heard it.

"Ring around the rosie. Hopscotch, Monopoly, red light, green light, G. I. Joes and Barbies. Hide and seek, kick the can, Cowboys and Indians. Wiffle ball, paper dolls. Hacky sack and hangman. Do you wanna play with me?"

While she was singing, there were sudden silhouettes of her own shadow and others that were fighting running against the walls and the desks. Looking over to the doors; there was noone there nor anyone at the windows. She shook her head before getting to work on the speeches.

Some songs Helena knew, and some she didn't; but she was never one to say no to new music. It was 6:45 in the morning when once again another song she never knew came on; but again she knew the words. This time is was a slow song with violins, orchestral and rock.

"Eyes that open slowly; it's so hard to see. I've never seen an angel, but I'm trying to believe."

This time, silhouettes of herself and a small creature dancing all about the precinct. She has never seen a creature like that before. Taking the iPod with her, she went to one the dancing silhouettes against the wall and was just about to touch it before the front doors open. Three of her campaigners came in. Looking back to the wall, there were no more dancing silhouettes; just her own shadow from the rising sun through the door. Taking off the headphones, she looked back to her campaigners and chuckled a bit.

"Did you even leave here last night?"

Helena chuckled as she watched Milly-Ann head over to Helena's desk. More and more of the campaigners came in Helena ran over to her desk and closed down her netbook. Milly-Ann looked at her for a moment before chuckling and placing her hand over Helena's hair to mess it up.

"Silly Hell. How far are you with the speeches?"

"Nearly complete with the Losing. I have to revise the Winning."

Milly-Ann was going to continue on before Derrick, the man in charge came in with two coffee cups in his hands.

"Alright folks. Polling places are now open and I want hourly updates from the places of how many voters have been there. I don't care what political placement, I just want to know. Jack, you and Milly-Ann will be head of phones today. Karem, Jose, Kari, Marc, and Patricia are the ones to get the hourly updates. Helena, I wanted those speeches done two days ago."

"They will be done within the hour."

Watching Derrick go into his office, Helena sighed before opening back up her netbook. Placing the iPod down, daring not to have crazy little silhouettes while she is working. Breathing in deeply, she stared at the computer screen before she started typing again. She knew it was going to be a long day--and she hopes it will be a successful day in the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(500) Years of Johnathan - Time with the Moon
Original Posting Date: 12/02/2008

Evening of July 20, 1969 - Kennedy Space Center, FL

There was something about the air within the island. Nothing dangerous to the human body, but the scent of technology and engineering filled the place. Rarely anyone was out this late in the evening--in fact noone is. All the housings within the Center and the island--in fact nearly all over the world--was in their homes or somewhere that had either a television or a radio. It was a little past ten in the evening on the Eastern Timezone when broadcasters of the local news stations were announcing that it will be moments away until man will place feet on the moon.

Four days ago, Saturn V carrying Apollo 11 was a go as Command Module Columbia--attached was lunar module Eagle--successfully lifted off from launch complex 39A at the Kennedy Space Center on Merritt Island in Florida. A little after four o' clock this afternoon, they successfully landed on the moon.

With just now six hours of anticipation; the launch command, families and friends, the Space Center and all of America was waiting for this. Something that President Kennedy promised before his tragic fall: man will walk on the moon and return safely home.

Ground Control Center was one place where noone slept on the job--and if they did, it might be in the resting room where cots and a couple of couches were scattered about here and there for those long overnight shifts or drawn-out missions. This mission in particular took nearly all of the men to handle the Control Center. It was necessary to have so many; but all of them wanted to be part of something important in not only aeronautic history, but something everyone will read for centuries to come.

The families of the men currently in space were waiting impatiently in the visitors' room. Wives and children alike. Some of the younger children were curled up and sleeping in the chairs while the slightly older children were just the ones to stay silent but have the look of boredom upon their faces. There was one young adult though who really should not be there; but was invited by her aunt and the uncle that is only moments away from being the first man on the moon.

Johnnie lived with her aunt Janet and uncle Neil since she went to Florida Metropolitan University which is only a half-hour away from Merritt Island. It was only within the past five years that most universities in Florida accepted females to further their education and careers. Johnnie, however, was doing neither. Oh, of course she wanted to get a degree...in what she has yet to decide completely. And being 21, she is nearing the end of college and still has yet which major she is pursuing towards. Johnnie, short for Johnatha, never set her goals on the right path. But it is nice to still be school, in general. Education was one of the only things to keep her life in check. Her parents got a divorce right when she was going into high school. Johnnie understood why it happened; but it is still a trigger in every child's mind that they are to blame for the separation. Through therapy and working hard at school, Johnnie learned to deal with the anger and sadness she had to endure. Neverthematter; she was content with college...well, except for the American History she is currently going through. Sadly, the books were not up-to-date and have not been integrated with Afro-American History that has been done during this decade. Heading back to an empty chair and a chair right beside it with a school-bag, she sat down slowly and grabbed out the chunky book that is sadly called "American History of the Caucasian". Moving her wavy dark-brown hair away from her face, the matching brown eyes looked down to the words on the page as her hands opened the book to the two pages that had the bookmark on it.

He stood there, completely amazed with not only what's only gone down there with all the pretty buttons and bleep-bloops, but he was also observing the visitors as well. He appreciated the adults, but it would be odd for a young who looked about 23 or 24 to talk very professionally to the women. Oh, don't think incorrectly. This one appreciates all genders and their intelligence--but in this day and age; he is not too sure if they would appreciate his talk. He looked over to the one with her nose practically stuck in a book. He couldn't read the title correctly as he squinted. He then fumbled about for his glasses, but then quickly worried as they were not in his pockets. Feeling about himself, he suddenly looked like a man trying to feel himself up and he kind of realised that as well as some of the men and the ladies looked at him curiously. He then quickly stopped; but not because of the looks, only because he soon figured out that he placed his glasses on top of his head. Chuckling to himself a bit, he plucked the glasses from his slight pomped brown hair and placed it on his face.

He was dressed peculiarly for a young man his age. It was a cross between a professor during this time and yet had a vibe from the turn of the century. He liked this look, so he didn't mind at all. Getting closer to the young lady, he examined the book only to find out it was a textbook.

Johnnie kept her eyes on the words, but from the top of the book she did see someone get closer to get a good look at the book. Looking back down to the word in the book, she waited for a few minutes of silence from the both of them before finally speaking.

"You're a professor. You should know how easily distracted one could get while reading these boring books."

The young man blinked before trying to look past the book, however whenever he moved his head up, she moved the book up a bit. Whenever he moved to the sides, she moved the book to the sides. He then pursed his lips before grabbing the top of the book and pulling it away from her. Finally seeing her, he canted his head a bit before looking down to the book and skimming through it. His voice was young-man-like but did have a British-tinge to it.

"Don't you think we are too old for Peek-A-Boo? Also, this book will be getting a new edition next year."

Johnnie watched him as he skimmed through the book for a moment. Crossing her arms a bit before she canted her head.

"Tell that to the sleeping kids five hours ago. I'm sure they will yell and argue with you."

"Hmm. And arguing children are kind of annoying. Of course when you get to an argument with an Alazrian; woo-boy. Far worse than whiny human children."

He saw the confusion in the lady's eyes and face. He, too gave a look of confusion, then just shrugged it off.

"Sorry. Babble a bit. I'm the Doctor."

"Johnatha. Johnnie for short. Nice to meet you 'The.'

"Nice to meet you, too, Joh--"

The Doctor stopped abruptly as he gave her a playful glare when he saw her stick out her tongue for calling him "The" as his name. Handing the book back to her, he stretched out a bit, then laced his glasses back on his head. His olive-brown tweed coat exposed the dark-grey shirt underneath a bit, but then relaxed as soon as he did.

"Refresh my memory what is going on here."

Taking the book back, Johnnie placed it in the chair beside her that had her school-bag and the school supplies she brought along with her. Slowly standing up, she suddenly looked to the Doctor as if he has been living under a rock for this long.

"Have you not been paying attention to the news or the radio? The men from Apollo Eleven landed on the Moon six hours ago and will be stepping out onto it in any minute. It'll be not only a historic moment for America, but for all the world."

He looked at her in shock, then pulled back his coat sleeve a bit to look at a watch. It was a watch that did not seem like a watch of any kind. It must have been from another country. But it seemed far too advanced for another country. He tapped on it, then nodded a bit.

"You're right. You're right. I know you're right. Silly me. Too much traveling and not enough to know my surroundings in good time."

Johnnie nodded a bit before looking out through the window; out to the Control Command down stairs. Looking back to where the Doctor--now isn't. She looked around for a moment before she saw him at the window. Slowly walking over beside him, she tried to look out the window, but kept on giving him side glances.

The Doctor moved over to the window when Johnnie was looking at it. He looked down to the Command Control. Seeing that the clock stated 20:29 UTC, he nodded to himself before he saw in the reflection of the window Johnnie continuously glance at him.

"Johnatha. An unusual name."

Johnnie shrugged a bit.

"My dad didn't care if I was a boy or a girl, he was to name his first child 'Johnathan.' When my mom gave birth to me, they compromised to drop the 'n' at the end. My mom thought 'Johnatha' sounded slightly more feminine. Everyone in school teased me, so I just made 'Johnnie' as my permanent nickname."

"Hmm."

He tapped his nose thoughtfully for a moment, then his eyes went wide. He looked at Johnnie before looking at the window, then back to Johnnie.

"My goodness! You're her! It's you! You-you-you-you! He's been looking for you! My goodness! But why are you here if you are to be in his time?"

Johnnie knitted her eyebrows as she watched the keyboard seem to be having spasm attacks.

"I am who specifically?"

"What was that phrase he used. Soul-Mates. No. Uh...Fool-Gates? Pound-Cakes? Fond-Cakes? Fondue? Gold Bond? NO! Bond-Mates! You are his Bond-Mate. That little guy. He's small...and...small...and oh! Blue! Cannot remember his name, though. I'm sure you have figured it out by now."

She watched him, kind of cautiously as he kept flinging his arms about. However, she pursed her lips in confusion and slowly shook her head.

"Sorry. I do not know anything of that sort."

"He was saying about setting sail to nowhere and everywhere. He had to deal with Hunter, first. Who ever that was. Gosh, why can't I remember his name?"

The name "Hunter" triggered something in Johnnie. Looking up to the Doctor, she blinked before knitting her eyebrows in confusion and shock.

" 'Hunter' was the codename of my depression and anger when I was in therapy. Like an alter-ego."

The Doctor kept silent before looking back out to Control Command, he smiled a bit before he nudged Johnnie out of her daze.

"The time is now."

Right as she was nudged out of her daze, Johnnie looked out through the window to see the camera feed. Slightly fuzzy and static-like; it was her Uncle Neil that was slowly stepping out from the lunar module. Everyone was quiet and barely moved to watch and hear all that they could. All over the United States and most of the world watch watching or hearing what the men, women and children were hearing in the Control Command. World and Space as everyone knew is now different. Different for the better. Ten minutes have passed before Johnnie realised the Doctor's reflection was no longer upon the window. Looking around, Johnnie didn't see him in the room. Quietly and quickly going out of the visitors' room, she looked down the halls on both sides. Johnnie saw the last portion of the Doctor's shoes going to the left down the hall. She ran to catch up with him.

Down the stair she went and stopped briefly to see the resting room for the employees opened ajar. Running over to the door, Johnnie peeked her head in. Looking amazed, she blinked and shook her head to make sure she was not seeing things. There was an old blue police-box with a sign on it about the phone. She had seen these before--but only on the television and in photos. The Doctor opened the door a smidge to the police-box before looking back to Johnnie; keeping silent for a minute.

"He told me that no matter how long it took him and how many lifetimes he had to cross through, he would find you again."

"This small blue guy. ..Does..."

Johnnie paused, but only for a small second to gain the courage and curiosity of the question.

"Does he love whoever I am?"

He did nothing but smile softly. With that, the Doctor opened the door enough to let himself in and closed it behind him.

It was only a few seconds before the sounds of whirring filled the room. Watching the light ontop of the police-box blink on and off, she knitted her eyebrows before she braved herself to go after the police-box. The police-box was mostly faded by the time she attempted to touch it; but what was there did give off a pale-green glow. And right as the police-box was gone the sound of the whirring stopped but the glow grew brighter until it swallowed both Johnnie and the room.

~~~~~~~

It was dawn and all of the men were working on the buildings as the women started planting the crops for the season. It took the tribe a few months to establish a comprehensive environment to the Franciscans, but they all knew that this will be for the better. The Franciscans helped out with education and better living while the Tongva tribe also showed the way of living along with providing labor and food. Natan kept to herself, though. Pounding away to ground the corn and to sift it, she overheard some of the Franciscans speak about some of the women in the not-so-polite way. Biting her tongue harshly, she knew that The Man Who Trembles The Earth will smite them. The Man that they call Archangel Gabriel.
---------------------------------------

(500) Years of Johnathan - Angel of Trembles ~ Part Two
Original Posting Date: 12/16/2008

Afternoon of October 26th, 1771 - Shevaanga, Alta California

Natan stayed close to the stream, tears running down her face. She didn't want anyone outside of her tribe to know of what they believed is a curse. Natan, however, believed it is just a burden.

It was rare for any metal to be within the tribe in the first place unless trades occur with travelers and other tribes. All of it started when she was about four. Her parents were helping in trading with livestock and the travelers traded with metal food platters, it was then when Natan started to hear chatters about the "olden days" and the stories of what the platters saw. Noone believed her and thought Natan was having too much fun with her "imaginary mates." It was when Natan was twelve when her tribe and four other tribes had this big gathering and trade-off. She ruined a whole tribe's trade since it was all of metal. Her family had to give practically all of the items to trade to compensate the damage. Since then, everyone in the tribe--even her family--kept away from her due to her random outbursts if metal was within her sight.

Watching the stream flow by, Natan only kept to herself; but hummed a bit one of the tribal prayers*. The prayer had no words to it, but it does seem it should have five or six sets of drums to go along with it. The rhythm went along with the flow of the stream, both steady and strong. Slowly closing her eyes, her humming faded until she drifted off to sleep.

Father Pedro discussed the unusual event that happened between himself and Natan to the other fathers. After hours of discussion, they came up with two possible solutions. But find out which solution will be the true outcome, the fathers came up with a few tests. Father Pedro what area to find Natan, but he was figuring that she would only run away more if it was all of the fathers. He the suggested to the other fathers to bring her back to the church on his own. Before he left to go towards where Natan is, he took a small detour.

Heading out towards the stream, Father Pedro took in the surroundings. Not much of trees, but enough to give some shade; but these trees will be cut down soon to use as wood for the growing mission. It took him awhile than it should have due to the leisure pace, but he did get to the stream. Now...where to find Natan is the question. It didn't take long to search for her, as she was resting on her stomach right next to the bank of the stream. Keeping his pace at a leisure rate, he crouched down right beside her and lightly nudged her on her shoulder.

"Natan. Natan."

Feeling the nudge, her eyes slowly opened up to see Father Pedro above her. Quickly scooting from him, she moved from being a worm to all-fours; finally giving herself and him a good ten feet distance. Saying nothing, she watched him cautiously; not knowing what his reaction was to the cross...and not knowing what he will say.

Father Pedro gave her a calming look as he smiled softly.

"Please, do not fear, darling child. I just wanted to know you were safe. Running off like that had me worried a bit."

Natan said nothing, let alone barely moved. The only two ways anyone could tell she was alive was the blinking of her eyes and the slow and quiet breathing. If anyone could listen closer, her heart was racing with fear.

"The other Fathers would like to speak to you. They would also like to be tutored about your language. Is that alright with you?"

Father Pedro had to lie. It is not recommended at all while being under oath and code with the Lord Christ and Holy Father, but it was towards the benefit of the two. He knew he would repent later, lying seemed to be the best and only way for Natan to trust him again. Slowly standing up, he only took a few steps closer to her before holding out his hand. The rest of the distance and the decision of trust is now up to Natan.

Listening to him, Natan blinked and thought for a moment. It is possible that Father Pedro could be in denial of what happened earlier in the day--which Natan would prefer--or he could be waiting to speak to her about it if she decides to go back with him. Keeping quiet, but sighing, she crawled slowly towards him. She hesitated for a moment for reaching for his hand. With his help, she lifted herself up from all fours. Sadly, the simple linen dress was covered in mud; which Natan truly did not mind, but she did see the look of slight disgust on Father Pedro's face.

Helping her up, he did look at her with a smidge of disgust; but he was also expecting this on her. Father Pedro gestured back towards the mission; but still held onto her hand in a polite manner. He finally let go of her hand as she started walking back to the mission.

They walked side-by-side with a good arm's distance between eachother. It took a little less time than it did with Father Pedro going to the stream, but once they got to the mission grounds, he stopped for a moment before gesturing over to the houses.

"I asked some of the clothing maidens to create a new dress fer ye. It is nothing too elaborate, but simple and if you wish you may wash up before the tutoring session begins. Please take all the time you need, I will be in the church if you need me."

With that, Father Pedro bowed slightly to her and started walking towards the church.

Natan kept quiet throughout the walk back to the mission. Listening to Father Pedro suggesting her to change and clean, she nodded but still said nothing. Watching him leave, she looked back to her tribe's village, she sighed and headed to one of the clothing weaver's cottage.

An hour later, Natan was clean and wearing an off-white cotton dress with a red sash about her waist. She actually did not like this look on her, but tutoring four fathers at a time; it would be appropriate to be decent-looking. Once she reached the church door, she blinked and stood in front of it for a couple of minutes. Breathing in deeply, she slowly opened the large wooden door and peeked her head inside.

As the sun passed its mid-peak it was slowly coming down and the tall candles were lit along the walls. The benches were gone, save for one. Two tables from the school area moved from there to in front of podium and altar in the center. There were no books around. Upon the table were objects that were all covered by white cloth. Behind the table, all staring at Natan, were the four fathers for this mission. Father Pedro, who was in the center-left from Natan's point of view, gestured her towards the bench.

"Please, have a seat, Natan."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Think Cosmo Canyon from Final Fantasy VII and that is the prayer.

(500) Years of Johnathan - Journey to the Past
Original Posting Date - 12/31/2008

11:00PM PST on December 31st, 1999 - San Diego, CA

Her world is falling apart in front of her. Helen didn't want to be part of the statistics. Her last day of her now-former job was just six hours ago. Half of her possessions were boxed up and in storage nearly three-hundred miles away. She could not afford an apartment on her own any longer and forced herself to move in with her parents up in Northern California while Helen was in San Diego. She never gained actual friends here that she could ask to move in to their place. Slowly standing from the kitchen table, she folded the letter she finished up nearly an hour ago and left it beside a small red address book and her cell-phone before walking into her bedroom.

Freshly showered and with newly purchased clothes on, Helen looked over to the mirror nearby her desk of drawers. She placed up the slightly wavy dark-brown hair in a bun. Her also dark-brown eyes were red for crying since she got home. Looking over to the drawers, she crouched down to the bottom drawer and opened it up. Digging through the random paperwork she never had the time or the gumption to sort, Helen grabbed the .38 special underneath. There was nothing so spectacular about it. One of her ex-boyfriends registered her to be a legal gun-carrier and purchased that for her. Why? To this day, she never knew. Not like it will matter to her by the end of the hour. Closing the drawer as she stood up, she walked over to her bed and sat on the edge; facing her closet doors.

Staring down at the gun in her hand, she sighed before she started crying again. Shaking her head out of this, she took the safety off before looking up at the empty closet doors.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Helen heard the male voice, but thought it was one of the many other voices that have surrounded her for the past year. Cocking the gun, as teardrops landed on the barrel, she slowly lifted her hand to her right temple.

"Really, Helen? After all these centuries, you are placing yourself down this low in the totem pole?"

Helen stood upright from the bed, the gun pointing out in the air. Fear and anger now filled her eyes and was shown on her face. Someone had to been in her apartment. None of the voices were that sarcastic.

"Show yourself, creep."

"Creep? Now that is a new one that you never called me before."

It was a simple and middle-aged man. He was most certainly not dressed to be a "creep" or even a burglar for that matter. He was in an olive-green business suit with a jet-black undershirt and a strange blue-green tie--one of those where if you tilt your head one way it looks blue and tilt your head to the other side it looks green. His hair was pure-snow-white and slicked back in a father-figure kind of way. His beard was trimmed and equally as white as his hair. His eyes were stone-grey as he watched Helen curiously.

Once Helen saw him out of the corner of her eye, she quickly turned about and pointed the gun at him. Having her finger on the trigger, she was ready to fire at him when needed. And it seemed like she wasn't afraid to use the gun, either.

"Let's see. Old-Man. Stupid-Head. Jerk. Doofus. Oh! My personal favorite, floozie. But that was only because of that one time when I dressed up as a lady for All Hallow's Eve. But never creep. I give you credit for that one."

"Who in the Hell are you?"

The man gave her a look of disappointment.

"Do you really expect me to look all Gandalf the White nowadays? Come on! It's 2000! ...Oh wait..."

The man rolled up his sleeve and all along his arm were just watches. Rolex, Fossil, Swatch, even those little cheesy digital watches that kids get to start telling time. He even had a sun dial, an hour-glass, and even an Aquitaine ring in a watch-format. He looked at a Mickey Mouse watch and nodded a bit before looking back up to Helen and the gun pointed directly at him.

"Forgot. In California. It is still 1999 for another 28 minutes. Either way, I like to keep up appearances with the timeline. Don't you remember? The mysterious man at the Berlin Wall? Da Vinci? Sergeant Beckett? The Doctor? Any of those folks ring a bell?"

Once the man started mentioning those names, Helen quickly shut her eyes tightly. Seeing their faces and hearing their voices cut back and forth, she quickly shook her head out of it and looked up at the man with anger.

"No. NononononononoNO! Those are just other parts of my imagination. Just. Like. You."

He could not help but laugh, which he knew would make Helen more pissed...which it did. Straightening himself up, he cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Just that even when I first approached you to explain the Frog, you never thought I was a figment of your imagination back then."

"Who are you?"

"Sorry. You would think after all this time--heh--you would have figured out by now."

Helen's eyebrows knitted together before she canted her head a bit.

"You're...no. NO. You look too young to be him."

"Again with the Gandalf thing. Although that cartoon show Hysteria! did a nice old interpretation of me."

"You can't be Father-Time."

"Here. I will show you what you will say in about ten minutes or so."

The man supposed as Father-Time pointed towards her closet door, which were of a off-white color. It seemed like the image is on a projector screen, slightly scratchy and a bit faded with color, but there was Helen, holding the gun still firmly towards him. Her voice was also a bit mono-sounding. He looked at current-time Helen before he started paying attention.

"... this eye of yours where I travel and you observe. Have some tattoo on my inner left wrist to represent some meaningful thing towards a small blue critter who is blind that I am married to and I have to be near water at all times."

Helen could not believe what she is seeing and hearing. She looked around her to make sure there was no camera crew or hidden cameras for that matter nearby. Looking back to Father-Time, she blinked before the face of confusion went right back to anger.

"So why didn't get here any sooner than now? These voices and memories have been with me for a year now."

"I thought saving you from suicide would be more appropriate. Plus Renne would not have been very pleased with me when you tell him that you died in one of your lives."

She watched him sternly for another minute before uncocking the gun. However, she did keep the gun on him.

"So why did my memories collect and bundle to right now? Why right now?"

"Every part of the timeline, including your life right now were quests to remember who you really are. Why you exist. And who you exist with."

"So, let me get this straight. You are Father-Time. All these lives where I think they are my multiple personalities are actual lives I have lived, but it was not me at the same time. I am somehow this protector of a harbor. Hate people. Never make friends so easily. Be an outsider and sometimes an outcast. Travel to the end of the world to find someone that I love while doing it in musical format. Be this eye of yours where I travel and you observe. Have some tattoo on my inner left wrist to represent some meaningful thing towards a small blue critter who is blind that I am married to and I have to be near water at all times?"

Helen blinked at that, knitting her eyebrows in confusion.

"Deja vu."

"Told you. But that pretty much sums it up, yes."

Helen, still aware, but clicked on the safety on the side. Watching him cautiously, she turned the gun about, holding onto the barrel and gesturing it towards him. Watching him watch her watch him, he grabbed the gun carefully and placed it behind him on the coffee table.

"So I am all of these ladies and yet none of them at the same time?"

Helen was more confused than ever. She watched him, getting ready to call herself crazy and admit herself into an institution.

"You are only one, a different one. These lives, though, were lessons and puzzles which you obviously solved. You regained the majority of your memories."

"But I still don't know WHO I AM."

"Which is the final part of the puzzle. You have the piece, now you just need to position it correctly. Living on your own like you have been doing here is what I needed to know you could have done. Without Renne. Without the Port-Town or the Harbour. Without anyone you have met throughout your real life. Without unlocking these memories, you would have been the shell and the toy The Darkness craved for you to be."

"But what of the hints? The figurine? Talenka? Jarrod? Cinder? Everything?"

"I cannot control your subconscious. Noone but yourself can."

"What about The Doctor?"

"That one I am not so sure on. I will have a discussion with him later."

"I just want my life back. My true life. Whichever one that is."

He nodded. With that, the pale-green glow surrounded the both of them and the apartment to a near blinding sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ugh. Can this bloody green-glow-flashing stop?"

Johnathan held onto her forehead as she opened her eyes in a squinting manner. Looking up, the skies were a bit grey and cloudy, but there was enough sun to keep her eyes squinting. Grunting a bit, she slowly got up from the gravel-and-dirt road. Finally have her eyes wide open, she blinked. Her charm bracelet, her "wedding ring", Talenka, the bottle of the Oceans' Water, the Yeti's claw, her infused frog-charm as the base of her neck, the dark-red shirt, the light-brown leather pants and matching calf-length boots and even her sheathed criss-blade were all back and on her. She checked her hair--still light-brown and slightly wavy. She was back to herself. ...She thought.

"Etargni. 'Erses. Lo'e. Well, those are good enough fer I."

Even her unusual accent was back. She looked around for a moment, then her nose twitched a bit. She was not far from waters. In fact, not far from the Oceans. Knitting her eyebrows in confusion, she looked down to the gravel-and-dirt road.

"I know this road."

"Leading directly southbound and northbound. You are coming back from RhyDin City."

Father-Time hung out right off the road as if he was getting back on it from disappearing into the brushes for a quick moment.

"But I do not ha'e Renne beside I. I would come back if he is with I. Unle--"

Johnathan didn't even finish the word when she turned about and ran as fast as she could heading north; leaving Father-Time behind. Going north on this road led to many places, but what was at the end of this road was a place she never forgot; but neglected. Unsheathing the four-foot long criss-blade, her heart was racing and her chest was burning but she kept moving at her fastest pace.

There was wisps of smoke on the horizon. She passed by two rows of fallen and burnt trees on each side of the road that were perpendicular to her instead of parallel to her. The fallen trees were once always fully bloomed maple trees that were the unnoticed magical barrier to protect the Port-Town and the Harbour from anyone who desired harm to anything or anyone within the boundaries. But if the trees were harmed, then the barrier was gone. Johnathan screeched herself to a halt where the gravel-and-dirt road became completely gravel. Her eyes wanted to cry, but the shock was too much to take in all at once.

The Port-Town. The Harbour. Her home. A place that there was once of laughter, business and living was now another town that raiders and brigands took over and disposed of. The one thing she promised the Towns-Folk that would never happen ever again did.

History repeated itself.
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