I arrived in the height of Summer.

The sun's rays beat down, heat waves rose up.

The city had been a backdrop to my dreams.

And my nightmares.

The porcelain face of a snarling dog dominated my every waking moment since my acceptance of Fate's mission.

I was to find Fate's chosen.

And I was to assist them.

For what most seem to forget about Fate is this:

It can strike at any time, anywhere.

None can hide from its endless reach.

And none can thwart its wishes for long.

Rhy'Din city's market district was like a great spiderweb, tiers connecting otherwise unknown streets and domiciles together with the promise of prosperity.

I caught glimpses, clues, breadcrumbs to follow, plucked by Fate's fingertips and scattered to the winds.

A building that held a great familiarity when I had never once laid my eyes on it.

Sights and sounds and smells; the cacophony of vendors and customers alike exchanging product for currency.

These signs I followed until I happened upon an expansive square of the market that was curiously devoid of people.

Storefronts dark, glass doors closed to the sun's heat.

My reflection moved over them as a phantom through fog, indistinguishable save for glimmers of white hair from beneath my hood.

Eyes rose and landed without hesitation on the sole figure occupying this space with me.

He sat ramrod straight upon the edge of a marble fountain.

The closer I approached, the easier I was able to hear its subtle, ambient music.

Pausing mere feet from him, I studied his appearance.

He was unique, and yet nondescript.

An easily forgotten presence, blending into the scenery as if the world were seeking to draw him back into its fold.

"I have been searching for you," I said to him.

As he turned to face me, a quiver of anticipation fluttered throughout my chest.

A mask, vicious if it were not for the likewise absurdly childlike rendering of a dog, disguised his features.

The face.

"I have been sent to find you.

"You have been chosen.

"Your journey begins..immediately."

(Thanks be given to Toby Aradam's player!)

Some time ago?

The afternoon had only begun when the girl brushed her way into Saint Agnes' kitchen. It was the routine she'd been seeing for the better part of two months, coming and going from the den of pasta making and dessert baking. She never tried her hand at helping Marlena make anything spectacular and broaden her horizons, having already surrendered to the thought that a flaming church wasn't good business ethic that raked in faith. Customary practice always lead her to a large set of fridge doors where a schedule was printed out and waiting for her. It detailed who had ordered from the church, which routes were necessary to be taken, and what specific kind of food each vendee selected. As always, Mr. Jones was at the top of the list with three loafs of bread. He never cared to order anything more concrete. Maybe he had a terrible yeast deficiency. It was a shiver-enducing thought.

It took her a moment to realize, during her perusing, that somebody was in the kitchen alongside her this day. Marlena, the resident chef, baker, cook, and all around wooden spoon wielder. Said spoons were more dangerous than a candlestick in Mrs. White's hands, especially when going after a bowl of frosting before it was fully prepared. "Hello, Marlena," she said with that glimmer of good mood dancing off the rolling tip of her tongue. "How are things today?"

The kitchen smelled like an overabundance of salted ham, butter and the ever present haze of freshly baking bread. At least three pots sat on each of the seven stoves, boiling water and bubbling sauce lending a homey ambience to the otherwise harshly barked orders and wooden spoon thwacks to the backs of her helper's head. "Did you even *read* the recipe? Fold the eggs, fold'em. Fold'em like yer father's dirty laundry!" Erica yelped and floundered to grab a 'folding' implement to help her with the task. "Yer hands, you ninny. Hands! Those funny lookin' things on the end of your arms!"

Flour exploded in a mushroom cloud into the little nun's face and Marlena sighed dejectedly. "Failure number twenty-seven. Chuck it in the salvation pile and take a fiver." The church's cook turned to face Mayu, rubbing a meaty wrist across her forehead, leaving a streak of flour behind. Erica, all too pleased to be let off the hook, made a beeline to the door with both arms sticking out.

"Horrendous. Say, you haven't given any thought to my offer, have you? Anyone's gotta be a better student than Antsy," she said, pointing the wooden spoon at the door in Erica's wake.

Maybe her question had come slightly too soon, forfeiting to a watcher's perspective as the flour turned into a destructive spray that would have set off smoke alarms two stories higher. Things were not going so well in the kitchen, as it seemed was the case almost daily. What politeness she was willing to spare to Erica shaped into a medicore smile as she hurried off.

"Ara?" She needed a moment to think through the hazy, waving lines of a flashback to a time she was given the option to be the new prot?g?. All too eager was she to decline. That stance hadn't changed, and the girl vehemently declined with a sharp shake of her head. "I do better when I use my legs than my hands. Walking's fine for me." It was the dealing with antisocial creepers like Mr. Jones that had her a little troubled about this particular path in life. Absently, she jerked the primrose shaded sheet of paper from beneath the weight that was hanging on the fridge door and returned to perusing.

At the very bottom, scratched in with a pencil instead of stencil ink was a new name. Joslin. Just Joslin. Like Madonna. Just hopefully without the ice cream cone brassiere. "Besides, I think An-- Erica does an okay job." There weren't any fires to speak of. Not since she last checked. Still engaged in a staring contest with the new name at the bottom of the page, she turned the sheet around and offered it over to the Master Kichen Artist. "Say, is this supposedto be on here?" She indicated Joslin's name with a tap-tap-tap of a finger.

"Dern shame. I remember a time when my student could cook *and* walk." Her ruddy face suddenly became ashen and she wiped her hands quickly on her apron, looking for something to busy herself with. True, she hadn't been reduced to a puddle of doughy sadness in a long time, but even the simplest mention of St. Agnes' most notable fixture in their kitchen still made her throat close and her lips tremble. She wiped away the flour monstrosity that Erica had left behind, quickly shoving together ingredients for the girl's, hopefully, success. Twenty-eighth time's the charm.

"Is what supposed to be on where? Words on paper? 'Course. That's why we call it a *list*, one that you're supposed to be taking care of." She noticed, however, that the girl was holding the paper out to her and with a quiet growl, she snatched it, adjusting invisible glasses on her wide nose. "I see nothing out of the ordinary. If it's on the list, it's on the list."

There was no sizable shift in her bewildered look when Marlena brought about a comparison to who had worked the kitchen before her. Toby had always been able to walk and cook and see to everything. He'd done it all so well, it almost gave Marlena nothing to do. The girl was quick to surmise that to being the reason she was so eager to make her pick up the mantle of saucepans. "Well... the job description only said to deliver things timely." 'Timely' was a figurative thing.

She emphasized her question with another point to Joslin's penciled name, the corners of her mouth scrunching from a lucrative frown. Names that were jotted down in pencil was new to her. The lists were always official with that bold, newsprint ink. She didn't try to hide the fact that she felt somebody might be trying to get the better of her delivery services. "Did you put that name there at the bottom?"

"Timely implies a lack of dawdling ooor questions." It seemed she kept a wooden spoon in her apron for just such an occasion, and she drew it out like Excalibur from its stone, faltering when another of said questions left the delivery girl's mouth. Confusion didn't look good on her face. "Of course I put that there, who else organizes this kitchen? Who else approves all the deliveries, who else cooks all the food when her volunteers suck so much? What's the problem?" She returned the paper to Mayu, slapping the bottom of it with the rounded edge of the spoon. "It says Joslin, can't you read? She's one of our associates, Time Worker, they call her. Like Sera, only with Time. She got in late somewhere in the last week. Can never tell what time it is when she's around, just passin' through."

The spoon didn't glint lamp light or shimmer with any majestic property. That didn't stop her from flinching as though she'd just been beaned with a wealth of sunlight after being cooped up under the ground for twenty years. A bunny's hop had her withdrawing several feet away, plucking the sheet of paper back into her possession as she did so. "Okayokayokay. I just figured somebody might've snuck in here to try and steal some of your precious cooking. It's so marvelous and delicious, after all." Compliments, she learned, always soothed the flames of irritation.

A basket was signed next to the Time Worker's name, which she saw sitting on the counter. A wicker container with a large handle, dressed in a checker white and red ensemble that seemed to be a staple for any picnic outing. Considering summer was still gracing them, it wasn't an unnatural idea.

She snagged the wicker basket by the grip and brought it down beside her, arm loosely hanging and swaying to its own momentum. "I sort of understand what Sera does. She utilizes the light in order to mend injuries. It's a very formal method of curing people." It had its limits. She learned that the extremely hard way when it came to Toby's demise. "Time Worker... I've never heard of that method before."

Flattery was one of the only ways to calm her ire, no matter if she knew what the other party was up to or not, the very act and energy expended on Marlena was never taken lightly. Besides, it wasn't so much flattery if it was the truth. And it made her feel all warm and fuzzy. She puffed out her chest, her hands balling into fists and pressed into her generous hips. The spoon was caught in one, forgotten about for the moment. "Your concern is duly noted, thank you. Why I can't tell you how many vagabonds I had to whack in my day 'cause they tried to sneak into the kitchen instead of going through the front door and waiting their turn for their share."

Marlena followed Mayu's progress to Joslin's parcel. "Don't know much about it myself, but I figure they've got to be somewhat similiar, their abilities are referred to in the same way. But Joslin works with Time instead of Light. I know she's able to heal injuries, I've seen her do it once and it was like nothin' ever happened, but I'm sure she does more. All those Congregation yahoos do more than what they seem they're capable of. You interested in joining up?"

"The Congregation. The Order," the modified woman's voice buried deep in the necklace of conflagerating fire and chittery ice commented and none too lightly. The girl quickly masked it with her own voice, albeit cracked from her startlement. "No. No. I'm just... surprised by the amount of talent is all under one roof. It seems there's an answer to almost anything. It's very awe-inspiring." Awe inspiring as it was, it was a contextual lie.

Hoisting the basket up into both her hands, she nodded a single time to Marlena. The sheet of paper was left out on top of the checkered blanket for easy reading. "I will go bring this to her now. A-Ah..." All she needed to do was skim the page to see that Joslin's room wasn't marked. "Do you know which room she's staying at?"

Marlena didn't seem to bat an eye at the unknown voice, her unkempt appearance and attitude leading to many assumptions that she heard voices like that all the time and talked to them constanty. She only arched a bushy eyebrow at Mayu, then lifted her spoon toward the ceiling. Straight up two floors, it's one of those rooms up along the catwalk. She wanders, might not be in."

That was enough of a direction for her. She'd just knock until somebody could direct her better or she found who she was after. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she bounced from house to house with the intention of finding the correct party for her delivery. "I'll be back in a little, then." Hopefully, Erica will have already flubbed up another recipe or somehow found her bearings in order to succeed in the meantime.

Without another thought, she twisted around on the heels of her boots and ambled on out into the hall. "You really shouldn't start talking like that to people who don't know you're around. It's very hard to explain you to everybody when they're caught off-guard like that. A lot of good balancing the world will do, then," she chided the necklace which dangled freely across her flat chest.

"This location is directly associated with the Congregation. They're unsavory. It's a wonder we're even here now without being forced upon."

"Unsavory as they are, the more you do that, the more trouble we're bound to get in..." While she didn't directly dislike the idea of trouble, it wasn't her place to cause it. Not here. Toby would have wanted it that way. She quickly scooted to the stairs and took them two at a time in a quick rush to the third story.

Fate. There it was again... This time, however, she didn't shy away from it or feel as though it was just a play on words. This time, she accepted it for what it was and fully intended to embrace it. "... I believe fate may have been terribly absent on the day something happened to a person that I... was close with." Her hesitance was hard to miss but impossible to catch. She pressed on with the energy of a marathon runner. "He was a boy that worked here in the church and... I spent years of my life with him. He didn't deserve what happened to him, I wasn't there to... to be there for him the one time he needed me like I always needed him. ...If there is some way, any way, to make it so that didn't happen..." She trailed off at what seemed to be an inopportune moment, but never before had that sudden silence been so adequately placed.

"It is not for any of us to judge whether or not Fate's decision was just or unjust. If She made Her decision, then it is something that we must live with." She said it evenly, her eyes level on Elisa's face, the solid black of them fathomless, like the pitfall of an abandoned well; yawning and hollow. "A boy that worked here, you say. I believe I already know of whom you speak. He was not only close to you, but the others here, wasn't he? Is this the only reason you wish for his Destiny to be altered, or is there more?"

It wasn't fair of her to claim why fate did or didn't do something, and she immediately regretted saying it the moment it left her mouth. What was already done couldn't be shifted from, however, shaking her head to convey that she'd said everything she wanted to.

What else was there beyond selfish desires? Things she had striven to stay away from?

"...No. There isn't anything else that I could hope to say. He was a good person who went through a lot of terrible things. A lot of things that others did. A lot of things that I did. I could have been there beside him and none of this would have come out the way it did. ...I want him to have a fair chance, and I want to help him have it."

For the first time during the exchange, Joslin's black eyes flashed, lit up with a sheen of moisture that made them sparkle. She wound her hand tightly around the crystal next to her stomach, the leather cord it dangled from, and turned her face away from Elisa to the window. Outside, the sky was blue and clear, without a cloud or bird. Perhaps it was too hot for either. "You care deeply for him." The pressure in her chest was intense. She lifted her fist to her breastbone. "What caused his death?" She could only assume that this was where Elisa's earlier questions had been leading.

The air was thick with remorse and guilt, palpable every time she sucked in another wave of oxygen. Without knowing where her eyes should be, they returned to the floor, studying the way her boots gleamed the dull glow of sunlight. For a split second, they resembled closed eyes, slumbering peacefully while she idled. "I... don't know," she answered truthfully. "I know that somebody got to him while he was trying to protect me. He... showed up to either see me off or stop me from going away, but I was in danger. He willingly put himself in my place to stop something from happening." Her throat became difficult, unwilling to work with her and so incredibly tight, she couldn't fathom the idea of swallowing. She ignored it. "It was the last time I saw him. I never got to thank him, or tell him anything else. All he did was yell at the person who was there with me to take me and run. And she did."

There, finally, was a bird. No, four. They flapped their small wings, gnats in the great blue sky, and were gone too soon afterward. There wasn't much else in her surroundings to focus on and she would rather not look at the girl unless she really needed to. This story was, in fact, tragic. As were so many. It didn't matter how many times she'd heard one just like it, pain barreled into her like a wrecking ball. "If he did these things, he must have known the danger. He made a choice, as we must all do in times of great need. Fate..is a hard, stern mistress. Perhaps it was--" She blinked. Never before had it been so difficult to finish a thought, much less a sentence. Suddenly bolstered by this revelation, she sat straighter on the bed. She said nothing else.

"It wasn't," she snapped back, but without it being a funnel for her anger. She was set and determined to believe that which guided Joslin, fate, didn't have a hand in what happened to Toby.

Not her Toby.

The coiling of tension eased from her shoulders and relaxed around the exposure of her thighs, finally granting her an opportunity to move fluidly. She took that time to shake off the tingling sensation that was running laps in the soles of her feet. She hadn't realized until then that she'd become so rigid, she was unknowingly hurting herself. The subject was a sour one, mournfully so. "...if you're able to do something to bring him back to me, to all of us, I would like to ask for your assistance."

"...Yes, I see it now. I see--" She could have been speaking to another entity, the way her attention was fixated on nothing at all. Her bottomless black eyes were wide, all the whites swallowed up, two globules of obsidian in a marble face. She dropped her crystal against her navel and reached up into the air, the curve of her hand graceful as if she meant to cup the cheek of an unseen face. She caressed the empty air. "Found a way, already," she murmured, briefly smiling. With her hand still raised, Joslin turned her head to Elisa. She had known that the moment she looked at this girl, she would know the answer. And she did. Fate's voice was like the tolling of a million bells, the tinkling of chimes, the banging of gongs. "There is a price to be paid, Elisa, for this to happen."

She disregarded the pit of blackness that Joslin's eyes became and focused solely on that small mouth which spoke to something or one; possibly her. Staring, she was suddenly transfixed, like she was hungering for a taste of something distant and forbidden and taboo. It only fell apart when Joslin mentioned a price to be had, snapping her squinting eyes back up. "What is it?" She already knew the power of time wouldn't come with a standard price tag. She kept her mind open and her offers to herself, focused only on what needed to be done of her. She implored Joslin to tell her straight. "Whatever it may be, it'll be worth it."

Joslin dropped her hand unceremoniously. "I have already explained," she began, feeling the tidal wave of emotion recede once she realigned herself with Fate's wishes. Periodically, her gaze flickered around the room, chasing something just out of her line of sight. "--had this event been recent, a simple procedure would be all that was needed. But this boy has died. His soul has moved onward from this plane into another, whether it be Fate's choice of reincarnation or simple afterlife." She set her feet on the floor, knees together. Both hands folded into the dip in her lap.

"What you ask is a great thing. Not only a Time Working, but a Destiny, a Fate. A Reality. To avoid this outcome again, we must decipher when and where this boy's life went horribly wrong, and rewind." She leveled her soulless gaze onto Elisa's determined one. "You will lose everything. As will he, and more. Because his existence will be dismantled and began again, your experiences together will be nothing more than obsolete and cease to be." She paused then, searching the girl's face. "You will not know of him, he will not know of you. History will be rewritten for all. There is no guarantee that you will ever meet again, or that Fate's newest path for him will not come without hardship. Is this something you are willing to accept?"

The more Joslin spoke to her about the fundamental requirements to this request, the more her face fell. She didn't fully comprehend every little thing that was said to her. What she did grasp, however, was the fact that they would suddenly be thrust into a time where neither of them knew one another. Their history together wouldn't have been. The person she was, today, would be altered drastically because he wasn't there.

Her mouth, dry from the emotional strain she was putting on herself, parted with a smack. "...wait, what? Why would... why would what happens between him and I be altered? I get that you would have to... shift time around, but... wouldn't this just be a thing where you're slipping around through time until you get him alive? Kind of like rewinding a tape in a VCR or a cassette tape?" Fairly understood, she hadn't an idea of what a cassette tape was. Compact disk was in its glory while she grew up with digital media immediately chasing it. That analogy might've overshot her own head. "I don't see how that would work. That's like saying you turning back his clock would make me suddenly go back ten years or more!" Which was a story for another day.

"Working Time is simple. It is, as you say, rather like a cassette tape. In that you can go backward and forward as many times as you like, but if the material of said tape has not changed, the outcome will be no different." She unfolded and refolded her fingers. "You would, essentially, be dooming yourself, this boy, and everyone involved with either one of you to an infinite loop of the very event you are trying to avoid.

"The material must be altered. Not only must we Work Time, but, as I said, Destiny. Erase those events which caused his life to turn from its true path. Without such outside meddling, Fate will grant him a new path. ...From your explanation, his choice must have been borne from great feeling. Deep reserves of affection, of courage, the need to protect and preserve something, or someone, he believed was worth dying for." She steepled both index fingers, and pointed them toward Elisa. "Without such events in his own life, the lives of those tied closest to him would ultimately be affected in the same way. A ripple, a refashioning of Reality and Existence."

"It is a heavy weight, Elisa, this decision you have before you." She lowered her hands once more to her lap. "The act is no less difficult than drawing breath. In your hands, this rests."

This was all well over her head. Having never experienced an event like this before, not even in her reading material, made it difficult for her to keep up. Her focus was lost back at the realization that they'd be back to a time before either of them met one another. Their lives would be altered drastically to the point that they'd likely be unrecognizable to the world at large. While she was already in that state -- and had been for several months -- it seemed like a brand new definition to the word "different".

She reclaimed her abandoned lean against the wall, crossing one leg over the other at the ankle, and pressed the toe line of one boot against the floor. It was her masterful attempt at appearing nonchalant. Unfortunately, the way her forehead crinkled with five thick hills of stress and the frown that developed killed the masquerade in its infancy. "What would that mean for me? How will this all affect me? I would lose track of him, I realize, but what else would I wind up losing...?"

Joslin's meager shoulders rose and fell. She was most comfortable with this sort of revelation, where she was the one imparting emotional weight upon another and not the other way around. She swore her spirit was like her body, flyweight and thread-like, thin, easily taxed. Like the makings of a bird, she could float and fly to wherever she wanted, whenever. But it left her without anchorage to Fate's machinations.

"...From your explanation, and the depths of your feeling, I can only assume that since he made this choice, his own care for you ran as deep, if not deeper. For you are here, and he is not, simply by his choice. He was a great fixture in your life, and if this is performed, that fixture will no longer be there. Events that had come about because of his presence or even his influence, individuals you have been in contact with for the same reason, or by proxy. Depending on where Fate decides to begin his second journey, you may in fact lose it all." She lifted her eyes from her knuckles to Elisa's feigned stance of ease.

Her stance of ease came with a heavy aura. More weighty than a thousand bricks all neatly stacked atop one another, ready to fall at the slightest breeze that brushed through the nearby window. She alternated between studying Joslin and examining the floor between where her legs met, unable to keep her attention more than several seconds. More and more, her focus was falling into tatters, a ship's sail full of holes from gunnery. "Everything. ...so you mean to say that, if I were to really want him back and among the living, not only would I lose the memories I've shared with him, but with everyone else since having met him? People like Evelyn, who I felt strongly for, Lorelei... even Saffron, who I was close to just recently?" It sounded unlikely, that everybody she'd remotely been tied to since her initial return to the city back in the year 2009 would be forgotten by the weaves of time.

Even so, Joslin didn't stutter. There was no guessing this important fact. The very moment it happened, if it happened, they would be gone to her. It clicked to her just then. She pushed herself from the wall in a panic, stumbling under the weight of gravity. "What about people like Katt?! I would lose ever knowing her, as well?" She realized Joslin didn't know a single one of these people, but it didn't matter to her. They were the important figures of her life--each of them shaping a very small part of who she was today.

"There is that possibility," Joslin agreed with a dip of her head. "If any one of these individuals was connected to this boy, if you met them because of your placement with him. Anywhere he touched, he will be erased. Your existence, Reality's perception of your own life's events will be drastically altered because the very cause of your existence in those certain places will cease to exist." She shifted in her seat. "What you must ask yourself is this, Elisa, for Fate has told me Herself that this request is something She greatly wishes to see to--but you must ask yourself..are your feelings for this injustice, for this boy worth the weight of all that you will lose? And he? How important to you is it that he be gifted a second chance at a life that you so vehemently described as unjust?" Her tone was gentle, a great contrast to Elisa's louder words.

Doubt didn't appear on her countenance when she lifted her gaze to Joslin for a split second before averting it to one side. She struggled to find the courage to meet her gaze, but it never happened no matter how hard she tried. "...when I came to this city, he was the one that I found. It was just by chance that I did, and I had to be here to keep me protected. I was supposed to go back home, but because he was here and willing to keep an eye on me, I never... I never wanted to leave.

"There were others here and there, people like Katt, who watched over me, but... but they were here because of him, too. ...I wouldn't have stayed here if it wasn't for him, because they wouldn't have stayed, either. They didn't. They haven't." She shifted to the side and moved with a lethargic pace to the window that oversaw the outskirts of the city's limits.

It seemed like forever since she just sat down and watched the skyline of Chaos' hub. It was majestic back when she found it; a wonderful escape from the mundane and the terrible that Earth had shown her since she was a child. Today -- it wasn't all that different from her home. But to forget everything... "...if what you're telling me is what'll happen, then... I will be rewound to a time I didn't know any of these people. I'll... forget everybody." With a glance, she wound her fingers around the pendant fastened to her neck. "...what about what I've become? Will that...?"

"Hmm. There are ways to prevent certain events," the voice answered her. "If you are determined to see that boy return to you, I will ensure there is minimal loss on both our parts."

Joslin followed Elisa's progress, with her eyes and ears. There was little else that she could add. The decision was out of her hands. Fate, she could feel, was like an angered bull ready to charge free of its pen and wreak havoc, or in this sense, mend a wrong. The silence dragged after the unknown voice spoke to the room. A brief crease of puzzlement marred her brow, wondering where it had come from, but she was not one to judge others speaking to voices that only they knew the origin of. "Fate has handed you this choice from the information you have given Her. She leaves this decision up to you, and I have been tasked with its execution. You need only say the words..and the rest will be left to Her. Take your time."

She wanted to laugh at the irony of Joslin's comment. There was no humor to be had in an irreversible, irreconcilable decision like this. While she appreciated everything the woman had helped her with, she couldn't rightly sit there and tell her that the people who shaped her, today, were any less important than a single boy from three years ago. Everyone had their importance to her, and she loathed the idea of losing any single one of them. Having lost Katt in her life was enough of a blow to make her feel sick in the stomach any time she saw her. That was the only other powerful figure in her life from a time when she first arrived in the world.

Now, it was gone.

It was what she clung to, the largest factor that kept her locked at an impasse. Was it worth clinging to, anymore? When she glanced back at Joslin with those squinty eyes and thin-lined mouth, she knew her answer. Katt had moved on ages ago and wanted nothing else to do with her. She didn't blame her, either. "...maybe I can do one last favor for her," she uttered under a balmy breath. She could bring somebody back that had been incredibly important to both of them, and, at the same time, finally let everything go.

With that reasoning under her belt, she nodded her head at Joslin. "...rewind us, Joslin."