Nightly strolls could never be overdosed on.

A moon's serenade never got old. It was too pure, and too constant to ever be boring. It was inescapable. As if any music-lover would want to. This music lover was no different.

The only difference? She was also a music maker. A walking jukebox. Her assortment was her own creation. All of them were hers. She had enough to have album after album shining in platinum. They didn't dedicate a hall of fame to her for nothing. Truly, a titan now reduced to..a moonlight stroller.

Sure, a stroller that was engaged. And with a new cat. But the cat was in bed at home. And the Drummer was doing a show. Chase was never one to step on toes she didn't want to step on. She knew the moves all too well.

Dreadlocked, feather braided, and rainbow, her hair was it's own perfect mess. A sexy assortment that was given no name. No name other than the head who owned the do. And that head's name was Chase.

Chase Rosewinds. Rose, to those who knew her best. Complete with thorns, velvety petals, tattoos, and...

And...the other thing. Like the moon, she too had a dark side. She considered it dark, anyway. And to make herself feel better, she downplayed that..thing to a side. Rather than a half. Or a piece. She was just a side. Another perspective.

It was nice to lie, sometimes. Comforting. It helped get the songs to flow smoother in her ears. And got her to smile more. It helped her smile when she would otherwise cry. But smiling with tears didn't count, did they?

Either way, she hadn't done much of that lately. No, things were going well. Very well. Beautifully well.

Blissfully well, even. And even then, she still had fear. Fear of the record getting scratched. Fear of the notes falling through. Fear that it would all be gone by the turn of some mirrors and puffs of smoke. She was used to that world.

And it was that world that filled her with fear. She was the daughter of a great man. A great man she had to...

Release. That's the side's job. To release. Whatever the flying hell that means. And that loose definition still haunted her.

She didn't know what she could do. And who she could do it to. Things were so loose with that. She hated that fact. It haunted her. Every now and then, she could still feel that horrible burn. In her eyes.

Even when she closed them, they still burned. She had to hide them. And she blamed those eyes for so many things. But what could she do?

It was hopeless. It stole things from her she couldn't take back. It was unfair. She can't even..

And she didn't tell Travis yet. It was silly of her to put it off for this long. Sure, she could just wait until he asked, but it would be worse. Wouldn't it?

Smiles were turned upside down once again. That subject always was the worst buzzkill. And yes, she did have a shot or two of Gold before being on her once merry way to wherever. It was only going to be a stroll.

When in doubt, walk it out. Right?

Slitted sins looked up into the skies. Simplicity always attracted the Gypsy. It just was something very elusive. Truth be told, her life was the farthest thing from simple. And how she's still standing is a miracle in itself.

Those eyes began to warm and burn moments ago. And the floor looked a little funny. As if the rain that fell was acidic, and had a sizzling smoke coming out of it. It was strange. And it had Chase constantly looking down at the floor.

But like any glance, it was just that. A glance. Sure, it was done several times in a small amount of time, but it was only a look. And it had her walk a little faster in some moments. It also had her walk slower in other moments.

There went that that feeling. It started to make her insides feel strange. Constricted. As if her spirit became its own muscle and tensed. And it was suffocating. She'd learned to cope with it, but that skill faded when a certain source decided to go on standby. She let herself slack off.

And the price was getting ringed up when she found it hard to move. Fear had its hand in it. She felt frozen. But there was a part of her who felt exactly the opposite. It basked. Enjoyed. It was a contradiction that kept her on her feet.

At least it kept her there. She grinned. When the black column of abyss decided to rise, the feeling began to subside into the background. It was adapting. That body of hers that could jump through rings of fire was kicking in for the benefits. And it was nice to regain control.

So, taking that 360 within minutes, she was looking to the darkness as if it were an overconfident punk in desperate need of humility.

She treated it as the such. She didn't know who she was dealing with. Yet.

Crossing her arms, her hip went to one side as weight shifted. Upnodding, she smiled. The blackness of her hair and the black leather of everything she wore was all she saw. It was setting in, slowly.

"Something I can help you with?"

That question turned into a bullet shot into the golden endlessness of her eyes. She knew those eyes. She knew that pretty, false face. She knew that hair. And those obnoxious stilettos.

She hadn't seen her in ages. In a way, she began to think she was gone for good at last.

Like any good hope, she was tragically mistaken. And if she knew Janelle any better, the tragedy would only get worse.

Those licked lips prompted something she wished she had forgotten. It made her eyes burn like alcohol that was mixed with lemon. And salt, for flavor.

It was a mixture added on site. And those eyes seemed to swirl in the burn. Wincing, she remained in control by a thread of some sort of luck. Or maybe, she had been getting the hang of it.

No words would come so easily. The burning of her eyes began to deafen her. And she felt herself drifting away into that same ocean current that took her into three adulteries. And more devastation.

Yet, she had to say something. It had to be done. Something needed to come out of her mouth. Perhaps it was like a ransom note.

Whatever it was, it was falling out of her lips.

"Janelle..."

The false fondness of that voice had her blood boil. Not a good thing. Health risks aside, it was only increasing the size of the invitation for the..

Was that the plan? To bring her out? It was her fault that it even broke through the seals in the first place. Things were perfectly fine before she came along. Now? She was reminded how little of a human she was everyday.

It was true. She did feel more and more of herself slip away. The other was winning. Completely. But right now? Chase still had the wheel. The anger burning there was making that interval of time slimmer and slimmer. Atalanta told her to be calm. It feasted on emotion. It had none of its own.

"Oh, I'm sure you did. Fxcking parasite. Nothing but a vacuum for everything around you. You take, take, take. All you give is misery. Go away, Janelle. I can't stomach the sight of you."

If any more lies were to join that conga line, a waterfall of lightning would crush her in an instant. Now, the miracle of making electricity similar to water was not her number to be concerned with. So, she didn't concern herself with the fuss of even having such a thing arranged.

With enough lies, punishment could purchase just about anything. If Chase had faith in anything, it was that.

Yet, she couldn't stop. The anger. It kept...flowing. It was like vomiting. Once you started, you didn't stop until there was nothing left. There were lulls to look forward to. But other than that, it was only a matter of time.

"You and that god damned smile. Smiling your way to hell and back. How was your little vacation? Did you enjoy ruining other people's lives? I never understood your job. Are you influence? The whisper in someone's ear that makes them do what you want them to? No. Wait. I'm wrong. Since the first time I saw your funeral walking axs come into my life, all you do is make me..burn."

She suddenly felt violated. Like something was browsing through cue cards, information, and images that were placed in the forbidden section of her mind. Flipping through, reading captions, skimming to find the punchlines of her own darkest secrets. She could feel it.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who was the culprit. It was standing right in front of her. Those golden eyes were cutting into her. Filling her. Penetrating her in the most personal way.

The presence looking through her was so overwhelming, her spiritual sensitivities had her sway dangerously. Balance was losing its presence in Chase's present.

In only moments of being within a few feet of her, she was hugging the nearest wall. Not before walking a lonely, crooked waltz to it. Clutching the bricks and blocks of the network, she closed her eyes tightly.

It inwardly amazed her that her eyelids weren't burning into ashes.

"Stop. Janelle...Stop. Leave. W-What do you want?"

Way to cut into business. She was losing it. And losing it fast. But she had experience with this. She could drag this out for as long as she needed to.

At least Janelle had a way with being brief.

"I'm NOT a faker."

The fires inside were turning white with heat. In her eyes, the very rims around the pupil were turning white. They looked similar to almond-shaped pieces of paper with a vertical abyssal tear in the center.

Burning. Her eyes were burning. She wasn't an infernal. She didn't call the depths of hell home at the end of the day.

Sails born of fire were spiraling in deadly circles within her. She was losing it. Slowly, she was losing.

And then the message hit her. Eyes went wide.

"H-how...Wha-wh..." Words kept failing.

The songbird found a flat note. A titan of music found herself mute. She found the failure to create beyond frightening.

What was more frightening was how the hell Janelle knew she couldn't...

It hurt her. The thought couldn't complete itself in her mind. When with Quel, she couldn't even tell him. As far as he knew, it was a false alarm.

Truthfully, there was no alarm to sound off.

The wall she hugged was no more. She had slid down to the ground against it. Weakly, she was messily sitting on the ground, looking up to Evil's damned messenger.

Was she a messenger? She didn't give a damn what she was anymore. Castles with shriveled bricks sat in her heart.

"How..? What..What do you want from me..? I need answers, Funeral."

No more small talks. No more cowardice. She was raw, now. And the mixtures of grief and anger had her on the brink of self forget. She was close. But now was the eye of the storm. A strange, deadly calm.

Now, for the first time in several months, she was listening. Listening as if the very future of tomorrow was at stake.

It wasn't that extreme at all. But the Midian happened to have pressed a button that had her engaged in more ways than the band around her left ring finger.

Chase's white eyes of devilry were up. Looking up to Janelle's golden ones. The beautiful contradiction of the glow in her eyes was equally attention-grabbing and enthralling.

Under different circumstances, if she didn't reject the Avatar, they would make valuable partners.

Tears may as well have been steam. But they weren't. In the world within her she chose to ignore, physics was something often ignored.

The Gypsy was weak to Her. The burn was becoming suffocating. It was unbearable. Ringed digits sought to kills as they became a deadly cage across her face. It was a vicious clinch.

It wouldn?t go away. It kept burning. Indian burn after Indian burn scorched every artery, skin cell, and heart beat. The heart, that was the epicenter. Was that where She hid?

Feelings were flammable. And ideas were detonators. Every trigger finger was ready to squeeze. It was devastating. She knew the future. And she hated that it was beyond what any crystal ball would project.

"Stop.. Stop.." There was no seal of approval to be embedded. Molten was poured onto the flap of the pretty white envelope.

Chase wasn't the authentication anymore.

One could fry an egg on Chase?s skin. Distortions of heat mutated the air in fluctuations.

The plan was beautiful. And so was She. The fires kept growing.

Tightening, inflaming, and smothering. All the while, mourned. Even with her dilemma, she had given way to temptation, yet again. She couldn't deny who she was. Who she is. And who she forever will be.

Yielding even the slightest was the end of her. And so, the beginning of the end was at hand. Despite her tears, the saline would never be enough to extinguish the inferno.

The Darkness. It harbored heat. Absorbed it. They were delightful friends.

Yet, her fianc?e' was still in mind. Travis....

The love of her life was the question and the answer. The beginning and the end. He was everything. Always has been everything.

He was worth everything. Worth dying for. Worth killing for. Worth..switching for. That was the answer. They Both knew the answer.

And the answer was the choice.

"For you, Travis. I'll be what you want.."

It was too late. The seal sank in to imprint. And as it dried whole, she gave in. Fingers peeled from her dampened skin, black fingernails shining in the ominous moonlight. Had the Moon tricked her?

No. A trickster couldn't blame the tricks on another. That was the rule.

?I love you, Trav..?

Suddenly, moments later, there was another. Not just any other. THE other.

The quivers of sobs and grief dissipated like a heavy fog smite by a breeze. She was never the Breeze. Not the wind, nor the sun. Nor the Earth, nor the Flame. She was none of those things.

She was the activation. The Beginning. And The End.

Rising her head, the weakness was gone. She wasn't weakness, either.

"Speak."

The air was crisp, and it filled tar-ridden lungs like a sloppily empty jar of jelly with wind being cycloned into it. His lungs weren't what they used to be. All those fags made sure of that. It wasn't as cool to be a chimney anymore. Wasn't as convenient, either. Still, he didn't mind. He was with the Girl of his Dreams. The Girl of any heterosexual bloke's dreams.

There had been spots of bother in the past, but they were all turning into humorous raindrops that dripped. They were all beneath his feet now. Travis was walking tall. He was going to be a married man. Permanently off the market.

And he couldn't be happier.

Brown licks of hair were combed to shadow his cheekbones. Shadowed, it was as if the palm fronds of a tree had shadowed over his face. Emerald eyes were filled with Luck. He thanked Keith for that. Whenever his eyes reminded him how lucky was.

He was finally lucky again. No. He was blessed.

She was his. And he was hers. But he was hers for nearly a decade. And not once did he complain. She always belonged to someone else. And even with the years in between them, between all the women and lovers that they've both had since each other...

His heart belonged to her. And now, he was sure that she was his.

He was roaming tonight in hopes of finding her. She wasn't working. And he could tell she had been home recently. The Goldschlager was left out. She always forgot to put her liquor back in its respective place. Then again, so did he. He loved her. And with his ring, he multiplied. Finally, he had the chance to surrender to her.

Their wedding was going to be huge. They both wanted that. They wanted the whole world to know that they were going to spend their lives together. And hopefully, they'd have some goofy ankle biters to show for it.

He had just left the Inn. She wasn't there, either. That damn cat of hers will start complaining if she didn't show up soon. He wasn't about to go back to the flat and listen to that whining until he could make love to her. He wanted to see her. For some reason, he had a feeling. It told him to go find her. To bring her back home.

He loved that feeling. It was just another gem to add to his treasury. It was the jewel of his love for her. It never faded. And like a diamond, it would be forever.

Pretty stones aside, he was searching for her. Just happening by every alley, every street. She had to be here somewhere.

Echoing angels had him smile at the sky. He'd find her soon. And he'd take her home. Kiss her, hold her, and be the Husband he was meant to be.

The drumsticks in his back pocket fit him like a glove. Since he was only moving his heels, he pulled a single wooden rod out from its beauty sleep. Fingers riddled with age-old calluses brought motion to the sticks, making them spin in his fingertips as he walked.

A glance here, and a glance there. Nothing. He had to be patient with his Gypsy. The things knew no law. And he loved her anyway. It was true.

He'd felt this way for years.

Finally, there was a breakthrough. He couldn't miss those colors if he bet his life on it.

Brightening, a broad grin came upon his face. There she was. And with the saunter trademark of the world Down Under, he was heading for her.

He squinted as a black blob came to view. Was that a shadow?

No, he saw black hair. And hands. That was Rhy'Din for you. And Chase seemed to attract Rhy'Din's finest.

A grand smile was upon Her face. Respect was given, and taken with expectance. It was refreshing to be offered homage. After being neglected for so long, it was well deserved. It was about time she was addressed proper. The Darkness, this little piece of madness, was wise.

She hadn?t surfed in so long. It really had been too long. Yet, this Child had done well. In some ways, she had achieved the exoticism desired of her dominated area of expertise. The child had done well in achieving the ideal of freedom. Even in her youth, the beginning was constructed perfectly. Turbulence, lack of stability, and success to spite the insecurity. It was constructed with Her in mind. The Child was privileged, as much as she vindictively believed the opposite. She was young, and it was to be expected.

Soon, they would make a fine team. Possession would turn into co-existence. The Child would learn. Tonight, her choice was the first step. It was in her will that she was here. That she was able to move limb and tongue before this piece of darkness. She knew what to do. It was going to be troublesome, but she needed a superior to consult. No simple agent would do. There was a grander scheme she needed knowledge of.

Looking down at the kneeled piece of darkness, she was distracted when the thing snarled at the approaching individual. Oh, him. She remembered him. She remembered him all too well. The Child was in love with him. A long, long time. It was impressive. The two did possess a love worthy of note. However, there was no Child to appease or humor tonight.

Not anymore.

Still, she had to get him out of the way. This was not his time. And time that solely belonged to Her was a time more valuable than his with the Child. They would have to wait. However, he approached very fast. The man wanted his betrothed home for further bed warming. She would not have it. Not tonight. That was delectable for her own satiation, but now were bigger things to consider. She had a visit to commence with.

And The Child was obedient. Usually, she would struggle and only burn herself. Tonight, she knew better. Her choice was for him. Their love was admirable. But that was not for tonight. This was not the Child?s time.

?Stay out of this, boy.?

A true siren was speaking. A figure of pure decadence that knew centuries. Their voices were the same, but different. The same chords were at work, but made a different tone. One could tell that the supposed Coin had been tossed. And it landed on Her side, rather than the Child?s.

There. The switch. Division.

Shadows watch with glee.

Fall. Rise. Death. Life. Everything.

"Go away. Now is not the time.."

Disingenuous.

Too much? Never.

It was never enough. Young. Strong. Talent. Talent. Blatant. That temper. Potential.

Interest. A smile.

Shadows are renewed.

Greed. Sins.

Those eyes. Green. Emerald. Jewels. Pretty. So pretty.

Still low. A look. Stare. Gaze. Blood. Fire.

"You want to leave."

Last chance. Temptation. So young.. Alive. Pure.

Resilient. Vivivacious.

He could be useful.