A/N: This is the result of my grueling study for exams. The writing styles in medical textbooks have gone into my head too much. This was supposed to be a very short drabble about what Gabriel actually writes, but then it escalated into something more. I ended up thinking too much, practically mingling some stuff I learned from my sleep-deprived studying with the story's premise and my own perception of demon lore. Most of the stuff here you probably know already from reading DFF, but I just gave in more elaborate details. I suppose this would help answer random questions you have about the DFF universe.
Thanks to all those who reviewed my random drabble last time: MrsGooglyBear, Mermaid Monster, THE NERD KID ON THE BLOCK, Janette Bennington, and most especially to Serah, whose curiosity actually inspired me to write this piece of crappiness. This probably didn't really answer the random question you asked in your review, but I still hope it's as informative as last time. *throws pie at all your faces*
So here it goes! Join me as we enter the deep tunnel, filled with centuries of sentiments and logic that is Gabriel's brain.
The Philosophy and Physiology of Fallen Demons
(From the Journal of Gabriel Winterson)
Once upon a distant time, there was darkness, so God said: "Let there be Light." And then there was Light, the brightest of all lights, shining down from the heavens to the earth, seeping through the cracks in the crust, through the depths of the oceans, through dimensions and planes, through the clouded skies of barren Elysium, but never reached passed the deep dark abyss that lined the final frontier – never able to illuminate the rusty, creaking gates of Hell.
Born a demon, I have never seen this Light. Even though I have been through and out the borders of my dark world so many times that I lost count, and walk with the humans I used to consider as livestock. The sun had kissed my skin and the moonlight had glazed my flesh. My eyes are open enough to have light rays reflect on its surface. I could see everything the light shines upon, and yet, I could not see the Light itself. It was the curse placed upon my kind.
The Light, I state with a capital L, is more than simple illumination by electromagnetic radiation. It is Life. It is the source of which mankind maintains their humanity.
But I am a creature of Darkness. Demon. In contrast, we carry out this Darkness. A black hole to shield the eyes of man from the Light until all they see is sin and demise. Darkness is Destruction, manifesting itself in something so similar in characteristics to man yet so hideous and ugly and utterly revolting that the Darkness had to shroud it itself, sticking on our skin like an incurable growth of rotting mold. It's uncomfortable, honestly.
Born in the Darkness, with this decay already growing in skin, one usually gets used to it. Pain and punishment was a standard norm in the world I grew up, as well as blood, lust, pleasure, and death. I cannot rid of myself the power in my hands, or the urge to slaughter, to taunt, to fight, and to sin. It is what I am. It is the only thing I cannot change about me. I am a demon through and through. But the Darkness is what I cannot accept entirely.
I always wanted to see this Light.
I was different. I was very different. Father pointed this out to me always. He said I had a strange stench that he cannot quite fathom – the kind of stench that one cannot smell, but feel. He was repulsed by this, and dreaded that one day this smell of 'difference' (as he so put) would envelope me whole. To devourer me. To ruin me. My full-blooded brother, a demonling many centuries younger than I, had also been accused of carrying that same stench and was discarded into the pits where unfortunate demons are left for dead, with Father mentioning that he would not continue to spawn such oddly smelling offsprings. I suppose the only reason why I was spared from being thrown in the pits was because of my mother. Though I had heard that she was killed when my brother was born, no doubt by Father himself, probably blaming her for the 'stench' we both inherited.
I did not know what he meant about this peculiar scent of difference until I went to earth to answer a call of revenge. A small, intelligent human boy had been the trigger to this supposed stench and I allowed it to devourer me whole as my father had expected.
That little master was my undoing, because I had seen the Light that was left pure in his tainted soul, and I allowed it to continue its immaculate glow. For a creature whose main purpose was to extinguish this Light of Life to suddenly preserve it, I was punished. Stripped of my title and banished from the Darkness, I was ruined as a demon.
But I lived on as a new demon. From whence I have fallen from the Darkness, I rose back to the Light. I became a Fallen Demon.
Lucifer, my rival and my punisher, had taunted my love of the Light will eventually lead it to scorch me with its blaze into ashes, just like all the rest before me who had done the same 'mistake'. But father always said that I was different. And apparently, I learned that stench he always pointed out was not something to be repulsed about. It was something he was intimidated with. It was the reason why he shunned me. It was the reason why he wanted me dead in the pits while I was still young and weak. He had smelled my Power.
It was one of the common traits between us Fallen Demons. Our rank before our banishment was apparently close to the top of the pecking order that Hell was particularly famous for. Categorization of demons is quite different from what humans have perceived. The Royal Council of the Underworld (of which I was originally a part of) has classified simply Thirteen Circles representing the levels of power and ability of demons, the most powerful being in the highest stage, and within each of these stages, demons are further categorized by Rank numbering from 1-10 (the lower the stronger), so that there are demons who are stronger or weaker even if they fall in the same Circle. Demons are also classified based on special attributes in their blood-lines.
I had heard of Lucilla, the Deadly Nightshade, during the height of her infamy. Born from a linage of magick class-demons, she originated from a middle, yet respectable class, and rose to the ranks due to her mass murder of three hundred demons, majority included demons that had ranks higher than her in the first place. Before becoming a Fallen Demon, she was Rank 3 in the 11th Circle.
The only thing I know of Viessa is that she belonged to a clan of demons wherein all their eldest, white-haired females were heiress to the land of Elysium, Hell's Border. The ivory hair of her true form when I first saw her signifies her blood-line: a distant descendant of one of the legendary demons who fell from Heaven during the Fall of Man. However, having stemmed from that Fallen Angel's weakest branch, her original place in the hierarchy was probably somewhere in the 7th Circle, a rank enough to allow her to make contracts, but still quite at the middle class. It was probably due to her sheer determination in defeating her rival (and future mate), that allowed her to reach up the ranks. Defeating my brother, Sebastian Michaelis, better known as the Demon Crow Malphas, who was Rank 1, 10th Circle, that time, moved her up from 7th to 11th Circle, Ranking 8, that very instant. The quick rise in power garnered her fame and a new name, Persephone's Crown.
Upon coming of age, I, Marbas II, the Leo of Hell, was given a position no ordinary demon-born has ever been granted, seeing that this circle is mostly accompanied by Fallen Angels-turned-Devils and their heirs and firstborns: The 13th, with one of the Prince positions of Rank 2. On par with Lucifer himself, who solely accompanied Rank 1. The only ebony-haired demon prince, I had sat amongst his ugly seeds of forked-tongued children, spawn from different dams through either seduction or rape. It was honestly a position I found disgusting.
Having single-handedly defeated Lucifer a mere century ago, my Rank would have rose to the highest. I would have gained the dark crown. I would have been King of Hell. I would have to change my name to Lucifer II. But all of these I did not want, especially the last part. I would soon vomit out the contents of my bowels were anyone were to call me by that dunderhead's name.
These titles we were either born into, earned, or worked hard for was taken from us the very moment we turned down an order, when we broke our contracts and disobeyed our aesthetics because we allowed ourselves to be swallowed by the Light of which we were not allowed to see, and accepted what was supposed to be received only to humans, whether we accepted this unconsciously or not. Fallen Demons are considered 'dead' in Hell, except to the rare few who knew of us (which includes a minor Demon Council within the 13th Circle, and mostly the demons we hold under trial, though the latter never gets the chance to speak about us to anyone else after we're done with them). But in fact, we should have been dead a long time ago. The banishment we received included the loss of the ability to create contracts, and most importantly the ability to extract souls from humans and sustain from it. It was basically a death warrant. To die from starvation is a slow and painful punishment, especially when weakened by a demon blade plunge into a demon's only source of regenerative power: the Contract Seal.
Our continuing survival was granted by two, simple proposition I had made with Lucifer, and directly, the Council of the Underworld, in a strategy to win his favor at the same time be able to live and preserve the Light I was able to bare witness without abandoning the Darkness which compromise my whole being. In return with this contract, was the nullification of my hunger for souls, free will almost equal to humans without stripping me off my demonic abilities.
The first part of the proposal is termed the Contract Sentry. During that era, there had been many cases of other demons fighting over and stealing already contracted souls, resulting to extensive bounty huntings and large scale executions performed on those rouge demons found guilty. I had proposed to act as observer and guardian of demon-human contracts - To be the one to prevent these acts of disobedience, perform the trials and even the execution, saving Lucifer and the other higher authorities the trouble.
The second part of the proposal was finalized by the Demon King himself, which he decreed as the Order of the Fallen Demon. It basically proposed the formation of a new but unknown breed and demon blood-line that would be responsible of performing the tasks of Sentry work. This order must consist of banished demons, who have been guilty of misdemeanor in their own contracts, the refusal to consume the promised soul being the most important reason for their trial. These demons would be judge by myself, and future members of this order, and it will be up to us to see whether the banished demon must die or become fallen. Should the demon live, he/she will be granted the same soul-hunger nullification and free will. I suppose this proposal was a form of mockery on my own 'mistake', by making the failures of a demon gather and create their own hidden kingdom. Nevertheless, I agreed to this doctrine for the sake of living on. It would be the last thread that tied us to Hell.
There are demons out there who refuse consuming a soul or defy an order (thereby, breaking the contract) because they simply no longer want to or they would rather feed on another contracted soul (the latter of which must be killed immediately). Demons who kill their masters, whether intentionally or unintentionally, before the completion of their contract are trialed with either death or banishment, depending on the reason. A more recent act that would grant a demon banishment and possibility to become a Fallen Demon: The intentional destruction of their Contract Seal to liberate themselves from a contract.
There is a certain degree to which a demon could become a Fallen Demon. We are without our preference. We deem a demon a Fallen by the reason for the actions that have led him/her to such a fate. I have noticed the common characteristics between us present Fallen Demons – traits that somehow ended up as the backbone for our decisions every trial to a banished demon.
Their level of Power, as mentioned earlier, is an important attribute to their survival. The destruction of a demon's Contract Seal by a demon blade marks the end of their lives as soul-feeding creatures. This is not an easy task, as the regenerative and reservoir energy of every demon is found in their seal. Wounds inflicted by demon blades never heal, and a permanent hole where their seal once was (which is considered a vital point) would lead to energy depletion. The body will undergo a self-healing coma, but without closing the wound, energy will continue to deplete until no energy is left. The level of Power of a demon would determine his/her ability to keep alive while under his/her coma. Once total wound closure is completed by either stitching of the wound to a close or by Assisted Healing, the demon's body can return to more stable levels, and the wound will heal by itself slowly.
Assisted Healing is an ability I discovered while trying to stop the bleeding of the contract mark of the first demon I made into a Fallen. I had cut my scarred hand, where my seal used to be, accidentally with my cufflinks. The flow of my blood from my scar had mingled with the other's blood coming from their wound, and a transfer of energy occurred. Apparently, the reserve and regenerative energy located in the scarred area of our seal, which was originally reserved for contract making and soul detecting, was now rendered useless to us but can be used by others as a form of reservoir energy transfer, allowing us to share our own energy to help heightened regeneration and healing. It was a new ability that can only be performed by a Fallen Demon.
Our demonic abilities seemed to compensate along with this new change, as well as for the intentions that last link us to Hell. For instance, as a method to remain concealed per the rule that Fallen Demons must remain unknown to other demons (unless a threat on a contract is imposed), stealth skills heightened, and the ability to lower aura levels to the point of invisibility is improved. Eyesight and hearing, though already superb, seemed to have sharpened more. Teleportation, though still requiring a lot of demonic energy, was faster and more easy to summon than when we were wholly demons. The downside though is the lost of shape shifting ability. Becoming a Fallen Demon meant that you are stuck with your last human form (though I never heard any of us complaining about it), no longer able to change even the hair length and height, and no longer able to return back to our original demon form, though demonic manifestation of traits still remained: the eyes, fangs, and claws can still shift. But in a recent discovery, if concentration and control is well enough, one can transfigure into their Familiar form, if they have one. A Familiar is a lesser animal form, usually representing from one's blood line. Transfiguring was different from Shape Shifting, requiring less energy but more focus. I suppose this was possible due to our need to conceal ourselves for sentry work. We release no demonic aura when becoming a Familiar, thus it allowed for close contact to our assigned demons without being detected. Though, I don't usually reduce myself to a fat and fluffy Persian, as I tend to spit out hairballs after returning back to my original form. And the last time I did transfigure myself; my younger brother had coddled me the whole day. It was fairly creepy.
Furthermore, the transformation to become a Fallen Demon has some biological considerations. While in hibernation, the demon's body will undergo the necessary changes associated with the inability to create contracts, the inability to extract souls, and the inability to feed on souls. The demon tongue develops a sense of taste similar to humans, and the digestive system can be satisfied with human food, when before we could not. In line with the human-like function of the gastrointestinal tract, excretion and urination starts to work for the elimination of waste, though less likely than of humans. In addition, body temperature increases to more human levels, when before we barely generate body heat. Oxygen finally made contact with hemoglobin, making our once dark brick red to black colored blood into a bright scarlet. And for some still unknown mechanism, the demon heart, originally but a shriveled black unmoving muscle in our chest cavity, begins to beat.
One important aspect of the change that underwent in a Fallen Demon's body is the nullification of our hunger of souls. I had not believed that it was possible for a demon not to live without it. Even the lower to the lowest class of demons, those who fill in the large population of the 1st to 5th Circle still need to feed on human souls. Only demons leveled from Circle 6 and above can perform contracts with humans, giving them access to better and whole meals. Those occupying Circles 3, 4, and 5 are known as the servant class who follow under the rule of a higher demon, assisting them in their contracts, in return acquiring scraps of their demon-master's soulmeal. The lowest of the low, the fiendish, wild, and primitive demons of Circle 1 and 2 are found in the Hell's pits and are bound to feed on anything that moves, cannibalism common amongst them. If they had a chance to leave hell, they'd usually cause large scale messy soul huntings that would have placed great strain and overtime among the Death Gods.
Lucifer or anyone else in Hell's Council who knows of the Fallen breed has yet to tell me the mechanism of how we continue to survive without the need for souls. But I have develop a theory, backed by observations and realizations that I and my comrades have shared in our times as Sentries.
I always wondered why we have to stay and watch a demon devourer the soul of its contracter until the very last drop. The sight is already an indication that the feeding has begun, yet we seemed compelled to remain in our spot, even if the feeding is messy, long, and boring. By the time the feeding is done though, we are overwhelm by a sudden sensation of fullness – as if we were suddenly satiated even if we were not famished in the first place. If I am accompanied by another Fallen Demon while watching a feeding take place, he/she too will feel this, but not as great as when watching alone.
The First Law of Thermodynamics simply states that energy is transformed from one form to another, and that no energy is lost, but simply converted and conserved into a different form. The energy from the sun is taken up by the plants, and the energy formed from the sun by the plants are consumed by the plant eaters, that energy is further pass to livestock, preserved in another form in meat, to be eaten by humans, the energy used to keep man alive, and in the very center of man is the storage of its energy that's just waiting to be transferred. The soul is energy. And demons contribute to this Law by feeding on this energy and using it for our own survival purpose. The Second Law, however, states that every time a given amount of free energy undergoes transformation, the amount of free energy is reduced. Part of the energy is lost to whatever system is doing the transforming, part of it is lost is released in a different form: Heat.
The energy of a soul being devoured is reduced, part of it for the sustenance of the demon, part of it releases into the open, and we are magnetized to the remnants of the soul – the subtle fragments in the form of the soul's heat escaping from the dead human body and we breathe these in. As farfetched as it sounds, it's a probable explanation to our survival. In becoming Fallen Demons, we have willingly vowed that we will never eat another human soul. In this mechanism of energy transfer, we need not the soul's taste and flavor, and we need not to know how pure or tainted it is. All we need is the energy it releases to provide us sustenance.
From the body to the mind, the power, and the heart, it's quite a lot of change to undergo. But in becoming a Fallen Demon is not without its pains and sorrows. As much as I hate admitting that he was right, Lucifer did not lie when he said that the Light would scorch us. Terribly so. Each of us has gone through a suffering harsher than Hell could provide. I suppose it felt only painful because of the bits of humanity the Light allowed us to see. Being demons, we never valued life so fully and with utmost clarity before. We have never loved and lost, grieved and cried, hoped and sacrifice before we saw the Light. For acting like humans, we suffered like humans – with blood and tears. But when it all came to pass, we lived with freedom in our hands.
"A demon's joy only exists after a demon's suffering" were the words of a demoness I had once known and had the opportunity to be her sentry. I have felt a profound connection with her, as we both share something in common: We have both become undone by a young boy, whose innocence remained the last pure form of Light in their tainted hearts. I dedicate this in her memory. She would have made an excellent Fallen Demon.
Now, despite these sudden systemic changes (and apparently metaphysical changes), demonic reproductive physiology still apparently retains as is. Demonesses continue to ovulate even after becoming a Fallen Demon. The estrus cycle continue to flow in the same time length as when still wholly demonesses. Fallen Demonesses can still get pregnant any time of the year if the conditions are suitable. Most importantly, all of us are still affected by Coire Fumare, the official demon mating season that occurs before the end of every century. It is a natural occurrence and is set in every demon. All fully adult female demons will go into heat and will attract male demons unless they are already marked. The chance of making a marked demoness pregnant is the highest during this event. Having been the only male in the Order for the longest time before Sebastian came along, being surrounded by two female demons in the height of heat was never an easy thing. I was thankful though that during the time Viessa came along, her first Coire Fumare as a Fallen was spent in a coma, the second she had spent with sentry work, and the third and recent one that just passed was spent with Sebastian. Lucilla, on the other hand, had troubled me every end of each 6 centuries. The season affects enchantresses more, since they were considered lust demons. 'Temptations' have been pacified by a wager between us, but that's a story for another time –
"Eh? Why not now?"
The sudden curious voice close to his ear was startling, especially since the room had been so silent for the last few hours, save for the sound of the pen across paper as he wrote. Gabriel had almost jumped from his seat. By impulse, he shoved the pen away from his fingers and flipped the journal close with the other palm, before turning his head to the side, to the source of the voice, grimacing in irritation at the blond who was peeking by his shoulder. He was glad though that he did not attempt to elbow her, since her swollen stomach was terribly close to his arm.
Viessa tilted her head and smiled, ignoring the piercing glare the older demon was giving her. "Oh, did I startle you?" she asked in that sickly-sweet innocent way.
Gabriel sighed and grumbled at the same time, leaning away from her while sliding his closed journal to the other side of the desktop. He shut his eyes, his brows furrowing still, as he tried to calm himself. He then look up at her, and raised a maroon brow. His voice did not fail to hide his aggravation. "How long have you been looming over my shoulder?" he had to admit that he was not able to feel her at all, having been too engrossed with his work.
The amethyst-eyed female shrugged a shoulder, still smiling ear to ear. "Not too long. I just got in to deliver you tea, courtesy of your little brother." She said with a giggle in her voice, raising her hands to show the tea cup, one hand balancing the saucer and the other supporting the china by the delicate handle. The steam from the dark-colored tea raised slowly, close to his face.
"Please stop using that term. I'm not little." Gabriel's head snapped to the door, finding Sebastian leaning against the frame. How the hell did he not notice him too?
He heard the soft clinking of porcelain again the desktop's surface as Viessa settle the cup of tea down. She straightened, clasping her hands over her belly. She grinned playfully at her mate. "You're definitely not little, dear."
Sebastian rolled his eyes, smiling a slightly puckered smirk, like he was hiding back a laugh. He crossed his arms and stepped into the study.
An annoyed groan left Gabriel's throat and he sent both of them a glare, but the two remained unchallenged. He turned to Viessa, who was still standing on his right. The line of her sight was towards his leather-black covered journal.
"Did you read anything Viessa?" he almost hissed.
"Not much. I saw my name and was curious about what you wrote about me. I just took a little peek." The pregnant demon continued to smile while she shrugged once again. "But why were you writing about Coire Fumare, Gabriel?" She suddenly asked. Her question made his younger brother raise a dark brow.
He groaned softly. The older demon was never really embarrassed about anything, but he didn't like it when people peer at him while he writes, and most especially read his journal entries. His hand reached for the notebook, his large palm spread on the cover as he slipped it towards him. He crossed his arm over the journal almost protectively as he shot his eyes and frowned. "It none of your concern." He said softly, but made sure he added enough ice in his voice. "Next time, Viessa, please do not sneak up on me like that."
Sebastian was still quirking an eyebrow, glancing at Gabriel suspiciously. "You're oddly distracted today. You didn't even notice us."
"I'm not distracted," he replied quickly, his voice returning to his deep, typical monotone, "I'm just busy." He uncrossed his arms and slowly flipped his journal open once Viessa left his side and made her way towards another corner of the room. He opened it at a blank page portion though, just in case she'd decide to sneak again
Sebastian watched as Gabriel flipped through used and unused pages. Gabriel wrote on his journal almost every day, and according to his mate, he has been writing a several pages a day even before she became a Fallen Demon. There was a shelf in his study that he kept lock, as it stores all his full journals since the very first. They had suspected that he began this compulsory writing the day when he became a Fallen Demon himself, considering the large number of journal entries.
"You write about so many things Gabriel, you have to share it some time," Viessa said, trailing a finger on the lock of the shelf that sealed away all of Gabriel's deep thoughts and recollections within pen and paper. "Especially this story about you and Lucilla!"
"Someone called my name?" the Irish accented voice called from behind the door, and Gabriel was unable to contain his growl of displeasure.
The auburn haired female had just passed the hall when she heard her name. She walked backwards until she came to view at the open door. She blinked at them with inquisitive emerald eyes. At the sight of her, Viessa instantly beamed her a smile, sparing no time for Gabriel to shush her.
"Lucy, Gabriel wrote something about you."
"He did? About what?"
"Sebastian, control your mate!"
The dark haired male merely blinked, oblivious to whatever his brother had a problem with, or what his mate was trying to imply.
In response to Lucilla's question, the pale-blond nodded quickly, mischief glinting in her purple eyes as she turned to the brunette with a wide grin. In an instant, she made it from one corner of the room to being in front of her, surprising and slightly alarming Sebastian at how fast she moved despite being heavy with child.
The giddy blond clasps her hands around Lucilla's, tugging her, while she stared back at the grin in her face, her green eyes wide with surprise. "Tell me about this wager and what it has to do with Fumare…" Viessa hissed quickly in excitement.
The brunette's face remained the same, eyes blinking in confusion, until Viessa's words finally sunk in and her cheeks was suddenly flushed with a light shade of red. "Wha-…w-wager...?" Lucilla stuttered - this reaction from her actually made Viessa squeal.
The sound of a chair screeching as it was pushed back made Lucilla jump. She peaked behind Viessa to find that Gabriel had stood from his chair, an air of intimidating aura, hinting slightly of embarrassment though, was pulsing all around him. "The two of you get out of my study this instant!" He growled, his eye with the vertical scar twitching in his irritation. Viessa stepped out the door, chucking to herself, not at all fazed by Gabriel's outburst, pulling Lucilla with her to a place they can chat in private.
Gabriel fell back in his chair, sighing deeply, and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His other hand tapped on the wooden desk. His journal had slid across the table when he stood; half of it passed the edge of the desk, ready to fall with one more inch.
Sebastian was still in the room, not at all moved by his brother's air of annoyance. He allowed his brother to calm himself in silence, before he made his was to his table, his shoes barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. With his scarred left hand, he caught the journal before it could totter from the smooth edge of the table, and slowly slid it across the table, its leather cover making a rough sound as it slide through the wooden surface.
"I do wonder what you write about, brother," Sebastian said with a soft smile, withdrawing back his hand once the journal was close to Gabriel's chest, and sliding it into his pocket. "They must be very important for you to be so protective about it."
Gabriel flipped it open, landing in an unused page. He stared down at a blank sheet on his notebook, eyes soft as he trailed his finger at the smooth, yellowing sheet of paper. "Not really. Just some stuff I think about." he replied in a whisper-like voice, before turning away to glance at the window, watching the dust particles dance through the shaft of light that illuminated his pages.
The last part was partly base on my own irritation of people secretly reading what you write behind you. It's very annoying, really. Who here share's this hate!?
Anyways, that's the most information about Fallen Demons I can come up with on the spot. If you wish for answers with some other questions of fallen demons or about DFF itself, then you can ask Viessa or anyone of the fallens your questions directly. Isn't that right, Essie?
Viessa: *places hand to her heart and bows with a wide smile* I'll try my best to answer them as truthfully as possible.
There we go. You get to ask her stuff, even random ones, like…how's Sebastian in bed, sweety?
Viessa: A little rough. I sometimes have to sew the sheets back together. But overall, he's great.
And you say he's not 'little'?
Viessa: Well…he's around this bi –
Sebastian: That information is strictly confidential between the two of us.
Awwww…Sebby you ass! Well, never mind it though. I'll find out about it on my own, once I feel like writing an M. Anyways, that's all for the week. I'll keep spewing out more sweet one-shots once I get rid of the rest of the writer's block virus swimming in my brain. For now, I'm gonna get a good night sleep. I've been awake far too long for the whole week, thanks to all those horrible exams. Don't forget to review on what you think of this chapter, and if you have any questions, do type it along. Until then, have a pleasant something!
- SafireLupe, 8-9-2013