Comrade Duck

Who is the strongest member of Phoenix Squadron in your opinion and why is it Chopper?

It's Morbin' Time

The Life of Thieves As Olivander continued his acrobatics act, he saw the forest begin to thin. He bounced from tree to tree and could see a clearing ahead of him. He could anticipate one of two things: either the entire clearing was a trap, or Joy was waiting on them. He should have assumed it was both. As he approached the clearing, Olivander sprung higher into the air so that be broke the treeline from high above, potentially avoiding any final traps. As he did so, his eyes landed directly on Joy with a spear in her hands. He landed with a roll, making himself intangible once more as he stood. His eyes darted left and right, searching for any potential traps he missed. Excluding the dull sound of trees crashing behind him--which Olivander believed to be Kitt--there was only silence. Joy had a ring of oddly shaped light around her. It almost appeared to be smoke at first glance. The way it was shaped put him on edge. Between that and the girth of Joy's spear, Olivander would have a hard time approaching her. Even if he was intangible, he would have to make himself vulnerable at close range in order to kill her. He would have to get inside her striking range, and inside of the ring. Because this was a fight to the death, there was no doubt that the ring was dangerous to him. And Olivander had more to consider. Was Joy able to freely control the circumference of the ring? Could she close it or expand it at will? Could she make it change shape? If Joy was able to control light, there was no telling what she could do once he was inside the ring. Olivander took a long breath and sighed, trying to collect himself. Hinder had already given him his blessing. Even if he died here, if it meant people were free from corruption, his death would be worth it. He couldn't fear death now. He had to be willing to lose everything. He drew his dagger again and entered a fighting stance. He minimized his profile by placing a leg in front of him and a leg behind him, bending his knees. Be brought up his dagger to his cheek and guarded his face. "You won't leave this clearing alive," Olivander declared. He waited for Joy to move. If he acted without Kitt, it could present complications. He was biding his time for now.

Mirage As the dagger glanced off of Joy's shoulder, Olivander cursed under his breath. He failed to finish the job. Joy made to escape, and he and Kitt gave chase. Olivander made himself intangible once more and darted after Joy. Rage, confusion, sadness, and frustration filled the shores of his head as the waves of emotion crashed back and forth in his mind. "Joy!" he belted out as he pursued her. "See if you can cut her off! I'll keep after her the best I can!" Olivander heard Kitt call behind him and quickly glanced over his shoulder. As he did so, he saw Kitt had been struck by light. Gritting his teeth, Olivander understood that Kitt would be entranced for a short time, thanks to Joy's abilities. He had to avoid her holy light at all costs. He couldn't afford to make that mistake. He continued following Joy into a line of trees that suddenly became thick with brush. He suddenly stopped in his tracks when he realized he couldn't see the ground at his feet. He raised his head to examine where Joy had gone, but in that brief moment, he lost sight of her. He was hesitating. "Fuck," he growled. "Joy! JOY!!" he screamed into the distance after her. He knew she would not respond. He had no choice but to follow her into her own territory. This wouldn't be the first time he actively walked into a trap. Keeping his intangibility active, Olivander sprinted at full speed into the line of trees and shade, into whatever trap she may have in wait. As he ran, Olivander listened intently for Joy's footsteps. He listened for anything that might give away her location, but his ears were filled with the sound of sweet laughter. The trees around him swayed and bobbed, despite there being no wind present. Olivander paused once more, unsure if he had been put into a trance without realizing it. Had entering the tree line put a spell on him? Was he hallucinating? As the trees shook, their leaves floated gently to the ground, capturing Olivander's attention as he stood beneath the canopy of shade. The leaves gently fell into a bundle of light in the grass, and the result was a violent eruption of light. This made Olivander stagger backward, nearly stumbling into one of the light traps. His breathing became shallow and Olivander realized he was unsure about going any further. He was hesitating again. His dagger still being gripped tightly, Olivander looked around, but could not see the way he came in. Instead, he made a last second decision and ran straight at the tree ahead of him, dropping his intangibility entirely as he leaped at it. He barely avoided the light trap below and came into contact with a branch above, where he held on for dear life. Pulling himself up, Olivander balanced on the branch, surprised it could hold him. Now above the ground, Olivander noticed that the traps below had been placed almost in a line. It looked as though she had gone from tree to tree, littering the ground with traps, knowing that they had no choice except to follow her. Olivander raised his head again and balanced himself, finding secure footing before leaping to the next trapped tree. If he continued on this path, he would surely find Joy. He picked up his pace, leaping from tree to tree like a panther. On the opposite side, it would seem Kitt had awoken. Olivander could hear trees being felled. "So he's taking a more direct approach. Then I'll take the high road." Olivander kept charging ahead.

Of My Own Fault "And to answer your question, Hinder, these are the things I hold onto because I haven't given up. I will never." Olivander's scowl some how managed to curl further and make his face almost unrecognizable. “I knew I would have to defend my methods, though I did not know what form that might take until I saw the Swallow Tail at my docks. As soon as I did, though, I understood. I tried to convince you that there was no harm in it, but alas.” She raised her bow again. “When I asked you for your memories, I still hoped that would be the end of it. In truth, I ask it of everyone," he heard Joy say. His scowl at last began to fade. His face was blank at first, but slowly, Olivander began to smile. The more he analyzed this situation, the more he couldn't help but smile. Eventually, Olivander's smile exploded into full blown laughter. As arrows rained down around him, he continued to laugh and laugh, doubling over and gripping his stomach. When he finally was able to bring himself to control again, Olivander realized just how right Joy was. "Oh, the irony has only just come to my attention," he said aloud as he side stepped an arrow. "You sound just like me. You want to defend your convictions because of how strongly you believe in them. But the truth is, you're full of shit." Olivander side stepped another arrow and briefly glanced into the memories inside. He turned his attention back to Joy. "If you hadn't given up Joy, you wouldn't be going to these lengths to prove just how right your god has to be. You would be trying to save these people from oblivion, not feeding them lies until the world ends around them. It's practically nihilism, but only just teetering on the edge. You're so ready to give them an answer through ignorant bliss that they've found comfort in avoiding the truth. It's sad, really." Olivander folded his arms and let the daggers in his right hand clatter to the ground and turn to gold dust. "This isn't a fight. This is a waste of time. You're running from the truth because it doesn't fit your world view. And there comes a point where trying to change a person's mind is futile. So I'm going to put this dagger in your heart and then go give these people a fighting chance." With only his original dagger in hand, Olivander broke into a full sprint at Joy. He made himself intangible and he knew he could not strike Joy while doing so. He had to also get a better understanding of her power. He wasn't sure she could shoot him with an arrow while he was intagible. But, he had to get close if he wanted to kill her.

We Are But Men As Joy drew her bow and arrow, Olivander let out a soft sigh. He drew his dagger slowly, his expression changing into malice. "We all return to the ground some day," he said calmly. "I suppose you're just more eager than most. But that's fine with me," Olivander said his dagger now clenched tightly in his right hand. "You had the opportunity to do the right thing. But your pride and your god have clearly gotten in the way of that. By Hinder's hand, I'll kill you both," Olivander boldly proclaimed. He pulled from his opposite pocket the purple pouch he had not touched since he left a prayer to Hinder in Galatea. He opened the mouth of the pouch wide and plunged his hand with his dagger gripped, deep into the endless pouch. As he withdrew his hand, three additional daggers were clenched between his fingers, totaling four. He shoved the pouch back into his left pocket, then wielded two daggers in each hand. With a quick flick of his wrist, he began hurling daggers at Joy, two at a time. It was at this moment that Olivander's eyes went wide. As the daggers left his hand, his mind was flooded with memories. David. Pfeifer. They were right in the daggers' path. A horror he hadn't felt before filled his head and nearly made him belt out their names. He felt himself choke and fall to a knee, still clenching the other two daggers in his left hand. The thrown daggers clattered to the ground. Moments later, they faded into gold dust. As Olivander shook his head and examined his vision, he was now sure that David and Pfeifer were in no danger. They weren't here. But whatever that was, it felt like they were here. His malice grew, angered at the thought of one of his few happy memories nearly being shattered. This only happened because he attacked Joy. "So that's your game, is it?" he said through clenched teeth. "Is that why you wanted to know what my happiest memory was? Did you know it would come to this?" he groaned. His groans turned to growls as he demanded an answer. "Tell me! Have you already given up, so you're willing to force others to give up as well!?" He finally stood as the image faded from his mind, but the feeling did not. "Perhaps we're more connected than I perceived," Olivander thought aloud. "I'd had a dream where my heart was ripped out. Hinder said I would lose everything. Perhaps I lose it all to you." Olivander drew the pouch once more and repeated the exercise from before. He plunged his left hand into the pouch, clenching two daggers still. When he with drew his hand, four daggers were between his fingers. He returned the pouch to his pocket and clenched two daggers in his right hand, mirroring the left. "If that's what it takes to save these people, then so be it."

I'll start. Something blue and furry.

Sounds like anxiety. You get to a point where you know and want to help but you don't want to physically be involved. You're not wrong for feeling this way.

To Kill or Not to Kill "That's the question," Olivander answered to Joy. He shrugged, folding his arms. "In all honesty, Joy, I don't know if I'm here to kill you. Not yet at least," he admitted. "First, we need to have a discussion. "I take it this is your first time dealing with Nothing directly. If you were aware of what the consequences of your actions were, perhaps you wouldn't be involved," he began. "The island of Galatea had a similar problem. Worshiping Nothing. It got a lot of people killed," he said flatly. "Kitt and I spoke with our patrons. We believe the effects of worshiping Nothing is plaguing even the gods themselves. Dia's waters dried up because of it. Blasphemous prayers turned people to stone. It's something you shouldn't be meddling with." Olivander glanced quietly at Kitt but turned his attention back to Joy quickly. "I'm hoping that you'll listen to reason and drop this charade. It may be a bandage for your people but you aren't actually solving anything. As real as these... what to even call them?" he wondered aloud with a chuckle. "Perhaps illusions fits best. As real as these illusions may seem, Joy, they are just that. In the end, this will do more harm than good. And I have no desire to harm you. I would much rather persuade you." Sir William was quietly observing Olivander, Kitt, and Joy from the entrance of the Swallowtail, his feathers puffy. He was afraid. Olivander looked over his shoulder and gave Sir William a reassuring smile, which helped to settle the chicken's feelings. He turned his attention back to Joy once more, knowing full well he shouldn't have let his guard down. "Please, Joy. This has to end. For all our sakes."

The Shortest Perils "I do think, it equates itself to the world we find ourselves in now. Where it shows the true nature of humans, taking what the gods have provided without so much of a thank you or reverence to thank them for their in the process. The fact that the carts were broken down so another cycle could be something along the lines of this being a constant cycle…but I'm open to your thoughts on this vision, Olive." Olivander rubbed his chin as he pondered Kitt's vision. "I think you're onto something there," he began. "The mountain, perhaps, represents the gods themselves. Looming over the lower lying land and providing it with an abundance of resources and opportunities. Initially, the people--which, of course, seem to just be people--approach the mountain carefully and take only what they need. While doing so, they build support inside the mountain to maintain its integrity; I believe that represents prayer and offerings. Over time however, less support is built, but the mountain continues to provide what little resources it has left. That, however, is where I think our insight begins to differ." Olivander sat forward with his head in his hands, practically glaring a hole into the floor as he tried to explain himself. "The gods are mighty. Their power, from what little I know, is limitless. There's almost nothing they can't do. So, why then, would prayers or the lack thereof, hinder their ability? I can see the relation, but I don't understand why it works that way. It implies that the gods need us. But the mountain doesn't need humans. It's a mountain. It simply exists for centuries and centuries so long as man doesn't destroy it. Does that then mean that we're destroying the gods through prayer? That wouldn't make sense either," he said as he scratched his head. Olivander sighed. "One way or another, the gods are being harmed and it would seem that man is the cause. What I also believe is that the presence of the mountain being reduced to nothing is a bit on the nose. Nothing is quite literally the problem we're facing right now. In your vision, nothing stems from the greed of the people. The people are greedy for resources from the mountain. If the mountain represents the gods, then I think the grand summary would be..." Olivander took a short breath. "The prayers that are being fed to Nothing are killing the gods. And soon, Nothing will break us all down until a new cycle of gods is born again." He lied down on the floor and looked to the ceiling. "Now I wonder if we can stop this blasphemy before the gods vanish and the world crumbles."

The Longest Road When Kitt arrived and let Olivander into his room, Sir William clucked behind him. "What's wrong, Sir William?" Olivander paused to ask. "Buck. Buck-buck," Sir William clucked. "You're going to stay behind and guard the door? A brave man indeed. We're grateful for your service," Olivander said with a salute. Once he and Kitt entered the room, he shut the door behind them. "Down to business then." Olivander took a seat on the floor in front of Kitt's bed, folding his legs. "Though our conversation was brief, Lord Hinder affirmed my actions. He was in full support of whatever measures I believed to be right and just. With that in mind, I think it best for us to begin preparations." Olivander took a moment to pause again, his face slightly drooping as he felt saddened. "Kitt. If you don't feel the need to get your hands... dirty... I understand. I don't want you to violate your own morals and beliefs because of me. I can do this if need be. But I won't turn you into something you're not. You're a good man," Olivander said as he finally smiled. "Me? Not so much. I'd much rather the blood soak into my fingernails than have it stain your soul," Olivander expressed. "Of course, that's if we even need to go to such drastic measures. But rest assured, I'll respect whatever decision you make." His mind lingered on the thought of resolving their dilemma without violence. He searched and searched and searched his mind, heart and soul. Yet, Olivander could not find an answer that did not require his dagger. He kept his expression neutral, despite the awful results playing in his head. "Enough about me. These are your quarters. What do you have?" he said, gesturing to Kitt.

The Best Offense Olivander stood slowly after his prayer, allowing Hinder's words to seep deeply into his mind and heart. He smiled, feeling rejuvenated and invigorated by his lord's words. "Thank you, Hinder," he said softly. Almost immediately, Olivander's mind began to race, as he wondered who had eyes on the temple. Per his last conversation with Kitt, they would discuss their prayers aboard the Swallow Tail. Not wanting to wait around, Olivander left the temple with haste and sprinted toward the Swallow Tail. As he approached, he was greeted by a resounding "BUCKAW!" from Sir William. The chicken leapt into his arms and Olivander caught him with a warm hug. "I missed you as well, Sir William. But let's get inside, shall we? There's much to talk about." Sir William only nodded his feathery head as they climbed aboard the Swallow Tail once more. "Let's wait outside Kitt's door. I'll need you to officiate our meeting, of course," Olivander said with a wink. What Olivander didn't realize is that Sir William took his job very seriously. With a wing, he saluted Olivander as they approached Kitt's room. There, Sir William hopped down out of Olivander's arms and began pacing around Kitt's entrance, guarding the room with gusto. "Not much else to do now, my friend. We wait for our comrade."

Staggered "Olive...remind me when we get to the temple proper...that I may need to tell you something else. I suppose, if we're working together in unison on this...then I may need to bring something up..." Olivander stopped in his tracks, just behind Kitt. "No. There shouldn't be secrets between us, Kitt. Not now. Not when something so critical is happening. Whatever it is, I need you to tell me now," he requested. "If it's damaging, I'd rather we approach it together sooner than later." Kitt stopped as well, sighing heavily before glancing at Olivander. He pulled him aside and made sure it was away from people. "I'm trying to say this most likely shouldn't be spoken out in public...hence why I was waiting until we got to the temple." he sighed. "I don't think anywhere we go here will be safe. Unless we go all the way back to the Swallowtail, there's no point," Olivander said quietly. "We can't trust anyone or anything we see. So what's so urgent?" Olivander had a point, unfortunately. No where around here could be trusted and with the buildings, gods forbid they could trust any of that. He sighed and just motioned towards a small area the both knew were simply ruins. Once he did that, he sat on the ground, running his hand through his hair. "Olive, you know how the gods tend to not interfere directly in the affairs of mortals, right?" Olivander nodded. "I do. Go on." "That said..." Kitt paused, before sighing again. "Let me tell you a story my father told me...it's meaning will come in due time." He exhaled slowly, seeming to steel himself. "There once was a man...one who knew the ways of the craft from his father, and his father's father. Betrothed to him was a true work of art, one he made his wife. Between the two, they would create a true work of art: the gift of life, bestowed upon a child. Like all things, in life, tragedy struck the man and he lost both his wife and the child. Desperate, he returned to his craft, wanting nothing more than his lineage to continue...but the vessel created was unsuited for the tasks provided. Until one day...he prayed to the Forge Master to assist him. The Forge Master was bemused by this and accepted this request, creating a vessel that couldn't be rivaled, before breathing live into it..." Olivander could only stand silent as he tried to decipher the story. "... the Forge Master created a person? Is that what you're getting at? But, who are they and what do they have to do with this?" Kitt remained silent for a while, before sighing again. Forgive me Taros, but I need to speak this to him...in order for us to be triumphant against whatever may come. he thought, before looking at his companion. "I thought the same when my father told me that story...but as I grew, I was told that there was another part to it. The Forge Master created and breathed life into his created vessel under a circumstance that he presented to the man...that the creation would follow him and be his tool, a law of equivalent exchange so to speak." Kitt leaned his head against the wall behind him. "So...my father agreed." He looked at Olivander, beginning to see the look of realization on his face. "Yes...I'm the vessel Taros created...and brought to life." Olivander's face shifted from shock to satisfaction. "That explains so much," he thought aloud. "It explains why you're so forward and virtuous. You are of Lord Taros after all, quite literally. Wow, Kitt," he said with a sigh. Olivander rubbed his chin and pondered a bit. "But then, you don't think this changes our relationship do you? That I'd look to you differently because you weren't born of men?" "Truthfully, I know not what this would've changed if anything at all." Kitt admitted, only sighing again. "All I know is that Taros spoke to me of it and said that this was practically taboo...a secret to be kept away from his brethren. But...I myself, didn't want this to end up being brought forth and used as a wedge and leverage to turn us against on another." Olivander extended his hand to Kitt. "Right now, you're one of the few people I do trust." "Honestly, at this point that's all we got..." Kitt looked at Olivander's hand and immediately had his hand clasp the thief's. Olivander gladly shook Kitt's hand as they finally reached the temple. There was still a lot of investigation to do, but hopefully the god's could shed some light on Oblivion. "We'll reconvene shortly. As you speak with Lord Taros, I shall speak with Lord Hinder. Let us return to the Swallowtail to converse afterwards." The Watchdogs temporarily went their separate ways and Olivander found an altar to pray to Hinder. As he kneeled, he felt anxious. Questions rushed to him one after another, but he wasn't sure where to begin. "Lord Hinder, hear me," he said as he offered a coin to the altar before him.

Sweet potato. My grandma is the G.O.A.T. with the sweet potato pie my guy

Empty Handed While Olivia held her head low, she tried to distract herself by thinking about Virgil's guns. They were extremely appealing to the eye. They looked hefty, but looks could often be deceiving. While she wasn't sure what caliber of gun he carried, she knew they had to have some buck to them. In fact, Sharp was often impressed that Virgil managed to fire one with a single hand, considering it should've broken his wrist. But then, she too could manage up to a .50 desert eagle with one hand. That only meant that Virgil was likely a marksman for as long as she was, and had undergone a lot of practice with those two guns. She sighed hopefully as she thought about his playful, teasing words. "These lovely ladies are a one man kind of gun...but, I reckon, if the situation absolutely called fer it...then maybe I'd consider." A smirk crossed her face as she remained hopeful that she would get to fire them for herself one day. "I hate when men flirt with me like that," she joked to herself. But while she was distracted with the idea of hand-cannons, the topic of teamwork came up again and made her cringe. "We got five here...instead of lollygaggin' around with us tryin' to find a team of five, just have us here be the team of five and cut yer losses." It's not that she wasn't willing to work with a team. Rather, Sharp had a hard time not turning into a lone wolf and causing things to break apart. She had to learn how to work with a unit all over again and she was afraid of it. She was terrified of the thought that she would screw this up and cost heaven another heavy sum of losses. She gritted her teeth in anxiety, but stopped herself forcefully when she heard her teeth grinding. "Fuck!" she belted out. She slapped her hands to her face and groaned. Instead of bitching, she needed to just get her ass in gear and put in the work. "Alright. Alright, no pussyfooting around. Virgil said we have five, so there's no reason to keep looking. Why don't we just get this shit-show over with?" she faked a smile beneath her mask, hoping it didn't give away her concerns in her own capabilities.

Tough Luck The swaying and singing that Olivander observed were, while interesting, very disturbing. There was, of course, nothing wrong with swaying and singing. However, the song that they sang sent chills down his spine. Slowly, they began to place offerings into the fire. These offerings were all inanimate and didn't appear to be much other than ordinary things one might find in their bedroom or by searching their pockets. Perhaps they were personally meaningful items that each person decided to let go of in a display of respect to this ritual and whomever it serves. That, however, was another question Olivander had. Which god, exactly, was this ritual for? As his eyes met Joy's, Olivander tapped Kitt on his shoulder. "I'll be right back," he said softly. He pushed his way through the crowd as the ritual ended, making his way to stand squarely next to Joy. "There's something I still don't understand," he began right away. "Who is answering your prayer? Who is being worshipped by this ritual? Is it the island itself? Is it alive? If not, then what god are you serving that would receive this without being blasphemed?" he asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Your people are clearly invested in this," he said with a nod. "And it doesn't look like anyone is being harmed. However, I don't think this is the full picture." He shrugged as he locked his eyes on Kitt from across the room, keeping his expression neutral. "Do they know who they're praying to?" Olivander asked as he recalled the party-goers dropping their belongings into the flame. "And--wow, I'm finding more questions still," he chuckled to himself. "This flame is clearly of magical origin. How was it obtained?" He scratched his head and sighed as he remained next to Joy. "I think I've got more questions now than when this first began."

Sober Stupor When Joy returned with drinks, Olivander could only sigh. He was at least grateful that she was being direct with them. "Again, I want to stress, that all of this is something you would have found out. Nothing has been hidden from you. But I will explain anyway, of cours," Joy said. Olivander didn't necessarily agree but he didn't interrupt either. "The cost is twofold. The first is time. This party, or, more specifically, the ceremony, must be held every night, even after Andalou's restoration is complete. That, incidentally, is why I have not been traveling all around Naviim as you have; my duty is here for a good long while yet," she went on to explain. Olivander raised an eyebrow. A nightly party? That certainly killed the festivity of it in his own opinion. It was, as she said, a ceremony now. It was mandatory simply to manage the upkeep of Andalou. It seemed like one of the least stressful things one could do to save their home: throw a party. Though, when celebrations were thrown for gods for their favor, wasn't it the same thing? Again, he didn't interrupt. "The second cost, and I confess that this is the one I imagine you will take issue with, is material. The ceremony is a sacrifice, not to any particular god, but to the island itself- of the island itself. Piece by piece, we cast these things into the fire, and thus, then, we are rewarded." Joy's words rang in Olivander's ears for a moment. Something about the word 'sacrifice' made him cringe with anger. His body shivered as he almost instinctively reached for his dagger. He forced himself to jam his right hand into his pockets to keep himself composed. The last line made his stomach turn violently, flopping about like a fish out of water. It wasn't until Kitt called his name that he snapped back to reality. "... right Olive? This all sounds insane." Olivander nodded. "We're most definitely going to discuss this part about sacrifice. In great detail. Because if you're sacrificing anything beyond inanimate objects or goats and chickens, we will have a problem." Olivander thought rapidly about his next move. He wasn't ready to resort to violence. Not with another watchdog if he could avoid it. "Kitt. We should observe the rest of the party. Let it happen so we can see exactly what this sacrifice entails." "... if anything happens, we're immediately stepping in to stop it," Kitt nodded, thoroughly surprised at Olivander's levelheadedness "I suppose you're taking the lead this time." Olivander also nodded. "You have my word." He sniffed his drink and decided it was best to remain totally clear-minded for the rest of the evening. Never taking a sip, he placed the cup down and ushered Joy and Kitt forward, closer to the center of the room. "Let's observe where we cannot miss a thing."

“Now, to preempt a thought I am sure you are having, no, perhaps these structures we have built for ourselves are not ‘real’ in the truest sense of the word, but aren’t they real enough? Olive, you’ve been in both mine and Timothy’s houses and were none the wiser. Kitt, you’ve visited our temple and, if what Lauren has told me is true, commented favorably on its upkeep. Has this situation truly changed in this new light? Come, eat our food, enjoy our company, feel the warmth of the fire. Are you saying these things are not real as well?” Olivander folded his arms. She wasn't wrong. No one was suffering. People were being housed and fed. They were happy, all the while remaining willfully ignorant. He sighed as he took a step back. "So, what you're essentially saying is..." No Harm, No Foul "... the cost of rebuilding the island is the use of a word of power. What you're not telling me are the repercussions. There are always repercussions. After learning what we've learned and having the curtains peeled back, I have no reason to believe you're not still hiding something." He loosened his arms at a choking caw from Sir William. "Sorry, pal." His thoughts lingered back to the last island. The boys. Never knowing if he was right or wrong. "I need to know everything, Joy. I'm not interested in this half-arsed apologi-planation you're giving me. There is a cost. And your god clearly has a strong hold on this place. So, I need to know exactly what that cost is. Is it greater than using the word of power? And if so, then why haven't you addressed it head on?" Olivander placed Sir William on the ground but held a hand on his head for a lingering moment. "Go and return to my room aboard the Captain's ship. Take this with you," he said as he removed the loupe from his pocket and placed it in Sir William's beak. "You're to do your best to either destroy or swallow that before anyone other than the Captain, myself, or Kitt gets their hands on it. And don't cause a ruckus, understand?" Sir William gave a silent nod before scurrying away with the loupe in his beak. "Joy. I'm going to need a lot more from you. We can either talk over drinks or continue forthwith. But I'm not nearly satisfied with what you've told me." He did his best to hide the anger behind his eyes. He took slow, calm breaths as he placed his hands in his pockets, rather than on his sides like he felt he should've.