Comrade Duck

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.

Shake-Up

"That's not possible...she looks the same everyday," St. Peter replied. "I quite happen to like the aged look, myself." 

Olivia could only chuckle softly to herself. Before St. Peter could get the meeting underway, a late Tatsuo burst through the doors and made himself the center of attention. "Uh-oh," Sharp said softly. "Sera's gonna yell again." Sharp prepared herself for the ensuing eruption from Sera as she sat back in her seat.

"HEY HEY!  What's happenin' party people!  You're all way too early to this meeting!" 

Sharp desperately tried to hold in her laugh as she waved to Tatsuo, who was shooting them all with finger guns. She did like his flair.

And then, as quickly as Sharp regained her composure, Sera blew Tatsuo away. "Late!" she boomed. Despite having been ready for Sera, Sharp was still pushed back into her seat, her heart racing.

"Gets me every time," she said as massaged her ears. Finally, St. Peter was able to begin.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, S.Y.S. has been losing countless amounts of Lost Souls to Hell these days, and our number of Class 2 Soulders hasn't been this low since the foundation. Class 1 Soulders.  They're mainly pencil pushers, but they can handle Lost Souls well enough to escort them to the afterlife.  Class 2 Soulders are the ones capable of recruiting stronger lost souls to S.Y.S..  This has been your main goal since you were contracted.  Class 3 Soulders are used to fight off Hell itself."

Right. She still needed to figure out what class she was in. Definitely at least two but had she ever graduated? Sharp silently shrugged and continued to listen in.

"You Class 2's haven't been pulling your weight, and I'm getting pressure from the higher ups to run you ragged. But I don't want to do that.  I know you all work hard in your own ways, but S.Y.S. needs to step it up.  From here on out, Class 2 Soulders shall be assigned a team of 5, and are to meet a quota of recruiting 1 Lost Soul per week."

That sounded plenty doable in Sharp's head. But, a team? She hadn't really been apart of a team bigger than herself in... forever. It would push her abilities to the limit.

"Now, before I have to do it myself, I suggest you find some people you like and make a team yourself.  After reporting to me, I'll assign you your first mission by the end of the day.  DISMISSED!"

Sharp sighed as she remained seated in her chair. There were plenty of Soulders she liked, but she wasn't about to whore herself out and beg to be a part of a team. If anyone was interested in having her, she would rather be approached. Other avenues weren't her forte. The thought of trying to form a team on her own gave her shivers. She groaned softly to herself as she sank in her chair. She folded her arms as she lowered her head. "Well, shit."

Those Damn Eyes

For a brief moment, Olivander had forgotten about the truths that had so quickly unfolded before him. The party was quite festive and it lured him in. The food, the atmosphere, the alcohol, the very attractive people. Olivander was essentially shopping with his eyes. Had it not been for Joy's voice cutting through his lust-filled excitement, he probably would've been distracted until dawn.

“There is a small ceremony later, but for now, let’s dull those daggers you’ve both had in your eyes. You have questions, and I’ve put them off long enough. Speak!” Joy insisted.

Olivander sighed as he turned to face her. Her eyes sparkled and it both turned him on and made him upset. "Why did you have to be the one to rescue me, and be so cute, and have something to do with whatever the hell is going on?" he thought to himself. Olivander held the loupe up to his face to make sure the Joy he was witnessing was indeed real and not a fabrication. Surely, it was much harder to create a watchdog than the illusion of a well-standing temple. Lowering the loupe from his face and sticking it back in his pocket, he looked Joy in her eyes. "We've come to find the integrity of the temple is not as it seems," Olivander began. "Newer structures are either ragged beneath their appearance, or they don't exist at all."

Olivander gently stroked William's head as he continued. "Furthermore, it would seem that my comrade has learned that a word of power is being used rather freely and abundantly about the island. So, I guess what I would really like to know is, what role do you play in all of this? And why do the people of this island recite a word of power so nonchalantly?" He did his best to not come across as hostile or aggressive, because he was beginning to understand his own temperament in these sorts of situations.

As Sharp as Ever

Olivia's head propped up right as footsteps approached the conference room. She lazily put her head back against her hand when she realized it was Virgil. With a smile on his face, he greeted Olivia.

"Mornin' Sharp. Reckon you heard the ol' saint's message too?"

She smiled back at him. "Morning to you too, gunslinger. Couldn't help but hear the old man ringin' away for us. I'm starting to think he likes us a little too much, y'know," she joked. Her eyes always rested upon Virgil's iron. She admired his weapons. Having been a former sharpshooter and hired gun, she knew good weapons when she saw them. "So, when are you gonna let me take those beautiful weapons of yours to the range for myself? It's been, what, ten or so odd years and I can't imagine you've gone through any more than ten thousand rounds. I'd like to show those ladies a good time," she said with an eager grin.

Moments later, another Soulder entered the room, only seconds left to spare before St. Peter would grace them with his presence. This particular Soulder was Letty. No one had better eyes than she did, even if their vision was perfect.

"Good morning, my fellow Soulders," she greeted them. "It's not every day we have an emergency meeting. What could Saint Peter be so worked up about, I wonder?"

Olivia perked up at Letty's entrance. "Good morning, my dear Letty," she said with a bit of gusto. "You're as adorable as ever. I'm willing to bet that's what St. Peter is all huffy about. He knows you get cuter every day," Olivia said with a chuckle. As Olivia scanned the room now, she couldn't help but notice that some of the staff was still missing. "Hmm. Where's what's-her-face? Petey's gonna be pissed if she's late. And I'm not fishin' her out of hell."

Those Damned Eyes

"I've been meaning to get in touch with you as well...two things..." Kitt's voice was hushed. He flipped through a notebook and pointed to two words that Olivander hadn't seen or recognized. However, as his eyes lay upon those words, he realized they could only be words of power. "I heard this one about the time we came here in my dream...within a whisper. As for the second one...I've heard it twice now here on this island..."

Olivander frowned. "That's the opposite of what I was hoping you were going to say. You say you heard the first in a dream. I'm sure I have to, but I believe my mind suppressed it. So much so, that it caused me to black out from pain. When I awoke I was in the care of another watchdog. Joy. I don't supposed you've run into her yet if you've been in the temple all this time. But the second," Olivander said before a brief pause.

"If it's being spoken so casually, especially without those people using it knowing its power, then there's no telling what effects it could be having on the island. That being said, it leads me to my next point."

Chicken still in hand, Olivander drew the loupe from his trousers. "Captain Helmsley sent someone to give me this with great urgency. Before I left him, he told me something was off about the island. That it was too... new. And he was right. I'll show you what I mean if you'll follow me outside," Olivander explained. He held open the door and waited for Kitt. "Take the loupe and peer through it. Examine for yourself the lies that this very island appears to be built upon. Whatever damage is being done by those words needs to be ceased immediately."

With his back to the door, holding it open, Olivander waited for Kitt to see things for himself.

Elongated Distractions

"Ki--! Oh. Oh, hello," Olivander said with a smile. He was stopped in his tracks by a young woman who eagerly needed to get his attention.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said.

"No worries, mate. Who might you be?" he asked.

"Captain Helmsley sent me after you, said something about realizing he could help more than just sailor intuition," she replied.

"Oh, you're a member of the Swallowtail. Sorry, sorry. I should recognize you but I've been quite preoccupied. So, what did the Captain need of me?"

She handed Olivander a shiny blue tube with emerald lenses. He held it up to the light and examined its shine. He loved the way it sparkled. “I don’t know how he got this, he had it before I even joined his crew. Some of us even joke he’s had it longer than we’ve been alive. But I’m going to guess it was a gift from some passenger or other, and we’ve seen him use it occasionally, but mostly he’s just kept it around."

Olivander balanced the tube in his hands as he observed it with wonder, only mutterring, "I see," to the woman before him.

And he told me to tell you this: He said it’s useful for taking a clearer look at things. And he also said to apologize for threatening to throw your chicken overboard." Then, without another word, she sprinted away, likely back toward the Swallowtail.

"Hmm. This is an interesting piece. Wouldn't you say, William?" Olivander mused.

"Buck, buck," William nodded.

"I wonder exactly what he had in mind when he sent me this. What should I be looking for through this... looking glass?" Olivander said as he held it up to his eye. He first took a look around the sky and could only see an emerald tinted cloud. He lowered the glass from his eye and thought nothing of it. He took a look around the immediate area and his eyes landed on the temple in the distance. Raising the tube to his eye, Olivander took a closer look at the temple.

"Wha--" he found himself suddenly short of breath. Lowering the loupe from his face, Olivander rubbed his eyes. He blinked several times before raising the loupe to his eye again. "I don't-- what is this?" he thought aloud. Olivander shifted his gaze from the temple and down to the immediate structures around him. "There's no way. There's no fucking way this is real," Olivander said in total disbelief.

"Why? Why is everything in ruins? What the hell is going on!?" he belted out.

"Caw?" William asked nervously.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I didn't mean to alarm you. I can't really express to you what I'm seeing. But I can tell you that Helmsley was right. Something is very wrong with this island. And I think I'll need more than Kitt's help. I need to go to the temple. I need to pray to Hinder. We'll need a blessing." Olivander sprinted inside the temple and began searching for Hinder's altar. First, however his eyes landed on the back of Kitt's head. "Oh, good," he said as he entered into the temple. "You're here. We need to talk. Now."

Blood on the Floor

Sharp sipped her coffee slowly this morning. She liked it with a bit of cream and sugar, but carefully determined portions. Too much and her coffee became weak. Too little, and it reminded her of swallowing molten metal. When the proportions were just right, it was perfect. After the first long, satisfying sip, she nodded and sat the porcelain mug down gently on the table in front of her. She sighed and quickly slid a coaster underneath the mug; she wasn't a barbarian after all. Headphones blared in her ears, and a simple but funky bass tab made her tap her foot on the floor as she softly sang along to the words of the song.

"... sitting here, knowing this ain't real," she recited. Despite the volume in her headphones, a piercing shriek rang out of the intercoms throughout Soulder HQ and disturbed what little peace she was able to observe. She paused her music right away and disconnected her headphones as a familiar voice came over the speakers.

"Attention all available S.Y.S. Soulders of Class 2 and higher!  Please assemble in the main conference room on floor 99.  We will be having a mandatory emergency meeting in the next 30 minutes."

Another sigh escaped her. Sharp didn't keep track of her Class ranking, but she remembered being at least a class 2 the last time she checked some four thousand days ago. That was the last time she had been interested in it at least. She made a mental note to inquire about her ranking and how to move up as soon as she had the opportunity. She wondered if there were available perks to climbing the ranks. She shrugged away the irritation as the sounds of ringing phones filled her ears now. "Fuck's sake," she groaned. "What is going on down there?"

She left the break-room as silently as she entered it and shut the door behind her. As she reached the service elevator and pressed the "up" indicator, she wondered if hell was literally breaking loose. A gentle ding was almost unnoticeable next to the buzzing of the phones of HQ. Two metallic doors separated and let Sharp inside, closing behind her. She directed the elevator to floor 99 where the conference room was located. Thankfully, any understanding of the passage of time she had while in HQ was skewed, because she arrived in what seemed like an instant. Sharp stepped out of the elevator and headed directly to the conference room. She took a seat toward the end of the conference table, but not quite at its foot. Leaning against the table and propping her head up with one arm, Sharp waited dutifully for the others.

"What've you got for me today, Saint Peter?" she asked aloud to no-one.

Flown the Coop

Olivander barely made out the odds and ends of Joy and Timothy's words as he vanished. He was keeping his invitation list to two people, since Joy had requested that the party be small. The most important guest on his list was of course, Willie. Though, as Olivander raced toward the Swallowtail he had begun to think of new names for Willie. "I wonder if he thinks his name to be too casual? Perhaps, he is deserving of something more formal," he thought aloud as he ran. "Of course! It's only fitting that, for a fancy party, my guest of honor be given a fancy name. And I've got just the name!"

Landing at the docks minutes later, Olivander was surprised to be greeted by Captain Helmsley. He was holding Willie snugly in his arms; the latter of whom was quite fussy.

“Think he was calling for you,” Captain Helmsley said with a bit of gruff in his voice. “Was making quite a ruckus. I need you to understand, pets of any kind -- and I've seen all kinds -- are alright on board, but ruckuses are not. Forgive me if I'm speaking out of place, but it is my ship.”

Olivander accepted Willie's hand off gracefully. "Thank you, Captain. I apologize for any trouble Willie -- er, Sir William the First as of now -- may have caused you. You are absolutely right. That is your ship, and it deserves respect and dignity. I'll give him a stern talking to before we board again. You've been good to us. I mean you no disrespect or harm, of course."

Captain Helmsley seemed to take kindly to Olivander's words, which made the watchdog happy. Of the few people Olivander tolerated, Helmsley was one of them. Though he may not have outwardly expressed it, Olivander had a deep appreciation and admiration for Helmsley. He was a man that Olivander would gladly brag about to Hinder. After a moment, however, Helmsley stopped and turned around.

“I suppose I’m frustrated too. That’s part of it. This island is…” Helmsley shook his head as he spoke. “Maybe this is just misguided intuition, but I feel I’ve heard things I should not have heard, and even besides that, there’s a weird energy about the place. It’s too new, that’s the thing, I think. I recognize there are all the old, dilapidated buildings, of course, but the ones people are using, that they’re living in, they shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be like this.”

Olivander hadn't been paying much attention at all, had he? He was so caught up in his own frantic behavior that he neglected to notice anything off about the island at all. Now that Helmsley brought it to his attention, Olivander recalled he ruins he and Joy went through to get to Timothy. What had happened here? His face scrunched and his mood soured a bit. He had to focus. For now, he elected to maintain a party-ready facade so that others wouldn't catch onto his misgivings.

Helmsley shrugged. “Again, that’s just my opinion, one that very easily could be wrong. But I would still advise you to be careful. Bad things inevitably happen at the end of the world.”

Olivander nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Captain. Thank you for keeping me on my toes. I'll keep an eye out." He turned back towards the town and began his conversation with Willie. "And as for you, Sir William the First, the grandest cock there is," he said wagging a finger. "What's all the trouble, mate?"

"Caw caw caw caw caw caw," William replied.

"Well yes, but there is a time and place for that," Olivander answered.

"Caw caw caw!" William snapped.

"Hey! I would never let anything happen to you. I've come to love you, my friend. You've a special place in my heart," Olivander said with a smile. "I think I'll even introduce you to Hinder."

"Buck-caw!?" William asked excitedly.

"The very same," Olivander answered. "He's a funny god, actually. I'll have to regale you with some of our shared stories sometime. But right now, I need to find my dear companion. When's the last time you saw Kitt?"

"Caw caw caw," William said with a feathery shrug.

"Mm, I see. I guess we'll just have to being calling for him at the top of our lungs until he eventually stumbles drunkenly out of some parlor wondering what the devil is going on," Olivander joked. "Kidding," he said as he saw William's face scrunch up. "About the drinking part. Kitt's a straight-arrow, you know. The occasional glass of wine or mug of beer, sure I'd believe it. But a drunkard? Never. I may not see eye to eye with him but I recognize the quality of person he is. He's a much more patient man than I."

"Caw caw caw," William said sassily.

"Hey! Who's side are you on!?" Olivander snapped back.

William turned his head to the sky, hiding a cheeky laugh.

"I'll deal with you later. Let's find Kitt," Olivander said. "Kitt, ol' boy!" he began yelling into the streets. "Where are you!?" Olivander had not idea where to even begin looking for the boy.

Party Up

“No fireworks,” Olivander heard Timothy say. That had almost dampened his mood. Fortunately, Olivander was still looking forward to the party itself so his spirits didn't sink right away.

"Well, shoot," Olivander said with a shrug. "That's unfortunate, but we'll have to make do without them I suppose."

“Now, I suppose we should probably go off to the temple, start inviting people, and, well, see what the rest of the day has in store for us," Joy spoke up.

Olivander perked up once more and approached the door and held it open with a grin. "Then let us do the do. We'll throw the fanciest party this island has ever seen. I'm already creating a list of necessities in my head. We'll need beer and wine. Those are a pivotal part of any good party," he said as he nodded to himself. "Then, we'll need the best food from the best cooks. Pheasant, goat, bass-- oh! Oh, I almost forgot! I'll have to invite an important guest. My dear Willie! If I find the cooks on the Swallow Tail have turned him into lunch, I'll unleash my wrath on that kitchen," he suddenly said with a scowl.

After Joy had passed the doorway, Olivander stepped ahead of her. "I'll meet you back at the temple. I've got to check on Willie. See you soon, Lady Joy!" Olivander said as he turned into a blur and raced away to the Swallow Tail.

You can't do shit. We're living in a world where conspiracy theories are accepted over the words of scientists and desperate times headbutt with complacency and greed. We're going to be living with COVID for the foreseeable future. You may as well get comfy.

I did a little bit of shopping for myself and picked up a nice Michael Kors watch for myself for special occasions. I also got a slightly less expensive Guess watch for those other occasions where I just kinda wanna flex a lil bit. Got some sexy cologne for myself and some perfume for my lady. I also took her shopping and got her a new bag and some threads.. My folks gave me 400 in cash, a beautiful card, and a dope ass emergency lantern. It's like 300 lumens. Fuckin thing is brighter than my future.

Is that a Packer's jersey? Bad dog >:/

Unnecessary

Olivander enjoyed the way Joy pulled him around. The way she took control was not usual for him, but he liked it. Though it was gentle and only served to bring them to another destination, something about having his wrist held and being led by this woman's will made his loins tingle. He smirked silently but quickly perished the thoughts that tried to creep up on him as they passed through the ruins of what was old Andalou. When they had finished their brief journey, Kelly, Joy, and Olivander arrived at a building that appeared quite similar to Joy's.

Inside, someone was observing a sketch but was not oblivious to their new company. This must have been Timothy that Kelly spoke of earlier. “Hullo Joy and… similarly honored guest, I’m sure," he said.

As the presume owner of the home turned around, Olivander offered a wave as a greeting before he spoke. "It is an honor, yes. Thank you," he said, trying to be courteous.

Then, it was right down to business.

“The damages to the shelter roof were minimal this time, so that part’s not going to be a problem. They’re not ideal, but it’s not a problem. My bigger problem is, to be blunt, I’m not sure it’s working. Parts of it, sure, and those parts we can keep, but, for example, fireworks? The spectacle is running a little thin, especially when there isn’t anything being celebrated most of the time."

"Fireworks? Oh, yeah. There were fireworks when we arrived. Almost killed us all. Would've been quite a way to go," Olivander thought silently to himself. He smirked again. "... out with a bang," he went on thinking, stifling a laugh at his own ridiculous joke.

“We’re celebrating life. And in any case, now we have visitors -- more watchdogs, even -- to celebrate the arrival of tonight. If any party is worth putting in the extra effort for, it should be this one," Joy replied.

"A party, huh?" Olivander perked up. "There's nothing like a good party. It would surely raise my pitiful spirits," he expressed.

“I think we almost hit their boat last night. Could have been celebrating death then," Timothy added.

Olivander immediately covered his mouth as he choked back another laugh. He was taking to Timothy quite quickly. He had a great sense of wit.

"I respect you and I respect your station, so it’s your choice of course, but I did want to get that out there. At the very least, can’t I suggest something smaller, more communal?” Timothy went on.

"A more private party? That sounds more intimate. I like the idea, personally," Olivander contributed.

"Well, I can certainly take that into consideration," Joy began. She then looked to Olivander. "I suppose I should ask you as well. It’s a tradition we’ve had recently, so how would you like to be celebrated?”

Olivander's smirk turned into a big smile. "Personally? I love the idea of a small, intimate party with the 'who's who' of Andalou. It would give me a chance to see where Andalou stands as a whole. To intermingle with the leaders of Andalou would also give me a sense of direction as to why I'm here. And of course, I'd like for you to be there as well. I already assumed you would be, but I want to make sure," he said with a cheeky grin.

"And if necessary, I can find something interesting to offer to Hinder," he thought silently.

A cold heart; a burning passion.

Blanks

Olivander wiped his face as Joy approached. He took a deep breath and took a moment to collect himself. Her touch was gentle and warm.

“I believe you when you say you don’t remember,” she said. “You don’t have to force it -- I won’t even remind you. You don’t even have to say anything if you do remember."

Olivander only nodded as his tears dried up.

"But there must be something. That’s something I believe very strongly, you understand. And if you truly have led a miserable existence, well, we’ll just have to make some. Hold onto them when they come.” Joy seemed very sure of her own words. It was no wonder she was a watchdog.

Olivander smiled finally as Joy's words hit his ears. Even if he had truly been miserable, there was something or someone in his life that made him happy. He would have to figure out who or what that was. Right now, no one memory or person came to mind. He could think only of growing up an abandoned child, living as a squatter, rummaging through trash until he learned the life of a thief. Even then, things didn't come easily. He made it on his own until the guild found him. It wasn't long after that that he became a watchdog to Hinder. But what happiness had he really experienced? He sighed and came back to reality.

“Oh, but that was a longer speech than it needed to be. My apologies. In any case, should we just start with your name and why you’ve chosen to come to Andalou?” Joy asked patiently.

Olivander finally began to stand to his feet. "My name is Olivander but my friends just call me Olive. Like yourself, I'm a watchdog. As far as why I'm here," he said with a shrug. "I couldn't really tell you. I can only tell you that Hinder is fond of me and wants me to entertain him. I hope to find something here worth his ti--"

Before Olivander could finish, someone had barged into Joy's home.

“Joy! Hey, sorry to bother you, I was going to catch you on your walk but, um, well, anyway, Timothy had a question about the stuff going on tonight so I just came to fetch you. Are you busy?” An unknown woman had what sounded like pertinent questions for Joy.

“That depends,” Joy said before turning to Olivander. “Are you willing to up and come along, or do you need to stay here? I’m not going to leave you behind, you understand.”

Olivander nodded. "I'll be fine. I'm happy to come along. I'm sure it will give me an opportunity to clear my head." Internally, Olivander felt like a nice breeze would help him feel better. Then, the thought of going outside reminded him of what thoughts plagued his mind before he passed out in pain the previous evening. "What was that word? I'll have to discuss it with Kitt. It's likely a word of power." Olivander forced a smile and approached the door. "Shall we?" he asked, trying his best to shake himself off and lose the awful thoughts that had tormented him. "Get yourself together man. You can't break down like this. You're far too vulnerable."

I'm game.

Going Through Changes

Olivander felt his body stir unwillingly in the early morning. He hadn't had the strength to even raise his head. He could only crack open his eyes and see the world beneath him moving. He quickly fell back to sleep as his head began to pound once more.

When he finally awoke fully, Olivander found himself inside someone else's dwelling. His first instinct was to reach for his blade and protect himself. His guard high, he sat upright and searched the immediate room. There was no one there, but Olivander kept his guard up regardless. He slowly stood to his feet, slightly dizzy but managing to get his bearings. The room swayed just a bit which caused Olivander to lurch forward and lean against the bed he had been in. "Who am I kidding? With the way I feel, if someone wanted me dead, I would be dead already." His subconscious thoughts caused him to sheathe his dagger and try to get a grip on where he was. He could hear footsteps in another room. Hopefully, whomever was waiting on him hadn't suffered too much due to his own inability to get his shit together. Olivander quietly left the room he'd been provided and achingly made his way across the residence to see who exactly had rescued him.

The journey was long and arduous for him, but Olivander had finally made it. Before he could say a word, a young woman with short, bright orange hair turned around to greet him. She looked to have a compress in her hand. She must've been his caretaker. She seemed harmless, so Olivander made himself calm down.

“Oh! Good morning,” she had said.

Olivander could only nod at first.

“I’m Joy, a watchdog of Laeta -- and yes I know, but if you want to hear an even more on-the-nose name, you should hear what my dad tried to name me," the young woman explained.

So, she was a watchdog? Of Laeta, the god of joy. And her name was also Joy. This made Olivander smile. It was a weak, strained smile, but it made him smile all the same. "It's a pleasure," he managed to reply with a groan. His head was still aching.

"This is my house, you’re safe here, and, um, I know this sounds a bit silly but I suppose it behooves me to ask, when you get your bearings enough to introduce yourself in return, if you can remember, what’s the happiest you’ve ever been?”

Olivander kept smiling. She was quite sweet. "I.. urgh," Olivander groaned as he fell to a knee. He could feel the room spinning again. "Apologies, Joy," he said quickly. He struggled back to his feet. With a pained smile, Olivander looked Joy in the eyes. He tried to maintain his composure, but slowly he began to weep as he replied to her question. "I honestly don't remember."

His voice cracked as he pressed his back against the wall. He slowly slid to the floor as his head pounded and his heart boomed. His emotions ran high as he thought about the question thoroughly. And that was when Olivander realized he had never truly been happy. He had brief moments of excitement and joy. He had short spurts of arousal, wonder, and passion. However, Olivander had not experienced happiness to its fullest extent. And through the pain in his head, this hurt much, much more. He placed his head in between his knees and wept.

Listen. My knowledge of the arts has not changed. It is little to none. But I know a beautiful, good dog when I see one.