Log:Test Your Metal, Scene 4

Test Your Metal 2015/11/22 Grimm Malcolm 4

Saura'Kol'Turravranna

Muddy light flashes through veins of ore and crystal embedded in the cream-, umber-, mocha-, and scarlet-streaked rocks that form a vast, vaulted ceiling overhead. Pillars of granite and basalt suspend the celestial sphere of earth in the sky. Earthen retaining walls of varying heights and densities are built up in many places, no doubt creating dazzling patterns if seen from above.

Crunching and cracking underfoot is some form of blackish gravel, the pebbles as likely to support your weight as to break in half or splinter into a rough, gritty dust cloud as one moves to take in the place that surrounds you. A gloomy weight hangs over this place, its presence felt even in the dense pressure of the air in this subterranean locale. It feels for all the world like one has invaded an other-worldly mausoleum, an unsettling monument to the Dead.

Sound echoes strangely in here, the custard-thick air in this realm making it so much easier for sound to travel. Yet, at the same time, all of the sound feels flat and uninflected, hindered by the very air through which it so readily transmits.

At the end of the last issue of Shadows & Steel, Gabrielle Grimm decided to embark on a journey without Malcolm Gibbs.

To date, Grimm has been to the Colavrassa twice that she knows of. Both times have been radically different experiences. Once was a burning, broiling desert wasteland at the fringe of what was once a civilization older than anything she had experienced. Shattered ruins were half-sunken into glittering, shimmering desert sands like the ribs jutting from the rotten flesh of a positively Titanic corpse. It was an experience indelibly seared into her memory by the light of three suns as she fell out of the In Between and staggered through the broiling, burning sandscape.

Beyond the blasted, bleached ruins of a civilization lost, she could see the monstrous outlines of a Sarkterran pack. Incomprehensible monsters roaming the wastes in search of food and shelter, the light of their suns reflecting harshly off of the polished metal plates and scales decorating their minimal clothing. Ahead of them, two lone blades carve through the desert sands, leading the sarkterrans onward through the wastes toward prey unsensed by Grimm's burgeoning Dark Senses.

Perhaps an hour ago, Gabrielle Grimm walked through a portal between worlds. She found herself in a vast, featureless plain and accosted by the shimmering, glittering dance of diamond dust on an unforgiving wind. Mounting the horizon was an absolute horde of sarkterrrans, the monstrous things apparently as immune to the sub-freezing temperatures as Grimm herself. No more than an hour ago, Gabrielle Grimm was face-to-face with the stark, alien beauty of a desert cast not in heat, but in purest, most inhospitable cold.

Gabrielle Grimm emerges from the In Between, birthed into a new reality by long, pale brown-grey shadows. She - like her readers - would be forgiven for her confusion as she gets a look at her surroundings. Muddy light flashes through veins of ore and crystal embedded in the cream-, umber-, mocha-, and scarlet-streaked rocks that form a vast, vaulted ceiling overhead. Pillars of granite and basalt suspend the celestial sphere of earth in the sky. Earthen retaining walls of varying heights and densities are built up in many places, no doubt creating dazzling patterns if seen from above.

Crunching and cracking under Grimm's feet is some form of blackish gravel, the pebbles as like to support her weight as to break in half or splinter into a rough, gritty dust cloud as Gabrielle moves to take in the place that surrounds her. A gloomy weight hangs over this place, its presence felt even in the dense pressure of the air in this subterranean locale. It feels for all the world like Gabrielle Grimm has invaded an other-worldly mausoleum, an unsettling monument to the Dead.

"Welcome to my humble home, Outlander," rumbles a voice older and deeper than anything on Earth has a right to be. It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, not so much echoing as simply reverberating in the still, custard-thick air.

Naturally, the issue closes out on a wide-frame splash of Grimm standing on a low rise and facing the reader. Behind her, leering over her right shoulder is a luminous amber eyeball inside of which she could "hide", limbs spread wide in all directions. A bone-colored snout peeks out from behind the rammed earth and standing stones to her left, a hazy blue-grey fog bank rolling out of the lone nostril visible at its end, roughly at hip-level with the lone heroine.

The brand new issue of Grimm Tales opens precisely as Shadows & Steel ended. Probably because the art department is lazy.

Grimm is probably going to wish she had brought Malcolm with her now that she's not where she thought she'd be. She had expected the cold or sweltering wastes of the Colavrassa and packs of sarkterrans, which is why she wanted Malcolm home and safe. But now that she's not in either of those, and she can feel the voice vibrating through her right down to the bones? She's feeling very, very dumb.

The voice is in all directions as it bounces and echoes. so loud that a direction is hard to zero in on, but she sees nothing before her. Which only leaves behind.

Gabrielle's shadow senses don't really register what's behind her. A strange wall. A statue? A...was that moving when the greeting came? Her other senses where flooded and her mind elsewhere. So Gabrielle has to look, with her own human eyes, to be sure. With sluggish movement and mounting dread, Gabrielle Grimm's head ticks over to glance over her shoulder. And back at the eye peering at her.

It immediately brings back memories of almost being squashed by a certain giant dragon woman. Grimm's lips part before her mouth just gapes open in shock.

Her mind is so busy processing, she's unable to speak. Her mouth moves in an attempt to respond to the greeting, but she just feels so. Very. Small. Barely a croak escapes her throat.

"I believe the polite response you are looking for is, 'Thank you for having me in your home.' Perhaps even, 'Thank you for not devouring me in but a single snap of your jaws, O great and merciful Lord of the Lair.' Or are you from some land without manners?"

Now that Gabrielle Grimm has turned, snapping and grinding the gravel underfoot into even smaller forms, she can look out upon the vast creature that leers at her with a single, body-swallowing eye. Its snout may be bone-colored, but much of its body appears to be cast in shades of tan leaning toward the sun-bleached, its scaly hide unusually dull for a reptile. A hundred or so quills fan upward and backward from the top of its head, adding dozens of feet to its already terrifying height.

Easily thirty feet tall at the shoulder and over a hundred feet long from snout to tip of tail, what is sprawled on its legs and belly before Grimm seems like any European depiction of a dragon - save, of course, for its matte-finished scales and desert-optimized coloration - and yet it has not yet attempted to consume her. Maybe... Maybe it's mistaken her for a princess it's captured, to be held ransom until a knight in shining armor comes to rescue her?

"No. No, I do not believe you come from such a world, Outlander. I smell upon you the stink of The One whom the Blue Sovereign seeks. You come from /HIS/ world, don't you, Outlander?"

Gabrielle's knight in shining armor was left on his living room couch, unfortunately. "S-sorry. Thank you for welcoming me into your humble home and not eating me, O Great, O Merciful, O Polite Lord of the Lair." Gabrielle heaps on as much polite praise as she can to the Great Wyrm that dwarfs her completely.

"I don't know who the Blue Sovereign is, or who The One is. So I can't be sure. Who is the One and the Blue Sovereign?" So many questions, but first, the basics.

Gabrielle's response earns a bone-shaking peal of laughter from her saurian host. Its lips, such as they are, peel open in what might be an amused smile as the thing tips its head awkwardly. Quills rake the ceiling overhead, forcing a small rain of dust and gravel to fall from the "heavens" above.

"You will learn of the Blue Sovereign soon enough, Outlander. I can smell the stink of Vreckna's Stain upon you. You mask it well, of course, with the taints and reeking foulness of things older than I... Older than even this world. Perhaps even older than your world. But it is there, a lingering whiff of sins only a god could committ; the faintest aroma of a god's final judgement deferred, placed upon a mortal soul to absorb Fate's damnation."

The draconic figure slowly lowers its head, tucking itself in comfortably upon its roost in the well of space so far below Grimm's feet. It rests for a long moment, eyes half-closed, but its gaze palpably still upon her person. Fetid blue-grey smoke continues to issue lazily from its nostrils in slow rolling banks of fog that seem unable to escape from its nest in what may or may not be the center of this cavern beneath the world - this cavern that is an entire world?

Gabrielle has never heard the source of her powers put so...damningly. The weight of it is suddenly felt in full measure. If Gabrielle let the full scope of it sink in, she would probably go mad from the truth.

So how does Gabrielle Grimm usually cope with the sanity crushing facts? That's where the snark comes in. Although clinging to that defense mechanism in the face of her draconian host may be a supremely bad move. So she does what she does second best. Ignore the problem. Ignore the fate awaiting her according to the words of mad mages and off the lips of prophetic spirits.

Malcolm. She focuses on Malcolm and what she was traveling for in the first place. It steels her spirit and helps her go forward. "So I've been told, in not so precise ways. I'm curious about what you know about that. But I don't know anyone calling themselves Vreckna. But I've run into a lot of people. Could you describe this Vreckna to me?" Her voice finds its strenth, and she asks in polite, innocent honesty.

"You have not met Vreckna," comes the reply of Grimm's stupefyingly enormous host. It shifts its massive body with the sort of subtlety normally reserved for cats, large and small, with its matte-scaled, faintly pebbly hide rolling smoothly over muscles that flex and roll to shift it into a more comfortable roost in its nest. Only then does it open its eyes fully again, fixing those almost luminous amber eyes fully upon Grimm.

Again it seems to smile at her, head cocking slightly to one side in apparent entertainment. Issuing a low, jaw-rattling rumble of indeterminate nature, the thing slowly cranes its neck so that its face bobs within arm's reach of Grimm on the low rise in the Cavern That is a World.

"You ask good questions, Outlander. You are smarter than the average off-worlder."

There is a momentary pause as it regards Gabrielle.

"Vreckna was one of the Old Gods of this world. Obsolescent in the parlance of our new emperor, the Blue Sovereign. He was a god of creation, of glad tidings and new inspirations; not the god that made the world, but a god that could reshape the world with the things he made, the things he offered to the world. There is, however, an old expression amongst my people: Kal'sha daar ipsalm Da'hhhh'ack."

That awful smile spreads across its snout again as it regards Grimm. It is clearly asking a question without asking the question. Does Gabrielle Grimm, Duchess of Darkness, know what "Kal'sha daar ipsalm Da'hhh'ack' means?

Saurian-speak is next semester. At the moment, Gabrielle is clueless as to its meaning. Her teeth still feel like they're rattling from that previous rumble.

"I'm not sure how I got stained by one of this world's old gods precisely." After all, she isn't even sure about the list of the various elder gods and sleeping Kings of Edom, as they seem pretty numerous. "I don't even think I've been to this world before. I was trying to get to a place called the Colavrassa." She can't be sure of where she ended up, either.

Wait, the Blue Sovereign is a god. An active god, from the sounds of it. "What does that expression mean?" she asks with some degree of blossoming dread.

"If you know the Colavrassa, then you have been to this world, Outlander," replies the dragon. It regards her again, letting the silence settle into the thick, heavy air in the cavern. "And you do not bear Vreckna's Stain, but you have been near The One that bears it. Very close, from the stink of it. A relative, perhaps. Or one who is nearest your heart. It is a mark of Fate's hand and, by being too long in its presence, may stain you too. Drag you into Fate's punishment for the one carrying Vreckna's stain upon their soul."

Shifting its weight once more, the creature offers a crooked smile at Grimm's question.

"The best intentions cause the greatest harm. If only Vreckna had heeded such words, the Colavrassa would still be the Kola Natura, the Place of Oases. You would be wise to heed such words, Outlander."

Grimm's eyes widen a little. Success! "So I'm in the right world...just the wrong place. I'm sorry for intruding in your home," she apologizes sweetly. Is Gabrielle the type to be able to charm a saurian? Well...stranger things have happened.

She purses her lips as she listens to the explanation of The One. One that is nearest to her heart. That's an easy answer for her, but when she hears about the mark of the One, her heart sinks at the thought that the Saurian is talking about Malcolm.

"Vreckna's stain...does it cause strange things to happen? Unlucky occurences?" she asks very carefully.

"I would not know, Outlander, I have never before been in the presence of one so stained," replies the saurian. Its eyes narrow slightly as it regards her, a fresh bank of blue-grey fog rolling out of its nostrils to wash over Grimm. Momentarily unable to see the thing through the thick smoke or the tears that its charred fruit scent forces from her eyes, Grimm is left to contemplate this a little more privately.

As the fog clears and the sweet-and-terrible scent of charred fruit lifts, Grimm is left facing not a draconic figure, but something not too far removed from a man. Standing 6' tall at the shoulder, his eyes are that same almost luminous amber as the massive beast that had ensnared her in fog. His skin is bleached from exposure to the sun, but still faintly brown-pigmented. Even as a humanoid, the creature's skin seems pebbly and the sun-dried cracking mirrors the lines of its former scales. For unclear reasons, it wears a pale, dusty colored robe that drapes from shoulders to wrists and ankles.

The sharp crack of his weight grinding gravel to dust draws one's eyes to his feet. Distinctly inhuman things, his feet appear to have three forward facing talons and two rear-facing talons, all tipped with glittering obsidian claws. When Grimm's gaze returns to his face, he is smiling an awful smile filled with glittering obsidian teeth.

"But it seems very likely that Fate would try to kill the bearer of Vreckna's Stain with extreme, perhaps humiliating prejudice. Does He suffer such ill fortune? Is His life fraught with dangers no one else experiences? Is that why you ask, Outlander?"

On the plus side, his voice doesn't make it feel like Grimm is going to shatter like the gravel beneath her feet anymore. Then again, her draconic host is now teeny tiny and equipped with big, sharp implements of death.

Teeny tiny? He's still tall compared to her! Gabrielle restrains an urge to step back subtly to give some space, because nothing says subtle like the sound of all those crunching granules of...what is that stuff? Do Rocks usually crumble away like that so easily?

Her eyes still water from the stinging smoke and gravel dust in the air. And that's definitely, totally not at all because now she's worried that there's some curse trying to kill Malcolm.

"Yes...yes he does," Gabrielle admits in a small voice, but at least not as comparitively small to the Saurian's original form. "But why? He's a good person. Why would Fate try to kill him? How would he be stained?" she presses for information in the hopes of being able to save Malcolm from some awful fate.

"Vreckna was Judged in the same moment that his folly - his best intentions - sundered the wonders and the greatness of the Kola Natura. He turned a Place of salvation, of wonder, and of blessed life into an eternal wasteland. The Colavrassa has no life left in its heart, it does not sustain any life that tries to live within it, no longer does it grant even the slightest of mercies upon those who travel there."

Gabrielle's host scoffs at her question. From his reaction, the answer should be obvious to her.

"For creating The Place of Divine Sin, for eradicating the lives of the untold millions that lived there, for eradicating the very Life Spirit of the realm, Vreckna was judged guilty of the greatest sin there is. But what is it, Dark Child, that I told you was Vreckna's divine ability?"

"Y-you said he could reshape the world. That he was a god of glad tidings and new inspirations. And I guess he took it too far and made a mistake that resulted in the destruction of the Kola Natura," Gabrielle repeats. She's a decent student.

Still, her brow furrows. "But what does that have to do with Mal--I mean...The One? He didn't do that!" she says in Malcolm's defense.

He laughs.

It is a cold, inhuman sort of laughter.

The kind of laugh one might imagine to hear from the Grim Reaper if asked to spare a life.

"What greater inspiration is there than a god facing its own mortality?"

Again, he laughs that awful, dissonantly musical laugh. It's the sort of sound that makes stomachs churn and skin to crawl.

"Vreckna shirked his Fate, spread it to the winds of the universe beyond the realms. Innocent souls are born, touched by Vreckna and stained with his Fate. They are challenged to rise above punishment fit for a god. Perhaps, in them, there resides a chance at redemption for Vreckna himself if they can only do deeds great enough for Fate to take notice of the being beyond the Stain."

Grimm's expression falls bit by bit at the news of innocents cursed because a God played...oh yeah. That's what they do.

But then, in the face of the cruel laughter, Gabrielle's face shows something one would not expect. Hope.

"If anyone could accomplish great deeds for Fate to take notice, it's him," Gabrielle says in completely faith and confidence in Malcolm. "Heck, he probably has al...ready...wait." She narrows her eyes slightly. "There's more than one soul cursed like this. So why is there just One? And why does this Blue Sovereign want someone already doomed by Fate?"

"Because there is only One True Hero for the Colossan people," replies Grimm's host. His expression goes neutral as he says the words, amber eyes glittering dangerously in the pulsing light from the crystalline veins overhead. Folding his loosely clothed arms across his chest, the creature starts to slowly circle Grimm.

"The One has taken something the Blue Sovereign believes is his. Stealing from the Ruler of the Twelve Realms is a crime without compare these days. You could, of course, just give your precious Malimean to the Blue Sovereign and reap the tremendous rewards of such valor, such devotion to Industry. Perhaps the Blue Sovereign might even help rid you of your taint, of the rot on your soul, Dark Child. He can be a merciful man, given a reason to consider having mercy upon you."

Grimm eyes the Saurian-Turned-Man as he paces around her, standing her ground and not turning as he comes around behind her. She can still see what he's up to. And she tries to appear brave, and interested.

"What could he have stolen that would be worth so much?" her voice echoes hollowly in the World Cavern.

"That is the question, isn't it?" replies the saurian-man. Sauriman?

One hand comes to rest upon Grimm's shoulder, obsidian claws glittering in the pulsing light of the Cavern That is a World, gently squeezing. His face leans over her opposite shoulder, the "sauriman" smiling that awful smile of his again.

"Your questions grow tiresome, Dark Child. What do you suppose your precious Malimean possesses that would be of value to the Blue Sovereign, Master of the Elements of Industry, and Ruler of the Twelve Realms?"

How did she let him get so close? She tries not to jump at the hand clapping on her shoulder with those terrible teeth trapping her on the other side. Gabrielle's brow furrows even more at the question.

"Something worth sending," don't say sharkturbans, don't say sharkturbans, "sharkterrans across into my world for. The only thing I could think of is...is..."

The only thing she knows he brought from this world. Is it his aura? Or is it...

"...some Collosus flesh. Or ...their metal." She highly suspects Collosus Flesh is just the word Mal has for it. Something that may not have any meeting to Mr. Sauriman.

"Mm. Interesting. He has sent Sarkterrans to your world. Very interesting indeed," murmurs the sauriman.

Abruptly Grimm is released from his grasp, the creature straightening up and starting to stroll that circle around Gabrielle again. It seems deep in thought, though not so deep as to miss Grimm's guess.

"He does not care about Colossan Flesh, no. Their number is almost gone, he has collected a thousand lifetimes of men worth of Colossan Flesh. But their metal... Oh how he lusts for the Blessing of Metal. It is said it is the last Obsolescent Blessing he needs to attain the power he purports to wield."

The "sauriman" circles Grimm again, pausing in front of her as he regards her with a dark curiosity of his own. He smiles again, jagged, obsidian teeth glittering in the light and oh-so-close to Grimm.

"Do you know, Dark Child, what it is to lust for power and have it snatched away in the night? Can you imagine his fury, his anguish, his insatiable hunger for revenge?"

Grimm swallows hard as she hears that msot of the Colossus are gone. What of the one that took Malcolm in? This is terrible! And she doesn't savor the idea of having to be the one to tell Malcolm the awful news. They can't just let the last of them get wiped out.

"I know that your emperor can't be so powerful if he can let something so important be stolen from him," Gabrielle retorts coldly, narrowing her eyes. She has no love for this Emperor. Not even a bit of respect for the Blue Sovereign now that she's got it in her head that maybe the Blue Sovereign controls the Sharkterrans.

"And I also know the person I know hasn't stolen this Blessing of Metal," Gabrielle says confidentally. "He's not a thief, and he doesn't have it." A lie. A total lie. That strange, beautiful, rainbow colored aura of Malcolms...could that be the Obsolescent Blessing?

"Did I say that he was my emperor?" inquires the "sauriman". He seems to utterly ignore everything else that escapes Grimm's mouth, his smile turning as cold and inhuman as his laughter was. The light in his amber eyes intensifies ominously, his hands flexing a few times as his claws slice through the thick air.

"Do you really believe that a Sauras would bow before some insignificant human? Your kind, Dark Child, are foot notes in the grand book of history. Fate hardly seems to care for your people any more than your people seem to care for the Obsolescents they have forsaken. You would do well to remember one other phrase that is important in this world, Dark Child, for I shall collect on the debt you have so short-sightedly incurred today. Ask your all important Malimean what "nicht Saura tricht-da" means, I'm sure that he knows."

Can lizards seethe with fury? It really looks like this lizardman is seething with fury.

"The Blue Sovereign...is human?" Gabrielle murmurs in surprise at the revelation. And then the second revelation hits her. She got herself in deep on this one.

Grimm's bravado falters and she takes a step back from that seething impression she's getting from Sauriman the Sauras, the ground crunching beneath her heel and crumbling. "Debt...? I'm sorry, I misunderstood! I thought the emperor was like you. A sauras. I had no idea he was a human, O great and merciful Lord of the Lair!" she pleads honestly. The words, though...that phrase, she commits to memory, because it sounds pretty ominous and important.

"Of course the Blue Sovereign is human, Dark Child," hisses the Sauras, "Is that not what most humans desire? Power, respect, control, unquestioned authority."

One clawed hand rises, surrounded by a glowing sphere of amber energy. Bolts of white lightning shoot through the orb like veins through the most irritated eyeball of all time. A single point of blood red liquid(?) starts welling up from nowhere at the dead center of the sphere. Sound starts to fill the Cavern That is a World, setting the gravel to rattling in a weirdly rhythmic pulse whilst the colors of the earth itself seem to bend and melt into one another.

"Neither knowledge nor your life is free, Dark Child. You will repay my mercies this day DEARLY. You may start by leaving my Saura'Kol'Turravranna, never to return unbidden."

First and foremost, ever since she's gotten here, Grimm has been aware of that familiar sense of spatial distortion. The one she gets when looking for Professor Nessiam's office or when the sarkterran was around her. It's greatly diminished here though, she can at least use her Shadow Sight fairly reliably to gain some sense of the scope of both the enormity of her host and his realm. Even at his greatly reduced size, you can feel the inhuman power of his muscles and bones and the metal-lined interior of his leather and slik robe.

Secondarily, Grimm notices something... Weird. Ever since Grimm finished materializing in this world, she has had this sensation somewhere at the back of her mind. It's like being aware of there being a door nearby that you cannot see. To this point, it probably has not really been terribly relevant because Grimm has both had bigger fish to fry and has not been aware of a key or a door knob for that invisible door she can just /TELL/ is here. Somewhere nearby. Grimm's also aware of a fading point - kind of like a window, she guesses - that was where she first breached into this world from the In Between.

Now that Grimm's host is working some kind of powerful magic - Grimm isn't even sure what kind of magic that is, she has never seen anything like it before - she has become aware of the metaphorical key and door knob for that metaphorical door she's sensed. It is behind her, a few feet from where she was standing/facing when she first arrived. What's on the other side, she cannot tell, her senses new and old don't seem to extend through the doorway.

That magic vaguely reminds Grimm of Malcolm's aura in that it seems to be filled with elemental magical energy, but not any kind of element that Grimm has ever dealt with before. It almost feels like fire, but that definitely doesn't feel adequate or even accurate to what she sees in that roiling magical ball. Somehow it seems to encompass more concepts than merely fire; it's like looking into the heart of the sun and... And... And... Grimm feels like she can't find a more appropos way of describing it, even though the power doesn't seem to really, truly be sun-/solar-based. It's just such a good way of describing the endlessly overlapping concepts of light and energy and health and power that is the magic she senses.

Grimm is smart enough to know when her goose is cooked. She suspects that, with the power the Sauras is coalescing, she could open that invisible doorway and escape to the other side unharmed. Whatever's on the other side has to be safer than being in an extradimensional alien dragonman's lair while he is forming some kind of solar(?) cannon-looking spell aimed at her. Right?

Grimm knows enough that it's time to get the hell out of Dodge'Turravranna! Right now. Right this instance. She turns and starts to run, vanishing from her starting point and reappearing just before the magical door as she keeps on sprinting for dear life. As much power as she can wield, she's not about to test her durability against the heat of an alien sun.

She reaches out a hand towards the metaphorical door her bizarre senses tell her is there, thinking desperately, 'OpenopenopenPuh-LEASEopen!'. Her fingers close as if to grasp a knob she cannot see and she pushes while she charges forward.

Gabrielle Grimm touches something that her Shadow Sight, her regular sight, and her normal sense of touch is adamant does not exist. Everything goes wrong for an instant before she stumbles out of ??? into the harsh, gritty desert sands of the Colavrassa. Only a single sun hangs over the Colavrassa today, bright white and shockingly small as it bears down on her from the northern (southern?) sky.

It's neither cold nor hot at the moment, the desert a shockingly temperate environment as she gulps in the arid, water-bare air. Whatever she just did to escape was an intense experience. Grimm probably feels dehydrated and drained as though she tried to wrench half of planet Earth with her into the In Between. A pulsing pain nags at the back of her head as her hands and knees sink into the shifting sands under her.

Welcome back to the Colavrassa, Gabrielle Grimm. Care to stay a while this time?

Grimm stumbles out of the whatever was In Between that World Cave and the Colavrassa, pitching forward into the sands. After landing on her hands and knees, she stays there a while, panting and groaning a little from the exertion of crossing into the desert and the pound pain that makes the whole base of her skull feel like it's pulsing.

Gabrielle gives herself several moments to recover before looking up and around. She did it. She made it. She's safe(??!). The Colavrassa sure does shift to a variety of climates. She's only thankful that this time, it wasn't the blinding, searing heat of three suns.

For the moment, all is calm and all is quiet in the desert sands. Grimm is even fortunate enough to find herself in the lee of a jutting hulk of a lost civilization. Out of the wind and the direct heat of that lonely sun, Grimm can take her time to recover and hope that she isn't followed by that sore ass Sauras.

Grimm breathes a sigh of relief, looking over her shoulder towards where she just came from. If the door is even there anymore to not see. Her panting slows and she swallows, her throat dry. She really should've thought of hydrating better before coming to a desert.

Her fingers squeeze into the sand as she starts to pull herself up to her feet slowly. Once she's upright, she dusts off the sand from her hands and begins to walk forward to look out across the desert. Maybe there will be some helpful landmarks for her to guide herself by.

Gabrielle Grimm climbs to her feet and around the hulking stone and steel spike of what used to be some vast building's wall. She can feel, by fiat, much of the rest of the structure dozens of meters below her in the sand, crumpled in upon itself and swallowed whole by the Colavrassa's sands. This lone spire is the building's only finger reaching for the heavens above.

Perhaps the only thing that Gabrielle Grimm notices from her perch is just how many of those "doors" are around her. There must be a dozen within forty meters of her position, going to who knows where, and all of them are locked up tight. She can sense no keys for them, no way of forcing them open to let her explore beyond.

Everywhere she turns, Gabrielle Grimm sees little but the endless, rolling hills of sand and the occasional piece of man(?)made rubble, slowly being swallowed up by the glimmering, glittering sands of the Colavrassa.

It's strange, looking at the sand-swallowed ruins of civilization of the place once called Kola Natura. It's a name that evoked the idea of a beautiful oasis of nature. Or a brand of natural soda.

Either way, Gabrielle still can't fathom the knowledge that a god destroyed this vast place, making it what it is today. And that somehow out of its destruction from what could be centuries or millenia ago, Malcolm could be cursed by Fate. Was it all because he fell through one of these doors by accident when he was a kid? Or that Fate marked him long before that.

It's all theories, half cleaned from that angry Sauras that thankfully didn't eat her. As she looks out across the vast, endless sands and ruins, she wonders where to go next. And who is this Blue Sovereign human that is killing off Colossi. And so many more questions with not really any full answers.

She lets out a breath and tries to decide where to go next, her heart finally ceasing its racing from the escape from the angered Sauras. She looks towards the next nearest ruins as shadowy wings sprout out of her back. Guess it's time to do some exploring. Gabrielle starts to run forward and leaps up, her constructed wings beating and carrying her aloft to soar in that direction.

Gabrielle Grimm takes flight, shadowy wings carrying her over the blasted, shattered, sand-choked landscape. It takes her close to ten minutes to reach the next significant patch of ruins. She can circle the building until she decides upon a proper landing zone, the revenant structure a dusty multi-level building lacking large chunks of walls in various places. Overall, however, its support structures seem safe and secure.

Six stories of the building remain above the sand, the top level clearly not the original roof of the building. It is a long, narrow structure with generally rounded edges that sort of remind one of a toppled and shaved cylinder. Weathering three suns and wind-blown sands have eroded its walls, stripping it back to the bare stone under the bleached enamel surface. Grimm suspects it was, at one time, covered in blue and yellow enamel in some sort of strange pattern. There simply is not enough left to discern what once had been.

Perhaps the most important part of this structure, however, is the fact that it has floors that are insulated from the desert sun and the heat that Gabrielle imagines must eventually come.

Grimm circles slowly over the building, the wind and breeze not ruffling the shadowy feathers of her wings. She starts to spiral down towards the rooftop before alighting on it. From her new vantage point, she takes another breather, wiping her brow with the back of her arm as her wings vanish. She should definitely wear something cooler. And find water soon at this rate. Her eyes pan the horizon as her clothes shift to something more breezy: A white cami tank top and cutoff jean shorts.

What? It's too warm to wear black!

The entire structure groans as Grimm's wings evaporate. It does not, however, collapse or even crumble. Perhaps all buildings as ancient as this one make noise, there simply isn't enough silence or people around to appreciate the words of such ancient structures. Or, maybe, it's just that this building has not supported anything but its own weight in a geological age.

Every direction that Grimm looks, she sees little but a ruined, sand-swallowed landscape. Buildings or what might have once been a part of a building jut out of the ground on occasion. At the very fringes of her ability to clearly see, Grimm can barely make out a rocky outcropping jutting up in the shadow of half of an enormous metal tower aimed awkwardly at the lone sun in the sky. Bubbling out of the rocks and drizzling down into a rocky basin carved into the sand is water. It's an ugly, muddy color, but it is definitely water.

Below Grimm, she can feel the entire building, all 15 stories, 9 of which are buried deep under the sands. There is nothing left in here, save a few as yet undestroyed bones littering the lowest floor. Every inch of the building feels old. Tired. Ready to give in to the sands shifting and gently blowing against its sides, starting to stream into the interior through cracks in the walls and de facto foundation.

Water! Gross water, but water none the less! Somehow seeing it makes Gabrielle even more thirsty. And yet it's so far away.

The groan in the building does nothing to encourage Gabrielle on it's structural integrity. If she goes in there for shelter, she worries it'll collapse in on her while she rests or naps.

And still no keys! All these doors and no keys. How did it work the last time? The Saurian's magic seemed to open the last one, but she doesn't have that anymore.

Before deciding to move on for water, Gabrielle decides to investigate some of the insulated interior. Maybe some things survived in these ancient ruins. Or there's some sign of a key. Her body shimmers and grows dark, turning into shadow before she sinks down through the rooftop and down into the floors below.

Grimm descends into the semi-darkness of the ruins. As she draws nearer to the bottom floor, she starts to feel something down there. It's not a thing that her Shadow Sight can report, nor a thing that she truly feels, but there is definitely a sense of getting nearer to something. A sense of metaphysical contact with something important.

Over the course of floors, Grimm finds herself with increasing disappointment in the lack of remaining things from the Colavrassa's past. It's like everything save the buildings themselves have decayed away into the desert dust... Or, perhaps, every sign of the civilization that was here was well and truly sundered from this world like pieces knocked free of a chessboard by a petulant god-child. The buildings a ghastly, skeletal reminder of what once was, survivors thanks to their sheer mass and construction.

When, at last, Gabrielle Grimm reaches the bottom floor of the building, she finds herself in a lightless cavern. She can feel brittle, aged bones scattered everywhere by some unknown force. She can sense the walls and supports. Most importantly, however, Gabrielle Grimm can feel an unlocked door in the center of the room.

As with the last unlocked door, Grimm cannot seem to perceive through it or even truly perceive it with her other senses. Yet she knows it's there; she knows it's unlocked. She may even suspect that wherever the door goes, it is somewhere different than the lifeless Colavrassa.

Gabrielle shivers as she feels the bone-strewn ruins. They're all in the bottom floor. Why are they all here? Her normal human eyes can't see down here, but she knows there's the door at least.

With a vague frown that she's not going to like what she sees, Gabrielle holds her palm out. An orange flame, without heat, smoke, or odor, manifests in her hand, casting light all around her surroundings within a thirty-two meter radius, illuminating the bones and dust and ruins below.

Bathed in the orange-light of Grimm's shadowfire, the majority of the lowest floor of the building is revealed. The walls in here are cracked and grey, ancient looking soot stains are spread around the faded, dusty mosaic tile floor. Gabrielle can't be certain, but she strongly suspects those soot stains are not unlike the shadows cast when humans are between walls and atomic bomb blasts.

The bones all appear to be from one... Thing. She cannot tell whether they were ever human, but they all seem to be from one creature, whatever it may have once been. Piles of dirty bone dust are spread out around the room as well, apparently where bones had once been scattered and eventually decayed to nothing. No monsters erupt out of former shadows toward Grimm and her shadowfire.

Gabrielle Grimm stands in the semi-darkness, surrounded by someone's bones and dust.

She is, blessedly, alone.

In a world not her own. Feet from some kind of doorway between this place and another.

And she still hasn't had anything to drink since leaving Malcolm.

The entire structure groans as Grimm's wings evaporate. It does not, however, collapse or even crumble. Perhaps all buildings as ancient as this one make noise, there simply isn't enough silence or people around to appreciate the words of such ancient structures. Or, maybe, it's just that this building has not supported anything but its own weight in a geological age.

Every direction that Grimm looks, she sees little but a ruined, sand-swallowed landscape. Buildings or what might have once been a part of a building jut out of the ground on occasion. At the very fringes of her ability to clearly see, Grimm can barely make out a rocky outcropping jutting up in the shadow of half of an enormous metal tower aimed awkwardly at the lone sun in the sky. Bubbling out of the rocks and drizzling down into a rocky basin carved into the sand is water. It's an ugly, muddy color, but it is definitely water.

Below Grimm, she can feel the entire building, all 15 stories, 9 of which are buried deep under the sands. There is nothing left in here, save a few as yet undestroyed bones littering the lowest floor. Every inch of the building feels old. Tired. Ready to give in to the sands shifting and gently blowing against its sides, starting to stream into the interior through cracks in the walls and de facto foundation.

Water! Gross water, but water none the less! Somehow seeing it makes Gabrielle even more thirsty. And yet it's so far away.

The groan in the building does nothing to encourage Gabrielle on it's structural integrity. If she goes in there for shelter, she worries it'll collapse in on her while she rests or naps.

And still no keys! All these doors and no keys. How did it work the last time? The Saurian's magic seemed to open the last one, but she doesn't have that anymore.

Before deciding to move on for water, Gabrielle decides to investigate some of the insulated interior. Maybe some things survived in these ancient ruins. Or there's some sign of a key. Her body shimmers and grows dark, turning into shadow before she sinks down through the rooftop and down into the floors below.

Grimm descends into the semi-darkness of the ruins. As she draws nearer to the bottom floor, she starts to feel something down there. It's not a thing that her Shadow Sight can report, nor a thing that she truly feels, but there is definitely a sense of getting nearer to something. A sense of metaphysical contact with something important.

Over the course of floors, Grimm finds herself with increasing disappointment in the lack of remaining things from the Colavrassa's past. It's like everything save the buildings themselves have decayed away into the desert dust... Or, perhaps, every sign of the civilization that was here was well and truly sundered from this world like pieces knocked free of a chessboard by a petulant god-child. The buildings a ghastly, skeletal reminder of what once was, survivors thanks to their sheer mass and construction.

When, at last, Gabrielle Grimm reaches the bottom floor of the building, she finds herself in a lightless cavern. She can feel brittle, aged bones scattered everywhere by some unknown force. She can sense the walls and supports. Most importantly, however, Gabrielle Grimm can feel an unlocked door in the center of the room.

As with the last unlocked door, Grimm cannot seem to perceive through it or even truly perceive it with her other senses. Yet she knows it's there; she knows it's unlocked. She may even suspect that wherever the door goes, it is somewhere different than the lifeless Colavrassa.

Gabrielle shivers as she feels the bone-strewn ruins. They're all in the bottom floor. Why are they all here? Her normal human eyes can't see down here, but she knows there's the door at least.

With a vague frown that she's not going to like what she sees, Gabrielle holds her palm out. An orange flame, without heat, smoke, or odor, manifests in her hand, casting light all around her surroundings within a thirty-two meter radius, illuminating the bones and dust and ruins below. Grimm licks her parched lips as her eyes travel from the dirt, to the dust, to the darkness beyond her shadowfire, and then back to the door. She's getting pretty damned thirsty. And there seems to be nothing in the Colavrassa left. Whatever great thing died in the depths of this building, it may be best left undisturbed. So that leaves...the door. Unlocked and hidden in the middle of this graveyard of an oasis.

She had wanted to go home. Have the coldest glass of ice water. Maybe lounge in a pool or rinse off all the dirty and grime sticking to her from her travels in the wastes. And then hug Malcolm like there's no tomorrow.

But what's just one more door?

Gabrielle's curiosity gets the better of her as she gives in to temptation, walking towards the unlocked door...

As Grimm approaches the point that she feels, deep down in her dehydrated bones, holds access to somewhere else, she feels a cool breeze wash over her skin. Somehow it doesn't give her pause though, the Dark Damsel striding right up to the doorway and then through it. Everything becomes nausea and disorientation as she surges through something like the In Between but not quite.

Up becomes left and forward becomes inside as she rides the screaming - is that her screaming? - interdimensional river. She pops out in midair, blessedly cool and comfortable and possessed of normal humidity. Gravity takes hold of her an instant or two later, dragging her out of the air and down toward the bubbling mountain lake six or seven feet beneath her feet.

Surrounding Grimm in every direction are trees. A pair of suns fill the blue-green sky overhead, each blazing orb of light and heat sufficiently far from the other that they don't quite seem to be heating the environment in concert. No more than twenty feet of bare, fertile-looking soil separates the lakeshore from the treeline anywhere Grimm can clearly see the shoreline.

Of course, Grimm probably has important things to deal with at the moment. You know, other than enjoying not being in a dirty, probably haunted hole in the ground in a possible atomic desert. Trying to react so she doesn't plunge into a strange other dimensional mountain lake could be a life saving point of interest. Just saying.

After her appearance in this new place, Gabrielle is left dizzy, nauseous, and disoriented. Her arms wrap around her stomach to hold it in place and prevent it from going anywhere. She swallows thickly to fight against the threat of bile rising up, her tongue feeling dry and swollen from the dry desert she was just in.

She begins to fall like a stone, and as Gabrielle becomes aware of her predicament, she very quickly slows down as she becomes light as a shadow. Which leaves her hovering in the air, inches from the waters surface.

slowly, Gabrielle rights herself as she realizes she was hovering sideways. With a few slow breathes, she tries to control her nausea and study her surroundings. Two suns again. But it's so much more moderate. Where could she be now?

Don't look at Malcolm, he's not here. Grimm also suspects that Malcolm has never been to this realm. There's such a natural beauty to it Malcolm surely would have mentioned this place if he'd ever been here. Surely.

Bobbing in the air over the water, Grimm surveys her surroundings. She appears to be in a forest clearing largely created by the modestly sized lake over which she is situated. Pine trees create the buffer zone between the shoreline and the forest proper, but Grimm can be pretty sure that she saw more deciduous trees deeper in the woods while she was falling.

If nothing else, this place feels... Clean.

The air is cool and refreshingly water-saturated, a gentle breeze blowing from the northeast (southwest?) to carry the clean, natural woodland scent across the lake and downhill toward whatever is beyond the mountains. Even the water below her appears to be clean, if not quite perfectly clear. A few fish can be seen darting about beneath the surface, their movements partially masked by dense growths of aquatic plants and the occasional slowly rotting tree limb.

After taking in the awe-inspiring beauty around her, Gabrielle gazes down at the clean, clear water below, thirst scratching at her throat. This is so much cleaner than the alternative she saw in the Colavrassa. Or at least, what she thought she saw with her parched mind. It could've been her mind playing tricks on her.

Being a consummate city girl, Gabrielle has little knowledge of the potential dangers of drinking water in the wilds. All she knows is she needs to drink something.

She attempts to wet her lips by licking them, then tentatively dips her hand into the cool, clear water of the lake. She draws the water up to her mouth in a cupped hand and sips from it. Of all the places Malcolm may have seen in this strange dimension, she could only hope he would have a chance to see such pristine natural beauty.

The water tastes cold. It does not have any particular or overt flavor of its own. Grimm may luck out and not get sick to her stomach for trying to quench her almighty thirst with potable, but untreated water.

Cold. Glorious cold. And refreshing. After the taste test, Gabrielle scoops more water and lifts it to her mouth, drinking just enough to not feel parched. She may not realize she could regret that later, but all she can think about is her thirst.

It takes a few minutes to really combat the sense of parching thirst. Largely this is because hands are terrible water containers.

Her thirst slaked, for the moment, Grimm gets a chance to look around at the natural wonderment around her again. She can, of course, make decisions about what to do and where to go from there.

Grimm lets out a grateful sigh as the thirst abates at last. Wiping her mouth with the back of her forearm, Gabrielle once again studies her surroundings. Long, willowing wings of shadow slowly sprout from her spine as she starts to rise up in the air again to get a higher vantage point. She gazes back generally towards the two suns and their position, wondering if this is on the same plane as the Colavrassa. It seems some oases still exist in this place. She tries to fly above the treeline and higher, perhaps to see if the Colavrassa is anywhere in sight in the distance.

After about a minute, Grimm gains sufficient altitude to really appreciate the breadth and scope of her surroundings. This is almost certainly not a mere oasis. Grimm appears, for all intents and purposes, to be somewhere deep within a majestic and far-ranging mountain region.

Somewhere amongst the heavy shadows of the trees, she can feel three streams and a single river flowing amongst the steep, rolling foothills and the occasional valley between the larger mountains. A broad assortment of small animals fill the vast forest around her. Her gaze sweeps from horizon to horizon to horizon, but the Colavrassa is nowhere to be seen or felt or even remotely sensed. There appears to be a city almost at the southern (???) horizon, recognizeable only for the plumes of steam and smoke rising from it and the glittering sunlight reflecting off of the glass and polished steel of this hypothetical center of civilization.

Is this really a part of the Colavrassa? Could she have somehow gone to some Place - with a capital P - else by using that "doorway" in the ruins? Does this place really look like an enchanted Disney forest or is it just Grimm's imagination running wild?

Grimm spend some time just floating above the forest, her shadow sight canvasing the majesty of it all as she takes it in with her own eyes. It's beautiful. She wonders if Malcolm would appreciate it. Her right hand flexes as she thinks of Malcolm, as if wanting to clasp his hand and finding only air. It's been a short journey, and she's only learned a little, but she's already missing her handsome hero.

But maybe she can enjoy the view a little longer before returning home. It's so peaceful and idyllic.

After some time of taking it all in, she finally spies what looks like a city. In this beautiful place? She can only picture the citizens of such a city as happy all the time. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and with thought, she shadow steps the distance between her and the city in the blink of an eye.

Whatever else Grimm may have gleaned from her trip, she almost certainly has learned exactly why Malcolm thinks of this world so fondly. It houses such magnificent and such varied environs, Grimm can only imagine what "Metal Earth" was like to have left such an impact on Malcolm's psyche, especially considering the parts of this world she's seen today.

As Grimm emerges from the shadows, she finds herself in a darkened alley between a huge brick and mortar - genuine brick and mortar! - factory or warehouse of some kind and a much older, much more rustic looking building. Constructed of enormous hardwood logs with some kind of dark, sticky, organic mortar, Grimm's first thought is probably "the town inn". She would, of course, be excused for such a leap of logic; the building certainly just exudes that Prancing Pony sort of air. Naturally the scent of hickory smoke and cooking meat probably doesn't help matters at all.

The thing that will bake Grimm's noodle is not actually a feature of the alley nor of the structures which have created it. Rather, Grimm's attention will very quickly be drawn toward one end or the other of the alley to the figures passing by on the streets beyond the alley's walls. People are wandering past in clothing that is very clearly not modern - Grimm's not even sure it's Industrial Era - and, more importantly, a large proportion of the people passing by do not even appear to be people in the conventional, colloquial sense. Not even the Alien District is so packed full of nearly-but-clearly-not-at-all humans.

In the first minute of observation, Grimm sees 35 different varieties of what she may assume are plant-based people, 25 different kinds of bird-people, hundreds of humans, and... Are those elves?

Why are there god damned Tolkien elves roaming around the Colavrassa or Metal Earth or wherever the #$&@ this place is called?!

DAMN YOU, ORLANDO BLOOM! STOP POPULATING ALTERNATE DIMENSIONS!

Grimm would love to take Malcolm back to Metal Earth if he wanted, but with the talk of the Blue Sovereign and suspecting Mal is the unwitting thief he seeks, perhaps now or any time would be a bad idea. She tilts her head up and sniffs at the hickory smoke and roasting meat that makes her stomach rumble and mouth water.

Gabrielle's attention quickly turns to the populated citizenry walking along the streets. This is amazing! She's seen a lot of strange things in her dimensional travels, but she has somehow yet to come across such variety.

As she steps towards the streets, she wonders if Malcolm wouldn't mind waiting a little longer for her return while she gains intel. Hopefully he's not all that worried about her.

She studies the clothing fashion of the people passing by. With each step, her clothes shift and alter to become more and more fitting with the populace until she can blend right in. And while there are humans about, she grins to herself. Why not? To the outside viewer, her ears appear to grow to small points like the elves she sees passing by, her hair rearranging to one of the long styles worn with decorative braids. All an illusion. She's still just Gabrielle Grimm. But an illusion so complete, it doesn't just look real, but feels real in every sense of the word.

It is once her slightly altered guise is complete that she steps out into the main street to look around. Her eyes first glance towards the front of the meat smelling building, then out and about as she listens in on passing conversations. She tries her best not to look like a tourist, but she stillh as that awe-struck 'not from around here' expression on her face.

From the shadowy alley, Gabrielf Grimm steps out into a massive central plaza. Her brown leather boots click on the rough hewn cobblestones as she pivots to look up at the log building. Its sign is carved into a huge slab of what looks passingly like redwood, the alien script is silver- and gold-gilded to enhance its visibility. What the sign says, Grimm can't be sure; she can't read the strange lettering.

The flow of clientele from the building is telling however. Grimm may rightly suspect that it is, in fact, the local saloon or tavern or similar establishment. It features a surprisingly bland - for a real, honest to goodness log cabin style building - public facade.

Now that she's amongst the throngs of people, Grimm can start picking out details about the elves. There's something faintly off about them that she probably hasn't previously encountered. All of the elves - every last one of them - has a skintone that is just not quite normal, particularly for the sort of climate that surrounds them. Where one would expect fair-skin with subtle tans, Grimm finds a race of uniformly pale-skinned pretty people. It's almost like they've been out in a blizzard too long, wearing too little; their skin is uniformly a shade of 'white' that on Earth would suggest both hypothermia and possibly circulatory problems exacerbating things.

Of course, there's another detail to the elves that bears mentioning. More than 90% of the elves have long, straight raven black hair. The rest of the elves seem to be evenly split between white hair or gold-blonde hair.

Judging from the number of buildings surrounding the plaza, Grimm suspects this may be some sort of central bazaar or important public square. There is, in fact, a huge wooden stage about 80m southeast(?) of her present location, though it's presently unoccupied. Several more brick-and-mortar buildings, of various sizes and shapes, are fitted in between or alongside wooden buildings around the square. For the most part, these buildings seem to represent new and old in a very visceral sort of way.

Integration of some sort seems to still be in the process of happening.

Picking the majority, Gabrielle still has her raven black hair, though it's less wavy at the ends and more straight now. Her skin pales a little to reflect the palor of the elves, but she lets it happen gradually to be less noticeable to the populace.

She stands while others filter around her, gazing at the amazing sights. Maybe she can learn or eavesdrop on talk of the Blue Sovereign? And what better place than a tavern or inn-like establishment. At the very least, it will be worth peeking into.

She can't read the sign, but she doesn't need to know the name of the place. She smiles to herself and imagines what sort of delicious meats are making that smell. A few steps is all it takes to carry her to the entrance. She opens up the door and steps inside, inhaling deeply as she looks around and listens to the surrounding chatter.

Our dear protagonist, Gabrielf Grimm, enters a tavern. It feels vaguely familiar to Grimm, as though she's seen this sort of floor plan before, but that isn't really important right now is it?

Grimm moves from the bright sunlight of the outside and into a surprisingly cozy interior. It's dark and rustic and wood-paneled everywhere she looks. At first blush, light appears to be primarily provided by a mixture of oil lamps and flickering gas fixtures mounted or hung in various, sometimes odd, locations around the massive main floor of the tavern.

A vast stage occupies the far wall of the main room. Experience suggests to Grimm that in spite of the sheer enormity of this main room, the back of the stage area is only one third of the building's actual depth from the outside. Heavy curtains of red and gold fabric hang down from the rafters, controlled by a series of manual and automated pulleys connected to the simply laid out catwalks in the shadowy rafters above the stage. Grimm's Shadow Sight proves invaluable in allowing her to see into those shadows.

The main room has something of the look of a traditional Irish pub fused organically with a German beerhaus. Huge tables line the middle area, beset with long, low benches to facilitate communal consumption, while more intimate nooks round the walls of the room. A handful of stand alone nooks are wrapped around the tremendous wooden columns bearing the weight of the ship-worthy cross-braces overhead.

Outside of the building, there was a distinct scent of hickory smoke and many kinds of roasting meat. Inside of the building, Grimm is fairly swimming through smoke and meat odor. She might be able to bite chunks of meat out of the streamers of creamy grey smoke wafting through the air.

For the moment, of course, Gabrielf is busy with the task of blending into the background so she can listen in on conversations. She does a reasonable job of looking like an elf in search of other elves, wandering aimlessly throughout the tavern's cavernous floor plan, pausing here and there to listen in on snippets of conversation. In general, conversation does not at all mention the Blue Sovereign; rather, Grimm hears a lot of talk about "Industry", "uprisings", and the Kidodda Yu City Council.

Based on context, Grimm gradually comes to realize that "Industry" is not, in fact, industry as she knows it. Instead, "Industry" sounds to be equal parts religion, central organizing principle of society, a magical school (or schools?), and The Law. She would not be out of order to believe the Blue Sovereign is somehow deeply enmeshed in how "Industry" is being integrated into society and/or how society is being indoctrinated into "Industry".

As for the Kikodda Yu City Council, Grimm is taken to understand that she is presently in the city of Kikodda Yu. Its city council is apparently straight out of a soap opera, if the local gossip mill is to be believed, though the big story amongst the drunk and the hungry is that the city council has enacted an ordinance that requires "Colossans" - come to think of it, the Sauras in that world-cave referred to Colossans, not Colossuses... Colossi? - to register with the Council, the constabulary, and the local Industrial Union.

Gabrielf Grimm will probably come away from this place smelling like hickory smoke and barbecue. A wonderful combination. If she only had the coin of the realm, she'd be buying any sorts of meats on sticks that she can get.

But as it is, she's not even sure what the local currency is. She keeps an eye out for such things out of curiousity. It may be good to know later. Although, she may not need to know it at all, she thinks with a grin to herself. This isn't the first odd dimension she's visited, and she's learned ways to blend in and adapt. Not all of them legal.

She slows near the conversation that speaks of Colossans. Now that concerns her. Speaks of injustice that reeks of something she might suspect the Blue Sovereign to be behind. She stays near that conversation, listening with curiosity to find out more details about the Colossans. Why are they so persecuted?

Fortunately, Gabrielf Grimm is an extradimensional thief and/or rogue. She blends into the crowd so thoroughly and so completely that the quartet of men in the corner nook never really notice her for what she is.

A spy.

Two humans - there really are not a lot of black people in this world, Grimm is beginning to notice - are seated across a small, heavy wooden table from what appears to be some kind of man-canary and a giant rosebush in the shape of a man. Between them there are no less than five serving dishes of food, most of it greater than three-quarters eaten and going cold, and enough empty beer steins to kill Paragon. Somewhere in the middle of her extended period of eavesdropping Grimm is forced to play the part of a serving wench, collecting dirty plates and empty steins to haul over to a busboy station that stinks of ozone and appears to conveyor things through the walls to points unknown.

Grimm senses magic in the automated bussing station. Some sort of strange, weak enchantment. It's a curiosity unrelated to her primary mission in the tavern.

Skulking back toward the nook, Gabrielf once again blends into the masses of... People... that fill the tavern. Once again she is struck by a weird sense of vague familiarity. There is something weirdly familiar about the floor plan in this place. The Duchess of Darkness dallies around the corner of the nook's wall and listens in on the conversation as fresh flagons of beer are delivered to the nook's occupants.

Conversation continues, elaborating upon various details of the new ordinance. The city council is citing the Colossans' generally exaggerated size as the reason for the ordinance, requiring an accurate count of Colossan citizens so that zoning and construction codes can be adequately enforced, as well as updated to better serve the Colossan population. Grimm can sense the sarcasm on the part of the tall, vaguely Hispanic looking human that reports the "best interests of the Colossan people" part of the ordinance. It is palpably snarky.

Overall the conversation seems to be about how much the city council is bending over backward to assist in quelling the Colossan uprisings. Apparently a significant portion of the remaining Colossans are rebelling against the Blue Sovereign's regime throughout "the outer realms". The city council is concerned that the uprisings may spill over into "the core realms", of which Kikodda Yu is apparently a part. Gabrielf is pretty sure the uprisings are just a convenient excuse to further extant persecution of the Colossans; there's a certain sardonic edge to the assembly's words that suggests the Colossans are universally a repressed minority.

Then again, the Sauras said that the Blue Sovereign has killed a lot of Colossans since taking power. Is it really any surprise that they're a repressed minority with a leader like that?

Grimm hears about as much as she needs to in order to understand the situation. If Malcolm knew, he'd definitely to help. Even if the Colossans weren't close to his heart, she'd want to help them against the Blue Sovereign. But taking on a regime singlehandedly is beyond even the Queen of the Void's significant power.

Moving along with the crowd again, unnoticed and fitting in, Gabrielf leaves the tavern and the delicious smells behind, stepping out into the street again. She takes in a deep breath and sighs it out.

It's time to go home.

She makes the short trip from the front of the tavern-like building and back to the alleyway she appeared in before. It's a shame to leave such a wonderous place, but she needs backup.

Once she's deep enough in the alley to be away from the crowds, she begins to focus on home. Her world. Her Malcolm. Dark energies begin to coalesce around her as she prepares to pierce the veil between this world and the next.

Gabrielf Grimm vanishes from the alley in a susurrus of unintelligible voices and a small cyclone of darkness.

She surges triumphantly through the In Between, skimming and skipping across the yawning voids as she hurries for her home. There is so much to tell, so much water to consume, and so many hugs to give/receive.

The membrane between Here And There stretches like a wall of Saran Wrap around the charging bull that is Gabrielf Grimm. Her phantasmal, black- and grey-hued form starts to extrude into Malcolm's apartment, bursting out of the long shadows cast by the couch and coffee table. Grimm's leading hand reaches out for Malcolm's shoulder, the tall man anxiously pounding his fists into a heavy bag hung from the ceiling by chains. Alas, Malcolm's back is to Grimm as her ethereal fingers reach out for him from across space and time.

Just as Grimm thinks she's about to materialize, she sees the pulse of magical energy from inside of Malcolm's aura. Her incorporeal hand brushes the streamers of elemental energy surrounding Malcolm's body, sending a spark of shadowy lightning lancing down the streamer toward the hulking mass of life force at the core of his aura. Darkness intersects with the strange little mark in his aura, the mark that always struck Grimm as odd. As she looks at it memory floods back into her head of the first time she really, deeply assensed him.

It's a mark left by Fate. Fate stained his soul.

Darkness crackles around that mark on Malcolm's soul. It sizzles around the Stain of Vreckna as another piece of the puzzle clicks inside of Grimm's head. And, just like that, the darkness is repulsed. Magic blooms outward from that small, almost insignificant smudge on Malcolm's life force to distort the shimmering field lines that create a halo of power around Malcolm before they intersect with Gabrielle Grimm and her not yet real fingers.

Reality crumbles away around her as The Membrane Between suddenly tightens. Like a rubber band, the membrane suddenly lurches back the way it came, launching Gabrielle Grimm wildly back into the In Between. It twangs away from her a moment later as Gabrielle Grimm finds herself lurching back into the alley again...

And, by lurching, the artist for Grimm Tales means she is hurled back into Kikodda Yu, through the alley, out into the central plaza, and into the brick wall of a building across the plaza from the tavern.

And just like that, she's home! And there's Malcolm, working out his anxiety or frustrations probably at her disappearance. She really should've warned him. Brought him with her. But she wanted him safe. And now she knows it was for a very good reason.

She smiles as her fingers reach out to gently touch Mal's shoulder, but before she can get a solid foothold in this dimension, she suddenly sees it: The Stain of Vreckna.

She now has a name for it. All hope that it wasn't Malcolm the Sauras was talking about has been banished. She can't think of anyone who deserved such a fate less than her noble, selfless Malcolm. Perhaps it was that very stain that brought them together. One stained soul to attract a tainted one.

Only now, it's repelling her with a pulse of energy. Like being attached to a bungee cord that's stretched to its limit, Gabrielle's progress slows to a halt before she's flung back rapidly through the In Between with stomach churning force.

Breaking through the barrier back into Kikodda Yu doesn't slow her momentum. She bursts into this reality, and keeps flying, spinning head over heels until she hits the brick wall back first and upside down with a terrible, crunching thud that jars her entire body and threatens to almost break hero.

She starts to slide down the wall almost comically as she peels off of it, landing face down on the ground with another thump and strangled, choking gasps as she tries to draw air back into her winded lungs. She's dazed and hurt, feeling like she's about to black out. Gabrielle doesn't have the wherewithal to disguise herself as she lays sprawled on the ground.

The plaza is a bustling place, filled to the brim with activity. Grimm may not notice it over the agony and the ringing in her ears, but the plaza has gone still and silent as she wheezes dirt and masonry dust into her deflated lungs. Not a single person moves. Voices are non-existent. For precisely ten seconds it is as if time itself stopped entirely, trapping Grimm between moments for eternity.

Everything roars back to life as though on cue. Screams and shrieks fill the air, people start running in every direction except for toward Gabrielle Grimm's pain wracked body, and at the edge of Grimm's range of perception, she can hear alarm bells sounding. It's almost impossible to tell if the alarms are truly distant or if it just seems that way with the sound of her pounding heart and raging pulse stubbornly filling the majority of her hearing.

One might even wonder if those bells aren't just the beginning of concussion-induced tinnitis.

The back of Gabrielle's head blasts with throbbing pain. She's probably most certainly got a concussion. How severe, she can't tell yet, because she's in too much pain overall. She lifts her head slowly after planting her hands on the ground.

The ringing causes her head to throb more, the massive migraine blurring her vision momentarily. It starts to clear gardually as she notices people fleeing. Crap. She's been discovered in glorious fashion.

Slowly, painfully, Gabrielle tries to pick herself up off the ground.

While Grimm forces herself off of the ground, her Shadow Sight expands outward again. There is a fire in her chest as her lungs try to respond to the demand for fresh air, but there is a greater fire in her mind. People from the plaza are fleeing in droves, running every which way but toward her; many of those people are escaping into buildings beyond the row of buildings immediately surrounding the plaza.

It's what is happening at the periphery of her Shadow Sight that is probably most concerning. Men and women - and plants and elves - are appearing from thin air, bodies warping and twisting around some imperceivable axis before they finish translating into a normal condition on the streets of Kikodda Yu. Grimm can feel them - dozens of them - spreading outward and around the plaza like a sickness swarming through the veins of a patient.

That sensation in the back of her mind, that awareness of those "doors" between Places, informs her that these city guardians - one hopes that's all they are - are emerging from a number of doorways strategically malingering throughout the city. For some reason, no one's popping out of that one in the alley - but Grimm senses that that doorway is closed, even to her, for now - but that seems immaterial when a goon squad translate into the street on either side of the alley at the far end of said alley.

Now that the throngs panicking and fleeing the plaza are starting to thin, Grimm can see and feel a lone figure strolling across the plaza toward her. He looks eerily human, but not quite, with distinct plant-like features. Long vines beset with autumnally colored leaves forms his slicked back hairstyle, bright red leaves form a deep ruffle from his throat down to the middle of his chest-region - forcing their way out of his silk-like shirt and fine leather vest - as well as flounces at the end of his silk shirt's sleeves. A lone branch extends from one hand to the ground, acting as an unusually ornate yet uncarved cane.

"In the name of the Blue Sovereign, Master of the Elements of Industry, Ruler of the Twelve Realms, and Bringer of Order to the Uncharted, I command you to identify yourself and your purpose here."

Grimm straightens up slowly once the burning in her lungs disappates enough to allow her to do so. Being snapped through the In Between at breakneck speeds did not agree with her. Everything aches. And now she's not disguised to fit in with the denizens of this dimension.

Her eyes and senses canvas the area as she becomes aware of all the appearing guards, and the closing off of the dimensional door that separates her from home. Whatever curse is upon Malcolm's soul, it obviously doesn't want her to come back to her home dimension.

Before Gabrielle can collect her thoughts and think past that dull, thudding pulse in her skull from the impact, the flora guard makes demands of her and mentions the Blue Sovereign's name. The bastard that she's pretty sure is out to get Malcolm for something he wasn't even responsible for.

A part of Gabrielle wants to go all fire and brimstone. To drive fear into the hearts of these people who would call the Blue Sovereign "Master", but they're likely just citizens and guardsman trying to keep their world safe. She hasn't got a reason to believe they're evil on a personal level. Just following an evil guy.

"Just a visitor, passing through. I didn't mean to scare all the citizenry. I just had an accidental detour," she explains calmly. Her shadow sight keeps an eye on her back, and all around her, in case someone gets any funny ideas.

Both of the plantman's hands come to rest on the head of his cane as he leans awkwardly toward Grimm. He rests a comfortable seven feet distant from her as he inspects her manner of dress quite thoroughly. Grimm can sense the growing disdain for her appearance over the course of seconds. Apparently she does not meet with expectations.

"Your," Plantsy sniffs offensively, "Piercings would suggest you are not a freewoman. Though I quite agree, I imagine you did not intend to scare the citizens of fair Kikodda Yu. You have, however, made quite a public nuisance of yourself."

Pausing, the plantman straightens up slowly, tipping his head so that his headleaves get more direct access to the light streaming between alleys from the second sun. He regards Grimm seriously, lips pursed into a disgusted moue. All around the plaza, the guardsmen are moving into position, slowly tightening the noose of humanity. Escape, by ground, is quite clearly being cut off at this very instant. Naturally they are underestimating Grimm's abilities, but they really don't know anything about her at the moment, save for one glaring fact.

"You will, of course, submit to the authority of the Blue Sovereign and the Kikodda Yu City Council, slave, that we may return you to your proper owner. Judging from your garments, I would suggest you come from one of the labor camps in the Outer Realms."

Once again the planty gentleman pauses, lips pursing rather sourly before he inquires, "Dara Il Khem'Ghel?"

That's pronounced in the same sort of voice one inquires, 'Have you just arrived from the blackest depths of Hell?'.

Gabrielle quirks a pierced brow and purses her lips at the suggestion that she's a slave. They haven't begun to see what a public nuisance she can be. Plantsy made a fatal error telling her of labor camps in the Outer Realms, because you just know she won't let that camp remain standing for long once she finds it.

"Ohhhhh, buddy," Gabrielle smirks and just shakes her head as she notes the closing of the noose that she's pretty sure won't be able to contain her. Not a hope.

Just as she's about to rain fire, nightmare, and brimstone on them, feeling a little bit like going all Queen of the Void on them, she suddenly realizes the best way to find out where the labor camp was, and where the Blue Sovereign is, is to...submit.

The very thought of it makes her stomach churn.

The smirk fades and Gabrielle bows her head, suddenly sounding deferential to Plantsy McHopeYouLikeFireLater. "You've found me out. I'm sorry. I submit to the authority of the Blue Sovereign and the Kokodda Yu City Council."

Gabrielle's shadow almost does a double take as Gabrielle surrenders. Gabrielle, with head cast down in supplication, gives it a stern look to keep cool. The shadow nods ever so slightly and goes back to mimicking Grimm while remaining at the ready.

"Please don't use your mongerel words here," reprimands Grimm's new, special floral friend. Apparently 'buddy' doesn't mean the same thing here as it does back on Earth? He saunters toward Grimm, twirling his cane lightly in one hand before abruptly pressing the head of it against her forehead.

Grimm feels magic well up in the cane.

"... Why do your piercings not respond to The Illuminated Touch?"

The spell(?) continues to flow through the cane, but it just stops at the point of contact with Grimm. It does not, for some reason, continue onward toward its apparent target: Grimm's piercings.

Narrowing his eyes, Plantsy purses his lips and again demands, "Identify yourself and your purpose here."

"Maybe...they broke when I hit the building...?" Grimm suggests helplessly. "What're they supposed to do again?" she feigns innocence, not that it'll work with Planty. Maybe it'll have to be the Baroness of Blackest Night that unleashes her wrath. Better to be a goddess than a slave?

Plantsy withdraws his cane from Grimm's proximity, spinning it around quickly before bringing the foot of the cane down upon the cobblestones of the plaza. He promptly steps back as well, eyes narrowed and lips pursed into a sour frown as he withdraws from Grimm's proximity. Coming to rest all of five feet from Grimm, the plantman looks imperiously down at Grimm - and her shadow - as he intones, "You are hereby found in contempt of the Imperial Will and guilty of the crime of using unregistered, unlicensed, and unwholesome Obsolescent Powers to beset the public."

Guardsmen start to pour out of the alleys and buildings surrounding Grimm. They carry a weird and wide variety of weapons, several of them carrying what appear to be assault rifles beset by glowing runes. One of them has some kind of Super Soaker looking thing filled with a blindingly violet liquid that Grimm is pretty sure is blinding her Shadow Sight in that direction. No fewer than fifteen guys with spears brandish their weapons as they advance upon the mysterious Contessa of Creeping Darkness.

If she's going to act, Grimm surmises, now is probably the best time to do it.

Few people know that Gabrielle could be mistaken for a jedi. She fixes her eyes on Plantsy's as he accuses her of a crime and summons his guards. "No, no, you're mistaken. They're just broken. I'm just a lost slave. I didn't use any powers. You want to return me to my master."

There's a bit more of a compulsion on the last part as she tries to convince Plantsy that the best course of action would be to treat her as an escaped slave. She isn't the user of Obsolescent Powers they're looking for?

Unfortunately for Gabrielle Grimm, her Jedi Mind Trick is not sufficient to win the day. It is, however, sufficient to stagger Plantsy. He places his free hand on his forehead whilst he tilts awkwardly forward and to the right, balancing oddly on the balls of his leather-clad feet and the root of his cane.

"Restrain the prisoner! Find me an Alkeme to determine the nature of her piercings! I want her out of my city posthaste!"

Three of the spear-carrying guardsmen step up around Grimm, two of them keep their spears trained on her neck. One of them sheathes his spear behind his back and produces a complex arrangement of irons from somewhere behind his back as he advances on Grimm, apparently fully intent upon clapping her in steampunk containment manacles.

Well, so much for that plan. "Geez, all this because of a bit of fashion. They're just there for looks," Gabrielle grumbles as Plantsy's cries of complaints. "And I can show myself out of your city just fine. Give the Blue Sovereign a kiss for me."

Gabrielle's back to smirking as she goes dark and semi-transparent, even with the spears trained at her throat.

With a wink and a waggle of her pierced brow, she vanishes from sight, shadow stepping high up in the air for starters while she tries to find another place to safely teleport to.

The communal gasp from the guardsmen is probably the most satisfying sound that Grimm has heard all day. Alas she teleports away in the middle of it, leaving the city guard to marvel at the Dark Miracle they've just witnessed.

Grimm rematerializes in the air above the city of Kikodda Yu, her blue eyes getting a chance to survey her aerial surroundings. She could always return to the mountains/forests surrounding the city. Or Grimm could move toward one of the factories belching steam and smoke into the otherwise beautiful skies over Kikodda Yu. Naturally she could just fly on until she finds another door to some other Place. Ultimately, however, Grimm is looking for another safe place to make good her escape from this realm, right?

Yes, and preferably a mattress factory in case she gets rubberbanded back into this realm. Or a pillow warehouse. Would that be too much to ask for?

It's a shame she missed out on the amazed, perhaps even worshipful gasps. Any of the amazed guards who potentially look up may catch a brief glimpse of Gabrielle sprouting black, feathery wings...just before she vanishes from sight again. This time, she cloaks herself from the sight of others and begins to glide towards the factories. She keeps her senses open, hoping to spot another door, or a safe place to try and make her own door and head home.

She's still thirsty from her time in the desert, and now beaten and tired from getting hurled into a building at top speeds during her reentry to this dimension. All she wants to do is go home, drink all the water, and rest/get hugs.

Alas, Grimm seems to have finally found a place where there are insufficient "doors" around her. She comes to land upon the roof of a brick and mortar factory in the lee of a smokestack belching thick clouds of grey-white smoke into the air. This seems like a good enough place to recollect herself mentally and physically.

Plus it has some kind of water collection and purification tower up here! With a tap!

Water! Fresh water, hopefully! Grimm lightly touches down, becoming visible again, her wings fading. That was exhausting. And served to only make her even more thirsty.

Too tired to shadow step, Gabrielle just walks over on foot. "Water...at last," she sighs with a parched throat. She cups one hand beneath the tap and slowly turns it with the other.

Machinery turns over with a heavy, cacophonous sound as Grimm activates the tap. There is an approximately thirty second pause before cool, clean water starts to flow from the tap and into her hand. She can probably drink Malcolm's fill from the tap at this point, if she so chooses, though that's mostly because the steam- and clockwork-driven device affixed to the water collector seems to operate separate from the main supply lines leading into the factory proper.

Luck is, apparently, not entirely frowning upon Gabrielle Grimm at the moment.

When Grimm finishes drinking her fill, turning off the spigot seems to be enough to deactivate the machinery. One of the two suns in the sky is starting to set, filling the western (northern?) horizon with blues and pinks and lavenders as the flaming orb dips gradually below the edge of the world.

Not subtle at all. But she doesn't care about the loud noises it's making. All she cares about is fresh, clean, quenching agua. Once Gabrielle's sure it's clean, she crouches enough to let the tap poor directly into her mouth.

She drinks too much, too fast, taking in gulps and gasping in between before finally shutting off the water and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. As she cleans up, she gazes at the enchanting sunset. She takes a few moments just to enjoy and observe as she lets her stomach settle from all the water she just gulped down.

One need taken care of, she can now focus on trying to go home again. Before anything else goes wrong while she's on her own. She closes her eyes, takes a centering breath, and tries to focus in piercing through the In Between.

There's no place like home. There's no place like home...

As the second sun sets, the shadows deepen around Grimm. Her rest stop seems to have recharged her batteries enough to risk another gauntlet run through the In Between. Grimm pierces the veil, her body sinking into a gathering bubble of shadows on the rooftop this time.

Once more unto the BREACH goes Grimm, moving more carefully through the In Between toward her home. Her path leads her away from the swirling eddies leading out into the voids that were once worlds and dimensions. A dozen million billion billion realms of Ditkospace are her stepping stones this time, allowing her to safely vector in toward that one point where she feels most drawn. Streamers of toxic black mass corral her onto an even tightening path through the In Between until, at long last, she sees the treacherous section of veil that denied her earlier.

Renewed physically, Grimm presses onward and against the veil into Malcolm's apartment. She rises up from the shadows of Malcolm's coat tree, pirouetting to squeeze herself through the veil and into the world as her film noir silhouette escapes into the reality of Earth-1 as she knows it. The Veil itself peels down her body, gradually allowing her to attain mass and color in the darkened interior of Malcolm's apartment.

How long has Grimm been gone anyhow?

That's a question that leaps to Grimm's mind as soon as she finds herself in a darkened apartment. For her, the adventures felt like...okay, probably some long hours. She didn't intend to leave him for so long or worry him. It was her every intention to try and find out what was going on in order to keep him safe. Hopefully, her navigational error didn't throw her too off course.

As Gabrielle's feet gently plant on the floor after squeezing out of the dimensional rift created by her will alone, her shadow sight starts to canvas the area in a silent, pulsing wave.

"Malcolm...? I'm back," she says quietly at first, feeling momentarily like an intruder.

Everything seems normal to Grimm's Shadow Sight. Nothing in particular seems out of place, save of course the lack of a Malcolm. Well, okay, the heavy punching bag over in the corner of the apartment has seen much better days. Grimm can feel the holes rammed through its dense fabric and the ruined densiplast-like insulation within it.

As Grimm finally regains her sense of the apartment and the city - of reality, really - she becomes aware of a presence at the very, very fringes of her perception. Malcolm(?) is seated on a motorcycle and staring into an alleyway. Is that the alleyway into which the sarkterran disappeared earlier? His motorcycle helmet is off and he appears to be absently draining some kind of cold liquid from an enormous bioplastic cup as he stares down the alley.

Gabrielle's face falls a little as she senses the condition of the punching bag. She must've really upset Malcolm for him to punish it that badly. She'll have to get him a new one for Christmas. Maybe one with a meta rating if she can swing that.

As her senses spread beyond the confines of the apartment, she spots Malcolm. Out, alone, near where the Sarkterran rift was! It may not be safe!

She vanishes from Malcolm's apartment in an instant. She has eyes on the alley, so she shadow steps easily, appearing in a smokey swirl of shadows and whispers a few meters before Malcolm.

"Mal! You shouldn't be here alone. What if those things come back?"

Gabrielle may be overly worried due to the things she knows. She looks a little more sun-kissed than she did before, her time in the sun showing.

Malcolm startles as Grimm appears in the shadows of the alley in front of him. His bioplastic cup flies awkwardly into traffic, spilling its cola-looking contents all over the cold pavement of the street before a car runs roughshod over the cup itself, grinding the material into the asphalt over a twenty foot stretch. A moment after the cup goes flying, Malcolm topples over backward, off the side of his bike, leaving the motorcycle between himself and Grimm.

"Jesus, Gabrielle! Where have you been? It's been days!"

The tall man slowly rolls out of the shoulder of the street - over his own shoulder - and onto his feet in the actual roadway. Malcolm takes a step or two forward, planting one boot on the seat of his motorcycle before he launches himself across the remainder of the intervening distance. Grimm and her desert tan are tackled clean off of her feet and swept up into an enormous Malcolm bear hug in one fell swoop.

"Days!?" she asks as her eyes go wide. The shock and guilt hit her. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Handsome. I thought it was a few hours--"

Gabrielle never stood a chance.

She's tackled so fast, she's almost swept right out of her shoes. And she's never been happier to see Malcolm.

Gabrielle sinks into the bear hug, curling into it as she slides her arms around him and hugs him as tight as she can. Not that it could ever compare to Malcolm's wonderful bear hugs.

"I didn't mean to be gone so long, Handsome. Things didn't really go smoothly..."

"Time runs different between here and there," murmurs Malcolm as he squeezes and spins with Grimm in his arms. There is a distinct chance this hug is even more emotionally draining than the one that followed rescuing Grimm from DEMON. He holds onto Gabrielle tight and plants a few kisses on her cheek and forehead while he spins to and fro at the mouth of the alley.

"God, beautiful. You had me so worried. You didn't get hurt did you? Did you run into sarkterrans? You ran from the sarkies, didn't you? Jesus, Gabrielle. Where have you been?"

Gabrielle's feet fly out as he spins her around. She restrains a happy squeal as she hangs on tight and is granted welcome home kisses. "God, it's good to be back, Handsome. I'm so sorry I worried you. I just wanted to keep you safe."

She showers Malcolm with apology kisses in return. "No, I didn't run into any sarkies. I thought I was going to find out who was sending them. And maybe I did. But I ran into a bunch of things in between."

Gabrielle settles into giving him a tight squeeze again. "I thought I was going to end up in the Colavrassa. But instead I ended up in some huge cavern with a dragon! Well, he called himself a Sauras..." she begins her tale.

The word 'Sauras' stops Malcolm dead in his tracks, eyes wide, and he lets Grimm slide down his body to her own two feet again. Malcolm stares Grimm dead in the eye as he inquires, "You didn't trade with it did you?"

"I...I...um. Weeeell," Gabrielle starts to look nervous as she tries to remember if she traded. "He told me some things. Said I owed him a debt. He was pretty angry at me. He said something, too. Something he said you might understand. 'Nicht Saura tricht-da'." Malcolm's interrogated enough mooks to know Gabrielle's not telling the full story just yet.

To be fair, Malcolm hasn't let Grimm tell the full story yet. He interrupted almost immediately after she started to summarize her trials and tribulations in another world.

"Never trade with a Sauras," grates Malcolm when Grimm says that phrase.

He pulls her in tight against his body and just squeezey hugs Gabrielle for what seems like an hour.

"It's supposed to be more meaningful in the Old Tongue, but I think the message gets across. Sauras are rare and ancient and stupidly powerful, baby. If it says you owe it a debt, it's going to collect on that debt. I... I don't know how. I can't imagine how it'll collect from there..."

Malcolm trails off and finally releases Grimm from the power bear hug. He sighs quietly and leans in to kiss her on the forehead.

"C'mon. Let's go somewhere warm and dry. You can tell me about it when we're comfortable."

Grimm starts to worry as Malcolm holds her tight. "So...this is bad, then. I didn't know I was trading anything. I thought we were just talking and I pissed him off. I guess what he told me was what I was trading for, considering he said it wasn't free." She gulps slightly as she's released and gazes up at him as she's kissed on the forehead. "He said my life wasn't free, either. I think he was planning on blasting me before I got the hell out of there. There's dimensional doorways hidden all over. I managed to slip through one at least."

She offers a weak smile up at Malcolm. "Alright, let's go somewhere comfortable and safe. I could use the rest."

Malcolm holds onto Grimm as she rambles on with her tale. He looks, to the reader, as though he got punched in the gut. To Grimm, Malcolm just looks emotionally drained and terribly, terribly glad to have her back in his arms. Planting a kiss on Grimm's forehead again, Malcolm gently pivots to let her lead the way toward the motorcycle.

"S'okay, beautiful. You're not going anywhere a Sauras can get you. Hopefully it'll just forget the debt or whatever."

Wishful thinking, maybe. Certainly a powerful, insulted dragon would forget the dark child that invaded his home and spoke unthinkingly.

Gabrielle's hand drifts down towards Malcolm's hand as she leads the way to his Motorcycle. At least he had his baby to keep him company. "You're right, Handsome. I'm sure it'll be fine somehow. He's stuck way across the multiverse."

Malcolm tangles his hand with Grimm's, following her to the motorcycle. He lets her saddle up first before he slides himself onto the bike with a gentle groan of the suspension. Pulling on his helmet again, Malcolm unleashes a few cables to replace his hand in Grimm's grasp as well as to secure her to his back. The tall man turns the key on the bike and revs the throttle a few times as she settles in back there.

Grimm smiles as Malcolm's hand intertwines with hers briefly. She gives his hand a squeeze before it's swapped with a those cables. They get a warm squeeze as well.

Gabrielle swings her leg over the bike and settles in behind him, picking up her spare helmet and pushing it down on her head. Once she's settled in, she wraps her arms around Malcolm's waist and pulls herself securely against him as the cables do the rest.

Once Malcolm is sure that Grimm is secure, he revs the engine once more time. Promptly, Malcolm pulls the bike out into traffic and roars up the block. He takes a complex series of left turns over the course of the next five minutes - damn you long traffic lights! - before zooming back down the street they started on, racing back toward his apartment.

It doesn't take too long for Malcolm to pull into the garage - he's patched the Eighth and sarkterran holes in the bay doors with heavy duty wooden panels - and park the bike. He pops his helmet off with a cable while his hands are busy turning off the engine. Looking over his shoulder at Grimm, Malcolm smilingly inquires, "You enjoy the tanning experience?"

"Well, the Colavrassa wasn't as hot or cold as I remember. But it was still a desert. I've never been so thirsty so fast in my life," Gabrielle comments as she pulls off her helmet, shaking her head to let her hair fall back into place naturally from helmt-hair. She pats her cheek experimentally to feel the sunburn. Her face is a bit pinkish red along her cheeks, nose, and forehead. As she presses her finger against her cheeks, the skin turns pale, then quickly return to flushed red when the pressure is released.

"I think I'm going to need something for that later. But maybe it'll give me some nice color?" she looks on the bright side of wandering a desert waste.

"You already have a nice color," remarks Malcolm. He grins at Grimm, replacing his cables with one of his hands. The tall man tangles his fingers with Grimm's again as he steps up close to her. Regarding Gabrielle seriously, Malcolm murmurs, "I'm glad you're back, Gabrielle. It's no fun not having you in my life."

Grimm's fingers weave with Malcolm's into a tight clasp. She smiles a smitten smile as he compliments her natural, Northwestern tan. "I'll be back to pale after several days locked inside catching up on classwork I missed."

As he steps close, Gabrielle has to tilt her head back signicantly to gaze up at him. Her lips curl into a soft, guilty smile of apology. "I'm glad to be home, Mal. I didn't intend to be gone so long."

She thinks of what the Saurian said about Malcolm's curse. The stain on his soul that threatens to drag her into the punishment Fate has in store for Malcolm.

Raising her free hand to cup his cheek, she murmurs, soft and solemn. "I missed you, even though it was only a few hours for me. And I have no intention of not being in your life."

Malcolm squeezes Grimm's hand in his own and leans his head gently into her other hand. There is a soft sigh as he regards Grimm, an expression of calm and serenity starting to spread across his face. Closing his eyes for a few moments, Malcolm just cherishes this moment, the sound of Gabrielle's voice, and the words she says.

"But you're home. You got free of the Sauras unscathed and you didn't bump into any sarkterrans. That's the important thing."

Gabrielle gently strokes his cheek with her thumb as he closes his eyes and relaxes, smiling softly. "Yep. Home, for now. Still free and no sarkterrans.

"But, there was a lot of other stuff. Which may require we get comfortable and relax before getting into it," she adds gently, not wanting to worry Malcolm too much. So she uses her sugar-coated tone to make the suggestion.

"Mm. Okay. Couch, beer, cuddles, take two," murmurs Malcolm. He knows what Grimm is doing, but he's accepting it. Why wouldn't he want to be comfortable and/or have a beer while his girlfriend tells him stories of her adventure in a land he thinks he knows so well? It's only natural.

Languidly, perhaps even reluctantly, Malcolm opens his eyes again. He tips his head to one side, planting a kiss on Grimm's fingers before he turns bodily and starts leading the way up the stairs to the apartment proper. Gently, Malcolm squeezes Grimm's other hand in his own, reassuring himself of her reality.

Grimm keeps close behind Malcolm, still clutching his hand. Yep, solid, real, here. With him. He's certain of that.

Well, as certain as one can with a girlfriend with powers of deception and nightmare.

Equally unwilling to let Malcolm go with what she's learned, though, she squeezes back tightly to hang onto him. "Man, after what I've been through, that sounds like the best idea in the whole multiverse," Gabrielle smiles warmly. She could go anywhere. See anything. And all she wants to do is cuddle up with Malcolm and relax.

If only the news she had were relaxing. But then, we wouldn't have a comic book then, would we?

Malcolm unlocks the apartment door and pulls Grimm through with him, directly into a twirling hug. Grimm's feet may have been used to kick the door shut behind the duo. Holding Grimm close and warm and off of her feet for a few moments, Malcolm just sort of stares into Grimm's eyes while the artist on this issue tries to resist the urge to make a straight up shoujo manga reference with sparkly eyes and the vast, featureless ninja plain in the background.

Somehow the artists resists the compulsion. Grimm and Malcolm may, however, still see sparkles. Malcolm is shedding glitter again. This may be a stress related condition.

"What's your poison, beautiful? Mi cerveza es su cerveza."

Pulled off her feet, Gabrielle's impulsively flailing leg knocks the door shut behind them. The door thuds closed solidly and securely.

Gabrielle smiles and laughs happily in the twirl, coming to rest within the hug and gently draping her arms around his neck. She gives him a million-watt smile as she gazes into his eyes.

After adoringly gazing up at him for a few moments and just enjoying his presence, her arms shift and tighten around his shoulders as she draws herself upward to lightly press her forehead against his again and close her eyes. A happy sigh escapes her.

Her chin tilts up to plant a soft kiss that deepens slowly. For it only being a few hours for her, you'd think it was a lifetime. When she slowly ends the kiss and pulls away, her eyes blink open slowly, and her smile positively glows. As does most of her face. Wait, that shimmer. Did someone hit her with fairy dust? No, it's just her sparkling boyfriend.

"Got any belgian whites?" she asks hopefully. She has a thing for the malty beers.

Malcolm hangs onto Grimm, returning the kiss with a slow boiling passion of his own. After several long moments in the embrace, Malcolm slowly lowers Grimm to her feet again. He lets out a long, content sigh of his own and grins lopsidedly at Gabrielle. Rolling his shoulders, Malcolm replies, "I'll check for you, beautiful. No promises though."

Who knows what one will find in Malcolm's fridge. Just remember that fiasco with Dio Anchovie, The Pizza That Walks Like a Man? Malcolm spent a month cleaning the cheese and fish out of the corners of his apartment.

Reluctantly, Malcolm disentangles himself from Grimm and starts to make his way toward the fridge.

That was the month Gabrielle insisted any at-home dates would be at her place. Which isn't too bad, except for the roommate that kept telling them to get a room, and the ghost couple in the attic that took an interest in seeing who Grimm was dating. Not that Malcolm could see them. But he got the distinct impression of being watched and silently judged.

"If not, really anything alcoholic would be great," she says as he releases her. She seems just as reluctant to be parted. To do her part, she heads over to the couch to get things comfy for the two of them before flopping back down onto it. She stretches her arms across the back of the couch, her head resting back to gaze at the ceiling. After a moment to relax and not having Malcolm's eyes to gaze into, her mind wanders to the troubling things she has to tell.

"I'm...probably going to have to go back there. But not alone," she says quietly.

Malcolm tries to straighten up while his head is in the fridge. There is a loud THUD followed by a loud BANGCRASH as the fridge slams back into the floor. Yelping in awkwardly pained surprise, Malcolm drags himself free of the fridge to look back at Grimm. One hand rubs a baggie of nondescript cold cuts against the back of his head as Malcolm squints at Grimm from across the apartment.

"Why?! Why do you, of all people, have to go back there?"

Grimm's shoulders hunch up at the cacaphony of noises from the kitchen. Then she stretches out her neck to look over the couch towards Malcolm. "Because," she says sorrowfully, "There's a lot of bad things happening over there."

That deflates Malcolm in a hurry. He slumps, heavily, over the kitchen counter and peers at Grimm whilst still rubbing a bag full of coldcuts over the back of his head. Malcolm sighs heavily and inquires, "What kind of bad things? What happened while you were there?"

"I thought we agreed couch, beer, and cuddles first," Gabrielle smiles sympathetically. "Can I help you, Handsome? That looked painful," she adds with a sympathetic wince. She scoots about on the couch to make room for him for starters. "And...lots of awful things. I don't even know where to start. There's some ruler called the Blue Sovereign who's hunting someone who stole something from him. The Saurian said he could smell the thief on me..."

Malcolm grunts at Gabrielle's sympathetic words. He knows a deflection when he hears it, but he did, technically, say those things. The tall man grudgingly turns around to rummage around in the fridge some more as he listens to Gabrielle's words.

"Saura. Metal Earth didn't have Saurians, just Sauras. They're sort of like dragons, if dragons were second cousins to gods. Or, at least, that's what Taniome made them out to be like."

Finally triumphant, Malcolm closes the fridge door. He traipses over to the couch and sprawls down on it, landing with his head on Grimm's legs. Reaching up, Malcolm offers a bottle of toasted lager to her while his other hand works on popping the top off of a bottle of Irish stout. One of these days, Gabrielle Grimm will learn where Malcolm gets these mix and match six packs... One of these days...

"That sounds about right. He didn't really introduce himself by name," Grimm comments after Malcolm sprawls and rests his head on her lap. She accepts the lager from him with one hand, while her other gently strokes his head, careful of where she thinks he bumped it.

"So, the Sauras smelled the thief on me. The thief's got this curse of fate on their soul. A stain from the curse of an old god named Vreckna." As she starts to explain, the cap of her bottle is surrounding by a black aura and twists off by itself before floating over to the coffee table. Gabrielle takes a much needed sip.

Malcolm makes a face at Grimm's tale. His own bottle top finally pops off, semi-explosively, and lands somewhere on the floor. For the moment, Malcolm doesn't seem interested in retrieving it.

"And how exactly did you get fate-cursed thief stink on you?" inquires Malcolm. The wording almost sounds jealous, but Malcolm himself just sounds confused. Confounded, even. Is he missing part of the story?

Grimm strokes his head slowly and gives him a soft, sad smile. She still remains indirect, because she doesn't really know how to tell Malcolm properly. "By being close to them. Very close. The Sauras said it was the one nearest to my heart," she says gently, her voice carrying a sorrow with it. "The thief doesn't even know they took something. It wasn't on purpose. But out of random bad luck, they were cursed by fate."

"Who accidentally steals some old god's curse of fate without knowing it?" inquires Malcolm. He takes a long swig of his stout and then pauses, staring up at Grimm intensely. There is a still longer pause before Malcolm swallows. "Did Porter walk off with a cursed artifact during one of his accidental teleports through other dimensions?"

"No, no, the curse wasn't what was stolen. It's just a way to identify the thief. Like saying a thief with a scar on his face took something. It wasn't Porter," Gabrielle tries to explain, before chewing on her lower lip. Although, that is not a hard thing to imagine.

The hand stroking Malcolm's head slides along his shoulder down to his chest, resting over his heart. She looks over his aura, and to that small mark she thought was nothing before. Normal.

"I didn't think anything of it before. Thought it was just part of your aura," she starts gently. "But I tried coming back earlier. I saw you beating up your punching bag. I reached out to touch you and say I was home. How long ago was that for you, by the way?" she asks curiously. "Sorry, getting sidetracked. So then, the mark reacted with my powers and threw me back across dimensions to that realm again. Stuck me back there and got me in trouble with the guard."

She pauses, realizing maybe she just needs to be direct.

"It's you, Handsome. You're the thief..."

"Are you sure it's not Porter? I mean, I love the guy to death but sometimes schick just happens around him..."

Malcolm trails off as Grimm's hand comes to rest over his heart. His mouth hangs open slightly as his grey eyes pan up toward Grimm's lovely blues, studying the way she studies him. Grimm can feel the dull pulsations of Fate, that almost insignificant mark half-hidden inside of the vibrant cascade of colors and life force. She can feel the faint sizzle as the fringes of that mark repulse her own dark magical energies.

"You... You touched me?" Malcolm's voice is small and confused. He seems to be trying to remember something. Tipping his head to one side, Malcolm murmurs, "Yesterday... I was beating on the heavy bags yesterday. And I felt... I don't know. It was like I was plugged into an arc welder for a few seconds."

There's a long pause as Malcolm stares up into Grimm's face. She can see the moment when Malcolm accepts the reality of her words. He looks somewhere between crestfallen and confused, like a kid that just learned Santa's not real.

"I didn't steal jack schick from anybody, Gabrielle. I don't steal stuff. And I sure as hell didn't come back from Metal Earth with cursed artifacts."

"Well, I tried to touch you," Grimm explains. "Sorry if it hurt. I wasn't trying to hurt you. It was the reaction with Vreckna's Stain. If it makes you feel better, I really whacked my head when I was spit back out into that dimension."

Her brow furrows slightly as the mark tries to repulse her. "I know you aren't a thief, Handsome," her hand slides back up to cup his cheek. "It's not something you took on purpose. And it's not a physical item. It may even have been given to you. It's a blessing of metal, the Sauras said. Something about the one true hero for the Colossan people."

"It doesn't make me feel any better that you got hurt," replies Malcolm. He sets his beer down on the floor and reaches up to caress Grimm's cheek with one hand. The tall man stares up at her, eyes wide and confused as she keeps trying to explain. Malcolm eventually just closes his eyes and breathes deeply, slowly.

"You know this sounds completely nuts, right? I mean, I'm not the only one here that thinks this sounds completely cracked off an Alzheimer's patient's rocker, am I?"

"I'm alright now, Handsome. I'm home with you," Gabrielle smiles warmly at him, despite the gravity of the conversation. She can't help but chuckle a little at his talk of how nuts this sounds. "Welcome to my world. I know I sound crazy. Trust me. You're not the first one to think that. I had a freaking Dragon tell me all this, then throw about dire warnings of how there was a taint of rot on my soul, and that if I gave you to the Blue Sovereign, he might get rid of it for me as a reward. Like hell I would be interested."

She takes a breath, then a sip of her beer. A long, deep sip. After swallowing, she says, "It gets weirder, Handsome. The Blue Sovereign...he's been hunting down the Colossans. That's why I need to go back. Maybe we both do."

"Colossans?"

Malcolm seems a little confused.

"Blue Sovereign?"

There's a look of utter non-comprehension on Malcolm's face. He knits his brows together and plaintively looks at Grimm, waiting for her to explain.

"The metal people. Like Taniome? They're being oppressed. Put in labor camps. The Sauras said their people were almost gone, Handsome," Gabrielle says softly, her expression sad and pained as she continues stroking his cheek. He knows what Taniome means to him. "And the Blue Sovereign is behind it. I don't know much about him, except that he's after Blessing of Metal to gain more power."

"What in the world is "the Blessing of Metal", Gabrielle? How could I have stolen it, intentionally or otherwise?"

Malcolm has a patently pained expression on his features. This is clearly not how he was expecting tonight to go; what he was expecting is open to debate, but this clearly is not at all what he thought might come of tonight. He flexes his hands into fists, beads of biometal straining out of his pores as he stares plaintively up into Grimm's eyes, begging for more information.

"Taniome and his people were... Colossans? Not Colossuses? Colossii? Col... I don't know. Colossans, huh? I feel bad for calling it Colossus' Flesh all this time."

"I don't know, Handsome. I wish I had learned more, but I barely got away before getting burned to a crisp by that Sauras. I didn't even learn how the Sarkterrans were getting here, or why. Maybe I really should've stayed longer and tried to find out more information," Gabrielle continues to cup his cheek in her hand, her thumb beginning to stroke it gently.

"For all I know, Taniome gave it to you when you left. Secretly." Her hand slides down from his cheek, along his shoulder and down his arm to his hands. As her finger tips glide over his biometal flesh, she comments, "For all I know, this could be the blessing of metal. Sometimes magic is weird. Well, most of the time, it is. Price keeps saying I stole half the power that was meant to be all his. I don't know how I did it. And it wasn't even my goal. I was just trying to stop his evil plan with what life I had left."

She smiles sadly. "Colossans is what the locales of that place called them. Not sure if that's correct, even. It could be a slur for all I know. Colossans seemed persecuted. Heck, they called me an escaped slave because of my piercings. So I could've misunderstood."

"You did what you could, beautiful. It's more than you should have done on your own," murmurs Malcolm. He tips his head to one side, kissing Grimm's forearm as she cups and strokes his cheek. The tall man closes his eyes and just sprawls, boneless and emotionally exhausted, across the couch.

Despite Malcolm utterly relaxing, his hands remain coated in biometal to just about the wrist. Malcolm just sighs quietly at Grimm's hypothesis and her explanation. Vaguely, Malcolm nods his head in apparent understanding of her words. Shifting one arm, Malcolm gently grips Gabrielle's hand with biometal-coated digits.

"No. Colossan makes sense."

Pausing a beat, Malcolm slowly opens his eyes and looks up at Grimm's face again. With a sad little smile, Malcolm inquires, "They're really in a bad way, babe? My friends? ... I mean... Y'know... My Colossans...?"

"Yeah, I think really bad, Handsome. Just going on what I heard. I didn't see any for myself. That's why we should go back there. Maybe bring some friends. Or an army if we can," Gabrielle speaks softly as she clasps his hand in return, weaving her fingers around his. She smiles at the kiss on her arm, wishing she could kiss him back more easily. But try as she might, she's not -quite- flexible enough to lean down and kiss him while his head is in her lap.

As a substitute, she squeezes his hand gently, then lifts his hand to her lips to gently kiss the back of his hand. She wedges her beer bottle between the cushions to free up her other hand, which drapes around Malcolm and rests on his chest.

She just holds him for several moments with her lips pressed and held against the back of his hand, struggling with her conscience on whether she should tell him everything. Half of her worries if she told him, he'd be afraid of hurting her or others and isolate himself. It's the sort of heroic, potentially self-sacrificing thing he'd do.

Still, she has him held to her. And she doesn't want to lie to him by omission. "There's something else the Sauras said about this stain of Vreckna on your soul. Something separate from the Blessing of Metal. It's just random bad luck to get it. Nothing you deserved, Handsome," she says gently with her lips resting against his hand. Gabrielle lowers his hand on his chest to join near her other hand, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.

When she speaks again, her voice is soft and reluctant to be heard past her lips. "On top of causing Fate to try and kill someone with Vreckna's stain, being around someone with the stain for too long can drag someone into the same punishment from Fate as the bearer of the mark." She has that awful realization weight fully on her. The concept of Fate trying to do what it can to punish or end Malcolm. Like hell she's going to let that happen.

Malcolm senses the importance of the words Gabrielle is holding onto long before she opens her mouth. He just stares up at her, letting the smooth warmth of his biometal rest against her lips. The tall man watches and waits, trying to stay relaxed against Grimm. Securely held in Gabrielle's arms - and his own hand - Malcolm's brows knit together in obvious tension.

"So... So there's this stain on my soul and, just because I have it, Fate wants to gank me?" Malcolm pauses and stares up at Grimm. "And, on top of that, this stain will inevitably spread to anyone who gets too close to me? To innocent people who are just... Just in my life?"

There is a lengthy pause as Malcolm stares up at Grimm. He works his arm off of his torso and out of Gabrielle's grasp so that he can wrap it around her shoulders. Malcolm pulls her into as tight a hug as he can manage from this position, burying his face in Grimm's torso as he roars defiance, muffledly, into her shirt. It may be better than breaking down in tears at the very concept of this kind of spiritual torture.

At least Malcolm picked up on it quickly, but it pains Gabrielle to be the bearer of bad news. She used to think she was cursed before she met Malcolm. He's the one person who makes her feel normal and loved. Which is why she isn't letting go.

"Yeah, sounds like you understand. And yeah, it'll spread to others if they're in its presence for too long. I just don't know how long is 'too long'," she says gravely.

As he starts to maneuver her arm away from her hand, she's afraid he's going to pull away. What she doesn't expect is for him to pull her closer. She wraps her arms around him as tight as she can, holding him securely as he bellows out his pain. Turning her head, she lowers it and manages to rest her cheek on the top of his head as she cradles him.

Rocking him gently, she murmurs once his roaring quietens. "I'm not leaving you, Mal. Not ever. And I'm not worried. It's not just a curse; it's a challenge to overcome. The Sauras said if you do great deeds, you could be freed of the curse. And I know you're a great man who's done a lot of great deeds, and who's going to do a lot more." Her voice has utter faith in his ability to overcome, combined with complete devotion to stay at his side. She kisses the top of his head as she rocks him to comfort him.

Malcolm just holds onto Grimm for a long time, his face buried in her shirt. Everything about his body language suggests psychic agony as he takes time to pull himself together. Thought bubbles keep popping up near his head, wondering about how many people have been hurt - killed!? - just because they were close to him or because he was in proximity to something that Fate felt it could bend toward killing him. He vasilates between seething rage and raw anguish constantly, his muscles quivering between each shift of mental attitude.

"What in the world could I have ever done, Gabrielle?" inquires Malcolm, his voice raspy and raw. He pries his head out of Grimm's shirt and looks up into Gabrielle's eyes, his own red and glistening with tears he hasn't quite managed to shed yet. "What could I have possibly done to deserve to have you in my corner? Why are you just... Why are you perfect for me?"

Grimm is there for as long as Malcolm needs. With each quiver comes another kiss and a squeezing hug of affection and love, accompanied by soothing cooing sounds.

When he pries away and asks her the question, the first thing she thinks is that he's asking 'why him?' And she doesn't have an answer. He's the least deserving of such an awful curse. It's just not fair, like many things involving magic and curses and bizarre fates/destinies.

With his face free of her shirt, which may now have some flecks of spittle from his defiant roars, she returns one hand to cup his cheek again. She can't help but smile down at him when he completes his question. She doesn't have a proper answer for that either.

"I ask myself that all the time, Handsome. You're the nicest, most heroic guy I know. And still so down to earth on top of it. If anyone ever did anything to deserve good things in their life, it's you."

Stroking his cheek affectionately, her quite smitten expression becomes a little sheepish. "I don't know if I'm good or bad for you, Mal. But you bring out the best in me. So I try to be my best for you. Don't know if perfect's the word for it. But I know it's the word for you. I love you. And I'm by your side no matter what."

"I love you, Gabrielle Grimm," murmurs Malcolm. His own smitten expression is spread across his face as he stares up into Grimm's eyes. A goofy smile spreads across his lips as he tips his head to kiss her hand as it brushes his cheek.

"Perfect's definitely the word I'll always use for you, Gabrielle. You're just you and, good or bad, you're everything I need." With a soft sigh, Malcolm glances away, his cheeks gaining a faintly ruddy color to them. "You're more than everything I could ever ask for and you're definitely more than I could ever have hoped to find."

Grimm's smile grows as he glances away with a blush. "Then maybe luck's on both our sides after all."

She gently pulls her cupping hand to only touch him with two fingers, softly pressing on him to make him look back at her. Her icy blue eyes are complimented with the warmth of her smile as she gazes into his eyes.

"You are amazing, Malcolm Gibbs. In every way I could list and more. You're fun, funny, sweet, caring, loving, kind, incredibly romantic, an awesome driver, a fantastic dancer, a great partner, the best darned hero there is, you have great tastes in music, and to top it all off, you're sexy as hell, and -amazing- in the shower."

That warm smile turns into a wide grin as she tries to add some levity to encourage more of Malcolm's lovable, goofy smiles. "You're seriously the perfect boyfriend. And I'll never figure out how I won the jackpot and found someone I love with all my heart and who loves me back. I'm just happy we found eachother."

"Aww c'mon, Gabrielle, you make me sound like I fell out of one of my granma'ma's Taylor Swift songs," murmurs Malcolm as his steely greys lock with her icy blues. The tall man is flush with color in his dark cheeks, lips quirked into the goofiest of grins. Slowly, Malcolm leverages himself up and twists his body awkwardly so he can wrap Grimm up in a tight, loving hug.

Grimm squeezes Malcolm, her arms wrapped around him to help support him in the awkward position. "Nahhh, those songs don't hold a candle to you, Mal." Now that he's more easy to get to, she plants a long, loving kiss on his lips. She pours in a lot of emotion into that kiss as they swirl about her mind. Suppressed worry over his curse, the Sarkterrans, what the Blue Sovereign may or may not know. And relief that she's home, with him in her arms, and that he didn't withdraw when she told him the tough news.

Finally, she needs to take a breath. Her lips pull away from his, but her forehead rests against his as a poor substitute. "Now I believe I promised beer and cuddles, and I plan to deliver that in spades."

She lifts a free hand and snaps her fingers while still supporting him with the arm angled beneath him. The TV switches on. Currently playing is a martial arts marathon, with the current movie starring Moshiro Tifune. "So how about some action flicks while we spend some time together?"

Gabrielle grabs one of the couch pillow cushions and places it on her lap to make it nice and comfortable for a night of lounging, beer, watching movies, and cuddles/pets to celebrate her return home.