CLOSED.

[OuEstLaCraie]

Stoker: A Biography of the Author of Dracula
The Astonishing Adventures of Bram Stoker!
A Superb (If Imagined) Tale of Inspiration, Travel, and One Author’s Long Road to Finding His Calling

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Abraham Stoker never traveled to Transylvania. And I wouldn’t be so bold as to say that he ever met an un-living Un-Dead. He seems to have been in contact with various famous authors of the time, though I doubt he was the type to share secrets late at night, tucked under a blanket with Oscar Wilde or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

But Abraham Stoker was, at some point, just a young man and, like many young men (and young women), he was probably just as lost and confused upon being forced to leave his school days far behind in favor of pursuing real life as any of us are. Why not take that confusion to the extreme? Why not make life a personal quest to overcome your fears and find what is best in yourself, and to use your talents to the fullest?

Why not re-tell a life as you imagine it, if it’s for the sake of teaching others to reach for the stars and follow their hearts and all those other lovely clichés? And why not have a Victorian author become an inspired hero in his own right?

It’s an unauthorized biography…read into it what you will.

[OuEstLaCraie]

The Story A Boy Becomes a Man, A Dream Becomes Reality, An Idea Becomes an International Success...

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It's the summer of 1870 and, after weeks of travel from his beloved Ireland, Abraham "Bram" Stoker is, at last, on the cusp of his grand adventures. He finds himself far from the security of family, friends, or school, alone in the world for the first time in his life and boarding a train speeding from Paris, France to Budapest, the Gateway to the East. Along his travels, he will meet a cast of characters whose quirks, skills, and romances will, one day, become the basis of his famous novel, Dracula.

Earlier in his life, at Trinity College, Bram met and befriended fellow future author, Oscar Wilde, who will appear later in the tale when, in true, manly fashion, an arguement erupts over a girl. Bram gets the girl; they both get the fame. But what happened between the beginning of adventure and the beginning of success?

It's up to you. Choose a character outline and, from those brief notes, create one of the people who will shape one man's writing career and literary history. Continue reading for rules & regulations, the character outlines, and important notices that may pop up from time to time.

[OuEstLaCraie]

Rules & Regulations

1 ♦ This should go without saying, but follow the Gaia Terms of Service. Keep language, gore, and violence to a minimum, and to when their use is necesscary. I understand they're necesscary evils, but don't let it get out of hand, or punishment will be swift and final. PG-16, tops--if you feel it's going beyond that, either drop the subjefct or take it to private messages, if you really feel the need to.

2 ♦ This is a LITERATE roleplay. That means replies are in paragraph form, with minimal errors and following the conventions of proper written English (or whatever your language of choice is). Minimum two to three paragraphs, with 5 to 7 sentences each. Dialogue has quotes, sentences end in periods, spelling and grammar should be as near to perfect as is possible for you. ABSOLUTELY NO CHAT SPEAK. I swear to God, if I see even one LOL, you're done. And please, NO ONE-LINERS.

3 ♦ Profile submissions should follow the provided profile skeleton, to be found in the next post. Any submissions lacking the structure I created will be ignored. Please, title your PM for submission Stoker's Adventures--it really just makes organization and replying easier.

4 ♦ Keep in character. I would prefer little or no OOC conversation, to avoid cluttering the thread with personal discussions. If you feel the need to tell someone something that is long than one sentence and that does not pertain to the thread, please, send them a private message. Who wants to splatter their personal business across a roleplay thread, anyway?

5 ♦ Be COURTEOUS. This goes along with rule #1, but, please--no flaming, bad-mouthing, or otherwise insulting a fellow roleplayer when out of character. Also, if you're going to be unable to post for more than a week or so, please let me know so we can work around your abscense and be ready and waiting for you when you get back.

6 ♦ I sound terrible right now, don't I? I do apologize, but I have to lay down the law to keep everything running smoothly (and to keep any of you or myself from getting into trouble). Always remember, I am here to help--PM me with any questions or concerns. I want this to be fun for all of us; when OuEst is happy, everyone will enjoy things much more.

7 ♦ Posting is up to you, in terms of font size (nothing too big, though, please, or too small) and decorations (pictures, icons, etc. are encouraged, but not mandatory). All I ask is that when your character speaks, their words are in your chosen posting color and bold. Thoughts should be italicized. And leave narration and descriptions in the usual black font.

8 ♦ PLEASE make sure you use period-appropriate speech and vocabulary. It doesn't all have to by holier-than-thou Victorian novel-worthy, but just keep in mind that Bram Stoker would not be walking around saying, "Yo, bitches, le's kick it! We gonna slay some bloodsuckin' mothas!" That would just be silly. Thank you : ]

**Rules subject to change and alteration--keep a sharp eye out!

[OuEstLaCraie]

Profile Skeleton

[imgright]{Simple enough, no? A picture of your character. Real people, please. NO ANIME.}[/imgright]
[size=11]I'm known in these parts as:[/size] [size=16][color=postingcolor]{name}[/color][/size]
[size=9]But, friend, you may [color=postingcolor]call me[/color]:[/size] [size=11]{any applicable nicknames}[/size]
[size=9]I appear here as:[/size] [color=postingcolor][size=11]{your role in the story}[/size][/color]
[size=9]I am [color=postingcolor]currently[/color]:[/size] [size=11]{years of age}[/size]
[size=9]I was [color=postingcolor]born[/color]:[/size] [size=11]{birthdate}[/size]
[size=9]And I [color=postingcolor]hail from[/color]:[/size] [size=11]{country of origin}[/size]

[size=9]My creator:[/size] [size=11][color=postingcolor]{username}[/color][/size]

[size=9]I hold these [color=postingcolor]words[/color] close to [color=postingcolor]my heart[/color]:[/size] [size=11]{Your character's personal motto--any quote, song lyric, or line from a poem that you feel best describes your character or their life, or simply inspired you in your creation of the character.}[/size]

[align=right][size=13]The pen that writes your [i][b][color=postingcolor]life story[/color][/b][/i] must be in your own hand.[/size]
[size=9]{Biography, please. About two or three paragraphs should suffice. More will be much appreciated. Include any aspect of the character you deem necesscary: hopes, goals, dreams, personality quirks, family life, social status, etc. Feel free to elaborate on character traits, reasons for their traveling/hunting/hanging around, and any other pertinent lifestyle choices. Include a brief description of his or her appearance if any part of it differs from the picture you chose.}[/size][/align]

[size=11]I thoroughly [color=postingcolor][i][b]enjoy[/b][/i][/color]:[/size]
[size=9]{Likes, in a listed format, please, as shown.}
[color=red]♥[/color] Likes
[color=red]♥[/color] Likes
[color=red]♥[/color] Likes[/size]

[size=11]I utterly [color=postingcolor][i][b]despise[/b][/i][/color]:[/size]
[size=9]{Dislikes, of course. Again, in a list.}
[color=gray]▼[/color] Dislikes
[color=gray]▼[/color] Dislikes
[color=gray]▼[/color] Dislikes[/size]

[align=right][size=13]It's better to have [color=postingcolor][b][i]loved[/b][/i][/color] and [b][i][color=postingcolor]lost[/color][/i][/b]...[/size]
[size=9]{Former, current, or anticipated romances. Put all your character's relevant relationship information here, including marital status, children, chosen sexual preference, etc., etc.} [/size][/align]

[size=11]You'll [color=postingcolor]know me[/color] by:[/size] [size=13]{[color=postingcolor]POSTING COLOR NAME HERE[/color]}[/size]

{Here, please find or make two icons of your character (100 pixels by 100 pixels), for recognition. If you can't find any and don't know how to make them, let me know and I'll do what I can to help. Erase these instructions before submitting, please : ] }[imgright]{Icon #1}[/imgright][imgright]{Icon #2}[/imgright]

It looks crazy, I know, but it really isn't. It's mostly me and my neurotic instructions : ]

Please delete the brackets and any instructions from the profile before entering it for approval.

[OuEstLaCraie]

The Authors

"Neither man nor God is going to tell me what to write."

| | Abraham "Bram" Stoker | |
{CLAIMED ♦ OuEstLaCraie}

♦ The hero of our story. He's a young man on the brink of adventure, of life. currently on a train on his way to Budapest and insanely excited at the prospects of tramping across the wilds of Romania. Once a sickly young boy, he has grown into a strapping Irish lad, ready to take on the world.

| | Oscar Wilde | |
{Available}
♦ A close friend of Bram's at Trinity College. The two keep in touch through letters while Bram's away, but they will meet again in London, years later, where they will argue over the beautiful Florence Balcombe, who is Wilde's girlfriend but becomes Stoker's wife.

[OuEstLaCraie]

Cast of Characters
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."

| | The Nutty Dutch Professor | |
{Available}
♦ Founder of the most renowned insane asylum in Amsterdam. Lost his only son many years ago and went into the mental health field when the boy's death drove his wife to insanity. Massively interested in all things mythical and occult--a regular walking encyclopedia on folklore. Still manages to be upbeat and tireless.

| | Romanian Vampire Huntress | |
{CLAIMED ♦ Supernatural Soul Natasha}

♦ Of noble birth; an orphan. Knows well the monsters lurking in the shadows, where the old superstitions still cling unerringly to reality. Attended school for many years before turning down a prince's marriage proposal and turning to hunting full-time.

| | Distinguished English Solicitor | |
{Available}
♦ Married with children, he is currently practicing law in Budapest. He specializes in helping Westerners keep their affairs in order in the Middle East and beyond. He enjoys spending time with his wife, sunsets, and long walks on the beack.

| | Hooneymooning American Husband | |
{Available}
♦ A rather quiet man, from a good family of old money in the United States. He and his new wife are currently enjoying the sights out of the French countryside, as they hunt for intrigue on the train to Budapest

| | Honeymooning American Wife | |
{Available}
♦ She's a spicy Cajun newlywed, bored with high society and shopping in Paris. She's definitely up for some adventure, and determined to bring her husband along for the ride.

[OuEstLaCraie]

{Reserved}

for Authors

I'm known in these parts as: Abraham Stoker
But, friend, you may call me: Bram
I appear here as: The Hero
I am currently: 22 years old
I was born: November 8
And I hail from: Ireland

My creator: OuEstLaCraie

I hold these words close to my heart: "We learn from failure, not from success!"

The pen that writes your life story must be in your own hand.
I did not always know I would be a wanderer. In fact, travel was the last thing on my mind! Oh, yes, I suppose I was something of a dreamer. But, you see, I was a very ill child, bed-ridden for many years of my youth, and in those years when I should have been dreaming of what was beyond my country's borders and reaching for the stars with my imagination, I prayed only to be well again. The most I hoped for from life was to live to see the next day. Morbid thoughts for a child, perhaps--but that is the truth.

At the age of seven, I began my school career and, thanks be to God, made a full and complete recovery. I took great joy in sports and the company of children my own age, and the "rolling hills of Ireland" worked their further magic. I must say, I grew to be quite a strong young man, and quick-witted. I was named University Athelete at Trinity College, where I obtained my university degree and developed my writing ability. That's another thing--I always enjoyed reading and imagining (even more so when I was not burdened with thoughts of my health and ailments), but writing was not always my passion. I sincerely enjoyed the theater, and do to this day. The writing came later, encouraged by an old professor after I wrote a composition he rather liked. My friend Os was always the author; he's a bit younger, but I feel I may have ridden a bit on his coat tails towards writing as a career.

Oh, what else to share, what else...? Well, I intend to record every step of this grand voyage. London was spectacular (even if I only spent a few short days there) and Paris was magnificent--City of Lights, indeed! But Budapest, I feel, shall prove to be the most exciting stop of them all. And then, beyond that...the wilds of Romania, perhaps the cold of Siberia, if I am lucky. Who knows? I may even make it all the way to the Far East! Imagine me, in China or Japan! Oh, but I'll be happy just setting foot in Romania--so steeped in lore, you can almost imagine those beasts the old woman gossip about are real. Safe travels, friends!

I thoroughly enjoy:
♥ the theater
♥ the hope of adventure
♥ the opportunities on the horizon
♥ Ireland--I miss it so!

I utterly despise:
▼ fools
▼ being under-estimated because of my few years
▼ writer's block

It's better to have loved and lost...
Hm. Well. Choosing a wife is quite a process, isn't it? I don't know why I'm ashamed to say, but I've never taken a lover. Oh, there were girls, now and again, but no one...special. It sounds like something so many people have repeated, but I honestly did not wish to waste my time and affections on a girl who was nothing more to me than a little pleasure on a lonesome evening. But I'll find her, someday, that woman who is out there, searching for me as I seek her out. I only hope that she's courageous, intelligent...and lovely.

You'll know me by: {#B22222, "firebrick"}

[OuEstLaCraie]

{Reserved}

for The Cast

I'm known in these parts as: Ellenora Lyrine Roy
But, friend, you may call me: Ellie
I appear here as: Vampire Huntress
I am currently: 24
I was born: October 16th
And I hail from: Romania

My creator: Supernatural Soul Natasha


I hold these words close to my heart: Why give up? Why give in? Its not enough, it never is. But life will go on until the end.

The pen that writes your life story must be in your own hand.
I wasn’t always a vampire. I was once a princess, living in a beautiful castle in Romania. Sweet, innocent, and certainly a bit spoiled by my loving parents. They were the royalty, second only to the king and queen. Since the king had no children of his own, it was predicted that either I or my younger brother would soon rule the land. However, the queen was spiteful and jealous of us, our whole sweet family. She sent us on a trip toward the south so we could enjoy time off from our duties. Excited, we boarded our train and picked out seats…and the guards then attempted to kill all of us. My parents were both murdered in front of my eyes when I was only 8 years old. I grabbed my 6 year old brother and jumped the train, praying to God they wouldn’t follow. They didn’t, assuming we’d die anyway.

Gone from princess to pauper, I had to take care of my brother and myself. I turned to stealing and begging. When I was 11 and my brother 9, he died of tuberculosis, despite my best efforts to prevent his disease. Even the doctors could not help by the time I took him to a hospital out of desperation. That was when I realized the same fate was lying in store for me and gave up. Starving slowly, it was then that I first met him. He offered me a new chance at life. He promised me my revenge, swore with a passion that I’d be unstoppable. Perhaps it was despair or greed, but I agreed. I told him I wanted it, whatever he would offer me I promised to accept. And he did. He gave me who I am now. Indeed, he gave me life.

Once I’d been transformed, my mysterious benefactor, the one who bit me and let me feed off his blood for my first week disappeared. I’ve never seen him since. He taught me the most important part of being a vampire: control. I learned all the legends, believed in all myths and stories. How could I not, living in one? When I felt the time was right, I went up to the castle where the barren queen was withering away and confronted her. Her blood tasted tainted and impure, but my thirst for vendetta was satiated. Inheriting my rightful throne (no one knowing I was the one who killed the queen), the current prince asked for my hand in marriage. However, I realized this was not the life meant for me. With only a tiny amount of regret, I declined his offer and left from the place that held my past. As its apparent from my scars, I don’t believe easily, though I do have good intuition in telling who I can trust and who I can’t. I feed on human blood, but never take enough to actually harm someone. I prefer to keep to myself, and my search for my savior, my new father, will never end. I hunt because I know that not all the things going bump in the night have a heart, and perhaps guilt plays a role as well.

I thoroughly enjoy:

♥ Independency
♥ Snow
♥ Philosophy

I utterly despise:

▼ Fire
▼ Bright Lights
▼ Loudness

It's better to have loved and lost...
If I will find someone, he must know of my truth and accept me as I am, knowing I have murder of the wretched queen in my hands. I have never truly fallen in love in the past. Even though I do prefer my silence and solitude, a companion wouldn’t be grudged. An endless existence does get lonely. The prince, though clever and strong, would never have worked for me because he was famous. I can’t attract attention to myself for fear of someone figuring out what I am. If he will have me, I would never deny him that right. But must he be human…?

You'll know me by: { #C45AEC }

[OuEstLaCraie]

{Reserved}

For Future Use

[OuEstLaCraie]

NOW ACCEPTING!

**You may begin posting as soon as your profile has been approved and posted in the thread.

[OuEstLaCraie]

ABraham Stoker is on the brink of ADVENTURE.


The train was loud, the cabin was cramped, and the company was less-than-stellar. But the lands flying past the window were indescribable--they made the trip worthwhile. With every passing hour, Budapest clattered into the distance and the mysterious East loamed closer. Ireland was left even far behind, though only in geography; it took more than miles to erase a man's homeland from his heart.

As had become a habit, the young man managed to pull his eyes away from the magnetic pull of the landscape and set his full attention back on his leathbound notebook. It was a marvelous piece of craftsmanship, done up in emerald-dyed leather with pages of silky cream and a strip of crimson ribbon to mark your place. Writing on the train was no simple feat, but he had perfected the art in the weeks since he'd left home. It was a necessity--otherwise, how could he possibly meet his mother's stated quote of at least two letters a week?

But this wasn't for his mother, or his father, or any of his brothers or sisters. Even the mates back home would have to wait. For as he uncapped his pen and went about the task of busily setting ink on paper, Bram Stoker was writing for himself. The book was full of his writings--half-imagined plots, character sketches for pale-skinned heroines and dashing young gentlemen, settings of grand palaces and comfortable cabins alike. He wrote third-person accounts of the day's exploits and first-person point of view short stories. He wrote poems. He wrote drafts of love letters no one would ever see. He wrote critiques of his favorite plays and told only the notebook about his hopes, dreams, and aspirations. He told the sweet-smelling pages everything he would have otherwise kept locked in his heart or in his mind. Writing was a relatively recent hobby, but he fancied himself rather good at the art, and set to work on another tale. It was insubstantial fluff, and he knew it--knights slaying dragons and rescuing princesses and enjoying the king's good favor--but he considered it practice and kept on writing. How could he ever improve if he never wrote a word which was in need of improvement?

Days later, the train screamed to a halt at a station in a small town just on the border of Romania. Bram leapt up eagerly and gathered his things, then disembarked to the wooden platform and breathed deep the country's air. The same air, surely, that was in Ireland or England or France, but how different it felt, rattling in his lungs! And how quaint and rustic the area was! These experiences, these leaps into the unknown, as he hiked or rode across the countryside, would surely bring with them inspiration. He would take note of every movement he made, every meal he ate, every person he met, and every new tongue he managed to learn a bit of (English could only get one so far in the world, after all). It was the very beginning of an adventure, and he planned to make the most of every moment.

"How blessed are some people, whose lives have NO FEARS, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams."

[Supernatural Soul Natasha]

Ellenora Lyrine Roy

» εℓℓιэ «

Ellie was running, barely out of breath, through the forest. It was always a bit annoying to have to run so deep into the forest so nobody saw her. The fact alone that she was running so fast would pale in comparison to the fact that she was a woman wearing a man's clothing. But if there was one thing Ellie could not stand was the frilly lace and dresses nearly all women wore. When she was younger, perhaps Ellie had enjoyed dressing up, but now it was only a nuisance and would get in the way. When attending a formal event, Ellie would find a beautiful dress, but in the meantime she had a mans loose pair of trousers, a black shirt, and a scarf. The scarf, she had thought was extremely pretty. It'd been lying in the street, getting trampled by carriages when Ellie picked it up and wrapped it around her neck.

Suddenly distracted by a sound, Ellie paused to hear the murmur of crowds, a whistle, and trains rattling. Aha. That means people, too many of them. Someone just might chance this way and see me here. Frowning, Ellie backed up a few steps into a tree's shade. With a quick leap, Ellie realized she climb up and be hidden in its magnificent bundle of leaves. Moving fast, she shimmied up it and found hersef confortable on a thick branch. Just as Ellie was settling in to spend a moment there until the station emptied, the scarf around her neck (which had gotten loose while she was climbing) fluttered off her skin and down.

Cursing in a way that was certainly unladylike, she reached down for it and hung on to the tree with her legs. Her pale face scratched against a dirty branch, leaving a long streak of mud up from her cheek to eye. Ignoring it, Ellie caught a few loose threads in the very tips of her fingers, and scrambled for the rest, but that then it fell anyway. Ellie froze, thinking she'd heard a sound. Was it footsteps or just the scarf falling? "Damn. If it is someone, they must have seen the scarf fall." She whispered to herself, not moving even to pull herself back up on the branch.

I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will e n d u r e the darkness because it shows me the stars.

[OuEstLaCraie]

ABraham Stoker is SEARCHING for the owner of a SCARF.

Bram's first steps away from the railroad platform were exuberant--downright bouncy, if truth be told. But as the lamplight faded behind him and the shuffling of a crowd of travelers grew fainter, he took the time to slow his steps and truly look at his surroundings. He was in a strange land where he would be lucky to find someone who spoke English, or maybe a little broken German to match his own poor understanding of the language. The rolling hills, beckoning the way to mountains and the wilds beyond, seemed sinister in pale moonlight, the forests mainly shrouded in pitch black darkness. He clutched his bags closer to his body and proceeded with greater caution.

Movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He turned quickly but neither saw, nor heard, anything. The trees rustled gently, perhaps in a wind too light to feel. And then, drifting through the air, came a scarf. Intrigued, Bram paced forward, studying the fine craftsmanship from afar before looking to his left and right and plunging deeper into the gloom. He stooped to rescue the accesscory, smiling in a friendly manner down at the woven threads. "Beautiful work, truly excellent; my first souveneir, perhaps, unless the owner appears. It will be a lovely keepsake to send back home to Mother." He looked around again, expecting said imagined owner to suddenly leap from behind a tree--but how silly the thought was! It was late, it was dark, and there wasn't a home in sight; who could have possibly forgotten their scarf? It had probably gotten lodged in a tree branch, then the wind had shaken it free for him to find.

"Good fortune for me," he murmured, and grinned as he bundled the scarf into a ball and tucked it safely into his suitcase. He was making ready to move off, readjusting his grip on his bags and glancing upward to fix the way his hat sat on his head, when he did a double-take into the tree's upper branches. Dear God, there was a boy in the tree!

"You there, boy!" he called, dropping his bags to wave a hand at the gloomy figure in the tree. "Come down here! It 'tisn't safe to be hanging from rickety old branches like a wild monkey--nor to be climbing in this deepest dark. Come down and we'll get you safely home."

"How blessed are some people, whose lives have NO FEARS, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams."

[Supernatural Soul Natasha]

Ellenora Lyrine Roy

» εℓℓιэ «

It was certainly annoying, the way her luck always seemed to turn for the worst. Hanging there in the tree, watching this stranger touch the scarf she had found, Ellie contemplated her options. She could stay up here- but what if this man decided to come climb up to investigate? Or decided to call out for help in getting the 'boy' down? Well then, I'll just have to think of something else to do.

Ellie could try making a run for it. She was certainly fast enough. But he would still catch her appearance and approximations. As it was, Ellie didn't want to leave behind any legends or myths for anyone. Of a speeding girl stranger through the forest, or a pale skinned beauty with sharp teeth dressed in a mans apparel.

More out of impulse than actual thinking, Ellie straightened up and leaped down out of the tree to land before the man who was glancing up curiously, but concern clear on his face. Reaching out, Ellie snatched the scarf from the mans hands and snarled viciously at him, "That belongs to me! It was certainly not your good fortune to have found it, but mine bad thrice. You need to learn to mind your own business, sir." Ellie sneered the last part, having once sworn that she would never let herself be governed by any other. Especially not a man.

To him, Ellie would appear to be a beautiful apparation who would disappear the moment he'd seen her. Ellie decided she should leave before anything else. But having turned her back to the man, Ellie paused for a moment to turn back to glance at the bewildered man. He wouldn't dare tell anyone of her, would he? Ellie wondered if she should chance it. Perhaps he could be her next meal... ah, yes. She began to turn around slowly.

I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will e n d u r e the darkness because it shows me the stars.

[OuEstLaCraie]

ABraham Stoker has already gotten himself into TROUBLE.

He realized how wrong his assumption had been as soon as the figure dropped from the tree to viciously snatch the scarf from his grasp and snarl angrily at him. No boy was this, Bram now saw--she was a girl, a woman, and a beautiful one. Something about her was almost...oh, what word could properly describe her? She was haunting, almost; etheral. He was sure he had never met such a woman and never would again. So, while the opportunity presented itself and what with him having nowhere better to be than in a dark forest in the very wilds of Romania, Bram managed a weak but friendly smile as the woman turned back to face him.

"Well, ehm, hello, fair maiden!" he began, setting his bags back on the ground and raising a hand in polite greeting. "My name is Abraham Stoker, originally of Dublin, Ireland. I am a traveler, a visitor to your beautiful and legendary country. It is an honor to make your acquaintance, miss, and I quite apologzie for the scarf incident. I did not know it had an owner--it appeared to be just another lost soul in this world." He smiled wider. "You know all that is polite for me to tell about myself. Now, what is your name, miss?"

"How blessed are some people, whose lives have NO FEARS, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams."