The cove was nowhere near a island resort, one which you'd assume when the word Bermuda was thrown around, and more like a damp basement or rustic wine cellar. Mindful of where she stepped, as it looked both slick and she wasn't sure what moisture might do to her shoes, she moved down the steps one by one before she was in a tiny room. The torchlight was not one she cared for, preferring tiki torches instead of such eccentric lighting. Aside from that, there were no exits, skylights, or any other notable thing about the room aside from the little shelves with little rocks that glowed. They looked the size of a eye-shadow palette with little pictures glowing blue.

Rubbing the bruise on her arm, she looked back up the steps and considered what Malkam and Mik had said. A weapon inside your head.

Moving over, she looked at the little pictures. Would she just grab one and use that as a claim ticket to get what she wanted. Nothing small, but nothing bulky. A gun would work if it was small enough, but as she looked not all of them looked like guns. Some looked like axes. Brutish. Bulky. Jagged and awkward. Some she couldn't make out what they were, but she could hear muttering. The boys from above? Some ambiance from the stonework and ocean? Or maybe the silence causing her ears to make up voices?

Maybe it was something more. Standing there, she slowly moved in a circle, the folds of her skirts rising up as she turned and turned and turned. Why couldn't she take more than one? Why couldn't she have three? Or 5? Why was there such a limit?

The one and only.....

She hummed now as she slipped her fingertips upon the stone shelves and moved about the room.

"Eeny Meany, Miney, Moe...."

She glanced as the muttering continued, whispering and talking. The little pictures flickered past her vision.

"Catch a tiger by his toe..."

You can do it.

The noises got louder. She walked forward, fingers gliding against the cold, rough surface as she let her eyes move up. High. Top shelf. That's where she needed to be.

"If he scream, let him go....."

Never quit. Push through it.

She paused as the noise continued, and she stopped to stare up. Maybe it didn't matter. She could alter whatever she didn't like. Paint. Accessories. Everything could be changed. Weapons were things.


"Eeny, Meny, Miney, Moe...."

Her heels pressed up on the shelf, nudging against another tablet with her shoes as she lifted herself up higher and rose her hand up. The humming came back, but not from her. It was louder here. Maybe once she had the rock, she broke it. Freed that blue light from it's square and see what diamond was inside.

"My mother told me to pick the very best one."

And she snatched up the tablet in her hand, hopping back to look at it in her hands. It was small, could fit into a purse, but otherwise just a stone with a glowing mark.

Nir here! Congrats on working through getting here! Perseverance! Tenacity! Confidence! You got the drive! The guts! Only you can get in the way of you!

"Ahh! You're loud!" She dropped him, but as he hit the ground, the sound wasn't stone but metal. Staring, she looked at a gleaming, slender swords. It looked like a pick made of bone, with a black rib-cage about it. A sharp whiny came out.

"Hold firm! Good hand pressure can be the difference between strain and muscle growth!"

"A voice in my head." She said, touching the spot on her arm.

Was she scared?

"You're a weapon to kill."

I'm a weapon to get things done! Set your mind on a goal, and we can accomplish it! Teamwork!

"Good. I set the goal. You work." She reached down, picking it up. It wasn't a gun, but it was sharp, light, and sleek. Just like a nail file or a pocket knife. He was just loud, but a tool.

In a moment it fluctuated an a slender black bracelet of small bones clattered on her slender wrist like linked little vertebrae. A spine.


"Let's work it." And she turned to head up the steps.