Your CS Pet Pairs? :3 (NEW THREAD!)

[BlissfulFarrago]

@Kitteh: ...I want him to be alive. 8D

@Silent Symphony: I love this story. <3

Fiammeta [♀] and Cookieness [♂]

"Does anyone ever, really, know what they are doing?" she asked me, eyes glowing in the light of fire held in her hand. Then she left me, disappearing into the night.

I watched her go. Fiammeta, my vigilante, my arsonist. My love.

Ah...full story times, yay? 83 [Cookieness is Colv in the story...since "Cookieness" isn't exactly a name for a human. xD]


We stood in the dark field. Deep down, even if I denied it, I knew that Fiammeta was leaving for a long while, possible forever. We were only fifteen. How could she be leaving?

"There's something...I need to show you something," I said, grasping the piece of paper in my pocket.

"No," Fiammeta replied. No explanation. She lit the branch from her lantern, preparing for one last act of arson to right some evil before she left.

"What are you doing?" I said despairingly to the stars; I couldn't imagine life without her. It wasn't even a question, just a sad statement.

"Does anyone ever, really, know what they are doing?" she asked me, eyes glowing in the light of fire held in her hand. She placed her hand against my right cheek, her eyes searching my face. I could have died right there. "Colv...you're a fool for loving me."

Then she left me, disappearing into the night.

I watched her go. My Fiammeta, my vigilante, my arsonist. My love.


...Seven Years Later...


I stood at my booth in the market, searching the crowd with my eyes. Normally, I should be selling my wares, beautiful jewelry I made, on a Saturday like this. Even if it earned me some amused looks from other men, I loved what I did. But the piece I loved the most was the one I had designed seven years ago, and always kept in my pocket, ownerless. It was a single, luminous, blue-gray stone, surrounded by brown gems that swirled and dotted in a familiar pattern.

But I wasn't selling today. For the market was a breeding ground for gossip, and for the past week or so, a rumor had been going around that the miller had raped the innkeeper's daughter. It probably wasn't true: few of the rumors were. But last night, the miller's mill was burned to the ground. I only knew one person who would be foolish and brave enough to do that. And with fire, no less.

Suddenly, I got the feeling that someone was watching me. Slowly, I rotated my head. A head of long brown hair turned swiftly, and the slim, long body attached to it began to walk swiftly away.

"Watch my stall!" I called to to Pargi, the woman who's stall was next to mine. I didn't wait for her response as I sprinted through the crowd after the figure. After her. I knew it must be her.

She was fast, but I was faster. I reached her, and soon, she was on the ground, with me sitting on top of her. Quickly, I ran my finger across the bare skin around next to her eye. Powder clung to my finger, and a little brown tattoo peaked through. I smiled. It was Fiammeta. I thought I felt the ring in my pocket twitch, so close to it's rightful owner.

"Well done," she said, a smirk spreading across her face. "Has little Colvy-boy gotten a little bolder since we last met?" I tried to form some sort of response, but was too shocked and giddy to do so.

"Um...Colv. You might want to get off me," Fiammeta said. She looked meaningfully at the shoppers and stall owners who were staring at us.

"Oh. Right," I muttered, letting her up and standing up myself. Great. Now there were probably going to be some rumors going around about me within the hour. Fiammeta and I got out of the market quickly.

...

Back at my cottage, I was angry. Furious.

"Metta, how could you burn down Bervn's mill? Ninety percent of the rumors in the market are false!" I exclaimed, running a hand through my hair and turning away from her.

"I'd rather destroy an innocent man's house than let a guilty one's stand," she replied.

"Fiammeta, this isn't a shed or a sheep fence anymore!" I said, practically shouting. I cursed. "This is the man's livelihood we're talking about!" I expected a joke about how little "Colvy-pie" could curse, or at least an "I don't care." But no response came. I turned back towards her, surprised. She was staring into space, her eyes glazed over like they always were when she was trying not to cry.

Suddenly I remembered. Why she Fiammeta had been crying when I met her, why she had run away from home at age ten, why she did what she did. I had never thought about it, never wanted to think about how someone could bear to hurt my darling Fia.

"Oh," I said. "Oh, Met. Oh, Metta." I went to her and hugged her to me.



...Ending One...Colv's Ending...

A week later, she was leaving again. I couldn't blame her. The authorities were taking an interest in the fire at the mill, and Fiammeta had to leave before they figured out it was her.

We were standing in the field where she had left ten years ago, except now it was twilight, not black night.

"Come with me," she said, eyes pleading. "I know I told you you were a fool to love me seven years ago, but now...I see I was a fool for leaving you."

I took a deep breath. "Fia, remember how I wanted to show you something, that night seven years ago?"

She blinked. "No..."

"Well, it was the design for this." Out of my pocket I pulled the ring, the last rays of sunlight catching on it. Fiametta sucked her breath in with astonishment.

I placed my right hand on her cheek and searched her face with my eyes.

"Seven years ago, you told me I was a fool for loving you. And I was. But...I'm not a fool anymore."

I dropped my hand and walked away, leaving Fiammeta looking at the ring in her hands.



...Ending Two...Fiammeta's Ending...

A week later, she was leaving again. I couldn't blame her. The authorities were taking an interest in the fire at the mill, and Fiammeta had to leave before they figured out it was her.

We were standing in the field where she had left ten years ago, except now it was twilight, not black night.

I took a deep breath. "Fia, remember how I wanted to show you something, that night seven years ago?"

She blinked. "No..."

"Well, it was the design for this." Out of my pocket I pulled the ring, the last rays of sunlight catching on it. Fiametta sucked her breath in with astonishment.

"Fia, seven years ago, you told me I was a fool for loving you," I said, looking into her eyes. "And I am still a fool."

She looked down, shuffled her feet.

"Colv..." She looked back up at me. "I have always loved you. But it is foolish to do so.

Then she left me, disappearing into the newly-born night.

I watched her go. My Fiammeta, my vigilante, my arsonist. My love.


...Ending Three...Mushy-Shmushy Ending...

A week later, the sun shining brightly on us, I took her to where we had met as children. She had been crying, and had threatened to hit me with a stone she had in her hand. No wonder we became friends.

I took a deep breath. "Fia, remember how I wanted to show you something, that night seven years ago?"

She blinked. "No..."

"Well, it was the design for this." Out of my pocket I pulled the ring, the sunlight catching on it. Fiametta sucked her breath in with astonishment.

"You told me I was a fool for loving you." I chuckled under my breath. "And I am a fool still."

"Are you--?" Fiammeta began.

"Shh," I said. "And, " I continued, "I don't think I'll stop being a fool any time soon." I offered the ring to her.

She took it and smiled slightly. "All those years..." she said. "I thought I was protecting you, but you were protecting me the whole time. And I most certainly accept your offer, as I have always been a fool for you also."

Then, suddenly she kissed me, not waiting for me to make the first move.

Typical Metta.

--------------------------------------------

Uh...I had a few ideas for the ending that I could see working...so I wrote three. xD What do you guys think? ~<3

[omori]

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I think I will come here more often. Seems to be great fun, whether people review or not. n_n Oh, the joys of writing!
@Blissful: then I suppose there will have to be a second part, no? ;3 *goes to brainstorm*


Ah, this one is quite long. Longer than anticipated, but I still like it. x3;


---
Grace ♀ --------------------------------------------- Fae ♀

It was late one night as Fae awoke in the forest. She had always had a taste for adventure, whether it was somewhere far away in a fairy tale land, or in the community forest, which is where she had been traveling the last time she remembered. Confused and sore, Fae stretched and ventured deeper into the wood, looking for an answer to her confusion.

During her adventure, however, Fae crossed paths with someone who must have been an imaginative character. As she tramped along her own path, something caught her eye; it was a white winged wolf, with red blood staining her fur. Through the blood, Fae could see other colors as well; as a matter of fact, the wolf was mostly hues of yellow, green, and blue. Fae did not know what to do. Was this beautiful creature even alive? Yes. It was breathing, but it didn't look good for it. When Fae moved to look into its eyes, they were open, watching her.
"Who... what..." Fae began, trying to think of how to even start. The creature opened its eyes widely, looking right into Fae's. When it did so, Fae began to see a faint image. It looked like a crystal clear lake, surrounded by the forest.
"Do you.. want me to take you there?" Fae asked in wonder. The wolf nodded to her, and Fae searched the area for something to bring it along with. The creature was small, provided it only needed something rather small...

Fae retrieved a leaf from a large, grassy plant; the leaf felt almost rubbery. Perhaps it was a rubber tree? Fae laughed at herself, but quickly returned to being focused. She managed to scoot the creature onto the rubbery leaf, only making it wince once or twice (each responded to with many "I'm sorry!"'s). Then Fae bit lightly down onto the stem of the leaf, and began to draw it gently across the forest floor. There was only one obstacle, though; where was this Crystal Lake? Fae then discovered a direction system; when she turned the wrong way, she found that the wolf creature closed her eyes tightly. So through this dicovery, withing minutes, the two arrived. It was even more beautiful than the image that the creature had shown her!

"Now what?" Fae whimpered, not seeing anybody hear. She turned around and gasped, seeing the creature trying to stand. "No," Fae said. "You must rest." But still, the creature attempted to stand. Fae sighed and tried to help it by serving as a leaning post. Slowly, the two moved closer to the pond, the creature limping with every step. When they reached the edge of the pond, the creature simply fell in, her body going limp. "No!" Fae cried, afraid that the creature would drown. But Fae was witnessing something beautiful, something that was impossible beyond imagination; she was witnessing the creature being healed by the water.

When the creature emerged from the water, her fur sparkled green, blue, yellow and white; an amazing sight to behold. But still, the creature, now definitely identified as a wolf, said nothing. Fae was a little disappointed, and when the wolf said nothing still and only stared into Fae's eyes, Fae grew angry.
"Why do you say nothing?" she yelled. "I have saved you, and I receive no thank you in return? Who are you, even? I have rescued you, a complete stranger, and you do not appreciate it!" she barked. The winged wolf said nothing, and showed no emotion. Fae panted after yelling and stared angrily at it. "Can you not even tell me your name? Or why you are here? Or where you have come from?" Again, the creature said nothing. It only gave her the same, blank stare. Then, its eyes began to glow; they turned a beautiful, calm shade of blue. But just as suddenly as they turned to blue, they changed to a piercing, evil red, causing Fae to become startled and gasp.

Fae awoke with a start, her eyes wide with fear. She was sweating through her fur and breathing heavily. Wait.. was that... was all of that just a dream? She looked around, trying to figure out who she was. But Fae was not in a forest. She was in her dog house that she was permitted to sleep in by an old couple. So then... it was just a dream. Fae set out of her dog house, on another one of her daily adventures; but the whole time, she was distracted. That dream had seemed so real!... but Fae had to face that it wasn't. It was a figure of her imagination. With a sigh, Fae made her way back to her dog house; but on the way, through her concentration in her thoughts, she stepped into a pothole in to road. She did not twist her ankle, but she did step on sharp sediment at the bottom of it. She yelped and limped off the road, then messed with the sharp rock, plucking it out of her front right paw. Blood trickled from the cut. She huffed and continued down the road, trying not to put much weight on it.

When she reached her doghouse, and took a single step inside. Her front right paw began to tingle. It went completely numb after a few seconds, and it felt glued to the ground. "What the..?" she asked herself loudly, becoming a bit worried. "What is this?" she yelled. She began to breathe heavily and struggle, and just as she yanked as hard as she could, the invisible hand released her grip. She fell back-first out of the dog house, the breath being taken out of her by surprise. She fell to the ground dramatically with a thud. Fae got up with a huff. "What kind of trickery is this?" she yelled angrily. She walked to the dog house, stomping her paws, then realized... her paw didn't hurt anymore. "Wha..?" she whispered in amazement. She slowly returned to her dog house and gasped.

There, on the ground, with a final ray of sunlight, Fae saw a single feather. A feather from the winged wolf from her dream. Any feather colored like this was definitely from that. So... it wasn't a dream? So many questions buzzed around in Fae's mind... Why hadn't the creature talked? Why was it hurt? And just like a freight train, the truth hit her.

The creature was hurt because it took some form of damage for Fae. And it didn't talk, because... it didn't have a voice. And this was all due to one reason: that creature was Fae's guardian angel. Fae looked to the sky with sorrowful eyes as she held the feather between her two front paws, laying down. She did feel bad for growing so angry at the winged wolf, but... Fae clutched the feather even tighter between her large, puppy-like paws. ...but she didn't have to apologize, because she knew that her angel understood. It would be confusing for anyone. Smiling, Fae lay her head down upon the feather between her paws, and drifted into a deep sleep, imagining again her guardian angel. They met again, in her real dream this time; or, perhaps, again? Fae never could tell if she had dreamed that fateful night... In her dream, Fae apologized to her guardian, and the angel gave her the same blank stare; but she understood. Fae could feel it. Her angel began to levitate above the ground, and gracefully took flight into the sky. She flew away from Fae, not looking back. And Fae awoke.

She opened her eyes gently, being sure she was awake. What a wonderful dream, she thought. She lifted her head and glanced between her paws; and there it was, the single, beautiful feather that she would never let go. Fae arose from her slumber position, and ventured to the forest, just to the edge of it, where there were grassy plants with long, stringy leaves. She plucked one of these, and made her way back to her dog house. When she arrived again, she lay down inside, wrapped to string around her tail, and stuck the feather up underneath.
"Thank you, Grace," Fae whispered, thinking of the perfect name for her angel. She drifted off into a light nap, hoping to see Grace once more; but the angel was nowhere to be found. Fae never saw Grace again; but Fae wasn't worried. Grace hadn't left her.
Grace would never leave her.

[Mozzy.]

Fruit jelly cup anyone? xD



Hildako [M] & l'Eau [F]
Something I wipped up ^^
I might end up designing some pups from these two, I love 'em too much.
If I am not allowed to make an image like this, tell me and I'll remove it at once.

My first pairing. I love both of these and was very happy when l'Eau became a GPPS. If Tess chose this pair to have pups in the future I would be over the moon! :3

Story will come soon.

[Lady Kiba]

Sol & Luna

I'll be you sun in the middle of the night
I'll be your stars on the brightest day
<3

[iBrevity]

Evra Von [f] xxx Jori [m]


The ringing was insistent.

Lifting her cheek a few inches from the pillow, Evra glared at the jostling cell phone on her bedside table, irritated at the jovial sunshine song it was spilling out at full sound. She grunted and took it, sitting up on an elbow as she pressed it to her ear.

"What?" She groaned, pushing her sterling hair out of her face. She glared further at the clock that greeted her with a delighted face that read 3:49 AM.

There was rustling at the other end, the sound of bedsheets being pulled back. "Evra; I apologize for calling-"

"Jori." She interrupted, slitting her eyes. "It's 3 in the freakin' morning. If you don't have something important to tell me, you are going to have hell to pay tomorrow."

His chuckle was too timid; she rolled over onto her stomach and sighed. "What's wrong, Jori?"

She could hear the man scrub his fists across his face as he walked down the hallway. She heard the familiar squeak the floorboards used as a complaint when trod on in the middle. "...I need you, Evra."

She knew better than to argue. She knew better then to even complain. Instead, she huffed an angry sigh into the phone as she crawled out of bed and yanked her boots on, lacing them in quick, angry jerks. "The usual place?" She growled, buttoning her best winter jacket and tucking a scarf around her barren neck.

Pausing to peer sleepily at the phone, Evra pursed her mouth into a sharp frown. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, the usual place."

Somehow the sound of the dial tone was no less irking than the man who had just hung up on her.


[part one obviously. :3 Blissful, loved your stuff. D8 I don't like any of the endings though. xDDD ;shot;]

[micah]

@iBrevity: Marrrrry meeee darrrrlingggggg<3
You're stories are keeping me up with their wonderful cliff-hangers. They leave me begging for more, waiting for more... ;A; There's something about your writing {and half the other people on here} that makes me... feel the characters. Their emotions seem excellently up to par; so believable that I -want- to believe that there are people out there actually that awesome.

I can imagine where the characters are with utmost excellence, and it creates the most wonderful feeling. Actually having the sense of where they are makes me notice that it's like a movie--but it keeps an imaginative feel that makes me crave your stories. I know I haven't been commenting on your last few stories, but I've been lurking.

You're number one fan is always here~

[Neku]

Ebonii[f] x Constellation[m]
If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky;
You can hide underneath me, and come out at night.
When I turn jet black, and you show off your light;
I live to let you shine...
I live to let you shine....

But you can skyrocket, away from me.
And never come back if, you find another galaxy.
Far from here, with more room to fly.
Just leave me your stardust, to remember you by....


Ocean[f] x Sail[m]
If you'll be my boat, I'll be your sea;
A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity.
Ebbing and flowing, and pushed by a breeze;
I live to make you free...
I live to make you free...

But you can set sail to the west if you want to,
And past the horizon till I can't even see you.
Far from here, where the beaches are wide;
Just leave me your wake to remember you by.

Boats and Birds - Gregory and the Hawk

[Nathifa]

&
Paco {m}-------------- Anael {f}

"Waiting on an angel
One to carry me home
Hope you come to see me soon
Cause I don' t want to go alone
I don' t want to go alone

Now angel won' t you come by me
Angel hear my plea
Take my hand lift me up
So that I can fly with thee
So that I can fly with thee

And I'm waiting on an angel
And I know it won' t be long
To find myself a resting place
In my angel's arms.."

~
Ben Harper - "Waiting On An Angel"
Not very original but I couldn't help it! x3

[Cirque]

Destric {m} & Ashes {f}

[Selcouth]

Cygnus [♂/○] .&&. Corax [♂/○] .&&. Synchronicity [☿]

Aristotle [♂]
-----
[Epilogue]
[Part I.]
-----

[Part II.]
-----

Immediately after locating Synchronicity and his roommate, Cygnus had determined that their relationship was entirely platonic. This was, for reasons he'd rather not admit {even to himself}, a massive relief. {And being an angel, it was rather easy to determine these things. They were built to sense love and kindness.}
They were spying monitoring the two from a convenient tree, hidden as well as they could be. Corax had no difficulty hiding himself amongst the branches, as birds usually don't, but for the angel it had been a struggle to even get up the massive orange oak- much less be stealthy while doing so. There were leaves in his hair, along with the odd branch or two, and chips of bark were bark should never be found. Corax took over surveillance while the angel was attempting to remove acorns from his shirt.

Being a demon, Corax was naturally suspicious of people in general. And despite Cygnus' reassurances that the man's intentions were no where near romantic, he still harbored a ferocious protective streak when it came to anything and everything concerning Synchronicity. He was sulking behind a pumpkin-colored shield as he watched them- Synchronicity busy with something that looked fairly scientific while the other man made tea.
He bristled when the man set a mug down for hir, and ze smile up at him with a happy “thanks!”

Cygnus scoffed from somewhere behind him, peering over the leaves as much as he dared. “It's fine, brother. It's tea, not a wedding ring.”

Corax would have voiced his opinions concerning this {“No, it's worse! Tea is much more sacred, useful, and a sign of a loving relationship than some metal band- no matter how shiny!”}, but he was currently a bird, and not one of the talking varieties. He settled for cawing with distain.

Cygnus settled back on the trunk of the tree, shifting branches back into their original places and creating quite a nice shield from inquisitive eyes. The demon hopped over to him.
“Quiet, you. You know you have no skill for this sort of thing. Besides, I have an idea... If you'd be willing to help?”
-----

Aristotle considered himself to be, in most senses, a fairly open-minded and accepting man.
There were some things, however, that even the best of mortal minds could not handle without a little disbelief. This was quickly shaping up to be one of those circumstances.

It had been another long day at the surgery, a few deaths here and there, {gunshot wounds, as per usual these days} and he'd seen a little more action than usual. The cure for this, he'd decided, was a long shower and nap; and it was just after the former that he had first seen the bird.
It was a magpie. Which, naturally, explained the shiny coin clutched in its beak. The poor thing was as mangy as ever, feathers in spiky clumps, and had looked like it had seen the underside if a lawnmower once or twice. It was watching him, whilst attempting to smooth its wings and keep hold of the coin at the same time, with a disturbing intelligence that very few animals possessed- it looked oddly disapproving, so he shut the blind and blocked its view, not giving the bird another thought as he slipped into sleep.

But several hours later, a rhythmic tap-tap-tapping noise dragged the doctor from his rest, despite his valiant contributions in the field of ignoring it and maybe it will go away.
It did not. It just got louder.

Huffing in exasperation, he stomped over to the window and pulled the blinds with more force than strictly needed. He saw the magpie on the windowsill- it would have been smirking, if birds could smirk- much cleaner than before and equipped with a band of paper around its left leg. It tapped on the glass once more, for good measure.
Aristotle debated his choices; he could either shoo it away and hope it never came back, or he could invite the mongrel in and see what kind of person sent notes by magpie. Deciding it to be a fairly determined bird, he unlatched the window and allowed it to hop inside, even if it did halfheartedly nip at his fingers when he untied the note. It seemed... Pensive, for a bird, but obediently waited while he fiddled with the soft paper.

Unfolding the yellowed note, he discovered it to say, in fancy lettering, “hello”.
Blinking down at it, then to the bird and back again, he decided to humor the writer by waving and saying “hello” back to it. The bird looked at him with surprised disbelief, and he felt rather silly- until the note started to change.

Hardly daring to look away, the good doctor held the note with trembling hands, watching the previous message sink into the parchment and be replaced with an “Aristotle, correct?”
He turned the note around and looked at the back; it was plain, the same aged color as the rest of the paper, with no sign of the ink anywhere. His brows met as he pondered over this; and with a good-natured smile, addressed the bird.

“This is some kind of trick, isn't it?”

“No, I assure you it is not,” the note scrawled. Now, it was really starting to get strange.

Magic paper is a rather simple invention, if a little difficult to understand. Once one masters the trick to it, however, it can be a useful method of communication- provided you're in an area with no phone service or internet signal, and happen to have years worth of magical training and a notebook with you. Function wise, they're essentially the same- magic paper may as well have been the first I.Ming software. The only downfall was its difficulty to explain to modern, mundane men, when a text would be just as simple and ominous. But Cygnus preferred the paper.

“I am sorry to bother you like this,” the angel wrote from miles away, in the comfort of his flat in Italy, sipping Champagne; “but my brother and I are in need of some assistance.”

“... What... Assistance? What do you need me for?”
Aristotle was surprised at how well he seemed to be taking this. Perhaps it hadn't really set in yet that he was talking to paper; regardless, it didn't seem all that odd. People asked him to do everything else, why should he be surprised to find that parchment would want his attention, as well?
The magpie was riffling through a box of random medical supplies, unnoticed.

“It's concerning Synchronicity.”
-----

It had taken four days, until the doctor was able to have a conversation with the elusive scholar. Synchronicity had a habit of disappearing for days on end, either busy in the labs or lurking in other university rooms, and showing back up without the slightest care in the world, as if he'd never left in the first place. This was one of those times. He'd seen the man wandering around the libraries once or twice, but hadn't had the nerve {or had known what to say} to strike up a conversation with him.

He was home now, though, and that left the doctor in a bit of a predicament. He still didn't know how he'd go about telling him... Whatever it was the note had wanted to tell him. It wasn't exactly specific, and the writer seemed just as flummoxed and he was.

Setting down his take-out box of Chinese and steadying his nerves, he attempted to wing it. “Hey, Synchronicity...”
{So I got some interesting mail the other day...}

The man's head made an appearance from behind the box, still slurping noodles, and hummed in curiosity. Aristotle scratched the back of his own head, suddenly transported back to square one. It wasn't like him to really hesitate, but even the best have their moments. And those sharp eyes could unnerve anyone without proper adjustment time. He cleared his throat and tried it again.

“Er... I don't suppose you know any men with pet magpies, do you?”

Synchronicity paused in his feast, chopsticks halfway to his lips, and tilted his head to the left. After a moment, he smiled widely in polite confusion. “No, I don't believe I do. Why- are you needing one for something?”

“No, no, it's just...” Aristotle sighed, deciding that the direct way was probably the best. “Well, a strange letter arrived yesterday. By... Bird.”

“Oh?” Synchronicity stole a bit of food from the doctor's box, deciding that he looked to be finished for the time. “And it mentioned men with magpies?”

“It came by magpie, yes. I assume the writer had it as a pet or something- but, that's not the point.”
His dinner was slowly inching its way closer to the scholar, and he decided to let it go, reaching for a fortune cookie instead. “My point is, is that the note was about you. ”

“Well,” said Synchronicity, not missing a beat, “Most notes are, these days. Secret societies and whatnot, around the campus. But it's gotten you rather shaken up, so why not just say what it was about and get it over with?”

Aristotle patted his pant's pocket, relieved to feel the indention of the note under it. He took a breath before replying, knowing how silly this was going to look.
“I would, but I find it hard to explain. Why don't you see for yourself.”
-----

Several seconds later, Synchronicity locked himself in his room with the note, looking absolutely fascinated.
It was almost a full week before Aristotle saw him again- aside from the little glimpses of white in the hallway, or the nights when he'd come in only for food, staving off sleep. He seemed rather busy with something or other.
It was oddly quiet without him. Aristotle didn't know if he preferred the silence or not- but he certainly got a lot more sleep.
-----

Synchronicity set the paper on his desk- which was, like most university students', a complete and utter disarray of books and various equipment that seemed entirely useless until you couldn't find it. It was propped up by the jar of pickled eyes, which is not, in fact, mandatory for most students.
He stared at it with intense and open curiosity, falling into his chair and propping his arms upon the thick text books.
“Who are you?” He asked it.

“My name is Cygnus,” it replied, fading quickly to add more words. It really was a small note. “An angel, and your... Well, your brother. It's complicated.”

“I've got all night. Go on.”

It took a few minutes for the next reply to come- the writer was thinking, he observed, contemplating what to say. Whatever it was, it couldn't be any stranger than “magic paper”; he'd be willing to listen to anything at this point.

“It's a long story. But, okay. You deserve to know.

“It started- I don't know when. A long time ago. We angels, you see... We're born from fruit. I think you'd know that. You study religious texts, don't you? Anyway, the Tree of Life once bore a pomegranate, and from those seeds we- you, our brother Corax and I, I mean- were born. At least, Corax and I were born. You... Fell.”

“Like the demons?” Synchronicity asked, rapidly adjusting to this mental image. The paper's reply was swift.

“No, no. You fell as a seed. I suppose... Fell wouldn't be the right word. There were only meant to be two, the angels thought, so they cast you down. To Earth. Oh, it's such a long story...

“Nevertheless, after a few dozen millennia or so, I found you. I don't really remember how. You were still a seed, and I went to go find Corax-”

“This Corax,” Synchronicity couldn't help but ask, between the frantic scrawling. He'd never been good with waiting. “He's an angel as well?”

“...Oh, no. He's a demon, an ‘official’ fallen angel, I suppose. He's the Moon Guardian, and I am the Sun. Or, will be.”

“Do I look like you? Both of you?”

“Yes, you do. Aside from some minor differences- I suppose you still have those. Not the wings, though.”

The scholar laughed at that, softly, leaning back in his chair. It was a lot of odd information, but when paper starts talking... You should probably listen. “Go on,” he said, waving a hand, and it did.

Cygnus told him all about the first few days, the rapid growth and intellect, the bow training. He described his past appearance, and those of the other two; differences in hair, eyes, bodies, feathers. He told Synchronicity about the confrontation, the Event, and about his death. Then he told him about Above, Below and the Gray- with Synchronicity's imput every so often, about whatever came into his head at the time. He hadn't lost that, Cygnus had told him.

In return, he'd told the angel about his own childhood, as a mortal. Synchronicity never knew much of his parents, the two having been killed when he was a mere child of five. He'd remembered the event, of course, in full detail; but the life with his family had been a blur. Afterwords, he'd been raised in an orphanage for gifted children- the government having placed him there for his own good. It was there that he really began to explore his intellect, and his own body.
The gender issue was one quickly resolved in his own mind; he was, without question, both genders in mind and body. {Some could argue that point, but he still felt the same.} But having the choice between estrogen and testosterone forced upon him, he'd decided that he was leaning rather closer to the male spectrum, and has been comfortable with the results insofar. There had been surgeries, and countless hospital visits; a good amount of his life was spent in the white-walled labs, it seemed. But he was happy nonetheless.

The fascination with holy books stemmed from a love of antique texts, he'd said. It was just easier to find these.

“So you don't rememeber us?” Cygnus wrote, and Synchronicity could almost feel the sadness through the ink.

“... No, I'm afraid I don't.”

The two talked, for the given value of talking, throughout the night; and once the sun rose, they made plans to meet within the month. Cygnus {along with Corax, he assumed} agreed to be Synchronicity's benefactor for his education, considering how tight his funds were- and Synchronicity had made him promise to help out the good doctor, as well. Angel or demon or no, he and Aristotle were still close friends; and the poor surgen deserved far more than he got, in any case.
Before he let Cygnus go and went to face the day, he had to ask just one more thing.

“How can you hear me?”

“?” Cygnus wrote.

“I mean, this is paper. You can't hear a person through paper. So how...?”

And with that, in the early morning gray of another English day, the paper disappeared into thin air with what could only be described as a “pouff” and a cloud of golden smoke.
That was, he'd come to learn, the trick to magic paper.
-----

As of now, the triplets are reunited- angel, demon and mortal. Though Synchronicity still lives with Aristotle, he visits his brothers, who have relocated their home to London, more often than not. Aristotle and Cygnus have become dear friends, trading medical information and sterilizing solutions. Corax, now back in his normal form, {the jolt of seeing Synchronicity reminded him far too much of life before the world of avians, to ever stay that way} grudgingly tolerates his presence, and practically clings to Synchronicity at every opportunity. He also wears a shiny coin around his neck- always, according to Cygnus, who would know better than anyone. He'll deny it vehemently if you say anything about it and magpies, though.
You may make of their relationship what you will.

Synchronicity is still... Slightly overwhelmed by this new event in his life, but is enjoying things regardless. He now works as a private investigator, while still in university, but tends to shoulder schoolwork to actual cases. It's still unknown how he manages to pass with the attention span of a duck.
Aristotle is the first and only man he'd ever allow near a body, deceased or otherwise, and has become the “Watson to his Holmes”, as Synchronicity puts it. He frequently wonders why he even owns a bed, what with Synchronicity bringing in clients at all hours; but he tolerates it, because he doesn't think he'd ever be able to go back to a normal life after this.

All in all, things are good. It may not always stay that way, but... For the moment, things are good.

[Fin.]