Blackbird and The FoxMature

Before I was able to continue the session someone knocked at the door and opened it only a crack, and a woman with a strong German accent spoke from the other side.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but it was suggested that we attend a therapy session for authors and their characters. I didn't mean to be late, but I had to drag him most of the way here." I could hear a man out there as well, cursing and muttering somewhere behind her.

"Please come in, take a seat and make yourself comfortable." A redheaded woman with wire-rimmed eyeglasses stepped into the room and stopped short when she saw Llewellyn. The man behind her pushed past glared at the other patients.

"Hello there, Doctor Telcontar I presume. My name is Blackbird if you will. I think some of our characters have met; mine was a nice Slavic fellow named Mikhail. He's gone, terrible shame really. This is his replacement Miss Anna Muller." He grinned and directed Anna to a seat by the window, while she stared nervously at Llewellyn .

"What the hell is that thing?!" She asked Blackbird as he sat next to her. She looked like she was going to be sick when Llewellyn began to mutter threateningly.

"Well then, you insisted that we come to this session, and I warned you that we'd see some weird stuff, but you wouldn't listen to me! That is a dragon, and I doubt he likes being called a thing." He nodded apologetically and turned towards me, "So, how should we start?"

"Perhaps Miss Muller could explain why she wanted  to come here. This therapy session is aimed more towards the characters problems with their authors after all."

Miss Muller looked disappointed at that, "I'm not the one with problems, this man is clearly insane! He says he has 'plans for me', Lord only knows what he means by that! He could have sworn he said something about the Gestapo once, and I know he mentioned the Stasi a few times too, something about hunting them down. I think he wants me to kill people, which explains why I'm such a keen shot." She leaned forward in her seat, jabbing the air in front of Blackbird with her hand, while he sat back and smiled innocently.

"If you don't want to hunt fascists and secret policemen perhaps you would prefer to be a stalker." Blackbird offered casually.

"Look, he's at it again! Apparently a stalker is some kind of Russian phenomenon, and adventurer of a sort. The last time he mentioned that he asked how I felt about mutant pigs and getting turned inside-out, I said that was awful, then he started rambling about cannibals, radiation and the End of Days. Apparently I can make good money as a stalker, if I don't get shot in the head by a bandit! He even came up with a pseudonym for me, The Fox, what do you think of that?"

"I'm just looking out for you, I want you to have success, and if you don't want to hunt evil men then you'll have to make do being an adventurer. You can retire early if you do well enough. I don't think there's anything wrong with 'The Fox', they're clever little creatures, it's a compliment if you ask me!" Blackbird turned to me next, "I'm really not sure what I'm going to do with her, once she calms down she's quite the killer, a crack shot with a rifle, glasses and all. But if she doesn't get used to unusual things, like dragons and such, how will she deal with the end of the world?"

I could see exactly what Miss Muller meant; Blackbird was without a doubt the cause of her problems.

 

The End

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