Weasel Water Lou Of The Peace In Carlos - 7

Writing ship-able couples

Here are some tips for writing relationships your readers can get behind:

1. Give them reasons to click

The two characters must have things in common - a hobby, a philosophy, a background. There has to be some element that connects them.

Your readers will root for relationships in which the characters fit together better than they would with others.

Also, make their traits compatible. Have them share some characteristics or have their strengths and weaknesses be complementary. Is the one hotheaded? Maybe the other keeps their cool well in situations of conflict.

There are endless possibilities. Just make sure there’s a reason these two people like/love each other.

2. Have them be vulnerable in front of each other

Personally, this is the best way to get me to love a couple.

Have them share secrets, open up about their feelings and tell each other things they haven’t told anyone. Have them cry in front of each other and comfort each other.

This can be taken to a whole new level by having them understand the other’s emotions even without speaking and already offer comfort. Keep in mind that this will probably only be possible with long-established couples.

And having them open up is also a great way for them to discover all the things they have in common/love about each other.

3. Build up the tension

I cannot emphasise this enough: DO NOT MAKE YOUR COUPLES GET TOGETHER TOO QUICKLY.

One of the best elements of a romantic subplot (or even main plot) is the tension. Your readers want to see the pining! They want the build-up.

And no, I’m not saying that you should introduce endless, petty obstacles. That can become tedious and appear forced.

Just give your characters time to sort through their feelings. Make them fall in love slowly. Have them be unsure. Insert SOME obstacles/conflicts.

Have them almost kiss a few times. Not all the time. Too many almost-kisses can become frustrating. But you should throw a few in there.

And, if you feel comfortable with it, add some sexual tension. Have them notice each other’s bodies and imagine what they’d like to do to each other (that sounds more explicit than I intended :) )

4. Write a healthy relationship

This could just be me and my rejection of unhealthy romances, but I will not root for abusive relationships.

Have your characters be kind to each other, support each other and truly care for each other.

If your characters are constantly putting each other down, physically/emotionally abusing each other or going against the other’s wishes, they’re not in a healthy relationship.

A great way to write a healthy relationship whilst still maintaining the tension, is to have the conflict in the relationship be external. Instead of having the conflict be due to internal struggles between the two characters, have obstacles enter from outside.

Your readers should want them to be together and for that, they should be good for each other.

5. Have their friends/family see their chemistry

I find it beyond adorable when two characters are still figuring out their feelings for each other, but the fact that they’re perfect for each other is crystal clear to everyone around them.

Have their friends tease them about the relationship. Have family members ask after the them. Have their loved ones conspire to get them to admit their feelings.

If your other characters are rooting for them, your readers will probably do so as well.

Plus, this means that the chemistry between the two characters is so strong that it’s obvious, which is always good for an exciting romance.

That’s all I’ve got for now. If you have any further questions about writing OTPs or any other aspect of writing, feel free to message me or pop me an ask.

Reblog if you found any of this useful. Comment with your own tips. Follow me for similar content.

Breton Wager - 5

Breton was very tired all morning. The first half of the Thursday school day was less than pleasant. He didn’t even bother skipping through any of it.

Breton reached English class at 12:11 pm that day, and he was not feeling in the mood. Sixth period’s job was to write a chronological and sequential paragraph about what they had done so far that day. So far, Breton had tried to sleep and had been interrupted no less than thirteen times by none other than Christian. Sixth period was no exception.

Breton’s eyes were feeling droopy. Very droopy. He could barely keep them open as he rested his head down onto his desk. He was about to drift off into sweet, sweet slumber . . .

“My Day, by Christian Aubry. There! What do you think, Breton? Breton! Breton!” Christian was forcfully shaking Breton to the point where he almost fell out of the chair. “Breton! What do you think of the title of my piece? My Day, by Christian Aubry. Isn’t it studious?”

“Mhm,” Breton agreed tiredly. There were many times when Breton wished he was in fifth period English. This was one of them.

“I was thinking I could start out with the breakfast I had this morning: bacon, with eggs (over-easy), and three ounces of orange juice! A ate it while surveying my vast lawn (which is visible from my dining room window).”

One reason that Breton wished he was in fifth period English was that Rose was there and Christian was not. Even if he didn’t sit beside Rose, at least he wouldn’t be sitting to the right of Christian.

“And then after breakfast, I walked to school. Wait, even better, I’ll say I walked to Field High School! Doesn’t that just sound scholarly?”

A second reason Breton wished he was in fifth period English was that fifth period English had written a compare and contrast paragraph. Breton had the perfect idea for one of those. It could be, The Similarities and Differences Between Christian Aubry and His Puppet Counterpart, by Breton Bauerbecken.

“After arriving at school, the bookish boy (that’s me!) made his way to his first period class, where he used his academic brain to construct an A+ model in first period Science class!”

One similarity between the two entities was their efinity to bother Breton when he very much didn’t want to be bothered. A second similarity was the fact that both creatures were constantly trying to get him to agree with whatever words happened to spill out of their speaking gullets.

“Second and third period went just as well for the intellectual teen, and as he sauntered from class to class, he began to think ahead to Friday, when he would dress as the noblest of birds for the First Ever Annual Field High School Masquerade Ball!”

A third similarity between Christian and his puppet pal was the fact that they only seemed to be around him because he was possibly famous. Neither of them knew that he was actually a time walker, but they both knew that Ashley Sonjan was his aunt.

“At the Friday Masquerade Ball, the learned young man would amaze the beautiful Nashaadh Sonjan and finally free her from the filthy Roosevelt Otterton!”

Really, the only difference between the two was that one was a narcissistic sixteen year old boy, and the other was boastful, sloppily constructed children’s toy.

“What a hero he is, that brainy Christian Aubry!”

Too bad he was in sixth period English.

I’m looking for more writeblrs to follow so give this the ol’ reblog and/or like (especially if you write sci-fi) and I’ll check you out

Poor Margret - 4

“Yikes!” Esse said, following Kennen’s gaze upward to the ceiling. “Kennen, whose eyes are those? They’re humongous!”

“And they talk to me too.” Kennen told her.

“Really? Kennen, are you insane? Maybe we should call your sister, Heavenly Evenly.”

“No, Esse, look at the walls.” Kennen said.

“Yikes!” Esse said, looking around. “Kennen, did you do this?”

“No.” Kennen answered. “Annaig did.” Suddenly, Esse let out a little squeak. Kennen looked up.

Hello, Essy. Are you a friend of Kennen’s? My name is Annaig.

“Um.” Esse said. “it’s E-S-S-E.” Annaig corrected his mistake. Esse nodded approvingly. “He seems nice.” she told Kennen. Annaig drew a large heart around Esse’s name. “I think Annaig likes you too.” Kennen answered her.

Soon, Esse and Kennen had moved all of Esse’s work into Kennen’s Office. “The floor is too slippery.” Esse said. “Besides, I need more company to work happily.” Kennen’s job that day was to was to go through everyone’s files and see who had a criminal record. Esse’s was to go through the files of the people just moving to The Land of Nimm. “Hey,” Esse said, pulling out a file. “Here’s your sister.” Kennen leaned over to read. It said:

The File of:

Heavenly Evenly likes to eat at elevenly LALALALALA Pie. DODODO, NANANA, Tickle some type of fly Mamamel Pastamaker

“What in the world? Is that really her full name?” Esse asked.

“I never told you?” Kennen answered.

“Does she like pie?” Esse asked. Kennen shrugged. “I would think so. Can’t you look in her file?” he asked. Esse opened it. There on the first page it read:

Likes Pie:Yes/No/Limited

Job: NonDominant Animal Psychiatrist

“Huh.” Esse said. “The pie a bit of a strange thing to put in a file.” Kennen shrugged. “Not if you’re Heavenly Evenly.” he said.

Some time later, Kennen found his first criminal record. “Hey, Esse, did you know that Emelea and her children have a criminal record?” he asked. Esse leaned over to see. “Well, I guess Luc never told me the story.” Esse answered. “Then I will.” Kennen began:

The Story of Emela’s Children

Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Emelea Grapis, one of the most criminal masterminds to this day. Emelea’s husband had run away after she threatened to drop 16 bananas on his head, leaving Emela with her two children. Their names were Heteb and Zoeabby. When Heteb was 16 years old, and Zoeabby was 3, Emelea launched the Great Kidnapping Thing. Queen Alissa lived in a beautiful palace on top of the hill, and because Emelea was the evil twin of her sister, Mistress Amelia, she was invited to live with Queen Alissa. Queen Alissa had three children; Aras, Tanyaasha, and Izzy, who were all kidnapped within a week. Here is how Emelea did it: Zoeabby, even though she was only three, could already speak fluently in English, Lithuanian, and German. So every night, Zoeabby would go through the hall outside Queen Alyssa’s part of the castle with her mother’s cloak on, and sing: “Aš miręs nuotaka aš sakau ‘boo!’ jums bus išsigandęs. BOO!” (the spell works better when said in Lithuanian. Besides, everyone there was from New Forkie, and so saying it in a language no one probably understood was a good idea.) Zoeabby would happily knock out anyone who was within three feet of her (this usually got a nosy princess listening at the door). Zoeabby would then grin and run off to get her mother. Emelea would take the cloak from Zoeabby, and go kidnap the nosy princess at the door. After the first three kidnappings, Emelea decided to kidnap all the other children in the building. She started with Queen Eneel’s children; Meuh and Raychell, and then to everyone else's children. Unfortunately, Emelea made the mistake of kidnapping Judge Anna’s granddaughter, and Judge Anna arranged a meeting with Neemzay, the genius of the castle, who was kidnapped soon after that, and working on means of escape. Judge Anna’s daughter, Queen Airuhbelluh, took a wild guess and got Heteb arrested. One of the queens, Queen Avarose, went insane and kidnapped Zoeabby. Emelea knew that she could either give herself up, and help the children, or run away and leave them. Emelea, knowing how a good parent should act, threw square-shaped dogs at anyone who tried to ride an elephant, and ended up escaping with her children as well (the kidnapped children were found two weeks later by Judge Anna and Inspector Ollie).

“Wow.” Esse said. “I had no idea.”

“Neither did I.” Kennen agreed. They continued while talking about Emelea’s children.

But soon after that, Kennen picked up a new file. “Hey Esse, look at this.” he said. Esse leaned over to see. The file read,

File of Lucjusz Bnmq Erty

“Oh.” Esse said. She looked confused and sad. “Luc has a criminal record? What does it say?”

“Yeah. About that. It’s weird because, you know, no one but us a Weasel Water lou are supposed to touch these but, well, I’ll just show you.” Kennen flipped open the first page and handed the file to Esse.

Status: Deceased LIVING!!!

Or else prove that he’s dead!

“Whoa.” Esse said. “So Luc isn’t a criminal. Who would do that?” Kennen shrugged. “Well, he sighed his name at the bottom.” Kennen said, showing her.

Helpful Comments by Ulul Iflandoonia

“WHAT?!” Esse said. “My Great-Uncle Crab wrote this? Uh!” Kennen looked puzzled. Esse explained for him. “My great-Uncle Crabulul is so rude. But somehow he became a critic, and since he’s a quickwolf, he’s made it his business to go everywhere people want him out of.”

“What’s a quickwolf?” Kennen asked.

“Quickwolves can go so fast, that they vibrate through walls and stuff like that.” Esse answered.

“Wow. So he got into our files?” Kennen said, leafing through the others to see if Crabulul had made any other comments. “Hey, um, Kennen, Annaig is talking to you.” Esse said. Kennen looked up.

Are you sure Luc really is dead?

“Well, um, yeah, right Kennen?” Esse answered.

“Well, yes, I saw it happen! Wait, no. I mean, I saw him go all limp but maybe…” Kennen said, thinking hard.

Maybe you should find out. If you go get supplies from Crabulul I can teleport you wherever you want.

“Oh, Annaig! I want to hug you!” Esse said, jumping up and down. “C’mon, Kennen, let’s go to Great-Uncle Crab!”

Weasel Water Lou of the Peace in Carlos - 4

When Esse picked herself up, all was quiet and dark. Not even gunfire could be heard. It was also quite cold. “Luc? Luc?” Esse hissed. Esse felt a furry hand on her arm.

Esse snuggled up to Luc. He was usually warm, but even Luc was cold in the little room. Esse heard rats scurrying around in the dark shadows. A cold dark voice sounded nearby. “Which one of you is skilled in the art of nymph stories?” it asked. Esse let go of Luc as he stood up. “It-it was me. I knew the nymph stories.” he said. “You knew the stories of Queen Frida’s Dogs and Jennifer and Clara?” the voice asked.

“My-my parents helped me on Jennifer and Clara.” Luc stammered. All was quiet. A small chuckle sounded from the voice. “Don’t hurt them!” Luc cried. “And don’t hurt Esse either!”

Esse felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment, but she was glad that Luc had said that. “I see.” the voice said. “Come here.”

“No.” Luc responded. “You are a stubborn little bear, are you not?” the voice chuckled.

“And what are you?” Esse asked, standing up too.

“Me? I am something you have never heard of, something you may one day wish to have, but will deny wanting right now.” the voice said mysteriously.

“And what is that?” Esse asked, crossing her arms defensively.

“I will tell you later, child. Now, let us see what you want.” the voice said.

“We want a way out of The Peace in Carlos. It is shrinking because for the Carlosians.” Esse told the voice.

“Ah, yes. The Running War, as they call it here.” the voice mused. “And how may I help you with that?”

“Can you answer a question?” Luc asked.

“It depends on the question.” the voice sang out.

“Is this house a gateway out of Carlos and The Peace in Carlos?”

The voice chuckled. “I’m glad you asked.” it said. “Look upon the door.” At once a flickering light lit the wall in front of Esse. A door was set into it the wall. It was made of steel and covered in strange symbols that definitely were not nymph writing.

“This, my children,” said the voice. “is the gateway to another world. To reach it, you must answer this question: What is my name?” And then Esse and Luc were no longer in the room. They were both standing under the window to Johnson & Johnson. The window was placed in it’s socket.

“Wow.” Esse said. It certainly was strange. “Did that even happen?”

“Yes.” Luc said certainly. “It must have. We meet tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Esse agreed. And they went their separate ways.

That night, Esse rushed to the museum. With her family asleep, she could go where she pleased. Esse thought back to when she wished she could enter an adventure. And here she was, in an adventure. She had decided to go back to the invisible house and locate the source of the voice. Esse didn’t know where Luc lived, so she couldn’t ask him to come along. Right?

Outside the Johnson & Johnson recreation, Esse took a running leap at the window. It popped out of the frame, and Esse took another running leap to get a hold of the frame to pull herself through the window. It was much harder without Luc.

Rushing to the little room with Weasel Water Lou’s painting in it, she licked her finger and entered Carlos. Once in Carlos, Esse rushed down the stairs to the room with the voice. Gunfire still sounded through the Carlosian streets even though it was late at night. She put her hand on the door. “Lucjusz Yu Iflandoonia and Quer Ty Iflandoonia.” Esse whispered. The door gave way. She stepped slowly into the dark room.

Maybe the voice wouldn’t notice. “Welcome back, Esse.” the voice said. “I’ve been waiting for you.” But the voice heard her anyway.

“I’m here to decode the door.” Esse said bravely. The light illuminated the door again. Esse knelt in front of the door. She ran her fingers along the symbols as if she could read it like braille. And Esse could. The symbols and their meanings blinked and buzzed inside her head. She murmured the meanings out loud. “Max… Nora… Nils… Su-Li… Ursula… Anica… Liesl.”

“Yes.” the voice murmured. “And who wrote that story?” Esse shuddered. But she knew the answer. She had to answer. “No one wrote the story. It is a true story.” Esse answered.

“And what is the title?” the voice asked, almost in a whisper.

“Queen Gretchen’s Choice.” Esse let out in a breath. And then she was no longer in the small room.

Everything was dark. All around was dark. There was no sky or ground. Esse was in dark, and only dark. She was floating in darkness. Suddenly, a movie seemed to play in front of her. A man and a woman at a wedding. The women was Nora. The man was Max. But there was just one thing. Max was a bear.

The scene changed. Nora and Max were now adopting a child. Two children. Two Earthen children. The African boy was Nils, and the Asian girl was Su-Li. The scene changed. And this time, there was another baby. This was no adoption. This was a real baby, one that Nora had given birth to. But the baby was strange. The baby was half human, and half bear. And then Esse was falling, falling. And everything was dark.

Why intercept?

Why?

Esse Iflandoonia

Illustration courtesy of Teepi Guest

Breton Bauerbecken

Illustration courtesy of Teepi Guest

Breton Wager - 2

After the Christian’s declaration, Breton lost control of the time and was yanked back to Math class. He hit the chair with an, “Oof!” A girl behind him gave him a look, and then continued punching numbers into her calculator. The bell rang, and it was time to pay attention.

Breton turned to the front of the room to watch the teacher. Mr. Brown crossed to the center of the room with great purpose.

“Today! We shall be learning the equation to time travel! Singular One! Let us begin!” Mr. Brown executed every word with a flourish.

Breton decided he no longer wanted to sit through this and with a wink of his eye, slipped out of time.

Breton began to walk towards 9:08, when free period began. He made it halfway down the hallway when he felt the pain hit his head again. What was he doing in Math class? Well, he would know soon enough. He began making his way to the auditorium.

“I suppose you think you’re too good for Math class, then,” the Christian’s voice floated to Breton’s ears, the Christian floating behind it. “You’re such a special time walker, you don’t need to sit through time travel equations.”

Breton wasn’t sure why, but he found himself waiting for the Christian to catch up with him.

“Well?” the Christian asked, reaching Breton’s shoulder. “Are we feeling special this morning?”

“I already know the equation for time travel,” Breton explained as be continued to progress to 9:08.

The Christian followed him closely. “You know, other people would know it too if they were born with special abilities like you, Breton!” he replied derisively.

“I could tell them if they asked,” Breton offered.

“I could tell them if they asked,” the Christian mocked.

Breton reached 9:08 and snapped back into time. The smack of his return caused him to stumble somewhat down the auditorium stairs.

“Breton!”

Two children Breton’s age, his two friends, were the only people in the otherwise empty auditorium. Nashaadh and Rose waved as Breton made his way towards them.

“There you are!” Rose exclaimed. “We were going to start without you!”

“Rose was going to start without you,” Nashaadh clarified. “I would have waited.”

“What were you going to start without me?” Breton asked.

“We’re making posters with things like, Don’t Touch the Lighting Equipment and stuff like that,” Rose answered.

“Since I’m the Backstage Manager and no one else does anything useful around here,” Nashaadh sighed resignedly, picking up a stack of poster paper.

“Hey! I help!” Rose complained. “Look! I brought markers!”

“I know you help, Rosie. And Breton does, too,” Nashaadh quelled Rose. “Thanks, by the way, both of you. Neither of you are even on stage crew.”

“We were hoping you could do the drawings,” Rose said to Breton. “‘Cause you’re good at that kinda thing.”

Rose handed Breton the markers and placed the poster paper in his hands. Nashaadh headed backstage.

“I only draw with pens and ink,” Breton spoke.

“Oh! Well! Mr. Special over here!” Rose cried out. “Only draws with pens!”

Breton was reminded of something.

“Rose! Calm down!” Nashaadh said orderly, returning from backstage with a box full of costumery. “Breton, I’m sure there are some pens in the Art room I can go find for you.”

“The equation for time travel is ((0 − 273.15) × 95 + 32)K + T over 1s(D) times SE,” Breton declared. Nashaadh and Rose stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

“Um, thank you, Breton, but . . . why, I mean, we already know that . . . I can get you some pens, if you want,” Nashaadh spoke uncertainty, placing the box of costumes on the floor of the stage.

“Yeah, because Nashaadh’s mother invented the equation for time travel,” Rose shared loudly.

“Rose, hush,” Nashaadh muttered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go get Breton some pens from the Art room.”

“What? Why me?” Rose whined. “It just started getting interesting!”

“Rose, please,” Nashaadh asked of him.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Rose gave in, jumping off the stage and making his way up the auditorium stairs. “But you guys better not start without me!”

The auditorium door slammed behind Rose as he exited the room.

Nashaadh took a seat on the edge of stage and gestured for Breton to sit beside her. He did.

“Breton,” she stated. “Are you alright?”

“I’m being haunted by a B- Art project,” Breton shared with his cousin. There was a pause as Nashaadh looked off into the distance.

“Out of time?” she asked.

Breton nodded.

“Do you want to talk to my mother about it?”

There was another pause as Breton looked off into the distance.

“Not yet,” Breton decided.

“Okay,” Nashaadh finished.

There was a silence.

The auditorium door slammed. “I’m back!” Rose announced. “And I brought lots of pens!”

Weasel Water Lou of the Peace in Carlos - 5

Esse awoke in a small room with hard red walls. The walls were thin, and light streamed through them. Esse was lying on a small bed with dirty pink blankets. She got up and looked around. Two more dirty pink beds identical to her’s were each in corners of the room. In the last corner was a door.

Esse lept up and flung herself at the door. It didn’t budge.

Of course it was locked. Why wouldn’t it be? There were symbols on it, but they made no sense. The yellow ceiling was cracked and peeling. Small flakes drifted down periodically. It was very quiet. There was no doubt about it. Esse had been kidnapped.

Spying a ladder by her bed, Esse climbed up it. There was nothing on the second floor of Esse’s prison. Just a yellow floor, cracked and peeling like the first-floor ceiling. The ceiling for the second floor was much better than the first floor’s ceiling. It was red like the walls. Esse sighed.

She went back down the ladder and flopped on her bed. Kidnapped by a creepy nixie-bear. Now what?

Outside Esse’s prison, the voice, or, Ursula Kinns, was waiting patiently for Esse’s rescuer to arrive. And she didn’t wait long. He was coming.

A few minutes later, Luc burst through the door. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“Calm down child.” Ursula Kinns said calmly.

“Where is she!?” Luc repeated, yelling this time.

“Esse is perfectly fine.” Ursula Kinns answered. Luc growled. “Show me.” he demanded.

“Oh, well, you’ll have to open the door first.” Ursula Kinns said playfully. “And what’s more, your little friend here knows my name.”

“Wait, what?” Luc said. “My name. The one that opens that door.”

Ursula Kinns flicked her wrist. The door was illuminated by light. “How does she know? Did you tell her? Why her?” Luc had many questions. “Yes, told her. In a way.” Ursula Kinns smiled. “But why would I tell you? You are not the nixie. You can’t go through the door until she does.”

“I can’t?” Luc asked. He was really confused. “I will explain it to you.” Ursula Kinns said. “Come closer.”

Esse was going to get out. She had to. So when she heard Luc outside, she devised a plan. Esse was not about to let some bear come and save her. Though she did like Luc, she could get out herself.

Spells. That must be the key. The bear-lady was definitely using magic of some kind. Esse only knew one spell. It was actually a rather advanced spell. It was turning things into strawberries. Sometimes it was useful. It usually wasn’t.

But hey, maybe it would come in handy now. She was hungry, after all. Esse walked over to the ugliest pink bed and cleaned it the best she could. Then she recited the chant.

Blueberry, Sweet Pea, and White Rose,

Wanted a strawberry and SO DO I!

The bed churned as if it were a liquid. It turned into a pinecone. “Ugh.” Esse said. She didn’t think eating a pinecone would be very delightful. Even if she wasn’t fed, or wasn’t able to get out, a little magic practice could be useful. So she decided to change up the strawberry spell to a new chant.

Mushroom, Chanterelle, and Bumblebee,

Wanted a ladybug and I DO NOT!

The second pink bed turned into a butterfly. It flapped around. “Hello.” it said. “I didn’t like being a dirty pink bed.”

“What were you before a dirty pink bed?” Esse asked. “Oh, I’ve always been a dirty pink bed.” the butterfly replied. “But what I am now is a big improvement.” “You’re a butterfly.” Esse told it.

“Ah, now that’s a pretty name.” the butterfly said, flying around the room. “Oh, what’s up here?” it said, spying the ladder. “Nothing.” Esse answered. “I checked. It’s like this room, just with no beds.”

“What’s this?” the butterfly asked, landing on the pinecone. “It’s a pinecone.” Esse said. “What’s your name?” “Well, ever since I got here, I’ve been called Dirty Pink Bed, but I had a different name when I was young. It was something like…..Kennen. I really think it was Kennen, actually.” the butterfly said.

“My name is Esse.” Esse told Kennen. “Kennen is an interesting name. I like it.” “Thank you.” said Kennen. There was an awkward silence.

“So, um, Kennen, I’m sort of trying to escape.” Esse said. “Do you know a way out?” “No,” Kennen said. “But I can still help.” “There are these symbols on the door.” Esse said, walking over to the door and crouching down. “I have no idea what they mean.” “Me neither.” Kennen said, flying over. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.” Esse sighed. “My friend Luc is outside the door, and he’ll probably save me. I was hoping to save myself.” “Hey!” Kennen suddenly exclaimed. “I know a way we can get you out! There has to be a way the person who trapped you here opened this door, right? Well, I bet I can fly under the door crack, and then see how to get you out. Then, I’ll tell you, and you can escape!”

“Good idea!” Esse agreed, standing up. “Let’s do it!” Kennen crawled under the door crack. So Esse was left to wait.