farsickness | Like A Hundred Million Suns

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Like A Hundred Million Suns

WHO: Merlan, open

WHEN: April 20th-30th

WHAT: Merlan being Merlan, selling stuff and getting into skirmishes

WHERE: Around Gazin, The Forge

WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, gross wounds?

1. Market Day [OPEN]

Gazin’s Market Day was every fifth day for Merlan, a place where she could sell her wares — magic and not. It was also a good day to chat with people here and there and catch up on what people have been up to in their lives. She’s all bright and sunshine, chatting here and there, her eyes light with happiness.

“You don’t look like you need a protection medallion,” she says with a laugh and a smile.

2. [Bucky] Monsters In the Night

She's late on the road coming back from Gazin, late and laden with the things she bought from market and the trees whisper in the wind. Fresh milk, fresh bread, sugar, some salt, fresh flour (Bucky Barnes making pancakes in her kitchen, the air thick with honey and the scent of cooking cakes on the griddle, the scent of coffee rousing her from bed, his voice all around her), and honey she can almost taste on her lips. A new flat pan. A new tunic folded neatly into the saddlebag.

She never bought much, just enough to get them through. The flour, sugar, and salt were staples. The pancakes were a necessity. She'd never been big on them before but the times have changed and she's a fucking angel, isn't she? A strange cry in the woods shifts her mind back to the here and now as she touches the talisman that has become a reminder of him and his security -- a wolf set against a soft, warm, shell of a moon. She speeds up, urging Thunder faster just because she's paranoid and the safe paths aren't always safe.

There's no one else out here. It's late enough that the sun's setting, late enough for the spooks to get started terrifying travellers, late enough for the unthinkable. It's late enough but on the home stretch as they race for the Forge and its magical barrier. Something flickers orange and <I>God</i> she remembers that smell.

Bog wight. They sure hated her.

A pain slams through her head as something blunt crashes into her temple and she's knocked from her horse. Everything blurs as she hits the road and rolls. The creature screams in triumph, letting the horse keep moving. Thunder will find Bucky, will lead him back here. Her sword is out as she rolls back up to her feet but it's not the right sword, it's not silver. Long, slender fingers close around her throat as her wings flare out to knock the creature away.

Everything hurts from her head to her toes to something that’s broken and trying to mend. She winces and realises it’s more than one and they’re working together.

They lunge and fire blooms along her side as claws find their mark.

Agony immediately follows as she launches herself skyward and the pain in her head blossoms like fireworks, red and black spots clouding her vision as she begins to lose altitude over the Forge. She doesn't even feel it when she hits the earth.

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Bucky had been worried when Thunder had come barreling back home but that worry had turned into full crisis when his girlfriend literally dropped from the sky in front of him. He's never seen anything like that and honestly, it's something new every day with Merlan. This isn't one of those new things he's learned that he loves, though - this is panic inducing for most people.

Bucky isn't most people. He compartmentalizes his emotions and focuses on getting Merlan up from the ground and into his arms. She's unconscious and he talks to her, trying to get her to wake up and focus on him.

"Hey, Merlan," he says, cradling her in his arms to carry her inside. "Merlan, it's Bucky. Merlan. Wake up, all right? You had a crash landing."

She's a mess, bruises marring one side of her face in deep purple-blacks, an arm with the same deep contusions, the rip of her tunic reveals a bloody mess that's quickly turning into a hot infection. She doesn't even stir at his words and lies limp, without fight in her. If she'd been awake, the vertigo of moving would have made her cry out and probably would have made her horribly ill. As it was, her face paled considerably, paler as they move inside.

It had been an all out fight, an unexpected one, which means they'd be waiting out there or nearby. The sword could wait, everything could, because Merlan Margaret O'Keefe was down for the count this time.

Well, fuck. She's the one with all the magic to heal herself and Bucky only knows how to patch up wounds in the crudest ways possible. He doesn't know what to do other than carry her inside and lay her down as gently as he can on the bed.

He doesn't want to leave her but he does to get water and a clean cloth so he can start wiping away some of the blood. God, what is he going to do?

"Merlan," he tries again. "It's James. You wanna wake up for me? Please?"

"James," she sighed, her voice barely audible as if she's finding him, coming home to him or trying.

There are healers in town who know how to deal with shit like this and she should have said something about it, just in case. She'd feel bad about it if she wasn't fighting so much damage. She hears him, though, and fights harder to climb through the darkness to the one place she'd rather not be -- conscious. Her voice is faint.

It's not alright. Nothing about this is.

"Gazin," she murmurs, her breath coming in hard pants. Even if he was right there, she couldn't see him properly, though she tries. One of her eyes is swollen shut, the other is tearing in a stream. Everything hurts, especially the spreading infection creeping up her side.

"Healer. Bog wights, three of them. First...potion in saddlebag. I can take that. Minor wounds. Then go, ride Thunder? Wagon? Fast. Find healer at Ramos Crossing Inn. Past the stables."

Vaguely, she wonders if he can ride or if once she's better they'll have to work on that. But whatever he needs to do to get himself to Gazin and back, she knows he'll do it. Thunder is just an option. There was also a wagon. He could cart her there and back.

And then all she can do is breathe for a while, her throat closing now and again as she struggles. It's not pretty at all but she's always been a fighter. No bog wight was going to take her down. Then again, she might be immortal but that doesn't mean wounds slide of her like rain. This was a great deal of damage to be taking on all at once, angel or human. And if she'd been human, she was pretty sure she'd have been dead by now.

The more superficial wounds have begun closing at least but it's small comfort.

"Take. Silver weapon. Just in case," she says after a moment of just trying to breathe. There are bubbles of blood that form and break as she gets little sentences out.

"Silver," she presses. Merlan does her best to stay awake for him and it's her very best because everything in her wants her out completely.

"Oh. Flour," she whispers between breaths. "I got you flour...for pancakes."

It's a lot to process all at once. Bucky actually doesn't know how to ride a horse but he guesses there's no time like the present to figure it out. When she insists he take a silver weapon, he grabs a short sword and stuffs it in his belt before going and getting the potion she'd mentioned.

"Take this before I get you up on this horse, all right?" he says, tipping the bottle against her lips. "And I'm glad you got the flour but you didn't have to go and get yourself half killed to do it. I coulda done without for once."

He gently lifts her up and carries her inside, pressing a kiss against her brow. "Gonna go get that healer. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"Mm, on sale, too," she adds and huffs a soft, slurring sort of laugh. "I hate bog wights. Be. Careful." Merlan catches his free wrist, squeezing it gently.

The potion goes down like a tumbler of whiskey, hot and rough, and her insides burn like fire. She shudders and that tears at her side and the long gashes which have been doing their best to knit. His kiss feels cool and she hums a soft note.

"Already did my stupid for the year," she says softly between shivers. The potion helps and the dark bruises begin to fade but her side is a disaster. The blanket is going to be a loss with all the blood but she does what she can with it to stem the bleeding. Thunder, trained like the war horse he was, will carry him to and from Gazin like the wind. It's not so far a trip and he knows the way in the fading light. Hopefully, the bog wights have gone off in search of easier prey and Bucky ~~James, always James~~ won't have to fight them, too. That is a soft burble of prayer to whatever is out there looking down on them, whoever put them in the same space as each other and gave them permission to fall into all of this together.

Her good eye finally opens long enough to follow him about until he's gone and the front door shuts. Merlan's breath slows in relief as she lets the weight of her body press on the wounds. Everything dims and pulses but aside from the low, ragged sounds of her breathing and the drum of her heart in her head, it's quiet.

It's frighteningly quiet.

"It's alright. I'm not alone. I've got James Bucky Barnes," she whispers into that silence, filling it up with her pained and brittle voice. "It's alright."

There and back again takes thirty-two minutes at a gallop. She swallows down a fresh wave of pain and starts counting as her fingers brush over the wolf pendant at her neck.

Everything was going to be fine.

There and back takes too damn long is what it does.

It's not hard to find the healer and Bucky tries to explain the situation as best he can. It's a weird one, to be sure - he doesn't think that there's a lot of angels or a lot of crash landings around here but injuries are injuries.

Bringing the healer back is easy, too, and when he gets back to the house, he helps the healer down off the back of Thunder and goes back to the room where he's laid Merlan down in the bed.

"Here she is, do what you can do, tell me what I need to do too. I can do anything you tell me to do."

The bruising on her face is much better when they come through the door, though that other eye didn't want to open. The healer's words are a murmur, too soft for her to catch as he moves quickly to look over the wounds, his lip curling in distaste. She offers little complaint, her eyes on James, wordlessly drinking the sight of him in as if he were the real balm.

Some of the pain fades in her face when the healer touches it, says something in a language she doesn't know. He has a strong face for a slight man that says he's seen too much as he looks at her side and motions for James in a tone that says 'this is going to hurt more than anyone would like.' There are words for wounds like hers and they aren't good ones, septic comes to mind as he looks at the virulent pockets building in bubbles and stretches along the ragged line of gashes. She wonders if it will scar.

"I have to draw the poisons out of her or she will not recover," he says quietly to Bucky. "I'll need a bucket, hot water, clean cloth. I have everything else needed in my kit." Drawing poison out didn't sound like it was going to be fun at all but if it was down to her survivability, she was game. There is a bucket in the kitchen, fresh cloths as well, and thanks to magic, hot water on tap--hot enough for the purpose of drawing infection to the surface.

"Child," he says kindly, "you must be very strong, this will be extremely unpleasant." He first took out a phial that glowed a soft, steady blue, and tipped the contents into her mouth. "This is the best I can do to mute the pain but it does not last all that long. It will have to be long enough to free you of the infection."

Merlan groaned softly as all the various hurts died down to a fraction of what they had been. Anaesthetic, clearly, and potent. Tears welled up, too, but she put on a quiet, brave face. His eyes found and held hers.

"The best your man can do is hold you still for me," he says, his words low and soothing. "The quicker we can get you free of the poison the better it will be for all of us." Her breath came easier but there was still a rasping, frightening quality to it that lingered and fooled no one. At the moment, she was dying, slower now, though, but it was still a thing. Her eye, the good one, searched for James and when she found him, she offered him a slight pull of a smile.

"James, it'll be," she said very softly, her words a little slurred, "alright, mm? If you're holding me," her eye closed wearily. He would ground her and she would take comfort from it. No death today, she'd promised.

The healer glanced to Bucky and nodded as he finished laying out his tools but there was something softer in his face, now. Love and faith were good for moments like this that tested one's resolve and he knew it when he saw it.

Bucky has been through a hell of a lot of pain but he's never been able to stand pain in other people. He hasn't ever handled it well when someone is hurting and he's standing by. He gets the hot water and the cloth because those are physical things he can do and it makes him feel like he's helping.

When the healer says the best thing he can do is help hold Merlan down, he nods. Sure, it's bothering him but he can't wear his emotions on his face when he has to be the strong one right now for her. He kneels down next to the bed.

"All right. You're gonna hold onto me and I'm not going to let you go anywhere. That's a deal, right? Between you and me?"

"Deal," she whispers and her expression says she means it. She won't go anywhere he's not, that's the real deal. Right now, it's just pain and she knows pain means she's living through it. Her eye finds his face and stays there, a little glassy but there and when the real pain begins that's where it stays. Whatever comes out of her is gross and all fire and takes forever to drain but she bears it. She stays, too, she stays put and awake, even if tears slide down her cheeks, even when she feels like screaming. And she knows she can't scream, because they'd have to take a break and she's not sure she can take it if they stop and have to start again.

When he's finally done, he gives her another cooling phial, then walks out the door to dispose of the noxious content of her wounds. She smells something awful burning but she says nothing for the longest time, just turns her hot cheek against James as best she can.

"Still here," she whispers. Her voice is worn, exhausted, and after another few minutes of holding onto James, she eases up and breathes through it. It's better, the pain, cleaner but she's still trembling as she threads her fingers with his. She'll heal quicker now, she knows that on instinct.

The healer's back sans bucket and he carefully dresses her wounds, his large hands far gentler than she'd expect. The gashes are already starting to knit but in a puckered sort of way that speaks of scarring. It's a price to pay, she supposes. The healer helps change her clothes into something more comfortable and strip the bed of the bloodied blanket, cleaning the room of the worst of the incident, giving them a little distance from it all. Merlan reluctantly lets go of James during the process but her fingers find his again as the healer sits back on his heels, watching them.

"You did well," he says softly, "both of you. Let me know if the infection returns but you should be fine in a few days, perhaps a week or two at the latest. Keep her quiet, nothing too exciting or strenuous, hm? She's had a bad shock to her system, it'll take a touch of time for everything to go back to normal. If there's a place to bed for the night, I'll take it just in case I'm needed."

"Plenty of space," Merlan says, "pick a hut. It's safe in here." He smiles at them and nods.

"Your roof," he says as he leaves, "has more three-eyed crows in one place than I have seen in many a year. I warrant they're here to watch over you. A good omen, I would say. Now, both of you, rest."

The door shuts and they're alone as she leans her cheek against his cooler skin and lets out a soft sound. The pain ebbs and flows but it's so much better, not that rotten, sick to the soul feeling that it had been. The phial helps with it and will wear off in a good thirty minutes or so but for now, her head aches but her thoughts are clear.

"You okay?" she asks softly as if he's the one hurt and not her. Merlan worries, she can't help herself, and turns dry lips against his knuckles because moving further would be a strain she's not ready to bear.

"Me? I'm not the one who almost got clawed in half here," Bucky says, incredulous that she'd ask. He's seen injuries before, gruesome ones, but it's always harder to see them on someone else than it is to see them on himself. He can bear his own pain - watching another's pain is something else entirely.

He strokes back a bit of her hair as gently as he can manage it. She's like a paper doll to him just now, fragile in a way she shouldn't be, and he wants to be mindful of that.

"I'm good. What do you need from me, huh? You have to rest. Doctor's orders. He sounded pretty serious about it."

"I'm not the only one he told to rest," she says gently. Merlan can feel the exhaustion pulling her down but she's freezing, too. "Come keep me warm, James Bucky Barnes."

His whole name comes out quiet in a soft huff of a sigh. Her eyes close only because she can't keep them open but she's awake still, her heart beating hard and quick, reverberating through her like a drum. Try as she might, she has no control over it. Some of it is fear, she knows, some of it is the sheer amount of healing that needs to be done. Her fingers tremble as she pulls them back under the covers, curling them into the warmth of the blanket but it doesn't help as much as she'd hoped.

She's freezing.

"Just keep me warm," she murmurs, making a last effort to crack an eye open to look at him, just for a while. "I'll rest better with you." That's the truth, she will. She always does.

Edited 2021-05-13 16:28 (UTC)

"Well, if you want me in here, I'll slide in," Bucky says, grinning at her. He strips off his shirt and pants and does just that, curling around her body so he can warm her up. He loves her and he wants to take care of her - and this is how he takes care of her.

"Get in my arms," he says, opening them for her.

She does, shifting herself until she's tucked into his arms the way she knows she wants to be. Merlan presses her back against his chest with a sigh, letting his arms close around her. He'll keep her safe and warm since she can't seem to do it herself.

She wants to sleep, she really does, but her own body is a warzone. The exhaustion pulls her into light dozes that end in abrupt starts, her fingers curling against his arm. Nothing about this is easy but she's got him right there. She leans her head back against his shoulder and just tries to breathe as the phial's effects start to wear off.

The healing is brutal and she presses her lips together to suppress soft pained noises she know he'll catch anyway. In between waves of it, she rests in the simple contact of his body against hers. She warms slowly, shifting a little against him to find the most comfortable position. Her fingertips find his cheek absently for a moment as she lets out a breath.

"M'still here," she murmurs as if convincing herself more than him, her voice cracking a little.

"I know, Angel. I don't know if I settled on a pet name really. I've been trying them out in my head."

This probably isn't the time to go into something so trivial but Bucky just lets her shift in his arms and get more comfortable or at least as comfortable as she can while healing up from so many injuries.

"You find anything you like, you can stop me and I'll stick with it."

She hums a soft note and curls her fingers against his arm. Merlan's not sure she's got one for him or if she ever will. He's James but she's fine with one from him. Angel works because she is one and she half huffs a silent laugh at how easy that would be.

Her fingers trace lazy shapes as another stab of pain jolts through her, it interrupts the path of her fingertip for a moment but she keeps moving through it. Easy breaths in, hold for a moment, long breath out.

He likes pet names and it makes her smile.

"Hey, tell me if you need anything," Bucky says, voice warm and soft. He doesn't want her to want for anything while she's injured and he can tell she's in pain just by the way she's breathing. It must have been sharp just now and he tries to tamp down the urge to embrace her; it'll just hurt her more.

"I'm here, all right? I'm always just gonna be right here as long as you need me to be."

"Just you," she says, her voice low and quiet. He's right there, familiar, an easy comfort, sweet and good and she's never needed him so much. Her fingers find his hand and she links her fingers with his, her touch a little shaky.

The rapid healing hasn't ever been tested like this and she's quiet for a while, a long while.

"Going to be a long time, then," she finally murmurs, her smile soft as she turns it against his shoulder. She does need him right where he is, as close as possible, holding onto her. He keeps her present, warm, keeps her fighting, too, and that's what she needs most. Merlan drops in and out of consciousness but she comes back to him, shifting slightly, touching him as if to see if she's actually awake or not because he's real and solid and there.

Something smoothes out inside of her -- the pain finally lessens -- and she lets out a soft sigh in relief. The broken bones ache but are mending and the pain is more tolerable than her side which pulses in sharp stabs and quieter throbbing as the wounds knit together. On anyone else, they'd need stitches or maybe surgery but she's healing weeks of damage in hours. Muscle and tissue re-knits, skin reforms over it but it's in pangs that take her by surprise. Now? Now, it's not so bone-deep but her side cramps and the muscles knot as things do their best to heal right.

"You're here, safe, with me," she sighs wearily, "that's all I need right now." She pauses for a moment, assessing, then sags in blessed relief against him. "I think the worst is over. Not going to be doing much for a while, though. No forge or magic work, for sure."

"Well, luckily you've got someone whose main talent is hauling around heavy shit," Bucky says, laughing softly. "You keep me around for that, I know. You don't even have to lie about it."

He's glad she's feeling better though and he pulls her a little more firmly into his arms, hand stroking her hair so he can comfort her in whatever way he can.

"You need anything right now?"

"Mm, sole purpose," she teased, letting herself sink against him. Her eyes closed in contentment before she sighed opened them again. They were both fine, now, though one still was a little bruised. Most of the healing had been major efforts like closing the gashes on her side and eliminating whatever was left of the poison.

"Much as I hate the thought of you moving, I should eat something simple and drink some water." She was, actually, parched now that she thought of it but there had been so much going on in the last few hours she hadn't really thought about it. Or needing food to fuel the process. It made sense, though. "Before you go..."

She shifted around slowly to face him so she could lean up and kiss him gently for a long moment, ignoring the spasms in her side that shuddered through her. It didn't hurt, not really, but it felt strange, like silent fireworks blossoming along her side. The whole area was still on fire, still incredibly tender, but kissing James let her ignore it.

The kiss lets him relax for a moment. If she's feeling good enough to kiss him then she is getting better and if she's asking for food, that's even better still. He deepens it a little before he pulls away and gives her a slow smile.

"Let me bring you something to eat and we can see about making sure you heal up all right. I want to do everything I can to make it easier."

He doesn't remember the last time he took care of anyone but it feels nice, in a way, to be depended on.

Her knuckles brush his cheek and she hums, the sound quiet but warm. It's an easy thing, this, them and there hasn't been a time with him that hasn't been full of care and love. She supposes this is what things are supposed to be like. Safe and warm and right even when there are bog wights and hags and things that go bump in the night to hurt them.

Merlan's not sure what would have happened had he not been there. It probably wouldn't have been good, that's for sure.

"You are," she says softly, settling back on her uninjured side with a little difficulty. She's by no means all healed and she knows it, every line of her body knows it but certain things are a must and they definitely include kissing the man she loved.

Another kiss makes it hard to pull away from her but he does because she needs water and she needs something to eat. He brings her both, simple things that won't bother her stomach, and settles on the edge of the bed so he can hold the tray for her. He doesn't know if Merlan is going to feel like sitting up just yet.

"You need my help trying to eat this or are you feeling better enough to manage it on your own? I'm not used to taking care of anyone," he warns. "So it's all new to me. I'm not a very good nurse."

"You're doing fine," Merlan says in a quiet voice as she works her way sitting slowly, carefully, thinking it's better to be propped up and trying to eat than laying down. It hurts but in the end it's worth it. Her fingers touch his reassuringly. "Everything aches but I think I can get it down alright." A few fingers are definitely broken from when she's hit the road but she does her best to avoid using them.

Her eyes find his face where she lingers for a while before working to get the food down where it'll do some good. It all tastes good, probably better than it should just because it's been ages since she's had anything. She eats slowly, though, not wanting to fill up too quickly.

"I'm not the best of patients but I'm trying. I keep wanting to use things I shouldn't." By the end of the meal, there's a sheen of sweat on her forehead and she finds she's cold again, really cold and she feels strangely feverish. The water helps a little with the spots that dance before her eyes but she's a little out of breath and shivering. Merlan blinks a few times to try and clear her vision. Maybe too much effort too quickly. Maybe it had been creeping up on her for a while. Articulating it does work so well, so she just keeps her eyes on him and tries to take measured breaths. He's a better distraction than anything she might think up, anyway.

"You think you're done with that for right now?"

Bucky feels like she's flagging a little and he wants to make everything as easy as possible for her. Besides, she seems to like having him around for comfort and it satisfies his need to take care of her and make sure that she's all right.

"I can take it back to the kitchen and get back in bed with you if you want? Looks like rest is going to be the best thing for this."

"Please to both." She nods a little and it makes her head pound. "I guess," she lets out a long sigh, "this isn't going to be an easy fix. I hope that healer left more potion bottles or we'll have to dip into mine."

Her body lets her know it's not happy at all, too, and for a moment her breathing quickens as she tries to keep herself conscious. It's a strange dimming, flickering of a tunnel and she winces as she grabs a handful of blankets as if to keep herself upright. She can't take anything potion-wise for a while. Not at least for another hour. The pounding in her head recedes a little to the point where colours start to wash back in and the rushing in her ears eases. Her eyes flutter back open and she can hear him in the kitchen.

Her colour is a bit grey by the time he gets back, her skin clammy, but at least she hadn't faded right out. Merlan pulls the blankets back for him, listing a little to one side.

"Hey, you don't look so good," Bucky says, frowning a bit. He'd never expected to see her like this, what with all her powers, and it worries him. Neither of them are ever supposed to be injured like this. It's part of what they are.

"What do you need? Just to be held, you think? Because I can keep doing that."

"Feels better when you're close," she says in a worn, soft voice. "Everything keeps going grey and washing out. It seems better when you're holding me, though."

She's not sure why but it is what it is, she supposes. Maybe this will pass quickly and it's just a side effect from being poisoned. Because that's probably the truth. Bog wights are virulent when it comes to scratches more so when the wounds are open. Maybe it's because they're magical.

"Magic is probably the root of the reaction."

"So what are those things anyway? I know a lot of shit about weird things - I'm not exactly normal - but I have to admit that magic isn't something I'm real familiar with."

He's used to super soldiers and people who can fight beyond the limits of a normal man but he doesn't know what to do with angels and magic and these bog wights.

"Would they poison me enough to kill me? Because damn near nothing can kill me."

"I don't know," she admitted in a strained voice. "You might shake it off better than I've been doing. Whatever they have in that poison, it sure doesn't sit well with me. It must be magically interfering with my ability to heal somehow or there's more to it than I realise. I've just never felt so ill before."

Merlan pauses to close her eyes as the spots come back and her breathing turns a little laboured. It'll pass. She'll just talk her way through it.

"I'm surprised it's hit me this hard. Surprised enough to wonder if there wasn't some sort of hex in there as well. As for you, I would hope it wouldn't but I just don't have enough information on these particular bog wights to know. The one I fought earlier didn't seem to be the same kind."

She blanches at the thought of him poisoned by bog wights and leans back into a pillow, making a vicious sort of note to research them more thoroughly the next time she had a chance to go into town.

"I could probably one-up the healer with my healing skills if you did get wounded by one. Too bad I can't heal myself any faster, though I think I've reached my limit for today and it's slowed back down some." Her fingers tremble a little as she curls them around a fistful of blanket.

"Well, for right now I'm going to take care of you for once. Curl up and rest, all right? I'm not going anywhere and you ought to be plenty warm. I put off heat like a furnace."

It's because of the serum in part because his metabolism is so fast but he'd been like that before.

"I heard girls liked that."

"Mm, I'll do my best," she says softly but knowing he'll be there keeping her warm helps. "This girl sure does like it. It's a mystery why I'm always so cold but I'll take as much heat as you want to throw my way."

Her lips are cool when they find his temple. He is blessedly warm and she tucks herself against him as close as she can get.

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Like A Hundred Million Suns

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