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Whisper lionille December 22 2008, 00:42:07 UTC
Everywhere Chandler went in the following days he was accompanied by a fog of whispers swirling around his periphery.

"Who's he going to pick?"

"Do you think he'll decide today?"

He ate his meals alone, he spent hours in his quarters with a map of the waterfront community where the sea nymph and her nine children lived in a dilapidated house of driftwood on the beach, just alongside the harbor with its system of interconnected docks. He thought about who to choose as his flyer.
There were three groups of people who had flyer capabilities: the Lusians, the elves, and the Glissers.

Of Lusians, there was currently only one: Seabell. She had already come to him to volunteer, and he already had told her no, and there had been a very unpleasant scene that Chandler did not want to look back on, as it filled him with guilt and regret. Seabell was a sweet kid, really, and she had saved his life once upon a time, even though the result of that hadn't been exactly what he'd wanted.

The elves on the whole actually enjoyed the work here at the agency, and while they were undoubtedly the very best flyers, (they made the best pickers, as well) none of them were particularly keen to take up on Madcarver's offer.

That left the Glissers. This was a shadowy, little understood crew, who kept to themselves individually as much as possible, and rarely shared the stories of how they had come be at the agency. As they were notoriously difficult to sneak up on, there were a fair number of them. But they themselves made excellent droppers, and rarely woke their chosen. Mallon Avery was chief among Chandler's candidates for approaching to be his flyer in the Llewinsky mission. He was cool under pressure, moved as quietly as a barn owl, and had a zero add rate.

He was, in short, perfect.

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