Elysia Quotes

Vlad had found himself longing to encounter those of his own kind, to travel to the streets of Elysia-that far away world, but after a while it seemed more of a fairy tale than anything else. Like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, only with fangs.

Elysia!" Driggs interrupted. "Slow the hell down." She grinned at Lex. "Sorry. I talk a lot when I get excited." "That's okay," Lex said with an impish nod. "We all have our flaws. Driggs here loves Titanic." "Really??" Driggs folded his arms and studied the girls. "I can already see the ramifications of an alliance between you two. And they are troublesome.

At least yours talks," Elysia said, irritably shoving a fry into her mouth. "Mine just stares. Like a cow.

Stop looking to the sky for answers. The light isn't above you. It's within you.

Barbara had really missed her calling. She should have been a gynecologist. Nothing pleased her more than having her face between another woman’s legs.

It's a timeline!' Elysia exclaimed. 'Thanks, Captain Obvious,' said Ferbus. Elysia glared at him. 'Thank you, Captain Overused Expression.' 'No, thank you, Captain Shut Your Facehole.

As Angelica opened up her eyes, she shuddered in fear at the massive animal that was holding her and fondling her body. I have been captured by a Bigfoot, she thought. The natives were right. There are Bigfoots in the jungles of Elysia. Her body stiffened as she tried to twist away and out of the imprisoning arms of the massive creature that was holding her capture.

Uncle Mort glanced at Pandora, then back at the Juniors. "Okay, kids. Brace yourselves. And try not to yell too much." Elysia's hand tensed on Lex's arm. "I hate it when he says that," she whispered. Uncle Mort gave them a sympathetic smile. "Remember that old chestnut about the wickedest Grim of all time?" He pounded on the roof. Grotton's head popped down through the ceiling, a snaky grin stretching from ear to ear. The screams were so loud, Dora nearly drove into a tree

He could see the Ashfire in her as she soared through the air, the legacy of queens going back centuries. The bravery of Nefyra. The strength of Lyra. The leadership of Elysia. And if history had taught him anything, you did not cross an Ashfire queen.

Saints are mostly people who once walked around and ate breakfast and put their shoes on one at a time, just like you or me. They did something amazing enough that instead of just going to heaven after they die, they became messengers to heaven! Not everybody gets to be a saint through miracles and good deeds, like Saint Elysia. Some saints died while bravely defending their faith. Those saints are called martyrs. Martyrs have died in all kinds of awful ways. If something terrible happens to you, it's probably not as bad as being eaten by lions, like Saint Leonisius was. And if you are being eaten by lions, you know that Saint Leonisius understands. After someone becomes a saint, she sits in heaven and listens to the prayers of living people, and tries to help them. You can choose to pray to a saint who had a problem like yours when they were alive. Or you can pray to a saint who performed the kinds of miracles you're hoping will happen to you - like curing a sickness or surviving a storm at sea.

Lex poked Elysia. “The relationship is going well, it seems.” Elysia’s face erupted with worry. “Oh, Lex, I’m so sorry. It just sort of . . . happened. We were in that hotel for so many days, just waiting around to hear word from Croak, waiting for Mort to figure out a way to rescue you guys. And Wicket and Lazlo not letting us leave, we just went a little stir-crazy and—omigod, I must seem like such a bad friend, and all while you were still stuck in that awful jail and poor Driggs and—” “Lys,” Lex said, taking her by the shoulders before she could launch into a full-blown monsoon of tears. “It’s fine. I think we’ve all learned a thing or two about taking happiness where you can get it. Plus . . . you know. It’s about time.” “About time? What do you mean?” “I mean you two have been itching to get into each other’s pants since the dawn of earth.” Elysia looked shocked for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t know what I’m thinking,” she said, staring back and forth between her mostly uneaten sandwich and Ferbus. “He’s gross. He’s mean. He’s ugly. He’s a lousy drunk, he’s the biggest nerd on the planet, he looks like a leprechaun, his hair is the color of Cheetos—” “And you luuurve him.” Elysia scowled and crossed her arms. “And I lurve him.

Nahida watched as Elysia pulled out some dark lipstick, the color reminding her of a ripe cherry. She patted a small amount on her lips. “I don’t want to apply too much. You have a very fair complexion.

Uncle Mort wouldn’t say another word about the next phase of the plan until they collected the rest of their party, an event that Lex was simultaneously really anticipating and really dreading. On the one hand, she’d get to see her friends again. She could stock up on some of Elysia’s soul-restoring hugs and maybe feel a little less horrid about all that unpleasant business of starting a war. On the other, nastier hand, unless Ferbus had drunk himself into oblivion since the last time she saw him, he’d notice that his best friend had been turned into some sort of ghostish creature. And he’d blame Lex with the fury of a thousand orange-haired dragons. And he’d be correct in doing so. Which meant there was a very good chance that Lex would be receiving a kick to the face or a knee to the gut, or he might just go balls-out and rip out her circulatory system. It would be interesting to see what approach he would take, but not so interesting that Lex was looking forward to finding out

The menu: legendary deep-fried Turkeyzilla, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and green beans. The theme: dysfunction. “So,” Elysia said to Lex’s parents with her ever-friendly grin, “how are you?” “How do you think they are?” Ferbus whispered. She kicked him under the table. “I mean—um—what do you do? For a living?” Lex’s mother, who hadn’t said much, continued to stare down the table at the sea of black hoodies while picking at her potatoes. Lex’s father cleared his throat. “I’m a contractor,” he said. “And she’s a teacher.” “Omigod! I wanted to be a teacher!” Elysia turned to Mrs. Bartleby. “Do you love it?” “Hmm?” She snapped back to attention and smiled vacantly at Elysia. “Oh, yes. I do. The kids are a nice distraction.” “From what?” Pip asked. Bang smacked her forehead. Lex squeezed Driggs’s hand even tighter, causing him to choke on his stuffing. He coughed and hacked until the offending morsel flew out of his mouth, landing in Sofi’s glass of water. “Ewww!” she squealed. “Drink around it,” Pandora scolded. “So! I hear New York City is lovely this time of year.” Well, it looks nice, I guess,” Mr. Bartleby said. “But shoveling out the driveway is a pain in the neck. The girls used to help, but now . . .” Sensing the impending awkwardness, Corpp jumped in. “Well, Lex has been a wonderful addition to our community. She’s smart, friendly, a joy to be around—” “And don’t you worry about the boyfriend,” Ferbus said, pointing to Driggs. “I keep him in line.” Mrs. Bartleby’s eyes widened, looking at Lex and then Driggs. “You have a—” she sputtered. “He’s your—” Ferbus went white. “They didn’t know?” “Oops!” said Uncle Mort in a theatrical voice, getting up from the table. “Almost forgot the biscuits!” “Let me help you with those,” Lex said through clenched teeth, following him to the counter. A series of pained hugs and greetings had ensued when her parents arrived—but the rest of the guests showed up so soon thereafter that Lex hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to them, much to her relief. Still, she hadn’t stopped seething. “What were you thinking?” Uncle Mort gave her a reproachful look. “I was thinking that your parents were probably going to feel more lonely and depressed this Thanksgiving than they’ve ever felt in their lives, and that maybe we could help alleviate some of that by hosting a dinner featuring the one and only daughter they have left.” “A dinner of horrors? You know my track record with family gatherings!” He ignored her. “Here we are!” he said, turning back to the table with a giant platter. “Biscuits aplenty!” Lex grunted and took her seat. “I’m not sure how much longer I can do this,” she whispered to Driggs. “Me neither,” he replied. “I think my hand is broken in three places.” “Sorry.” “And your dad seems to be shooting me some sort of a death stare.” Lex glanced at her father. “That’s bad.” “Think he brought the shotgun?” “It’s entirely possible.” “All I’m saying,” Ferbus went on, trying to redeem himself and failing, “is that we all look out for one another here.” Mr. Bartleby looked at him. Ferbus began to sweat. “Because, you know. We all need somebody. Uh, to lean on.” “Stop talking,” Bang signed. Elysia gave Lex’s parents a sympathetic grin. “I think what my idiot partner is trying to say—through the magic of corny song lyrics, for some reason—is that you don’t need to worry about Lex. She’s like a sister to me.” She realized her poor choice of words as a pained look came to Mrs. Bartleby’s face. “Or an especially close cousin.” She shut her mouth and stared at her potatoes. “Frig.” Lex was now crushing Driggs’s hand into a fine paste. Other than the folding chairs creaking and Pip obliviously scraping the last bits of food off his plate, the table was silent. “Good beans!” Pip threw in.

They landed in a field with a light dusting of snow. “Middle of nowhere?” Elysia said, looking around. “Interesting choice.” “No waaaay!” Thrilled, Ferbus broke from the group and started running toward a series of objects on the horizon. Driggs snickered. “This should be fun.” As they got closer to Ferbus’s shouts of glee, the forms that had made no sense at a distance began to take shape into something that made even less sense: stacks of old automobiles, seemingly dropped from space but arranged in an undeniable pattern. “Carhenge!” Ferbus jubilantly danced through the pillars, taking it all in. “Man, you hear about it, you dream about the day you might get to see it, but it’s even better than I imagined!” Elysia blinked. “What is Carhenge?” “Don’t you get it?” said Ferbus, the grin still on his face. “It’s like Stonehenge.” He pointed. “But with cars.” The Juniors stared at him. Bang coughed. “Well,” said Uncle Mort after a moment, “as riveting as”—he consulted his atlas—“rural Nebraska is, it’s probably best that we keep moving.” Ferbus’s face fell. “But the gift shop.” Uncle Mort rubbed his temples. “Tell you what, next time we’re being chased by a murderous criminal, I’ll try to schedule in a little more time for sightseeing.” He formed the Juniors back into a circle. “Let’s not assign a designated driver this time. We’ll scythe, and whoever thinks of something first, somewhere farther east—that’s where we’ll go. Ready?” *** This time around they were greeted by the stoic faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, all wearing caps of snow. “Ooh, Mount Rushmore,” Ferbus said bitterly. “Because dead presidents are so much more fascinating than the subtle, delicate art of automotive sculpture.” “East!” Uncle Mort said, exasperated. “Not north!

Though just so you’re prepared, they’re not a totally comprehensive network, so there will be a few places where you’ll have to sneak back into the public areas of Necropolis.” “And how are we going to do that?” Elysia asked. Skyla grinned. “Beats me. Can’t wait to see what you come up with.” “All right, enough fake planning,” said Uncle Mort. “I’m assuming these guys aren’t going to be knocked out forever—” “Two hours,” Skyla said with pride. “Two—” Uncle Mort stared at her with an expression that morphed from outrage to envy to unadulterated lust. “Brilliant. We might just have a little time left over for—” “What?” she said, smirking as she packed up her stuff. “Eight ball in the corner pocket?” Uncle Mort reddened and adjusted his pants. Lex leaned in to Elysia. “I don’t even know how to handle what’s happening right now.

The next twelve hours in the Stiff were decidedly less than pleasant. After several heated rounds of the License Plate Game, Pip decided to invent the Flick Ferbus in the Ear Game, which soon became the Ferbus Yells So Loud He Bursts Eardrums Game. Elysia yelled at him for yelling at Pip, causing Pandora to yell at everyone. “Shut the hell up or I’ll wrap this car right around a tree, and don’t you think for a second that I won’t!” “But he’s flicking me!” said Ferbus. Uncle Mort turned around in his seat. “Are we in preschool, Ferb? Is he breathing on you, too?” “Actually, he is. And he still won’t give me credit for spotting the Alaska plate first.” “Because you didn’t spot the Alaska plate first,” said Pip. “PIP, I SWEAR ON ALL THAT IS HOLY I WILL POP YOUR EYEBALLS OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND EAT THEM WITH A SIDE OF YOUR LEFT—” “Enough!” Uncle Mort yelled.

His eyes were getting that intense look again, so Lex tapped him on the shoulder. “So,” she said loudly, “what’s our next move?” He blinked a couple of times. “Well, it should be slightly easier to move now that it’s getting on toward nighttime. Fewer people around, less likely we’ll be spotted. On the other hand, things will be much quieter, and with you elephants stomping around, there’s a greater chance of someone hearing us—” “Hang on,” said Elysia. “We’re not stopping for the night?” Uncle Mort paused to stare at her. “We’re a little pressed for time here, Lys.” “Yeah, but—” She looked to Ferbus for help. “It’s just that we’re kind of, um, exhausted.” “And hungry,” Ferbus added. “And some of us really have to pee,” said Pip. Pandora raised two fingers. “And other things.” Uncle Mort irritably ran a hand through his hair. “So what are you saying?” he asked. “You want to camp out for the night? Where do you propose we do that?” “Well, obviously we can’t stay here,” said Lex. “But we can’t leave until we know where we’re going—” “For cripes’ sake, enough with the drama!” Pandora said, blowing past him. “Everything is a crisis with you people. Stairs are hard, that tunnel’s too small, my sister died—sack up already! You really want somewhere to sleep?” She flung the front door open. “Come on. I know a place.” *** “The National Museum of Grimsphere History?” Elysia said, reading the sign before them. “OH no,” Ferbus said. “We’re not going to have to learn things, are we?” “And risk pushing out the space in your brain devoted to basic motor skills?” Pandora said. “Heavens, no.

We have to get to a hospital,” Elysia said, straining under the weight of Ferbus. “We’re losing him.” “Your FACE is losing him,” Ferbus confirmed.

snatched it up and shoved it into her sack without leaving her shelter. Score. What she couldn’t eat right away she could slice and dry in the stifling summer heat. The scuffle continued, and Elysia

There’s nothing I can do but make the best. New path, new opportunities. It can be scary. That’s okay. Being a little scared keeps us on our toes.

...there is a somewhere else after this, where everyone drinks elysia and lives forever.

After finding Corpp’s devoid of Juniors later that evening, it didn’t take Lex and Driggs long to guess that their crew had decided to hole up in the Crypt’s common room for the night. Together they headed down Dead End and made their way through a darkened, narrow tunnel, eventually emerging into a small green courtyard surrounded by a block of rooms. As they approached the largest one, a heated argument between Sofi and Ayjay wafted through the window. “I’ve got ten hotels on the Conservatory. Seriously, you owe me, like, eighty gatrillion dollars.” “Not until I get my triple-letter score for passing Go.” “No way! You couldn’t remove the Charley Horse, remember?” “So? I still found the Lead Pipe in Park Place!” “Which you had to mortgage after Queen Frostine totally sank your battleship!” Lex attempted to follow this conversation as she walked through the door, but she failed somewhere around the time Elysia almost toppled over on the Twister mat. “Jump in,” Elysia said from the floor, wobbling way too close to the jellyfish tank. “There are a couple of tokens left in the box.” Driggs sat down on one of the many battered couches and dug through the box, removing a wrench, a top hat, a rook, a green gingerbread man, and a decapitated Rock’Em Sock’Em Robot. Lex looked at the game board on the table, a mangled conglomeration of Monopoly, Clue, Candy Land, Scrabble, and chess. “What the crap?” she asked the room. “Don’t touch the Candlestick or you’ll automatically lose,” Elysia warned from the mat, flicking the spinner with her free hand

You’re just a kid. Have fun. Go play in the fluff.” “Not over here, though,” said a pale, miserable figure from behind a nearby pile. “I’ve constructed a Fortress of Solitude.” Lex watched the dentist for a moment more, then gave up. “What’s wrong, Edgar?” “Nothing.” He pouted. “Okay, everything.” He sighed dramatically as he approached, greasy black hair falling into his face. “I bit my tongue this morning, I dropped guacamole onto my favorite boots, Teddy Roosevelt made fun of my mustache, and—oh yeah—I’m dead.” He crossed his arms with a small huff. “Hey, Quoth,” Lex said to the bird atop his shoulder, “go poop on Teddy Roosevelt.” The raven gave a slight nod as he launched into the air and flew over to the tangle of presidents, where he stopped, aimed carefully, and dropped a plump white bomb directly onto the face of America’s twenty-sixth. Edgar stuck out his tongue. “Where’s your big stick now, Teddy Bear?” “Dammit, Poe!” Teddy roared, shaking his fist. “I’ll get you for this!” Edgar let out a screech not unlike that of a seven-year-old girl. He dove back into his fortress, sending clouds of the white fluff into the air. Lex watched them float around, her mind clicking onto something— “Oh my God, that’s it!” She jumped up from the desk. “Elysia, I’ll catch you later. Edgar—you’re a genius.” “I am aware of that,” a muffled voice replied

Swipers use their scythes a little differently,” Elysia continued. “They open up small windows into the ether—just large enough for them to reach through—and take supplies that generally go unnoticed from places like large warehouses, back rooms of grocery stores, Laundromats—” “Laundromats?” “You should see our sock inventory,” Driggs said. “Massive.” Elysia nodded. “We’re pretty isolated out here, so it’s a really efficient system.” Lex was dumbfounded. “I had no idea petty theft was such a noble endeavor.” “Well,” said Zara, “when you think about the gracious services we provide to the citizens of this world, it’s only fair. People should be thankful we don’t charge more

What’s wrong?” Elysia asked, concerned. “Is it the fact that the very foundation of our world is crumbling all around us and we’re barreling forth into a hellish vision of uncertainty and terror the likes of which have never been seen?” “Sounds wonderful to me,” Edgar said, drifting by.

Ten coins? Ten measly fucking coins? Most folks have never even seen a damn flower in Kava! You could make a killing if you wanted.”  Elysia bristled, muttering under her breath as she put away her supplies. “I make enough, okay? You drugged-up cow’s ass.