Greg responds...

Ever is a long time. Not for centuries at least. Oberon isn't exactly forgiving.

Greg responds...

Merlin isn't Duval. And Arthur's been asleep for some time, so he isn't presently on any kind of terms with anyone from his past.

Greg responds...

"Future Tense" the episode or the proposed spin-off series?

I had a lot of plans for the clones, too many to relate them all here. As you all may be noticing, when I'm asked a question THAT large, I'm less likely to give a worthwhile response. I'm not saying you can't ask, just that this Q&A format may not be the best forum for questions that require novel- length responses.

Greg responds...

Good question. I'd have to ask them, but I'm pretty sure we're looking at an only child. And a handful.

Greg responds...

1) We tried to make it clear, but I can see how it would have been tough to catch it. Phoebe is the blonde, pleasant one. Seline is the raven-haired hardcase. Luna is the silver-haired mystic.

2) Carefully.

3) A lot. (Actually, I think someone did ask this, and I gave the same response. Well at least you got one worthwhile answer.)

Greg responds...

You can't reach your mother who has an apartment in Manhattan. You drive into the city. Traffic is at an absolute standstill. It isn't barely moving -- it's flat-out stopped. You begin to worry about your mom so you abandon your car. You move toward the car in front of you. It's empty, because the person in front of you had the same impulse. But what's really weird is that the car in front of that car has a stone statue sitting behind the wheel. What is this, some kind of gag? You keep going, heading for a subway station. Cars are either empty or filled with statues. For a second, you ask yourself if these could be people turned to stone. But come on, that's just too crazy. There are a few other people running around the streets in a similar state of confusion. Some of them are hysterical. You get more determined to reach your elderly mother.

You head down into the subway station. Loaded with stone statues. No people. No trains. You wait. And wait. But it's damn creepy down here at night with all these statues. You decide to walk. It's twenty-nine blocks, but if that's what it takes....

The further into the city you go, the fewer people you see. The fewer non-statues you see. The conclusion is inescapable. Everyone has been turned to stone. Just then a woman runs up to you. Clearly homeless. You like to think of yourself as open-minded, but you can't help having a visceral reaction to her odor. You're nearly overwhelmed by the unwashed urine-soaked smell. She yells something about "the T.V.'s". And runs off.
She's the only living human in sight, and still you can't help being relieved that she's gone.

Finally, you reach your mother's apartment building. Now, you know. There's Joe the Doorman. You've known Joe for fifteen years. He's a sweet old guy, who never drinks on the job, except a nip now and then when it's really cold. And he's a statue. That face. That twinkle in his eye. It's Joe. And he's stoned -- literally.

Fortunately, Joe's frozen on the job. He's holding the door open for you.
You swallow hard and enter. There's a little girl in the lobby with her parents and a poodle. They're all stone statues. You press the elevator button. The doors open immediately. There are five statues facing you calmly. One of them is Mrs. Vasquez, you're mother's neighbor. Suddenly, you realize that you are more pissed off than frightened. With a new determination you get on the elevator and press the button for the eighth floor.

The doors close. You've had to squeeze in, because the five statues aren't exactly making room for you. You turn to Mrs. Vasquez. "Nice weather we're having," you say grimly. Finally, the elevator opens. You squeeze out, struggling for your key ring.

Your hands are sweating. You have trouble getting your mom's key into the lock. Then it slides in. You mentally prepare yourself. The odds are good that Mom is a statue. You turn the key. Enter the apartment. The television is on. You move into the living room. There are tears in your eyes, even before you see mom, sitting with a bemused expression on her face in front of the t.v. She's frozen in stone on the chair, which seems to be buckling under the weight. You suddenly panic that the chair will break, that your mother will fall to the floor and... and... what? Break?
Shatter? You can't take the chance. You dry your palms on your shirt and then ease her frozen body out of the chair. She seems to weigh a ton, but YOU WILL NOT DROP HER. Slowly, you lower her to the ground, on her side, still frozen in the sitting position.

It's only then that you focus on the sound coming from the t.v. Gibberish?
You turn to look. There's some kind of... creature, speaking, what? Latin, maybe? You move closer to the t.v. Suddenly, the video skips and the image repeats from the beginning. And that's the last thing you remember.

In the morning, you help your mother up off of the floor. She's extremely confused. Did she pass out? Have a heart attack? How'd she get on the floor? When did you get here? You don't want to worry or panic her and even as you start to form the words, it all seems too crazy to say out loud.

The television is still on. Travis Marshall is on, reporting on how everyone in Manhattan seems to have experienced blackouts last night. Your mother mumbles something about pollution in the water. A woman is interviewed. She says that everyone in Manhattan was turned to stone. You can hear your mother snort, but you don't dare look at her now. The reporter looks at the woman. And you know what that look means. He asks her dubiously why she wasn't effected. She responds by saying that she never watches television. Marshall, nods. A nod that clearly means that he thinks she's nuts.

Interviews follow with government officials, psychiatrists, hypnotists, etc.
Every theory in the world is offered up. But no one else says anything about stone statues.

So what kind of person are you? Do you make it your life's work to make sure everyone knows the truth? Do you try to convince yourself it was all a hallucination? Do you just shut your mouth and keep it shut? You're mother offers to cook you breakfast. She'll cut the french toast into a little house with a chimney, windows and a door. Just like she did when you were young. "Yeah, Mom," you say, "That would be nice." While she's cooking, you go into the bathroom and throw up.

As to why Xanatos and Demona didn't cast their spell over the whole world, the answer is simple: They couldn't.

Greg responds...

New.

Greg responds...

Right.

Greg responds...

1) Exactly.

2) To some extent. Puck was on trial as well, and he knew it.

3) N.A.

4) At the time of the choice, Xanatos knew. Although by then he had known Owen for some period of time.

5) Why would he?

6) Not unaided. Maybe not at all. I'm sure Sevarius might like to "help".
Prospero too.

7) N.A. (What are you trying to do, trip me up? :))

By the way gang, Gore has informed me that we've had to kick a number of good questions because they were posted with questions that contained the kind of ideas that I warned I couldn't look at in Guideline #2. If you want your questions answered, please be more careful.

Greg responds...

If your talking biological relationships, no.