South London - 3 am - Lancaster’s Estate

“Oi Dawn - made it awight,” Jamie Lancaster says, he’s dripping wet from being in the pool earlier, swim trunks soaked, blonde hair swept back. Slow music is playing from his large estate, tucked away in a pocket of land near Shadelin Forest.

“Course mate,” Dawn says, though his wrist is killing him. His eyes quickly flash to the weird corpse lady who broke his wrist earlier. She shambles out the old hag that is. Jamie raises his brow.

“You in to cougars now?” Jamie ask.

“You know it,” Dawn replies with a nervous smile.

Seymora pays them no mind. She can feel herself being drawn to the female energy around here. She can sense them, a palpable scent. Powerfully alluring. Seymora rubs her body sensually in anticipation. Whether it’s the eighth of vodka Jamie had or to simply watch an old hag rub herself sensually, he bends over and spills his guts. Dawn has the same urge, but it’s repressed by his fear of dying.

Seymora slowly slips off as the men meat tend to each other’s needs. She is lured to a young female, with radiating skin. She’s young, her body is all on display for Seymora. How many years had it been that a female is dripping wet, hair in a tangled mess, her breast covered barely by a piece of cloth and her lower regions.



“Who invited their grandmum?” she ask, she looks disgusted with her, “Could you like fuck off. Cause you ruining my eyesight, ya.”

Seymora looks at the girl.

“If you knew who I was, you wouldn’t speak to me like that insolent girl,” Seymora says extending out her hand.

“Ewww I think I am gonna upchuck, really,” the girl replies.

She moves quicker than the girl can flinch, using her grip to squeeze the girls throat. Her vocal chords break before she can finish choking the life out of her. She will not tolerate being spoken to in such a manner or tone. Ripping the girls vocal chords out, blood began to splatter all over her skin and tattered robes.

“Hahahahahaa, girls who talk back should be silent and not heard,” Seymora tells the young girl, feeling her youth slowly returning to her.

Seymora slinks off blood beginning to create a trail, as another young female is wearing a dramatically revealing outfit in the back. Though the front is fully covered. What is the purpose of an outfit so ridiculous? She’s leaning of some counter, holding a blue drink in her hand.

“Shite!” the man meat behind the counter yells out, a man meat with dark skin and frizzy hair. Seymora pays him no attention.
She turns around, wet hair whips around.

“Haha, this is rich, Jamie who’s grandma is this?” she ask and looks at her too in revulsion. Why cannot the woman of this era see her beauty? How is she not winning them over with her presence?

“Your friends vocal chords were very fragile, are yours as well?” she ask extending out her hand to present the vocal chords to the young girl.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she yells.

“CALL THE POLICE!” the man meat behind the counter starts shouting.

The young female tries to run off, she grabs her arm quickly. Her skin wet, and nearly slips Seymora’s grip. The man meat runs off though, she doesn’t necessarily care as she drags in the girl. Wrapping her other arm around her neck to hold it still, it takes merely one of her arms to snap it, when her head goes limp, she throws the body onto its knees and rips her head off with both hands. Girls in this era were so careless with their words. Then it seemed they needed an education in etiquette.

West London - 8 am - Shepherd’s Fire Station

Dear SYNBAD,

You have been humbly invited to the New Breed Pride parade being held here in Northern London on the day of your anniversary arrival, March 9th, 2017. All active current SYNBAD members are welcomed. And we would be humbly honored if your leader would say a few words before the floats. You have provided London a great service, allow us to show our thanks.

Yours Truly,

Prime Minister Shirley Lancaster
A note had been hung up about a week ago by no other than Laura. Many were uncertain if it were a suggestion or if it were a request. Knowing Laura it most likely was them being told what to do. So many of them tiredly got out of bed with the expectation of going to the celebration today. Held a little closer to 11. Apparently there were would floats built in their honor, and Viorel was suppose to say a few words. Something like that, though no one was really certain if everyone at the parade was going to be a friendly ally.

These things to invite all kinds of character, but there would be plenty of food, other sorts of vendors, and T-Shirts. A very fetching one in one of the catalogues read: I <3 SYNBAD.

Viorel had a particular time with that, the conversation around the shirt is, “Why do they heart SYNBAD? Is this some kind of message?”

Which Angelica replied, “They aren’t going cut out hearts if that’s what you think.”









Important things aside he put down his cellphone. To be truthful he felt anxious about the parade day. Parades meant a lot of people and a lot of people meant a lot of stares. He did invite them over didn’t he, he runs his finger through his hair. Is he hungry or too nervous and he’s going to puke? He cannot really tell.

Room is tight, but you get use to it. It has enough space for him to place Nagini on a dresser, it’s longwise, with six drawers. There’s a small closet tucked next to his twin size bed, only reason he can sleep on a twin size is because he’s small enough. There’s a door entrance, with cabinet space for anything else you might need to store, honestly it remind him of those small attic bedrooms in old houses. Enough room to stretch, somewhat, but still narrow compared to an ordinary bedroom.

Getting up and simply throwing the sheets onto the bed, looks done enough he walks to the closet, sliding the door open. Passing an arrangement of clothes, a kilt with too many chains, a couple pants with different types of belts on them he’ll call them belts cause calling them bondage pants makes him feel dirty, a pair of red cheetah prints pants though that might make him stand out, ah yeah these jeans will do. He’s tucked a shoe rack in the closet and took out a pair of boots he thinks might match, they have flames on them so that’s cool. And a black button up shirt.

What’s the term business casual, he guessed. Cause they had to look presentable according to Laura. Hopefully this is presentable enough. Ducking out quickly of his room, perhaps he could take a shower before anyone gets up. He checks in the bathrooms, score, no one is in the showers. Honestly it reminded him of his school locker rooms, except without the lockers. A couple showers, at least they had kind of privacy with walls that separated each shower, each toilet stall had a door. Issue was anyone walking out the stall could see you butt naked.

Angelica ignored his complaint about it, “Boo fuckin hoo. You take pictures of yourself all day. Get over it just cause someone seen your toosh.”

She could be a git sometimes. He huffs. Hanging his clothes over the towel rack. They had one cabinet with folded laundry. They were always clean. It had to be Gemina or Jensen. One day he watched the both of them try to tear a towel out of each other’s hands. He feared there was going to be blood. Luckily it turned out awight. Setting some tunes on his phone then getting the shower nice and hot before stepping in. Hopefully no one came in when he was flaking scales. Yeah he didn’t have dandruff. He had tiny tiny teeny tiny scales. God he felt like not going.



Wonder what excuse he could make to get out of it. Probably non.

He hears someone’s door open. Shite. Rushing to get soap all over his body and drying himself off quickly. He rushed getting his flame skull boxers on, then his jeans, hastily buttoning down his shirt, buttons are all shite right now. Fuck he forgot his hair dryer. At least he was dressed rushing out the bathroom he saw Nilin leaving her room. Mother fucking shitebags. That’s who it was. Probably going to get herself food before Gemina begins to force feed people.

He lazily raises a hand, “Hey.” he says as he runs to his room to get his hair dryer, his socks and shoes.



Gemina opens the white lacy curtains, sunlight beams through the window and then she frowns staring out the window. She wanted to see birds, she wanted to the forest outside her window, like the fantastic movies. Instead she was staring at a street, with tarmac, a row of trees acting like a median and several apartment flats. In the years of their existence time had really changed. She watched Viorel as he began to put the final touches on the hem of her dress. He hadn’t gotten dressed himself yet, just his undershirt and his pants. He looked handsome busy and working. She in just a chemise slip currently, watching his serious expression. Though he seemed to be enjoying himself, she could tell that much. Her dress is beautiful, she couldn’t help, but feel loved by this man staring at the white silk dress, adorned with embroidery at the end of the skirt with sequins. Shoulders with the same silvery design. His hands had the experience and knowledge, they were her favorite part, but she knew they had the softest touch. Not much about Viorel is soft, his hands always soft.

“This is like a date,” she presses the man.

Viorel smiles, well she can see his smiles, others cannot.

“I suppose that is true,” he tells her.

She happily wanders over to him.

“My dress is beautiful,” she tells him.

“I hoped you’d like it,” he responds, again she can tell the warm tones in his voice that others cannot pick up. Only she could. Could she touch him she wondered? How would he react? She places a hand tenderly on his shoulders. He pauses sewing to turn around to look at her. Something inside of her is racing.

“Viorel,” she says nervously.

“I have something else for you as well,” he tells her standing up, her hand slips down his back. He’s strong and warm. She feels pull towards him every time they have these moments. She wishes for a kiss, or for him to throw her onto the bed. She wishes for something reckless at these times. Something that would have made her mother shocked, when she were alive. He grabs her hands that have slid down his shoulder, he kisses her fingers tenderly.

“Despite the poor view outside, this day makes me happy,” she announces to him.

“I am glad,” he tells her, as he let’s go of her hands, and walks behind the mannequin bust that is exactly her size. He begins to undo the strings in the back, “Would you try this on for me?”

“I’d be honored,” Gemina finds herself giggling.

She always liked this part. Getting dressed in the clothes he makes for her. It made her feel beautiful in this world. He gently lays the dress down on the bed and smiles at her. As she grabs the dress maybe a bit too eagerly. He watches as she does so. She gets the first of the skirt on herself, he quickly helps her get her arms into the sleeves, and helps fix her slip so nothing is bunched up. She doesn’t mind when he touches her in places they should otherwise be ashamed of touching each other. He slowly begins to thread the strings in the back of her dress. She waits till he is finished threading her in. She turns around to look at him.

“Not too tight,” he ask her brush past her black hair.

“No,” she tells him, what she wanted to tell him is that he already stole her breath away.

“Ask one of the girls to do your hair,” Viorel tells her, “However, I have something more for you.” He says.

She waits. Viorel turns around to the white antique dresser they had for a while, the chipped white paint is beginning to break apart again. One of the corners is missing do to Blinky’s meddling, he opens the drawer now that can’t quite come open any more, it gets jammed, but with enough wiggling he manages to open it taking out a large velvet box.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

She does. She’s excited. She feels cold metal to her neck. What could it be? She’s scared, but his touch is tender and somehow that eases her.

“You may open them,” Viorel tells her.

She opens her eyes. This necklace. A silver embroidered necklace, with two dark sapphires. Where did he get it?

“I remember this necklace, we lost it in our house in Germany,” she tells him.

“And I found it,” Viorel replies.

She turns around excitedly and hugs him tightly.

“I love you,” she says happily.

“I as well,” he replies kissing her cheek.

“I have to find Nilin, she’ll be thrilled. Gemina says, she finds herself flying out of the bedroom too excited to bother about the cleaning.



Viorel watches her leave. She seems to be in high spirits this morning, that is good. It pleases him when he can actually get her to smile. Her leaving the room brimming, no overflowing with joy made him feel joyful too. Glad in fact that she is still happy with him after all these years. A parade then. He turns to Blinky whom they have had to lock at night in a dog crate. It has all the things Blinky could want and need. He calls it his bedroom, it’s better than nothing. A pink polka dotted throw, warm and fuzzy, some coloring books, Blinky complains about their story all the time, a cookie jar, some crayons scattered across the soft pillow they had given them. Some he had even tried to taste.

“Scary Face gavies away me precious shiny,” Blinky remarks.
“Viorel,” he corrects, “To be fair it was our before it ever belonged to you. Would you like to go to the parade or not?”

“Ooo Blinky luvs festivies,” Blinky replies, looking eager to get out of the crate.

Viorel let’s him out, Blinky stretches.

“Remember the rules,” Viorel tells Blinky.

“No manure, no pranksy, no bad bad,” Blinky replies.

“That’ll about do it, and if you follow all the rules,” Viorel says going back to the drawer, fiddling with it before taking out a pocket watch he found at a thrift store.

“I get new shiny,” Blinky looks at it, a bit of drool begins to form at his mouth.

He still wonders how he’s managed to survive this creatures habits. Most would have given up on him, though he didn’t have the heart to do something so cruel. After all these were all base instincts a Goblin had, he isn’t so sure it would be kind behavior to reprimand him for something Blinky couldn’t truly control. Viorel tried his best to keep his temper with Blinky.

“Wakey the Baby?” Blinky ask.

Why does he keep calling Jensen that? Viorel sighs.

“Jensen,” Viorel corrects, “Go on.”

Blinky scurries off to go wake Jensen, leaving Viorel to the room. Honestly he had no feeling towards or against the parade. He wished others would stop seeing him as the only voice of the New Breeds. Many of those in SYNBAD had done just as much even more. He wished to see Jensen on the stage to speak about his relations with spirits. He wished to see Nilin stand on the stage to stand before the others to show that not all New Breeds were out there eccentrics, they could be a warm bowl of comfort as well. Or Myles in order to get some confidence in the boy. Maybe Jack to crack open that shell he otherwise had. Or perhaps Giovani could speak of his experiences and entertain the crowd with a joke. Foster he’d prefer speaking another face to show the generosity of New Breeds, to put it bluntly he’d worry about Harper on stage.

He is not the source of all there is to wisdom. Wisdom came in spades. It comes from different experiences. It comes from different minds. One mind thinking for so many others is not ideal. It means putting his own thoughts in their mind. It means putting his own words for them. He didn’t like the prospect. All of God's children all had something heavenly to share.



North London - Melody Garden Flats

This didn’t feel right. Not one bit right at all.

Harper: Ay-up. Mornin’ sunshine.

Foster groans as Harper is clapping loudly in their head. Slowly comin’ ‘round it is becoming quite clear what is wrong. Foster’s staring at stunningly fit woman lying next to him, naked, messy black hair.

“Would you like to explain?” Foster mumbles tiredly.

Harper: Aye. If I ‘ave too. You see mes and her went out last night. We got home. I begin to slowly rub her shoulders….

“...I have had enough of that,” Foster replies sharply before he really goes on explaining the whole thing to ‘im.

Harper laughs.

“Fix it,” Foster demands tiredly.

Harper: Ah nah. I like to watch the struggle brotha.

Foster grumbled. Slowly as he’s beginning to come ‘round he’s slowly beginning to feel the pressure in his head. Really, why leave him with the hangover? Slowly he places his hand on the woman’s bare arm. This feels wrong in so many ways. He slowly shakes her.

“Xcuse me miss,” Foster says softly.

Harper stays quiet. The more awake he’s becoming the more sick he’s feeling. He softly shakes her again in hopes to wake her.

“‘Xcuse me miss,” Foster says louder, but still soft.

She finally opens her eyes, they are brown, and they stare at him. She smiles stroking his cheek.

“Hey you were great last night,” she says tiredly, as if she’s still asleep.

Oh this is always awkward.

“I’m not who you think I am,” Foster says, “Harper my twin. You need to leave. And I have to get ready for a parade. Right after I puke in the toilet.”

He hates waking up and feeling nauseous. Sickness when you’re waking up is one of those all or nothing things. Where one minute you feel nothing and then all the sudden you feel everything at once. First it’s the head pressure. Then it’s the spinning room. Then it’s the loopy feeling in your stomach. He doesn’t particular care that he clipped a toe on the doorway as he bends over to dry heave into the toilet.

“Why would you,” he takes a moment, “do this.”

Harper laughs: Because the hangover is the worse part.

“I know,” he says trying to recover, “I’m the one talking to nobody through a toilet bowl.”

Harper makes a sound: Ouch. I am nobody, huh.

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Foster replies.

Harper: Ye. She must think you insane by now.

Standing up, there were times he wish Harper were in the present. So he could slug his shoulder. Cause he does things like this. Staring at their bathroom counter is like staring at a shared space with one individual present at times in the physical. Harper’s side is always messy, he could learn to clean up, his space always encroaches on his own space, then he has nowhere to place his things. Why does he bother with these things? Men’s cologne with names like; Ocean Breeze, Mountain Fresh. Neither of which smell at all what they say they smell like. Hair styling products, Harper’s comb is in the sink basin again.

“Mountain Fresh, wots’ tat like then?” Foster ask.

Harper: You wuldnnit like it. Talkin’ ‘bout not liking tings. Let’s talk ‘bout your hand soap. Cherry Blossom extract natural soups. You gottah be kidding me.

“It has a short ingredient list, and isn’t animal tested,” Foster replies, “I know what you’re going to say about it. I am already pissed I have to deal with the hangover.”

Harper: Dats is girly. Smells flowery. But it was nice. I stole a drop last night. Woman love it.

Foster shakes their head, opening the medicine cabinet their things are scattered all over the place. Why Harper insisted on having a dinosaur toothbrush was beyond him even then, taking out his toothbrush he began to go through the routine. Brushing, then flossing, mouthwash.

“What did you do use vodka as a mouthwash?” Foster asked making sure the shower temperature hit a balanced medium.

Harper laughs: Don’t be crass. I used rum.

Heading into the shower, it became painfully aware the little things they did share. His brother choosing shampoos with black bottles, which looked lethal to him, they had names like Fresh Apple, Winter Chill. While he had chosen natural shampoos, mint extract in a recycled plastic bottles. Sometimes he wondered if this difference was their divide or if it were merely a joke to Harper.

Harper: Something the matter.

“Do you think we’re too different?” Foster asked.

Harper: Not at all. Imagine if we were exactly the same. Whoddah you look up to wake you up with a hangover then? Huh.

Harper laughs, which gets Foster to smile.
“Should I go for something else?” Foster ask Harper.

Harper: Nah. Go for the mint one. Like the way it smells.

“Then why do you go for the horrible ones?” Foster ask.

Harper: Cause it gets me laid.

He’s just jerking your chain around Foster. I know, but it works.

When that was all said and done he walked into their closet. Harper’s and his taste were abundantly clear to him. Why is it bothering him so much today? Perhaps because he was bothered by the fact his head feels like it’s being put through a juicer.

“Suggestions?” Foster ask looking through his wardrobe, that seems of muted colors. While behind him were Harper’s clothes, not only obtuse, some were overzealous as well in design.

Harper: Just one.

“Lemme guess, don’t dress like a twat,” Foster mumbles.

Harper: Atta boy.

Harper says nothing else as Foster is going through his things. Cardigans and button up shirts. White, beige, blacks, navies.

Harper sighs: Go for the gray one with the nice textured pattern.

Foster puts a hand on the casual cardigan he’s talking about, it’s a bit thinner for March weather, but he takes it off its hangar.

“This one?” Foster ask.

Harper: Yes. Now go for one of the sky blue shirts or the gray one.

Foster follows his instructions, “This one then?”

Harper: Yep. Grab some jeans. And there ya go.

“Thank you,” Foster mumbles.

Harper: Uh huh. Gotta a hat to go with that.

“This” Foster picks up one of his only owned slouchy knits. When he was trying to be brave. And out there. This didn’t really scream brave and out there, did it?

Harper: Works.

“Okay,” Foster mumbles as he starts to prepare getting dressed.

Harper: Take a pair of my sunglasses too. God your goin’ need it.

“Who’s fault is that?” Foster asked.

Harper: Dunno. A poltergeist did it.

Once everything seemed in order and the stranger had vanished as he reentered their living bedroom. Moving through the open floor planned studio, he stared at a shiny waxed red box in it. Beside the hangover he was worried she might not like it.

“You think this is a horrible idea?” Foster asked.

Harper: If I was being an ass, I’d say yes. But it ain’t ‘orrible unless you think it’s ‘orrible.

“Okay,” Foster replies.

Off to SYNBAD HQ. Why was he going to this parade again? He felt like he barely made a contribution to the group usually.

Jensen hadn't been too terribly excied for the parade. When he saw the note on the board talking about it, he knew that he'd have to get dressed in something that was far more fancier and more presentable than his usual clothing. All of which he currently did not have. Unfortunate, really. So, he stayed out late last night with Faye to try and find an outfit that didn't look too formal, but looked better than some casual clothing he had lying around.

Having a model who also had no care in the world for fashion accompanying you in this was not the best idea he's ever had. Faye just led him to store after store until it eventually just felt like a date to the mall. To be honest, though, Jensen did enjoy his time yesterday. At least he managed to get out a white collared button up and some black slacks. Faye even gifted his a black bowtie to go with it. He wasn't really sure if this would be enough, especially with what he saw Viorel and Gemina are going to wear.

The morning had come up and supposedly, he was going to wake up to his alarm. He was not expecting a goblin jumping on top of him and yelling at the top of his lungs - "Wakey wakey baby!"

"Fucking hell Blinky!" Jensen exclaimed, letting the cuss word out accidentally. He then rolled off, letting the goblin fall down to the side of the bed but he saw Blinky recover. Jensen rubbed the back of his head as he sat up, looking at Blinky. "And my name's Jensen."

"Baby is baby!" Blinky exclaimed.

He sighed and shook his head. He then reached over to his drawer and then grabbed this chocolate coin in a golden wrapper. He then handed it to Blinky whose eyes glinted.

"Shiny!" Blinky said with a grin. "Scary Face told Blinky to wakey baby."

"See 'ya later Blinky."

The goblin left soon after and Jensen looked over to the clock. Great, it was only a few more minutes before the alarm was set to go. Jensen just turned it off. His outfit was already prepared so he wasn't worried about that. Clearly, Viorel and Gemina were out of their beds. Damn it, Jensen usually woke up earlier than this but thanks to his late night rendezvous with Faye and shopping.

Once he was out of his own bedroom, he knocked on Viorel's door and opened it. "G'mornin' Viorel." He greeted before yawning. He looked around, looking for another face. Gemina wasn't there. Was she already prepping breakfast? Please no. He had some awesome plans for his own breakfast right now. "That's fancy by the way." He then let out a chuckle before leaving.

He headed over to the shower room and took his own shower. He wasn't hearing anybody inside, or anybody gettin in. Honestly, he was used to shower rooms. After all, he used to be in a soccer club when he was young, and then a basketball club, and then a baseball club. You start to get used to showering with other people inside. He was fast in taking his bath - completing it in little over seven minutes before he hopped out of it, feeling more refreshed than ever.

Jensen headed back to his room to properly get dressed. He grabbed his mask and then clipped it onto the side of his slacks. Ever since he started using it when he was a kid, he never really felt it was right to just discard it even if people started to piece together who he was lately. This mask was a part of his persona now, and he never wanted to let it go.

Once he was done musing, he slung over his towel around his shoulders and headed out the door. He wondered how many people were up by now. He wondered how many people were already here and prepped to go to the parade. He didn't find Gemina though so he wasn't sure if she was already at the kitchen. As he was walking down towards the cooking area, he pressed a circular tattoo and muttered, "Alyssa, come out my friend."

The fairy came out and then sat down on his shoulder. "Pancakes?" She tilted her head to the side. "May I eat some as well?"

Jensen grinned. "Of course!"

He continued heading down the stairs until he reached the kitchen. Seeing as Gemina was not there, he rejoiced internally. He grabbed the pancake batter, got a pan and then started cooking - Alyssa now sitting down to the side, dangling her legs and singing a sweet but eerie lullaby.

Jensen never really knew the lyrics nor the actual meaning behind it, but he always enjoyed listening to it, especially when Alyssa is singing it. Somewhere inside, he seemed to understand it. And he loved it.

Jack awoke relatively early, or at least what felt early, stretching himself out before getting out of bed and gathering up a clean white towel, along with a set of clothes for the day to replace the pajamas he'd slept in last night. He always reckoned that sleeping in never did a body good - once you were up, you were up. Then again, he'd never really woken up before six in the morning, so he imagined he'd need to figure that one out when the situation arose.

And now that he was up, he needed to make sure his roommates were, too. Well, they shared a section of the second floor, really, but that included at least one room separate from everyone else, so roommates they were. Before exiting into the main floor area, he knocked rapidly on both of their doors, calling 'Luka, Gio! Time to get up, chaps! Today's an important day, we need to be up early!' With that achieved, he stepped out of their "apartment" and walked to the boy's bathroom. He always wondered why there was so much empty space upstairs between the bedrooms and the bathrooms, but he imagined that between Viorel, Gemina, Angelica and Laura, there was probably more building design experience in play than he had. Plus, it was nice and airy, something that wouldn't happen with a simple corridor.

Jack wondered about bathrooms, sometimes. He knew the term was used for toilets and bathrooms alike in the US, but even if they didn't have a bath, the presence of some form of cleaning appliance apparently qualified them to be bathrooms rather than toilets - like showers, for instance, which despite using water to clean one's body with, definitely didn't qualify as baths in their own right. Then again, baths in the past were basically large rooms containing shallow swimming pools, so what did he know? The point was, he considered as he placed his day clothes neatly on one side of a free stall and took a couple of seconds to leave his night clothes in a pile on the other side, humans had weird definitions for things.

A few minutes of showering later, Jack exited the stall and redressed, now in his outfit for the day. Nothing fancy, he reckoned. He didn't need to be fancy for this, really. With that said and done, time for breakfast, he felt. Or rather, time for Blinky to come running down toward the bathroom just as Jack stepped out. He smelled oddly nice today, didn't he? Maybe Gemina had gotten her hands on him properly today after all.

'Morning, Blinky,' Jack greeted the goblin, in turn being greeted with 'Shiny Man, Shiny Man! Wakesy, is time for shinys!' Ah, of course, the semi-daily ritual.

'Sure thing, Blinky. I might just have one shiny left in my back pocket...' he teased, reaching behind himself as the goblin bounced around with self-absorbed excitement. What Blinky didn't know was that the "shinys" Jack gave him were basically scrunched-up arm blades - more accurately, foil blades excreted from one arm, torn off with the other, then crumpled up noisily behind his back before being presented. This time, he produced some aluminium foil to crush into a ball; other times, the metal ranged from iron, to copper, and at one point what was basically gold leaf, just to see if he could. Jack always found it curious how he could just freely generate almost any substance he wanted, so long as it could cut something. Yet he'd never needed to experiment too much, since if he needed something specific, he reckoned he'd be able to create it regardless.

'Aaaand you ready, Blinky?' he asked, presenting the foil ball in front of him. Blinky wound up stepping from one foot to the other with excitement and preparation, just long enough for Jack to toss the ball back to the opposite corner of the area, calling out 'Go get it!' in the process, then leaving Blinky to be enamoured by his new shiny in the opposite corner as he made his way downstairs.

It didn't take long for Jack to make his way to the basement. He'd intended to cook breakfast, for himself and whoever else was downstairs at the time, but it transpired that Jensen had beaten him to the punch, complete with a tune being sung for him in an odd, presumably fae language by Alyssa. He greeted Jensen with a 'Morning' too, in his case following up with 'You mind if I help out here? I never get to make pancakes very often, but they're always really nice.'

@BCTheEntity@Polaris North



His hair was kind of dry at least the ends weren’t dripping onto his clothes. He looked at himself in the mirror for a long time, the bruising around his eyes were the usual, he didn’t know why he was then lathering on some black shadow an eyeliner, but he thought it gave a more dramatic appeal. On those makeup shows they’d say things like making your eyes pop, well they certainly did so. His phone vibrated.

Natalie: Looking cute. What’s with the towel?

Me: I didn’t have a good prop. Half asleep.

Natalie: I’ll meet you at the parade. XoXo

Me: Course. Meeting some others too.

She doesn’t reply, he doesn’t really know why she continues to text him. Sort of hurts that they are this distant these days. It’s not cause he tried to chew her finger off during intercourse where finger sucking might have been a thing, but other reasons. Myles sighed whatever, running a finger along the slit of his mouth. Could he just not go today? He’s feeling all sorts of moody. He wonders if some people knew about the finger thing or the ear thing if he craved human flesh. It wasn’t that. He got excited and things just go blank from there.

It’s all arousal, your house cat nips when they love being pet. Same concept. Just he could have his partners lose a finger or two. He groans. Getting up, should get to the kitchen, find something to eat. Or was he too nervous to eat? Guess he’d find out. Rushing out of his bedroom, Gemina runs past him in a fancy dress.

They were so out of touch with time Viorel and Gemina, weren’t they? Didn’t matter it was cool. He wished he could be as confident as Viorel. He strides out onto the hallway. Viorel always walks with this fashionable swagger, using the hallway, he tries to walk as stiffly as Viorel down the hallway.

“Yes, let me explain the intricate details of the historical world to you ad nauseam,” Myles says having his hand extended out like he were an elegant king.

Continuous to pace down the hallway, he didn’t care if Laura is in the call center. Maybe Viorel isn’t going to work out for him because he just doesn’t have the royal stare of doom. Jack’s all right too, like an older brother, but the only thing he could think of is walking a little straighter and trying to look casually handsome.

“Problem what problem,” Myles says with a shrug, “I see no problems as I am walking close to a mangled corpse. It’s an ordinary day, always dark stormy sun shining through gray clouds day at SYNBAD. Boredom laughter cue; hahah.”

Myles sighs none of this is working to bolster his own confidence. What would Jensen do?

“Oh it ain’t all bad,” Myles tries to imitate the casual laid back attitude of Jensen, even pretending to ruffle his sandy brown hair, “You just have to see the world for what it is.”

Laura pokes her head out the door in the call center, “Stop talking to yourself. We don’t need more problems from you.”

Myles looks at the brunette. He decides not to engage. She’s always been a little scary to him. Heading down to the little cubby that had two sets of steps, a metal rail leading up towards the 2nd floor and some cement steps leading down towards the lounge, he began to take the steps down. He wondered who could be up at this time because he could smell cooking.

A passing thought of Myles was to one day dress like that creepy dog meme and crawl up these stairs in the dark during Halloween. He’d never do such a thing though cause he didn’t want to earn any more points of being weird.

Entering the lounge his felt a pit grow in his stomach. A handsome, fair sandy brown, Jensen is moving around in the kitchen prepping pancakes. He’s so smooth skin, boyish in his charm, yet remains masculine. Then there’s Jack, he just looks like catalogue jean model looking hot even when bored and that’s what girls like for him.

“Morning,” Myles mumbles, hoping they never find out he tried to imitate them just a minute ago.

"Wake up." A deep, gruff, and masculine voice commanded. Chloe was sleeping on her side, facing the wall away from where the voice was coming from. Her blue eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on the wall.

"Wake up wake up wake up, wake up, time to wake up," Another voice said, this one annoyingly smooth and monotone.

"I'm getting up, Arnold," Chloe managed to say through a yawn. In the small, one bedroom dormitory inside the first floor of the Sheperd Firestation, there was one person- Chloe. Currently upright in her bed, wearing white under garments, her blonde hair frazzled and sticking up this way and that, to outsiders it was like she stared at nothing. But to her, Chloe saw five people.

The man who had first told her to wake up was not dressed in normal clothes. Instead, in full plate mail armor, Reginald the Mighty stood, his arms crossed, face obscured by the helm cover. "It is time to wake up, young Caldwin; for today you show the world your pride to be a New Breed!" He uncrossed his arms and raised them into the air, clenching his gauntleted fists in victory.

"Yeah, New Breed pride." The second man said. Arnold, a slightly overweight white American sitting in his green t-shirt and khaki shorts, wearing socks with sandals just to annoy her. He was leaned back in the only chair in the room, rotating his finger in lazy, mocking celebration. "Woooooh." He said in mock celebration.

"Well, I am proud to be a New Breed, Arnold, you know? I've got you guys, and most everyone else 'as got no one. That's more than enough reason to be proud." Chloe said indignantly standing and stretching.

"You'll need to put on something nice," A woman said. Joanna, a stunningly beautiful asian woman, dressed in high quality casual clothing. She radiated beauty, and made Chloe feel less pretty by comparison.

"Nothing too flashy," Joanna continued, sizing up Chloe with a sharp glance. "Maybe that red dress that's tied around the waste you always wear to these kinds of things?"

Chloe made a disapproving noise with her teeth and tongue. "It's just a parade, innit? I should wear street clothes, right? It's a pride parade. I'm being prideful."

In the end, the young woman decided upon a simple white button-up blouse, tucked into a formal knee-length skirt and her best pair of wooden, open toed sandals. Joanna tried to convince her to polish her nails but Chloe decided against it. Chloe showered in the stalls, and with a towel wrapped around her chest briefly passed through the hallway back into her room. Modesty is not really an issue for Chloe- with five people almost always following her around, she's basically used to them just casually walking in on her while she showers to talk about something. Most people, prefer their privacy, but it's almost a foreign concept to Chloe. So when Joanna casually talked to her as she washed herself in the morning, asking if she was nervous for the big parade and even mentioning that Chloe 'missed a spot' it wasn't really an issue at all.

So, with that all settled, Chloe began to make her way downstairs for breakfast. Arnold and Reginald stayed upstairs to argue about something Chloe didn't care about. There was a woman waiting outside her room when Chloe was dressed, tied her hair into a bun and had done her makeup. It was Clarissa- the fourth person only Chloe could see, feel, or hear.

"Good morning Clarissa," Chloe said as she walked past. "Have you seen Sarah today?"

"No. She's probably off criticizing the cooking of whoever is downstairs." Clarissa was perpetually dressed business casual. Chloe nodded and began to walk by, but Clarissa lightly grabbed her shoulder. It was a strange experience, being touched by these people. It felt like trying to touch two North ends of a magnet together. An invisible pressure that prevented it unless one used brute force. Chloe looked in surprise at Clarissa, who in turn raised an eyebrow.

"You've forgotten your glasses, sweetheart," She reminder Chloe dryly. Chloe put a hand up to her nose. So she was. Chloe gave an embarrassed half-laugh and went back into her room, fitting the thin-framed square glasses onto her face. Clarissa gave a wry smile as Chloe walked past and made her way to the lounge. She caught a glance of Myles as he made his way downstairs. Making sure her hair was straight, Chloe walked downstairs. As she made her way down, she saw the posh noblewoman that was Sarah, the fifth and final major person that only Chloe could see, hear, or feel, was looking over Jensen's shoulder as he made pancakes.

Sarah was as out of place as Reginald was- dressed like an 18th century noblewoman. Though she had toned down the now considered garish garb of traditional England, it was still obvious what era Madame Sarah claimed to be from. The Madame clucked her tongue as the young man prepared his pancakes. "I simply cannot believe that anyone would eat this inferor version of cake. Where's the floof? The icing? It's hardly even moist."

Chloe decided to stand up for pancakes and Jensen, even though no one could hear Sarah. "The pancakes smell good, Jensen," She called out to him as she walked down the stairs, her wooden sandals making satisfying clacking noises on the stairs. There was Alyssa, one of Jensen's friends that everyone could see. There was Jack, who seemed to want to help out, looking handsome as ever. And the previously mentioned Myles, who was just settling in.

"Good mornin' everyone. Ready for the parade?" She smiled as she walked past the group and fetched herself a cup of orange juice and a ham and cheese sandwich she 'made' last night.

---

When he was woken up by Jack knocking, Luka’s thought process went something like this:

“What… Important day…? Wait, what was today…? ...OH.”

He then immediately leapt out of bed, angry meowing reminding him that he’d had a cat sleeping on top of his legs whom he’d accidentally catapulted into the waking world. Almost immediately, he heard Killer Queen’s voice in his head.

“Luka. Why.”

“Sorry! Sorry about that! It’s my first pride parade, though! I’m so excited!”

“A whole bunch of humans all packed in the same place being loud and rowdy? Sounds like a great time. Have fun.”

He winked at her, ignoring the sarcasm, “You know I will!”

Killer Queen curled up on Luka’s pillow as he hustled out of the room and into the shower. She had very nearly managed to get back to sleep when he came bursting back into the room. He dried off his hair, brushed it thoroughly, then messed it up again with his hands to get the perfect degree of deliberate chaos. It took roughly twenty minutes for him to pick out the perfect outfit, but he finally decided on a rainbow t-shirt, cut-off shorts, and platform sneakers (which he always wore during public appearances with SYNBAD, because they made him look taller).

He woke up Killer Queen again to take a picture of him to post to Snapgram, but it took a few tries because, well, paws. She eventually figured it out, though, and it was up within the minute. Luka finished off his look with a jacket and sunglasses and finally left his room, feeling awesome.

He strode into the kitchen and greeted everyone who had congregated there, “Hey dudes! How’s everyone’s morning been?”

---

A sharp rapping noise emitted from the other side of the door. One Giovanni De Luca quickly shot straight up out of bed, blurting out a seemingly non-sensical shout.

"I tap five mana for "Lich's Mirror!" Then, he looked around, sitting upright in his small room. He wasn't at a tournament for Sorcerous Assembly? "Huh? Must have been a dream..." It was then that his brain decided to catch up, and Jack's words processed what today was. "Right! Today's the parade, isn't it? Better get ready!" With that, Gio scrambled out of bed, grabbing his toiletries and a towel. Fortunately, Jack had either not showered yet, or had already finished. Gio took a rather quick shower, also taking the time to scrape the stubble off of his face. Beards and Gio did not mix.

After departing the shower, Gio headed back to his room and got dressed for the day. He took "presentable" as a pair of slacks and a nice button-up shirt. No ties or bowties, though. He couldn't tie them to save his life. The last thing he did was secure a belt around his waist.

This belt wasn't any average belt that most people wore. Oh, no, this belt was his prized possession. In fact, it was why he was able to use his abilities. On the right-hand side, the belt had two pouches. One pouch had three slots for Gio's Potions that his powers could generate, though they were all empty since he'd had to use one on his last case. The second pouch was more like a giant square sack. In it was a green ring. This was for Gio's Relics, even though he only owned one right now. On the left hand side was a simple deckbox. The logo etched into the outside was reminiscent of an animal's skull. It had a top that was typically held closed by magic, but could flip open like one of Gio's magnetic deck boxes. Inside, were two sets of slots. One was labelled "Draw", and the other "Discard". In the Draw pile were 12 special cards. Gio's cards, to be exact. The ones that granted him their power.

After making sure his belt was secured, he headed downstairs for some breakfast. Along the way, he ran into the resident... "mascot". Blinky was an odd fellow. To be fair, Gio hadn't met any goblins in his life, so perhaps Blinky was normal for a goblin? Eh, it didn't matter.

"Baddy Hands! Baddy Hands! Give Blinky shiny?" From what Gio could see, Blinky already had been gifted a few trinkets. However, Gio did have one thing.

"I believe I have just the thing, Blinky. Found it yesterday." Gio said, pulling out of his shirt pocket a shiny metal bottle cap. After he'd dulled the pointy parts, he figured he'd give it to Blinky. One of the first thing he'd learned about the goblin was his love for shiny objects, and this one apparently passed Blinky's test, as he took it and sped off, presumably to either try and obtain more treasures, or to put away the ones he had. Chuckling, Gio entered the kitchen and smelled pancakes.

"I've heard of wake up and smell the coffee, but I think I prefer waking up to the smell of pancakes instead. Mind making me a few?" Gio asked, chuckling a bit at his own joke as he fetched some orange juice. After glancing around, there was quite the crowd already gathered.

A delightful jiggle rang out in the cramped single bedroom, causing the twin bed's current occupant to moan in slight protest at being pulled from slumber. She rolled onto her stomach, ebony hair spilling in all directions while hands blindly reached under the pillow as she felt around to find the offending object. She felt her hand brush against a solid smooth object and grasped it, pulling it out from under the pillow and finally cracking her chestnut eyes open to stare at the phone clutch between her fingers. A notice flashed onto the screen that stated 'prepare for parade day' as the alarm still jiggled at her to start the day. Nilin tapped the clock off, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the bed before stretching her arms up to the ceiling and feeling her bones snap. She moved over to the dresser carefully, reaching for her wire-framed glasses and thinking about how today would go as she placed them on. It could just be a wonderful time and seem almost like a festival with food and fun but in a crowd of so many people, it worried her. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of her. It made her think that maybe the best route would be to link with someone before the parade.

Nilin shook her head lightly, pushing those thoughts away and just focusing on getting ready, all the while praising herself for taking a shower the night before. She moved to her closet, taking out the outfit she had planned for the occasion, hoping to get ready a little sooner or at least be prepared should she need the extra time as she wasn’t sure how the morning would end up. Nilin laid a short bright red dress out on the bed, admiring the simple tooling that made it seem light and flows to her and the way the thin belt that was decorated with a gold plate to make the outfit pop a bit. She had wanted to add a little flair of her own and placed a black leather jacket next to the dress which would save her bare arms from the cold as well. A pair of black tights were tossed on the other side of the dress and a pair of black pumps with a thin ankle strap set on the floor just in front of her outfit.

Everything now in place for the afternoon, she decided to head out in the direction of the kitchen, not caring that she was still in her pajamas
while seeing what kind of breakfast Jensen or Gemina was making because she was a little behind in that category. Heck, she was debating skipping breakfast all together but she felt it would be rude if anyone had taken the time to make her a plate since that was usually what Gemina would do, wanting to make sure everyone was cared for. On her way there, Myles popped out of the bathroom looking a little frazzled but clearly dressed for the event to come. He acknowledged her presences with a lazy wave and a quick "Hey" which she started to say 'morning' in reply but was fallen on deaf ears as he ran off to his bedroom or at least she figured that was the case by the direction he was going. Nilin couldn't help but smile at this because for some reason she found it charming. She was just about to continue on her way when Gemina glided around the corner in the most fabulous dress she had ever seen her wear which meant Viorel had put a lot of love into it for his beautiful wife. A sliver necklace laced with two sapphires placed at her neck pulling the outfit together.

"Gemina, you look completely stunning!" Nilin gasped in complete awe as a large smile plastered onto her face.

Today her soul had been touched, not simply her physical being, but her soul. She overflowed with giddiness and excitement as she twirled in it.

“It is the most wonderful gift to be given” she said and touched the necklace, “This necklace we lost in Germany on the night of our anniversary, what I mean is I got the necklace for our anniversary, it was dear and then it disappeared. I am overjoyed to wear it again.”

Gemina was positively glowing with joy, in a way that even Nilin had never seen before. It made her heart warm to see the other woman this way and wished it was something she could see always. She took the other woman’s hands into her own and smiled brightly. “Viorel really has out done himself this time on your dress but I am so glad the necklace was found after so many years so you could wear it once more instead of just cherishing the memory. That can’t be the only reason you are so tickled pink right now, what else happened?”

Gemina smiles, “smiles” isn’t quite the word though her eyes seemed iridescent and her aura danced.

“He called our outing a date, he’s taking me out on a date, he touched me in places,” she blushed and covers her face, “I dare not say. He made me feel a little reckless. I want more. I want him to be reckless more.” She let’s go of Nilin’s hands to slowly and gracefully spin in the tight room. How she manages without clipping herself on any corners is a mystery. As if dancing had come to her so easily and naturally she understood the portions of her own dimensions even in the smallest room. She was told once by someone who had taught her to do so, to learn movement you pretend to be in a small box, “Will he have flowers? Renew our vows? Oh please Nilin. Make my face beautiful like the young girls of today. Make my hair beautiful. Please I beg of you.” she had stopped spinning at this point and had grab Nilin’s hands again tightly squeezing them and looking desperately at Nilin.

“We will make your hair and makeup so beautiful that he will have no other choice but to remember how lucky he is that you are his and have to give you a passionate kiss.” Nilin stated seriously, now making this her complete mission. She lead Gemina to one of the single bedrooms that had yet to be occupied and nodded. Yes, this would be her studio and Gemina would be her greatest project. “Have a seat on the bed, I am going to go grab my makeup bag and we will get to work on your transformation. I have so many ideas, it is going to be perfect.” She stated in complete confidence before rushing back into her room and yanking open one of the dresser doors to grab a black leather bag full of all her makeup supplies.

She walked back in, setting the bag on the dresser that has already been supplied for the room and started to pull out the items she wanted to work with. A lot of soft silvers and white eyeshadows, some black eye liners and the softest pinks of lipsticks she owned that would be the most subtle. Nilin had the vision and she was going to make it a reality. She nodded to herself, turning to Gemina with a smile and one of the silver eyeshadows in her hand. “Close your eyes and I’ll let you know when to open them.” She said gently.

She could barely sit still at this point, as she felt Nilin’s hands on her face. Her fantasies were taking her places, as she felt Nilin brush past her hair. She simply swung her legs excitedly as she felt Nilin’s brush on her eyes. She’d hand out instructions like, “Head up” and she would follow them the prospect of Nilin making her like a living painting enthralled her.

“Say Nilin, let me pick out your dress as a thank you,” Gemina told her as she looked up to a dazzling light as Nilin worked a pen in her waterline, “I know someone who might also enjoy you dressed up.” The idea of sharing love, felt just as important.

“Seeing the joy on your face and Viorel’s reaction will be thank you enough. Funny you should say that though, I actually decided to dress up today since it isn’t my usual style. I’ll have you take a look and see if I should try something else but I don’t know what you mean about someone enjoying it.” She answered with a light blush, denying that she was thinking of a certain red-haired man.

“Older woman like myself can see love in another’s heart whether or not they deny it to themselves,” Gemina teased with a giggle and a smile, “I would be delighted to see your outfit .”

Nilin sighed, giving in as there was no way to fool Gemina. She wasn’t like a mom to this group without reason. “I never know where I stand with those two. Foster and Harper are very different and yet, they aren’t. Foster just makes me smile and Harper challenges me which makes me feel bold but it is hard to tell where I stand. Foster makes it seem like our friendship could possibly grow into something more but Harper doesn’t seem fond with the idea as he tries to push me away or keep things the way they are. It is confusing…”

Gemina just smiles. Should she give the answer or wait for her to understand the answer herself? Gemina gives a slight giggle, “When it comes to matters of the heart, it’s best not to use one's’ head, but better to use one's’ soul. Viorel and I feel connected. I want these things because our souls feel entwined. Maybe I am selfish because he created me, maybe I am not destined to love him because I don’t entirely have a soul. Not one gifted to me by God, but one given to me by him. But my soul yearns and still feels this excited. To feel loved. It’s not confusing if you listen to yourself in earnest.”

Nilin didn’t answer, letting her words sink in and wonder if she felt that sense of connection that Gemina spoke of. What she felt when she saw them was a fluttering in her stomach, a race of her heart, a want to be close and if she was being truthful to herself, they were the two that had brain waves she couldn’t ignore even after all this time. Everyone else would just see one at a time but Nilin saw them and she wished sometimes she could hear what they thought. Was she over thinking things and just not letting things happen or not trying hard enough? “Thank you, Gemina. I will think on what you said and try to take your words to heart. Can I just say, I think Viorel and you were made for each other and no matter the circumstances. You are still you.”

“I’ll give you a small hint, Harper’s never tried to get close to anyone challenging them or not,” Gemina smiles. She sits up, “I’m excited for today. Because it means SYNBAD is finally more.”

“I am nervous about today. I don’t do so well in crowds but I have to say that I am glad that SYNBAD is being recognized by community. This could be a big step for all of us.” Nilin replied, trying to keep a positive. She did her last minute touches on Gemina’s makeup as she grinned before grabbing her mirror. “I think we are finished! What do you think?”

Quickly getting up like an eager schoolgirl she quickly grabs for the mirror to see Nilin’s masterpiece. Gray eyeshadow balanced well with the dresses tone, it made her feel like a model in those magazines. Her lips a natural rose pink, she touched her lips thinking about the kiss Viorel and her would share. Gemina turns around excitedly.

“I love it, I feel like a princess,” Gemina tells her, “Imagine Viorel coming down the stairs and grabbing my hand.” Gemina began to go into her fantasy land, so much so she grabbed Nilin’s hands and began to sway with her as if she and Viorel were in the same room, Nilin had disappeared for a brief moment in her mind, “Cal mai minunat.” she tells Nilin in Romanian, “Let me see your outfit. I want to repay you.”

She chuckled softly, grinning from ear to ear as Gemina started to sway and she less gracefully moved along with her as Nilin had no clue who to ballroom dance. She loved seeing how passionate Gemina was when it came to her husband. The Romanian statement of ‘most wonderful’ was completely lost on Nilin but she understood the last statement on what the other woman wanted. “If you insist!” She stated, cleaning up her supplies before heading back to her room so she could show Gemina the outfit she had decided to wear after many many attempts to get it right. She wanted today to be perfect or at least as close as it could get to that. “Here it is! Do you think it is good?” Nilin asked nervously, showing her the elements of the outfit all laid out on the bed.

Gemina gives out one of her girlish giggles and decides to probe Nilin with a tease, “It matches.” she mentions. Waiting to see Nilin’s reaction before dropping any more hints as to what she is alluding to.

Nilin raised an eyebrow, looking over her outfit a bit confused if matching was a good or a bad thing. “Well, isn’t it suppose to match?” she asked, now a little nervous on where this was going since she spent hours choosing every piece to make it perfect.

Gemina gives a small hint by grabbing her hair, “All

outfits are suppose to match. Color coordination and balance is what Viorel says. Just something I noticed is all.”

She could have almost sighed in relief at her words but instead just smiled back. “Can I ask you for a favor? I have no idea what I should do with my hair so I was wondering if you could style it for me?”

Gemina brushes Nilin’s hair off her shoulder, “Of course I can. I’d be honored it is the way I can repay for making me feel as if I were royalty.”

“We need to do things like this more often.” Nilin replied gently. “Maybe invite some of the other girl to join in the fun!” She added excitedly. If they weren’t on a time limit, she would probably start planning now and trying to convince the other girls that such a thing was a must. “I guess I should at least change into my outfit first so I don’t mess up all your work later.”

While Nilin began to dress Gemina began to rummage through Nilin’s kit, taking out a red ribbon, a brush, and an curling iron.

“It would be nice, perhaps it would relax Bridget,” Gemina tells her, “Are you ready, please sit down?”

She was just finishing up the last buckle on her shoe when Gemina asked if she was ready which she gave a small nod before sitting down. It had been so long since she could even remember anyone playing or styling her hair.”I wish she would open up but maybe she will warm up to all of us with some fun things like this.” She replied, Nilin’s eyes closing to enjoy the process. She felt her hair being softly brushed before hands would carefully gather her hair, working with skill and ease. She could hear the click of the curling iron as it opened, sections of hair being pushed away, a slight pull as it roll up and just a single moment of pause before the hair was released feeling almost lighter than before.

“One last touch,” Gemina said, grabbing the red ribbon she had found and tying into a fashionably cute bow, “There you go. Tell me what you think. Perhaps I should open up a salon?”

“Absolute perfection! Thank you so much, I love this hairstyle!” Nilin squealed happily, hugging Gemina. “If you open up a salon, you better bet I will be the first in line.”

“I think salons have schedule books,” Gemina told Nilin, “I am glad you liked it.” There a came a soft knock on the door. Though Nilin being the owner of the room Gemina waited for her to invite whom she knew it was in.

Nilin smiled, about to reply when a soft knock, if you could call it a knock announced that someone was at her door. “Please, come in!” She called, making sure not to yell but to be loud enough that the individual could hear her.

Slowly opening the door he was uncertain what he would be met with. Instead he was looking at Nilin in a red dressed with a red ribbon, her hair in a messy, bushy ponytail. Styled to be that way. While Gemina was braiding her hair sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked as iridescent as the day they met, always iridescent. It was hard not to face such beauty at times.

“You both look well coordinated,” Viorel complimented with a slight bow, “Nilin I am stealing Gemina away.” Gemina stands up quickly tying the end of her braid.

“Do you like my makeup this way?” she ask him, “I tried to be more dramatic and bold. Get out there more.” She was using slogans and language she had seen on the glittery pink feminine magazines she used for research purposes.

“I like you anyway, to me you are beautiful because you are. Anything you add is an enhancement to how you naturally glow,” Viorel tells her placing a hand on her cheek, “With that said I would like to show you off to as many people as I can. Forget about breakfast today, and we shall pop into a shop and get a nip to eat, I know a place with a good assortment of teas.”

She practically swooned, he wanted to show her off? Like she were a prized treasure no one could have. She had completely forgotten about breakfast, but this was starting to turn out really like a date.

“What about the children?” Gemina asked.

Viorel didn’t want to answer, but he looked at Nilin, “I get the feeling they are making pancakes. I’d like to tell you something though Nilin. Someone will want coffee with you.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I will be sure to be prepared before someone’s arrival. I will see you both at the parade and I hope you enjoy your time together.” she answered, giving a light bow of her head before watching them go, closing the door to her room when they were no longer in view. She hoped to have a love like that one day. You could tell how much those two adored each other with no words needed. Nilin took a glance at her phone, the screen lighting up to show her that the time had flown by when she was having a good time. It was time to finish up and then she could relax a little bit before the parade started as it was going to be a busy day from that point forward. Carefully, she pulled off her glasses before setting them on the dresser and took out her contact case. Using her hand mirror, Nilin gently popping one in each eye and blinked a few times to make sure they were in correctly. Once that was taken care of, she started work on her makeup by pulling out her bright metallic red eyeshadow and applying it to her lid before using a black eyeshadow to blend in at the edges. The next step was using eyeliner to help make the look a little more dramatic and inked in her waterline as well to really make her eyes stand out. It didn’t seem quite finished, even with the effort put in so she add a touch of eyeliner under her eye before busting out the gold glitter to highlight the corner of her under eye. A simple red lipstick was applied to pull the look together which made her feel pretty proud of herself. She felt powerful and beautiful which was what she needed to boost her confidence around the crowds she would soon face. Gemina had helped distract her from it but now, alone….that worry crawled back in along with new worries that seemed silly in comparison.

Deep breath….shake it off….

A nod to herself, she embraced the feeling of looking amazing and wouldn’t like anyone bring her down. Crowds or no crowds, she would roll with the punches and with that she flew her door open headed for the kitchen to at least say hello to everyone even though she would hold off on breakfast since she would be having a coffee date. Should she be calling it a date? That was a question she would put a pin in and revisit at a later point in time.

Alyssa stopped her singing when Jack had appeared, giving the man of blades a nod of acknowledgement. While she never spoke with anyone aside from Jensen and occassionally Blinky - whose language she apparently spoke, she was not the type of creature who would blatantly ignore the people her master worked with.

"Oh, good morning Jack. Looking sharp there." He greeted with a smile. He then nodded and then gestured for him to come forward. "I'd love for you to help." He then scratched his cheek. "I only made a few though so you can just add up." Jensen gave him a thumbs up. It was still going to take some time before he finished up with this, so it was fine. Besides, he enjoyed cooking with others. There was Nilin and Gemina too. It was fun whenever they made something together... well, once they convinced Gemina to allow them to use the kitchen.

Alyssa raised her head again, and this caught Jensen's attention as she stared at the stairs. Ah, there must be someone else coming. Well, it's breakfast after all and Jensen could understand if others wanted to eat too. They had a long day in front of them. Makes him think that pancakes won't last them. But well, oh well, he's prepping them now and there's no need to second guess himself.

When Myles came into view, Jensen gave him a cheery wave. "G'mornin Myles. Want any pancakes?" He offered. "They're not yet ready, but it will be soon!" He continued. Jensen had always liked Myles. If anything, it was because he was a cheerful guy in and out of the camera. It was an admirable trait - especially nowadays. He often remembered how excited Faye was when she heard that Myles joined SYNBAD. He was pretty sure that she would have jumped at the chance to take a picture with him had it not been for Jensen, who decided to not let her anywhere near Myles when she was so excited. "You look good man, good job!"

Jensen went back to paying attention to his pancakes. Ah, they were almost done. He practically flew towards one of the cabinets and got three plates and laid them down on the table near them. He then went back to the pan and was practically on auto-pilot. "Ah, I'm pretty excited for that parade thing. Might as well enjoy it even though they announced it through a note on the corkboard." He let out a light laugh.

He was not against Laura's way of doing things. It was more interesting that way for him. That or he just got used to it after so long. Ah, now he was remembering the times he called Laura 'Aunt Laura' because of his young age. She didn't scare him at all. Hanging around Viorel and Gemina whose faces are bound to keep that neutral, almost disappointed look, forever on their faces may have helped with training to face the girl. Her sudden interviews spiced up his off days and it always made him think he should work harder for SYNBAD to prove that he loved this place.

He prepared slid the pancake he was cooking onto the plate and prepared the next batch. Looks like Jensen wouldn't be eating until much later, but he'd rather have filled everyone's stomachs before he ate himself. He saw Alyssa start to fly and then sat down on his right shoulder again, but seemed to have a protective aura around her. "What's the matter girl?" He questioned but Alyssa didn't reply.

Knowing the fairy wouldn't reply once she got this way, Jensen continued to cook and place the pancakes on the plate. When he heard Chloe's compliment, he pumped his left hand upwards. "Thanks Chloe! Take one if you want. I think we have some butter and some syrup in the fridge." He wasn't exactly sure if they had the stock. Jensen couldn't remember who was in charge of shopping for the past week since it wasn't him, so he wasn't sure if they had any stock of butter and syrup but he certainly hoped so.

"More than ready." He turned around and adjusted his bowtie - the young man looking like a waiter more than anything, merely lacking a black sleeveless vest to complete the look. But he looked extremely confident in himself. "Looking good by the way Chloe."

Then soon enough, he turned back to his pancakes before another one bounded down. "Luka!" He cheered. There was something about the guy that gave Jensen energy. He always loved Luka and his partner Killer Queen. Luka was a cheery guy too - odd, but who wasn't? "Morning's been good! So far."

Nearly done with all the pancakes he had to cook as Jack was already helping him, Giovanni strode in. "Ey man!" He called out with a two fingered salute-wave. "Already making them man. Take your pick!" He gestured to the plates on the table. Jensen then stretched. Finally, he can eat soon. The heavenly smell of pancakes made him hungry and he couldn't wait.

Jensen finished up and then grabbed a plate. Then he heard the telltale signs of someone going down. Alrighty, there's enough pancakes for everybody so it was completely fine. When Nilin came into view, he opened his mouth and it hung open when he finally registered her. He placed his plate down and then clapped slowly. "Wow Nilin, you look absolutely breathtaking!" He complimented. His voice was full of admiration and wonder - like a younger brother looking up to his older sister as if she did something admirable. Frankly, she did and Jensen was more than impressed. Gods, Faye would love to see Nilin like this. "You're gonna leave everyone speechless with that look!" He gave her a grin and a thumbs up.

"Pancake?" He followed up, picking his plate up and then gesturing to the other one on the table.

Bridget woke to the sound of her alarm, it's incessant ringing making sleep a distant memory. She lay there curled up on her bed, her bed being hardly big enough to support her. Even with it being a double bed she still needed to huddle into a ball. This room is awful. She reached over to her custom built phone, sliding the the alarm of, finally ending it's ringing. She groaned as she finally uncurled herself, her legs rolling over the edge of her bed and her feet landing on the ground. Bridget hated this cramped space, the only thing that wasn't too small was the sealing, and that was attributed to it being an old style fire station, being built back when all the sealing's were around 13 feet tall.

She brushed her hair from her face as she shuffled over to her dresser, sliding open the draws and sifting through he neatly folded clothes. "What to wear, what to wear?" She said to herself, she knew it'd have to be something special, she couldn't be caught at an event like this in anything that was less than gorgeous. As Bridget continued looking through her clothes she eventually found something she deemed appropriate for this event. Bridget had settled on a ravishing black dress that she felt would keep a fair few eyes on her, well she hoped she would at least.

Bridget would stretch her small wings and tail, letting out a sigh of relief as she felt lots of things pooping back into place. She carried the dress and a couple of towels with her into the bathroom. She grumbled to herself about the tiny showers, stripping down and placing her dirty clothes in a pile next to her towels and dress. She ducked into the shower cubicle and turned on the hot water, she didn't mix in any cold water or anything, just pure hot water. She cleaned herself, taking a considerable amount of time, not only because she was through, but because of her extra limbs.

After she was finally finished in the shower she shuffled out of the cubicle. But instead of using a towel to dry off like a normal person, Bridget simply raised her temperature to such a degree that all the water on her turned to steam. This trick doesn't work for her hair though, so she did need to dry that like normal. Now with the shower finished, it was time to style her hair, in this area Bridget was actually fairly simple, just drying off and brushing her hair, making sure it was straight.

For a model who endorses facial creams and such, Bridget actually used very little beauty products. It turns out that scales and plated armor don't take creams very well, and most makeup doesn't work well on heated armor plates. This complete lack of make up actually made it so she got ready at a decent rate, even when taking her very long showers into consideration.

She was actually well covered up as she moved around the bathroom, getting into her dress as soon as all her other preparations were done. The black dress actually made Bridget seem oddly intimidating, even more than usual nasty aura. It was something about the red of her scales mixing with the black of the dress, but she looked quite fierce.

Bridget exhaled. It was time to go into the kitchen, so she'd have to engage with the others again. Uggggggh. Reluctantly Bridget made her way down to the kitchen. As she walked down into the kitchen she caught the smell of pancakes, it was nice, but she knew that she wouldn't eat any. She needed a little more than some pancakes and syrup to fill herself up.

She bumped her face into the door frame that lead to the kitchen, this made her instantly angry. She continued into the basement and glared around the room at everyone. "You lot say, nothing." Today was going to be a wonderful day.

Without another word she reached into the fridge, pulled out a whole roast chicken on a plate. Then she walked over to the couch, it groaned as she sat on it, her massive weight being a bane to it's existence. She grumbled to herself, hiding her embarrassment with her anger.

@knifeman



“You look handsome, like the time we spent our anniversary at the eatery in France,” she says fixing a crease on his coat and laying a hand on his shoulder. Sometimes he felt hesitant in these moments. He wanted to kiss her, but felt that was too forceful. Gemina smiles at him, there’s a twinkle in her eye. Sometimes he wonders if he cursed her with such animation and such swell of emotions. Then there are times when he is reminded of walking on the beach with her in the 20s. They nearly got arrested for taking the shells of the beach, but someone recognized him in the department back then.

“You are more beautiful age,” he tells her, she giggles, and turns into him. Leaning in, her eyes closed, and herself on her tippy toes. Viorel closes his eyes as well and they give each other a peck on the lips.

“Viorel,” Laura’s sharp tone startled the both of them.

“Oh,” Gemina turns away shyly.

“Is there something the matter?” Viorel ask Laura.

“No I’d like to bring something to your attention,” Laura says.

“Very well,” Viorel bows slightly, he looks to Gemina.

“I’ll tend to the children,” Gemina says walking off towards the basement. Laura watches her, then looks at him.

“You two are so weird, Angy grabs me arse in public and you two innocently peck each other’s lips like its some fantasy fairy tale, but act like I walked in on you guys having sex,” Laura remarks.

“We just like to remain modest,” Viorel replies. Laura shakes her head and ushered him from the hallway across the door to the call center. It’s where a few New Breeds of the past community took care of calls. The ones who wanted to help, but couldn’t provide much assistance on the field, did so here. Taking in complaints and other cases.

“As I know I screen everything each SYNBAD members does, you’re aware of some members Snapgram accounts?” Laura ask.

“Yes, it’s where I pose my puppets,” Laura gives him a stare.

“I hope that’s a joke,” Laura remarks.

“Myles taught me,” Viorel he nods his head slightly.

“Of course he did, well you should tell Luka and Myles to be more careful,” Laura replies.

“Is there a privacy issue?” Viorel ask.

“No, but something else could provide us a public disturbance issue,” Laura says having him come over to his computer. He was staring at both Luka and Myles photos, what’s the word they call it, tagging themselves going to the parade. Youth being the youth. Viorel nods his head.

“Yes, this seems typical of both,” Viorel replies, not seeing the pressing issue.

“And while I don’t put much stalk in social media stupidity,” she continues, “They have been both tagged in this flag by a username Bewitched. I am looking into more personal information as we speak, but she has gathered up a group of folks who call them Victims of New Breed Abuse. They even have a forum.”

“Are they violent?” Viorel asked, that’s the concerning matter at hand.

“No they are over dramatic complainers,” Laura replies, she clicks on a few things, “I give you. My boyfriend with the dog again. He doesn’t ever think about my needs or wants or ask me if maybe I want to spend time with the dog. He just takes her.”

He nods in acknowledgement.

“The reply she gets,” Laura continues, “You should dump him. Just because your boyfriend has the ability to speak to animals doesn’t mean he gets to be inconsiderate to your wants and needs for your dog.”

“Essentially what I am getting from this is that we even show an ounce of kindness, whether it be buying coffee or opening the door they’ll complain about it,” he finds himself remarking.

“Yes,” Laura looks frustrated.

Viorel nods.

“I’ll warn the group not to interact with,” Viorel gives her a look of confusion. Laura opens the profile of Bewitched. To something of a young girl who has purposely dressed herself into satanic imagery. Viorel takes a second to gather himself.



“I notice I have stunned you in silence,” Laura looks at him.

“It’s, unique,” Viorel replies, looking at the 666 on the young ladies head. Laura continues to watch him.

“Thank you for informing me,” Viorel nods.

He bows to Laura and makes his way towards the basement. He didn’t always understand the youth of today, always saying rude things to each other online. Always making snarky remarks. Politeness seemed to have died in the wave of anonymity. Though he knew some anonymous Knights with more respect than many of the youth today. Heading down into the basement, Viorel looks at the group that has gathered. Bridget is sitting on the couch with a whole chicken, Myles is rummaging through the cupboards, opening then closing them. Jack and Jensen are making pancakes. Gemina is watching them with a slight hiss. Luka is also here, very good then.

“Myles and Luka, I need to speak to you two privately for a moment,” Viorel announces he noticed it might sound like they are in trouble, “you’re not in trouble.” he quickly adds.

Jensen had kindly offered Chloe one of his finest pancakes. Sarah looked on in disapproval as Chloe said thank you and picked up one of the floppy brown discs with a fork and slapped it onto a paper plate. Now, she had orange juice, a sandwich, and a pancake. A hearty meal for the most important one of the day! Right?

Nilin made her way into the room, and immediately Chloe got a little nervous. She moved away from Jensen and the pancakes and moved back to a table. It was subtle- but she was actively trying to avoid Nilin. She had done it over the course of the last few months, and since Nilin isn't eager to mimic the powers of everyone she sees it had been easy. When the Experts first learned that Nilin could mimic powers they immediately commanded that this must not be allowed to happen. They said it might mess something up, that Chloe could not be sure of the nature of their connection and that it were best if no outsiders began to snoop around in her head. It might be nothing, but it might be everything. There was no sheepish cowering on Chloe's part. It was just a barely conscious decision to keep a little distance. That's all, that's all. Chloe began to calm down a little bit when Sarah made eye contact with her and made a hand gesture that all was well. Chloe heard a dull thud from upstairs.

"You lot say, nothing," Bridget said after bumping her head into the door frame.

There was really only one option. Sarah looked at Chloe crossly, as if she had read her mind on what she was about to say.

"Ms. Caldwin, don't be ru-"

"Nothing," Chloe said with chipper, false obediency, chuffed at her stupid joke. She took another bite of her sandwich and waggled her head from side to side as if she were the smartest person in the world, looking at Bridget while doing so.

"It wasn't even that clever," Sarah mumbled, running a hand down her face. She glared at Chloe. "She's new here, Chloe. You know not her temperment. I mean not to judge on appearence, but she does look like something a child would be afraid of being underneath their bed- if she could fit."

Chloe briefly looked at Sarah's direction and shook her head, knowing for certain that Bridget would appreciate her little joke before going finishing her sandwich and cutting into her pancake with a fork and knife, thinking about the parade. Meanwhile, upstairs, Reginald was looking over Viorel's shoulder as the photo of the girl was shown.

"By God! What kind of she-beast is that?" He said, incredulous, making the Sign of the Cross as he took a step back from the foul imagery.

"Calm down, dude," Arnold said peaking over Reginald's shoulder, who was peaking over Viorel's shoulder. "It's just a kid." He furrowed his eyebrows. "A really troubled kid, I'll admit, but still a kid."

Reginald shook his shaved head underneath his helmet. "In my day, a witch like that would be burned at the stake," He said disapprovingly.

"In your day Chloe would be burned at the stake," Arnold said, raising an eyebrow. Reginald reflected this on a moment. "Hmm. Touche."

"It's pronounced 'Touché'," Clarissa said as she meandered past. Reginald grumbled something about the French and began to stomp his way downstairs. Arnold looked at his wrist where there was no watch, and sighed, deciding to vanish and wait out the morning until the parade, as had Joanna.

Chloed quickly waved to Reginald as he appeared at the top of the stairway. He waved back and looked at her plate. "Pancakes, young Caldwin? Do you wish to have diabetes?" Sarah nodded in agreement. Chloe scowled and indicated with her fork that there was only one pancake there. If only they could read her mind, for she also said 'I can eat whatever I want!' with her facial expression. If she were in private she might counter verbally, but they both knew that she was embarrased to talk to her Experts in public and thus had to put up with their teasing. Reginald walked down the stairs when Viorel appeared behind him. Viorel's presence, of course, immediately filled the room.

Chloe ducked her head, realizing that Luka and Myles were in trouble for something as he called out their names.

"You're not in trouble," he added with an important addendum. Chloe visibly relaxed, going back to eating her pancake.

Jack's offer of assistance was happily requested by Jensen, and with little time lost, he began whipping up a batch of his own pancakes. "Whipping up", what a curious term. What could it refer to specifically, when it was used in such a broad fashion? In due course, most everyone else who wasn't already there poured into the kitchen after he had, ready for breakfast and whatnot.

First, Myles with a bit of a downer expression - 'Morning, Myles. Like Jensen said, we're just cooking pancakes; I know they aren't normally your thing, so if you want, I can whip up some bacon and eggs for you instead? Man, they always forget about the sausage in that, despite it being such an important part of the meal. Sure, you can have bacon and eggs on their own, but it's just not the same, is it?'

Then came Chloe, who called out her presence before even reaching the room - 'Hi, Chloe. They do smell good, right? Feel free to have some if the sandwich isn't good.'

Next up, Luka, looking as good as ever and asking how their mornings had been - 'Morning, Luka. My day's been pretty good so far, even if it's just been showering and all that. And a bit of cooking, too. You look great, man, nice outfit.'

Giovanni came in a little while after that, asking if he could get some of those pancakes - 'Sure thing, Gio. They're for basically everyone, after all. I'll probably have some once everyone else has theirs, I reckon.'

And then Nilin arrived, looking way better dressed than pretty much everyone else in the room, even Luka - 'Holy crap. Yeah, you look amazing. You'll be the talk of the town, I'm sure - is that old-fashioned of me to say? I mean, I know it is, but if it's true, then it's probably not an old-fashioned sentiment, right? Plus, Viorel is the oldest-fashioned person, and he's never said it, so it's probably not that old-fashioned yet.'

Bridget was next down the line, and by this time, Jack and Jensen were basically done making and passing out their pancakes, so Jack moved on to Myles' bacon and eggs. Admittedly, Jack wasn't sure how to approach Bridget, given how hostile she seemed to be to everyone but Myles, and even he wasn't always on her good side. She was dressed well, though, so Jack figured he'd address that - 'Morning, Bridget. I'm gonna say something, actually, and it's that you look damn good in that dress. Gives you an aura of power, you know? Everyone likes to feel powerful, don't they, so whatever you're wearing, more power to you. That applies to everyone, really,' he continued, addressing the entire room pretty confidently. 'We're gonna have a good time today, I can feel it! I mean, unless some huge tragedy happens, but it's a pride parade, and we're there, so I imagine it'll be fine.'

Finally, Viorel leaned into the room, calling Luka and Myles away to chat with him. 'I'll have your stuff done for when you get back, Myles!' Jack called as he walked out, leaving him to finish off the bacon and eggs and sausage- no, actually, it was sausage, bacon, and eggs. The sausage was arguably the most important part, since he thought about it. Or at least had the most bulk compared to the other two aspects of it. Regardless, he finished those off, with a bit extra in case anyone else wanted some too, turning the heat down on the pan to make sure all of that stayed warm and ready to be served, then took to the table and grabbed some pancakes for himself, drizzling them with syrup before tucking in.

'Mm. You did good on these, Jensen,' Jack uttered after a couple of mouthfuls. He really had, honestly, they had quite a few good cooks in the SYNBAD building. Usually Gemina insisted on cooking, but it was always a good time being able to contribute to the offerings made.

Light was the life of all things, so as it began to dance through glass Stirling stirred awake as sunlight graced their cheek. Slowly opening their eyes, a halo of colors bent beautiful radiant colors in Stirling’s focus. Focusing on the colors for a second, like someone might stare into the darkness trying to make out disfigured shapes, they tried to discern what the rainbows in their lenses told them. Lying there for a moment, mesmerized by cosmic lights, until there’s a realization that something is happening today. Raising an arm towards the ceiling and stretching, playing with the beams of light coming from the window like orchestrating something invisibly universal. A touch of heaven, perhaps. Just wanted to lie here for a little while, but soon it would become that movie where they left their family alone forgetting about them.

They had hung their outfit for today in advance, hanging on a rack behind the door. They hadn’t wanted to stand out, mostly choosing tans and browns. Grabbing the hangar and a wicker basket with their cleaning supplies, why would they leave it in the restrooms for someone to use? The point of a shower isn’t to clean oneself, but to polish oneself. Never envious for those with the dull soft skin they had, it seemed to require a lot more maintenance.

“Wow, is that what you chose to wear today,” a voice breaks the peace of the morning. That’s right, they had offered to share a space with another. Turning their attention to the person who talked to them, it’s just the girl who works at the call center. What is her name? They can’t really bother to remember someone who works in the call center. They remember it just because they live together, Cassy.

“Yes,” Stirling replied.

“It’s very cute, I wish I could wear something out like that,” Cassy smiles.

“It’s not a matter of wishing, you either do or you don’t,” Stirling says, but Cassy looks at their satin nightgown.

“You’re always cute,” she tells them.

“Is there a reason you are complimenting me so much?” Stirling ask.

“I thought you deserved a compliment,” she smiles.

“I see well, I have nothing to compliment you with,” Stirling replies.

“Oh that’s fine, as long as my compliments made you happy and brightened your morning,” Cassy continues, “Jealous I have to manage the call center and you guys all get to go to the parade.” Cassy frowns and looks sadly at the floor.

“Well you’ve done nothing, but manage the call center and you don’t have an ability that otherwises provides anyone with something, the parade is to celebrate those who actually do stuff,” Stirling remarks.

Cassy gives them a glare.

“I always thought your attitude towards me was just because you been through a lot, but you can be a jerk,” she huffs at them.

Stirling shrugs, this is after all a distraction to what they had planned to do anyway. Shine and polish before heading down. They wished sometimes that Foster and Harper would live here. That way they could share a room with those two, more specifically so they could talk to Harper more. Didn’t care too much for Foster.

Heading into the bathroom, it’s the beginning of peak morning activity as more of the females have entered the bathroom. Steam from the showers, some doing their makeup. They don’t bat an eye at them.

“Cute outfit,” a girl with raven black hair tells them.

“It seems to be a popular outfit today,” Stirling remarks.

“Do you have anything for your hair?” she outstretches her well manicured, red nails, to play with their hair.

“No,” Stirling replies.

“You could look at my hair clips if you like,” she offers.

Stirling had known some of them since they were small. This is the way they treated them. Like he needed their kindness or needed offerings from them. Though they knew all too well you can’t burn your bridges. So often they just engaged with them.

“Sure,” Stirling replies.

Finally it too a lot of passing and moving around from the crowds to get to the final shower. Choosing a lavender scented soap, and grabbing a purple luffa, they had to look lustrous for the day. Shine seemed to be an important factor these days. To look “clean”. A concept that they didn’t really understand, because they had more in common with the rock during a rain shower than they did a mammal. The luffa glided on their skin and it didn’t feel at all coarse on their skin. Instead it felt like it were gliding, the soap and water made their skin slippery. Stepping out of the shower, they just patted themselves dry from having too much excess water rolling down their skin. Water didn’t soak, it evaporated, or rolled down creating a massive puddle below them. So they usually kindly placed a towel underneath their feet to get dressed.

Firstly were the brown capris pants, with a stretchy waistband, that they tied with the strings on the inside. They were loose and flowy, despite it being March weather could be in between chilly and warm. Didn’t want to get too hot, didn’t want to be too cold, this seem like the perfect style for that kind of weather.

“I have to ask, what brand are you using?” a girl with pigtails ask them. Stirling looks at them.

“Brand?” Stirling ask, grabbing the tan button shirt and buttoning it up, though keeping it loose and tucked it, it’s long sleeve, but thin in case it gets hot.

“Of soap, it always smells nice,” the girl continues.

“It’s a half and half solution of lavender body soap and water,” Stirling replies, grabbing the gray cardigan and placing it on as well, making sure not to bunch up the long sleeves.
“What brand of lavender soap?” she ask as, they wrap their multicolored scarf across their neck.

“I found a recipe online to make my own soap,” Stirling replies, grabbing their nightgown and placing it in their wicker basket. Moving past the crowds of individuals they left the bathroom barefoot, back into their empty room. Probably Cassandra ran off to complain to someone. They’d do their own laundry tonight. They had a lot of delicates and didn’t trust Gemina to do it the way they like their laundry. Heading back into the room to pick up a pair of black slip ons, sitting on a shoe rack with only a few other pairs of shoes. Heading to a sandle brown vintage dress they found at a car boot sale once. A range of different colored stocks stood up on the first drawer, instantly drawn to the blue and gray socks, with flowers and feathers, it bring color to the outfit that it otherwise didn’t have.

Getting them on quickly and putting on their shoes. Dashing out of the room, they left the shared private space. The raven haired beauty, what is her name?

“Abigail,” Stirling calls out.

“Yes,” she replies and she looks as if she remembered something, “Hair clip, right.” she looks at the outfit and gasp, “Those socks are the cutest in the world.”

“Thank you, do you have something that would tie the blue together with the outfit?” Stirling ask her.

“Have a look,” she said handing them her kit.

It took a second of looking through it to find a hairclip of blue feathers, with tan brown spots at the ends. Snatching it up Stirling presented the clips to Abigail.

“Those would go good,” she tells them with a smile.

“I’ll return it in the evening,” Stirling says.

“Want me to put it in?” Abigail ask.

“Please,” Stirling hands her the clip. She stands in front of them, strategizing where it should go. Her face lights up with an aha. She moves to their side and begins to run her fingers through the side of their hair, before she decides to clip the hair on the right side, dangling a little past their side hairline. Abigail smiles.

“You look adorably indie,” Abigial tells them.

“Thank you for your assistance, I will be heading downstairs then,” Stirling moves past her. Making their way down the stairs, they look at the stairs leading down to the basement. The scent of something cooking is already wafting in the staircase. Perhaps, skipping down the stairs, choosing to hop on leg onto the next step, onto the next stop, hop, down, hop down. Stirling slightly inches towards the doorframe of the basement to peak inside.

Viorel is standing in front of the doorframe, his tall stature is hiding Stirling well. Jensen and Jack are cooking, figures, like house maids. Gemina seems hurt that she’s not cooking. Bridget is sitting on a couch finishing off a whole roasted chicken, the idea made Stirling nauseous. Nilin is there as well. Still no sign of the person they wanted to speak to.

Quickly dashing up the stairs, they fled through the black and white tile hallway. Out towards the car park. Sitting on the curb. Waiting for the Twosome’s car.

Bridget sat there eating the whole chicken, she did it as elegantly as possibly without a knife and fork. Of coarse Chloe had to say something, more accurately 'nothing'. She had to poke the bear, but she couldn't have done it with a stick, no she had to use a cattle prod. Bridget put down her food then glared back at Chloe. Bridget was about to lay into her when (luckily for Chloe) Bridget received a complimented from Jack, he was a smart boy so the compliment was not unexpected. "Are you sure that Aura of power isn't attributed to my actual power? Though I know you picked up on that, You're smart." Bridget let out a brief sigh and looked over at Chloe. "Sadly I can't say that about Chloe."

With that insult out of the way she went back to her food, much more interested in her meal than the idea of talking to everyone. Bridget was a little sad that Viorel had taken Myles away, he was the only person there that Bridget had any interest in, she had indeed seen his photos online. She admired his courage to post pictures of himself on the internet, and had come in to stand up for him sometimes, though she did this under the guise of anonymous or fake users rather than her official account.

There was some merit to being distracted by the pan in front of you as Jensen didn't get to witness Bridget bumping her head onto the door from the stairwell. He only heard her warning and when he turned, he missed it entirely. He didn't mind though as Bridget seemed to be in a sour mood after that. She hasn't been there for long and Jensen was still rather nervous around her. Nevermind the supermodel status, she towered over him and he was used to being the tallest person in his class. Though he did try his best to get on her good graces; if anything, so that they could work together well for missions.

"Stunning look there. I expect no less from you, Bridget." He said with a thumbs up and a grin. He wasn't sure how compliments work on her. When he saw her on interviews thanks to Faye dragging him along, Jensen knew that she reacted well to them. Though when she came to SYNBAD, he's been having doubts on how to actually approach her as a teammate and friend. So, he opted to just do what he does to Stirling.

Greet. Compliment. End of conversation unless they want something.

He raised his fork at Jack. "Thanks man." He replied to the compliment. Jensen then continued to cut a small piece before handing it to Alyssa who munched on it happily on his shoulder. He then began feasting on his own pancake, occassionally giving one to Alyssa when she would poke his cheek for more.

When he saw viorel descend with Gemina, he practically froze up on the spot when Gemina turned her head to them. They had just finished cooking and it was quite obvious who did all the cooking. He gave her a nervous laugh and waved his hand. "I can explain." He started. "I thought you guys were going on a date outside so I thought we could whip something up in the meantime." He continued. Though, of course, Gemina wasn't really all that impressed with his excuse.

He saw Stirling peek from there but then quickly dashed up. Probably looking for Harper and Foster. Jensen tried to give him a wave but he was pretty sure that Stirling wasn't exactly going to respond back. Saddening, but it was the truth he had come to accept.

Jensen wondered what Viorel wanted with Myles and Luka, but it didn't seem to be anything too bad so he wasn't particularly worried.

---

'Morning, Myles. Like Jensen said, we're just cooking pancakes; I know they aren't normally your thing, so if you want, I can whip up some bacon and eggs for you instead? Man, they always forget about the sausage in that, despite it being such an important part of the meal. Sure, you can have bacon and eggs on their own, but it's just not the same, is it?'

Good, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. He’d keep the whole imitating thing to himself. Food tended to be the worse time of the day. It meant figuring out what he could and couldn’t eat without making glue in his mouth and trying to find a way to pick bits of shit out of his teeth, killing many toothpicks in the process.

“Sure, eggs and sausage sounds good,” Myles mumbles an awkward reply. Looking at Bridget eating a whole roast chicken makes him grateful that he isn’t entirely a freak. If he had to eat a whole chicken he’d about die inside.

“Myles and Luka, I need to speak to you two privately for a moment,” Viorel announces he noticed it might sound like they are in trouble, “you’re not in trouble.” he quickly adds. Myles is looking up at Viorel, he says they aren’t in trouble, but he looks mad. Viorel always looks mad. He needs to carry cues with his emotions expressed on them. Pin them to his shirt or something.

Myles head toward Viorel standing in the doorframe waiting for Luka. Viorel looks at him, could he be less intimidating?

“Morning,” Myles replies.

Viorel nods his head slowly, “And morning to you.” He waits for Luka.

Luka had resisted the urge to remark, “Big Mood” to Bridget’s choice of breakfast. Self-control isn’t his strong suit, but he at least has that much. He’s thankful he did, because whatever Viorel has to say to him and Myles would have to wait until his life wasn’t in danger. Shooting a quick salute to the others, he strolls out of the kitchen.

Viorel looks at the two, the youngest of SYNBAD, though there had been younger in the past. The youth would be the key to the future at some point. Viorel raised a hand towards the stairs.

“Shall we speak somewhere less busy?” Viorel replies to the both of them.

Luka shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah, sure.”

Myles nods quietly. Viorel said they weren’t in trouble, but it feels certainly like they are in trouble. Being pulled away from the others so they can’t over hear, Myles looks at Luka. What did you do? Is his expression. They seem to drag each other in the trouble they create.

Luka responds with a look of his own that says, “I’m just as lost as you.” His demeanor may suggest he knows what’s going on, but he’s mostly just confused and a little worried. Running his hand through his hair (it’s always been a nervous habit of his), he starts to make his way upstairs.

Viorel guides the two outside to see another youth sitting longingly on the curb. He must be waiting for Harper then. It’s a shame that wouldn’t be the case, he leads the two towards the garden before Stirling notices them. Viorel looks back at Myles and Luka. Both look worried and nervous. Inside Viorel panics, outside he looks calm, what should he do?

“The weather is so nice I figured it be better to talk out here,” Viorel states his intentions.

Myles sighs, “That’s a relief. You scare people Viorel.”

Luka relaxes a little bit. “So, what’s up?” He smiles nervously. Even though Viorel had said they weren’t in trouble, he still kind of feels like they are.

Viorel looks at the both of them.

“While I have no problems with either of you expressing yourself with your computer machines, however, there is concerns you may have gathered the eye of some individuals who may cause you trouble. There name is Bewitched, she seems to have pegged you both as an enemy. I don’t want to see any concerns during the parade, this is more a warning,” Viorel replies.

Myles looks at Viorel. Computer machines?

“I don’t know anyone name Bewitched,” Myles look at Luka, “Do you?”

Luka has to think for a little bit, “No, I don’t think so. Is there any indication of why she has it out for us?”

Thinking back to the beginning of his social media presence, he can’t place anything in particular that might piss anyone off. Everything he had posted so far was pretty inoffensive. Mostly just cat pictures, cute outfits, dumb memes, and the occasional ukulele video. He had barely even shown his face.

Well, whatever the reason, he can’t let this mess up their appearance at the parade.

“It seems she is association your connection with Myles against a grudge she has against him. What do you call it, hashtag monster. I am not sure what all of that is about and unlike Laura I encourage you to continue expressing yourself the way those your age should. Just be wary for those out for your metaphorical blood,” Viorel tells them, “Once Foster gets here we will be preparing to leave. Go rally up the crew. Tell them we should be preparing to leave in ten minutes. I merely felt it important that you both come up with a game plan concerning these individuals.”

Someone who had beef with him, to be more specific? Myles look at Viorel, he didn’t know anyone by the name Bewitched. Unless that meant. Why did she always have to come in and try to ruin his life? Couldn’t she keep her life ruined and leave his out of it? It couldn’t be her, could it? Myles looked at Luka, but didn’t say anything at first. Why couldn’t anything around here be simple? The two of them wordlessly thanked Viorel before they walked off back into the station to gather the group.

As they were doing so Myles quickly grabbed Luka by the bicep and dragged him into an open space of the living quarters.

“I kind of have an idea who this Bewitched person is,” Myles tells Luka.

“Yeah? Who is she?” he tilts his head, curious.
Myles looks at Luka. It would have been different if he hadn’t known them for as long as he did, so Myles stares at Luka

“You have to promise not to laugh,” Myles tells Luka.

Luka blinks, a little confused and plenty more interested, “Of course, dude.”

Myles fidgets with his fingers and nervously prepares. How do you even start to begin?

“Her real name is something real strippery, like Krystal, and we have a long internet history. Point is, I think she’s pissed at me cause I….in a state….of,” Myles trails off for a second, “...okay that’s complicated too. She kissed me, I really didn’t want it….but I kind of liked it too. And…” Myles pauses, “Okay I bit her ear off.”

Luka is speechless for a second. That’s… not exactly what he was expecting to hear. “Wow, uh. Okay.”

Curious, he takes out his phone and looks up Bewitched. It’s not hard to find her, as she tagged him not too long ago. Looking at her profile, he doesn’t really know what to say. Her style isn’t exactly his thing, but he can’t fault her for individualism.

“She didn’t look like that when I met her,” Myles tells Luka as he’s looking it up, “She’s messed herself up. She wasn’t like fit, but wasn’t like…” Myles looks at her profile on Luka’s phone, “...shite to look at either.” Myles looks away.

“Point is, this might be my fault and I am sorry I dragged you into it,” Myles continues, “...keep...it between us. You’re the first person I ever told the story cause some people protected me. I’m sorry I am failure to the New Breed community that if this was ever found out there could be a whole thing about are New Breeds dangerous. It wasn’t like I thought of mauling your face. It’s the same shite we get mad at cats for giving us love nips. I’m sorry my teeth are bloody fucked.” He pauses. Maybe he should do something to remedy this somehow. Turn himself in, nah that would just get the New Breed community fire. After they were all being well liked too. They even have a parade celebrating them.

“I’ll find a way to fix it, trust me,” Myles tells Luka.

Luka can’t help but let out a sigh, “Come on, man. You’re not a freaking failure. You slipped up once; it doesn’t mean you’re awful forever. And I mean, it’s not like it’s your fault she decided to involve me. Don’t worry, dude. I won’t say anything,” he gives Myles a reassuring smile.

Myles hugs Luka, “Thanks mate. So how bout we go get the crew ready to leave.” Myles gives Luka a razor sharp smile, “Let’s suggest putting Bridget on the roof of the bus. Just to see her reaction.”

Luka laughs, “Absolutely. She might kill us, but I’m willing to take that risk.”

Lancaster’s Estate - 9 am - March 9th, 2017

The driveway littered with police vehicles and news vans all trying to find a way to sneak behind yellow tape.

“Awight, please move back, as we do a proper investigation,” Officer Pike, a slim, Frankenstein tall officer says pushing back a reporter.

“What can you tell us about the case?” the reporter continues to push questions. Officer Pike brushes out a ginger curl touching his eyebrow, most of his top hair is in a jewfro, curly, and falling at different sides like curly noodles.

“We’re currently not talking to the press,” Officer Pike continues trying to keep the ordinance, however, it’s going as well as you’d expect as one of the reporters tries to pull a Mission Impossible move and slide under the yellow tape when the officers were “distracted”.

“Oi!” Officer Handel calls out to the reporter, “You’re not allowed in there. Get behind the tape.” As reporters were becoming antsy and several officers were playing a game with them, a old style black beetle began to crawl its way up a small hill, chugging at a pace that seemed comical to onlookers. Going around and parking at the side, with a small little light, followed by a van that read Medical Examiner. Like a scene out of a movie, two individuals came out the beetle like clowns.

There was a shorter young man, wearing fashionable goggle sunglasses, and a black heavy trench coat that came to his knees. Leather gloves, and stylish hair, with sweeping brunette bangs, didn’t give the impression of an officer. Standing next to him and getting out of the passenger side was a man who wore a tan trench coat, of olden style, he was overweight, and towered over the man by a foot. Standing at 6’4”, they looked comical standing by side.

“Medical Examiner Crawford and Wubbzy,” Officer Pike managed to say the sentence with a straight face while some reporters wondered if that was indeed his last name. Medical Examiner Wubbzy balding on top of his head, though had sandy brown hair like one of those Greek olive branch tiaras.

“Pike,” Wubbzy greets with a firm handshake, “How’s it lookin.”

“In there, a mess, whatever did this,” Pike notices some reporter, “A nightmare. Really.”

“Though you think it’s SYNBAD worthy, else I wouldn’t be here,” Medical Examiner Crawford questions taking off his glasses, to look at Pike.

The three of them look at a nosy reporters inching in. Suddenly there’s the sound of several cups falling onto the ground, as a heavy, squeaky door is opening. A young man, probably younger than Crawford is stumbling out of the Medical Examiner van. He throws the cups back into the van, and quickly slams the door. He runs up to the three discussing.

“Anything I missed?” he ask, an average weight, average faced young man with wispy brown hair, and an excited enthusiastic look.

“Sherman,” Officer Pike greets.

“Pike, shite forgot my camera,” Sherman runs back to the van, making another squeaking noise. Slamming the door shut.

“Shall we?” Wubbzy ask.

“Yes, sirs,” Pike replies.

Passing the yellow tape and heading towards the estate, the smell of blood was rich from the front entrance. Blood spilled on the entrance stairs to two large mahogany doors. A piece of arm, belong to a young man lay limp at the entranceway.

“Couldn’t killers be more cleaner, especially of the supernatural kind,” Oliver remarked as they walked into the decadent estate. What use to be white marble floors, had now been smeared with oxidized blood, turning the floor into a reddish brown. The indigo dyed carpet Prime Minister Lancaster talked about getting from India had turned brownish purple. The suede, tan, leather couch meant to match the white marble tile, now soaked in so much blood it had turned a pungent dark brown.

“Jesus,” Officer Pike gasped as he stared at body parts belonging to various people scattered across the living room.

“That’s a 3 to 4 grand couch, you’re never going to get the blood out of that,” Oliver remarks. Wubbzy gives Oliver a look. Sherman is taking a picture.

“You’re not phased by this?” Officer Pike ask.

“Have you ever seen a cyclops shit out a pile of bones in a massive heap of bloody feces?” Oliver ask Pike.

“No,” Pike replies.

“Then there you have it,” Oliver replies, walking deeper into the room looking around. Trying to figure out where to even start with this. While he wasn’t phased by the scenario, there were a lot of missing parts. Only a few corpses remain intact, skin leathery, eyes hollowed out, like mummies, mouth wide open, gaping in agony or torment. Frozen screams.

“Still, there isn’t much left, we haven’t seen anything,” Pike looks around, eyes wide, “this bad in a long time. What do you think could have done this? This doesn’t concern you at all?”

Oliver looks at Pike and places his pointer finger up, “I left something in the car. My concern. Let me go get that.”

Oliver moves past Pike, Wubbyz is inspecting some blood splatters, and Sherman is taking photos of a hand. He walks out for a brief second and walks back in, he gasp in a dramatic way.
“Oh my goodness, this is horrible, I am so concerned,” he says loudly for Pike to hear, “Who could have done something soooo horrible?”

“Quit being ridiculous,” Wubbzy grumbles, “Find us something useful.”

“So demanding, my heart is breaking right now, can’t you tell,” Oliver feigns a beathy, whining voice.

“While Oliver continues to poke at Pike, we do have an issue,” Sherman says snapping a photo, “This is the Prime Minister’s son, is it not?”

Jamie Lancaster head sat in the center of the room, the rest of his body parts still not found. Ghostly, dead, white eyes staring back at them. This was going to be a bit more complicated for SYNBAD, wasn’t it?





The catacombs dripped with water. The musty smell and stench of rotting mummies overwhelmed the senses. As sarcophagus with unusual markings on them had beady, hollowed eyes staring out windows created for mummified men. Two large stone doors opened, illuminating the hall with a faint blue light, that shimmered on the slick, wet, and mossy walls. The stone doors only lead to a chapel, with pews, though instead of some Saintly Christian artifact in the center, there was a statue of black, skeletal looking dragon, with a single emerald eye staring down at what occupants entered this religious hall, with cyclops like vigilance.

“Are you sure it’s dead?” Professor Alexander ask the Priest. A man, perhaps a woman, cloaked in an old robe, it was tattered and torn, even stained with old blood. The lower half of their face covered with a mask and all he could see were porcelain colored skin. Their eyes to shadowed in for him to be able to make any certain he was indeed speaking with a person.

They only bowed keeping their hands in their sleeves without saying a word. He felt a bit of sweat run down his spine when he saw their arm move as they gestured to the center display. Porcelain skin, slender hands, with black, worn down fingerless gloves. It almost looked like the individuals own gloves had been worn for so long it was beginning to get worn into an old cut they had allowed festered.

“And you’ve transferred the money into my account?” Professor Alexander asked.

They nodded again. Was this a vow of silence thing?

“Do not worry, Professor Alexander,” it’s the first words they have spoken this whole entire time, though it is hard to get a lock on their gender, their voice is raspy, quite frankly it sounds like if he were speaking the reaper. Deathly, cold, there’s a whispering that reverbs in the back of his mind, “You do what we ask of you. And we will fulfill our promise to you.”

“I’ve never worked with this Order before, I’ve heard rumors,” Alexander says with a nervous laugh. Alexander goes cold when the individual places their infected hand on his cheek.

“We take care of those who take care of us,” they say, “There’s no need to worry Alexander.”
Professor Alexander nods.

“All right, so I’ll have to do is take the key,” Professor Alexander says.

“That’s correct, and when it is complete, we will know,” they say faintly sounding as if they were going to die right then and there standing.



9:15 am
As the basement began to fill up and friendly faces chatted with one another morning anew, Roll Call was called and the group was told they’d be leaving in 10. Ten minutes being the moment Angelica got here on the community bus. Suited to fit 11, it only fit half that due to Bridget’s size. A common complaint among the group. Still they just put up with it. As they all had to put up with each other’s quirks.





On the road and close to their destination, Foster cursed the fact that he was driving and hungover. Music is at a low volume. The sun is sharp, teasingly harsh with it’s sunrays. Sunglasses seemed to be doing nothing, but making him feel like they were suppose to work.

“Do sunglasses really help with hangovers?” Foster ask Harper, taking a sharp left turn.

“How you tink they should work?” Harper ask him.

“You’re the one who suggested them,” Foster remarked.

“Well it’s just a formality to make others not know you’re hungover,” Harper replies.

Figures. Still London looked pretty during this time of day. To see buildings of old intermingle with the new. There is a nostalgic comfort that comes from seeing it. As he admired the view, a blue, luxury sports car of some sort, begins to speed up, zooming past them. The sound of their engine like a cup of rice rattling around in a bowl uncooked. Foster had to hit hard on the brakes as they merged in without a blinker and came to a near sudden stop after a display of sheer vehicular power.

“Asshat,” Harper shouts.

“Indeed, they could have dangered many,” Foster replies.

“Honk the horn. Shout that motherfucker down,” Harper says.

“I’m way ahead of you,” Foster says pulling into the right lane, since Harper got this car, might as well put it through its paces. Climbing easily from the forty they were going to sixty, passing the blue sports car and merging back into their lane in front of them.

“So you ain’t always a stick in the mud,” Harper remarks.

“I have my moments,” Foster replies with a smile.

Slowing back to the actual speed limit, Foster feels a bit of anxiety beginning to bubble. They were getting close to the station and he realized what he’s committing today. Today is the actual day he ask Nilin on a kind of sort of date. Honestly, that makes it embarrassing to think of in that matter. It’s no different than hanging out, but it always makes him feel like he has ulterior motives.

Going around to park at the station. He noticed a few things, Myles and Luka heading back into the station. Viorel standing out watching them for a brief second, then turning his attention to Stirling sitting on the edge of the sidewalk waiting for them. Well waiting for Harper, certainly.

“Stirling is out,” Foster remarks.

“Ay, aren’t they goin’ be so disappoint,” Harper replies.

“Honestly, I don’t know why they hate me,” Foster says as he’s pulling into a parking space, aligning himself in an appropriate manner, not trying to take up too much room.

“You don’t?” Harper ask.

“No,” Foster says.

“They hate you because you’re you,” Harper replies.

“Oh, thank you,” Foster rolls his eyes, turning the ignition off. Sighing and grabbing the package Harper had wrapped for Nilin.

Foster waves at Viorel.

“Morning Viorel, you are looking well dressed,” Foster replied.

“Fashion is and will always be used to make a statement, though I don’t know quite what statement I am trying to make,” Viorel “smiles”. Honestly he had gotten use to Viorel enough that he knows when he’s not planning to murder you in your sleep.

“Sad vampire,” Harper pipes up in their head.

Foster nearly chokes.

“Something the matter?” Viorel asked.

“No, Harper just thinks you’re looking smashin’ as well,” Foster replies. Foster looks towards Stirling and smiles.

“Morning to you too Stirling, you are looking quite eclectic,” Foster greets them in a cheery tone.

“Or like he raided a single hippies closet,” Harper retorts.

Again Foster tries to ignore Harper’s comment. Hoping that this time might be an actual conversation between him and Stirling.

Playing with a leaf spinning it around, it isn’t like Stirling didn’t notice Viorel, Myles, or Luka, it’s simply they didn’t feel like engaging or eavesdropping. Okay no, that is a lie, as they hid behind the garden Stirling too snuck around behind the bush to hear what was being said. Curiously overhearing things about their silly little websites they had no interest. A group causing a problem for them in the parade. They knew it. If only Luka would let them get close so they could fix them. If they fixed them, they wouldn’t be dragged down by Myles so much and allow Myles to do his own thing, as his own individual.

Hearing Viorel slowly dismiss them, Stirling quickly dashed back where he was sitting. Myles look particularly worried. Luka following along. Stirling continued to twil the leaf he had found in the gutter, as it spun each point like a unique dancer in a music box. Waiting outside didn’t seem so bad. The others were too young or too inexperienced to be of any personal consideration. Maybe that came off cold. He’s not so sure.

Getting up to greet the Twsome.

“Morning to you too Stirling, you are looking quite eclectic,” Foster, he can recognize them, their tones are different and so is their energy, presence. Foster lacks presence, he lacks command. They wanted to see Harper today. Foster shouldn’t go to the parade, he hasn’t earned it. Not the way Harper has.

Stirling doesn’t feel like engaging with Foster. They stand up and walk back into the fire station. Heading down to the basement.

“Viorel says we have 10 minutes,” Stirling says taking the task Myles and Luka were given, before they had arrive. He had just passed them, as they were heading back to the basement. Shirking their duties, surely, and taking pictures of things they shouldn’t.

'Well, you are very powerful,' Jack agreed with Bridget, nodding enthusiastically as he ate. 'I'd say you could probably beat me in a fight most of the time. All of the time, actually, probably. Dragons are pretty strong, after all, so even if you're just part-dragon, that's still a step over most people, I imagine. Anyway, enjoy your chicken,' he tacked on to the end, giving a thumbs up to her. She was pretty neat, even if she was a bit haughty.

In the meantime, Jensen seemed to be apologising to Gemina for doing breakfast that day. 'For the record, Gemina, I also helped cook breakfast,' Jack mentioned once Jensen's apology was concluded. 'I figured I might as well help him, and if I took that away from you, then I apologise. I did also do some bacon and eggs and sausages for Myles, but he left before he could grab any... uh, I don't know if he'll be back soon, so if he isn't, I'll probably take those out to him unless somebody else finishes up first. Oh, we need to do that for Luka too, he didn't get any pancakes yet.' He still wasn't sure why Gemina was so insistent upon always wanting to at least help cook, something to do with her nature as a sort of puppet? Still, there was washing up to do - and even as he had the thought, the kindly woman was swooping in to handle it, putting on her washing-up gloves and setting to work scrubbing the unnecessary pans clean with practiced, albeit stiff and wooden speed. She even set the sausage, bacon and eggs aside in a plate in the microwave. She was always a sweetheart like that.