[IC] Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

[DearTrickster]

_{From cradle to grave, you chose to trade. A pound of flesh for paradise.}

---

Time: Evening - Present Day
Location: Smithy’s Grocery Store, Las Vegas

The sun had finally set. Freaks came crawling out from their protective shadows of the day, to claim what little territory they had left to call their own. Territory that humanity, the Hounds of Humanity, had taken back. Captain Dahl slowly, methodically strapped her black armour. She stared herself down in the mirror wearing a smirk. It took no time to follow up on the anonymous tip, the Las Vegas Police Department had been scrambling for days now to contain the chaos but it inspired some officers to be apart of the greater good. They passed the tip along to the Hounds of Humanity, with kind regards. She fixed her long, glossy black hair into a tight bun not missing a strand. Lips painted a deep crimson red, and sharp black eyeliner lined along her bright green eyes.

They had set up shop in an abandoned apartment building on the edge of town, easily purchasing the land and it’s building. The lobby had been hollowed out as their base of operations, Captain Dahl had her own quarters sectioned off by screens. Off to her right, her weapons were neatly laid out ready pack up. A semi automatic assault rifle, pistol, iron cross necklace and several clips of blessed silver bullets, alongside normal bullets. Her equipment was standard for everyone in her unit, save for the speciality anti-magic weaponry.

The filth of magic polluted the city, Fey had a run of the underground while witches reigned, working closely with the undead mobster Barron. Crime went hand in hand, it was no wonder some of the authorities wanted to cooperate with them. They were doing the work modern law forbade to do. If this had been a different century they would have been obligated by the law to do exactly what they were doing.

She packed all her gear in the appropriate places, easy reach and even dispersal of weight.

Metahumans and magic were holding humanity back. Alone they attracted bigger and more dangerous problems racking up casualties by the thousands in a single encounter. They lost the right to their lives when their actions costed others.

The ideology suited Captain Dahl just fine, zealous in her mission but not a zealot. Where there was work to do and cash to follow, she was more than happy to parrot those words back at them. As the Captain she was rewarded special tools, training and knowledge but most importantly she was gifted Sight. Their mysteries were stripped away.

This was easy pickings. The tip had described where this meeting would take place, a grocery store was easy as it got to block exits and trap them inside. It was only a matter of pushing them straight into a corner, dragging out the most powerful to prop up on the stake to burn.

As a last thought she grabbed her matches.

---

Her platoon leaders surrounded her in the back of a concealed van, led by a people carrier with other men and women. They would be leading the first wave into the grocery store. Behind her in two jeeps were those who would secure the perimeter.

The grocery store was completely dark, void of all movement from what they could see at the front of the shop. Armoured, they quickly and quietly dispersed to cover the exits. Captain Dahl was the last to exit the van, her eyes stared into the grocery store. Those who covered the exits reinforced the doors with traps, jury rigging the door knobs with electricity then pushing heavy dumpsters in front of them. They trained their sights on it waiting for the attack to begin. Two to guard each exit. Captain Dahl signaled for eight to enter first to sweep them out and kill as many as they could without resorting to special weapons. Reports filtered in noting some of the vehicles in the parking lot, particularly a lemon and large beat up van parked side by side.

“Torch ‘em. Don’t want them sneaking off in one of their own vehicles.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her platoon leaders were various specialists in magic lore and had participated in burning Pixy Stix. They were equipped, like her, with the means to rip through their magical defenses. The tip made a point of a powerful witch being there with unknown amount of allies. The first reports to come in from the first wave, was the amount of bodies littered everywhere, the darkness and broken glass.

That gave her a little pause, then a quick order to proceed. They’d easily use this to their advantage.

Inside the grocery store quietly eight Hounds of Humanity, pairs of two approached the group from different angles. Training their rifles forward, careful of their steps and breathing. All eyes and attention were drawn inwards. Taking cover behind grocery shelves, hiding behind stacks of fruit. Short confirmation of who they saw passed between the small teams. They were able to identify witches, three wolves, three large targets two seemed to look human if not freakishly tall. The metal, silver gleaming golem. Finally, the young woman difficult to tell of any association hung on the edges much like the two human giants. They tagged her as a witch, to be safe. The visible faeries littered around the golem in particular, while the golem was holding one of the wolves in its large hands. Descriptions of the targets were communicated while they waited, watching.

Captain Dahl, relayed the information back to the exit teams telling them to increase defenses.

“Remove the witches first, then the wolves and finally the giants. Take the magic out of the equation as fast as possible, don’t let them utter a single spell. Smoke ‘em out, two teams on the witches, the other two on the wolves.”

Captain Dahl paused before finishing her order, “Give them a good scare while you’re at it. Make them panic.”

“Copy that, Captain.” A Hound crouching behind a hill of apples. Over the radios the same Hound told the other pairs to ready their smoke bombs, then added a wickedly creative idea to the plan. The other teams confirmed and at a countdown of three smoke bomb canisters rolled into the enemy’s midst. Plumes of white smoke surrounded the group, only a second passed when screams erupted around them as the Hounds took aim at the sleeping grocery shoppers. Waking them from the sleeping spell with pain.

Cautiously, they moved forward.

[Athinar]

(Since I have Hellis' permission, I'm just going to post this here, separating the two from their collab. Liked writing with ya, man.)

CABBIE

AND

NOVEMBER

IN

DOCKSIDE RAID, PART 2

“YOU BITCH I WILL FRY YOU A-” Ruji began but Kaya ran up on him fast, as he lashed out with a whip of fire, the ghostly blue fire of her power lit up her palms and feet and she kicked off with such force that she lept over the fire whip. It tried to curl up over it self to catch her. But she kicked of a container wall and used the momentum to kick the man at the side of his head. He flew right into the opposite metal wall and groaned. But even then, his fire powers lashed out Kaya only barely avoided the lance of white hot fire. She ducked and rolled, grabbing the pin of a smoke grenade and rolling it along the floor towards him. He smashed it with a burning foot, only for the smoke to choke his flames.

“What?!”

“Surpise!” Kayla met his face with another fist, sending him rocking. He stumbled backwards, shooting fireballs at random, trying to find her in the smoke. But she was like a shark, and she smelled blood.

Reacting quickly, November whipped around, swinging wildly, fist clenched, but he hit nothing but air, as the woman teleported behind him. Before he could react, she hit him twice in the kidneys, making him see stars. However, he didn’t get knocked out, instead, he turned around, dropping a flashbang on the ground in front of the woman, his eyes closed, startling her as the grenade exploded with light and sound.

Deafened, but not blinded or disoriented, November raised his gun, and fired into the woman’s center mass. However, she teleported away after catching a couple bullets, cursing. She must have a vest as well. Noting this, Nick moved swiftly towards Kaya’s location. There was no way he would be able to find the shadow-powered Meta, and she would most likely come to him after the flashbang wore off. He would deal with her then.

Kaya moved fast, but as Ruji got his footing, he appeared apt enough at hand to hand fighting to weather her blows with parries. And Kaya couldn’t stay in close for to long, or he would incinerate her. However, she did notice as November turned a corner and came into view. Ducking a blow she uppercutted Ruji and dropkicked the yakuza with all her remaining mystical might, sending the man rolling and stumbling and as he aimed all his firey attention at Kaya fearing she’d go in for the kill, he had no idea his back was free.

Coming around the corner, November saw the flaming Yakuza member bearing down on Kaya, and reacted smoothly, firing off a burst at him, and hitting him in the back, causing him to drop like a limp puppet.

His fault for not wearing a vest.

Nodding to Kaya, Nick turned around, vigilant for any sign of the shadow-powered Meta. ”The shadow Meta can teleport. Has a vest on, unlike this idiot. Are we still headed to the warehouse, or should one of us get a vantage point on the dockyard, to see if we can spot her? Your plan, your call.”

Kaya was about to respond, when she saw something. Standing on a container, behind November, was a Yakuza member holding a grenade. She barely had enough time to respond before the gang member threw it, although she did manage to shove November roughly out of the way, and shout, “GET DOWN-”

Then the world turned to fire.

[LeeRoy]

Cue Theme Music

In the inky blackness of space burned a line of fire and steel, cutting a bright gleaming streak through the nothingness. Interrupting the twinkling lights of stars and blowing away the particulate clouds of nebulae, despite the vacuum the sound of guitar could be heard. Fingertips drumming on the flat metal of a door, rock and roll blasting through the speaker, the rumble of engine's roar intermingling with the sound of music.

Hair whipped around, caught in the winds of solar radiation and flecked with the dim particulate of the universe's foggy nebula. The sweat on his forehead drifted off, caught in the drag of his own cosmic presence, leaving a trail of sparkling water behind him. Illuminated by the red-gold flames blasting from the exhaust pipes of the devil's truck, they cut a glorious sparkling line through the universe.

The sight was something to behold, but the pilot of this awesome visual assault had his veiled eyes locked on a pale blue dot suspended within a beam of light. A familiar sight, seen dozens of times, a facsimile of his old world. A dreadful reminder of the world lost and countless lives wasted, the sorrowful pangs clutched his chest and his fingers stopped their drumbeat in time with the music. His expression softened for a moment and he spun the steering wheel hard to the right.

Steel wrapped wheels seemed to grind and jerk off to the side and the enormous mass of fire and steel turned its direction towards the distant image. More fire pumped from the exhaust pipes and the grill gnashed like fangs, exposing the starry vortex inside for a moment.

The drumming fingers reached up to the wheel and the other hand let go, reaching down to the silver skull topped gear stick. The gloved fingers gripped tightly and cranked hard, pulling off to the right and then up twelve notches, knocking it in place at the very end of the column. He drove his foot hard down into the clutch and then to the gas, the truck roared a maniacal screech and burst into blue shift almost instantly.

That pale blue dot suddenly became a massive planetary body in his vision and he slammed the brakes, not realizing his distance and Eddie braced himself. Reaching up he frantically grasped his seatbelt and buckled up, his foot pushing the brake to the floor and his hand yanking the gearshift into reverse in a frantic attempt to slow down.

The truck didn't seem to mind, and though it was screeching to a halt it still galloped forward with more horsepower than anything built by man. It broke the atmosphere and screamed its diabolical horn, fire caught along the surface of the re-entering mass and slowed the descent. It wasn't enough though and Orion slammed hard into the top of a building, rubble was sent flying in all directions and he continued downwards.

Striking hard into the ground, completely obliterating the structure and everything nearby in a colossal incident of impact. Inside, Eddie was shaken around and his sunglasses were knocked clean to the floor, his hair fell into his face and he found his chest pressed up against the wheel.

When he finally ground to a halt he found himself on a ravaged street, rubble still falling to the ground in a cloud of dust and glass powder. He reached down and grabbed his aviators, popped them open and slid them back on over his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt with his other hand. "C'mon you dumbass hunk of steel, you gotta come to a stop when I hit the break. I almost hit this planet at the speed of light, idiot. I'm interested in hanging around with these spooks, don't want to kill them yet." He pushed the door open and was shaken out of the seat by the truck, rocking back and forth like a wet dog. Eddie's boots hit the ground with a crunch of glass and rock, turning on his heel with an angry glare. "Jackass!"

Kicking the tire of his truck he reached inside and grabbed his rifle from the underseat. Slinging the strap over his shoulder and slipping his knife into his waistband. "Can't destroy the damn planet without tasting their liquor, you piece of shit." Eddie grumbled and sat down on the step, watching the dust cloud settle.

From his jacket's inner pocket he pulled out a thick stogie, bit off the tip and spat it to the ground. He shook dust off of it that had settled on the wrap and then flicked his thumb like a lighter. A thin flame burst from his fingertips and he puffed twice, watching the cigar catch light. Held it in for a few seconds, rolling his tongue in the smoke and then blew out a thick white smoke. Shaking his thumb to extinguish the flame and then rested his hand on his knee. "Damn truck." He mumbled.

[nitemare shape]

Joe Jenkins was tired of living in fear. Over the course of the last couple of years, ever since the freak in the blue and silver jump suit flew up into the sky and caught a space station in midair, preventing it from crashing into the earth, metahumans and other super powered beings have been crawling out of the woodwork. Since their arrival, the metahumans had done nothing but caused trouble for everyone else. They thought that they were above the law, always fighting amongst themselves, not caring about the damage they did, or the people they hurt…or the lives they destroyed. After his sister was killed in the explosion that destroyed the Downeast Mall, he vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen again.

The Hounds found him shortly after mall massacre. With the pain of losing his younger sister still raw, Joe found himself spending his nights, and more often than not, his days at his favorite dive bar in Little Ulster, Croak’s. The inside of the bar left much to be desired, a couple of high top tables and two pool tables just off of the bar itself. The walls were covered in colorful graffiti, some of it slightly suggestive, and other entries touting the exploits of a certain “Man from Nantucket.” The floor was dirty. Not just in the sense that it probably hadn’t been mopped since about 1987, but in a way that when something was dropped or spilled on the floor, the regulars knew just to leave it, lest risk contracting Hepatitis. So when a recruiter for the Hounds of Humanity found him on that barstool, it took little more than a couple of shots and a promise of revenge to convince him to sign up.

Since that night, he had been a loyal foot soldier for the Hounds of Humanity, hunting down metahumans and dispatching them in the most painful ways possible. Through his hatred, he found a sadistic sense of satisfaction in as he called it, “putting an end to the metahumans threat, one freak at a time.” In the months since he joined with the Hounds of Humanity, he’d gone on numerous missions, in fact, more than he could count. Some were smaller in scale, picking off a meta as she jogged down the street, pulling her into an alley and going to work on her with his blade, or putting one down from a half a block away with a high powered rifle and a scope. Recently he had been involved in several of the raids that had resulted in mass casualties. It was the only thing that brought his mind ease, knowing that he was doing some good in the world.

On this night, he and a half dozen fellow soldiers were tracking a meta of unknown origin in Lost Haven’s French Quarter. They had tracked it to an alley behind Valentin’s, a popular Creole restaurant. The Hounds followed the meta into the alley, however, when they entered the alley itself, they found that they were alone. The surprise of losing their prey resulted in some finger pointing and arguing among some of the men. However, the sudden roar that emanated from behind a pair of dumpsters silenced the men, who immediately took up positions to confront whatever it was that they were up against. However, the alley was narrow and did not allow for optimal combat positioning. When their prey pounced from behind the dumpsters, it ripped into the first several Hounds with a ferocity that Joe had never seen before. The creature stood nearly seven feet tall when it was up on two legs, with long fur as black as pitch. The creature had distinctly canine feature- short pointy ears, long sharp fangs, and on his hands and feet, large razor sharp claws, which it used to tear into one Hound after another. Joe stood there, frozen in terror as he watched the creature dismember each man on his squad. When he finally found the courage to turn and run, it was too late. The beast sprung at him. He could feel the creature tearing into him with his claws and teeth.

The last thing that Joe Jenkins heard was the loud, primal scream as the creature howled into the moonlight.

[Fallenreaper]

Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas

Time: Evening

---

When Odette’s attention turned to the Dover twins, the tension in Ben’s muscles evaporated away. His bristled hairs began to lower, then smooth out. No longer appearing spiky. With a bored small huff, he flopped himself down. He never felt the chill past his fur coat while the aggression in his figure died. Still, his ears remained erect and alert.

Casually his head flipped back and forth to catch any little sound. Benjamin’s jaws widened into a yawn. At the end, he licked across his black, drying nose. His saliva dampened it, both easing the cracking and enhanced his scent of smell.

Several aromas hit his flaring nostrils. They tingled there while he identified each one, all associated with an individual or thing in his memory. The scent of thawing meat caused his mouth to salivate as his stomach rumbled. He hadn’t fully satisfied his hunger. Noting this, his eyes drifted to the tempting source. Grudgingly, he sat upright long enough to snatch one off the edge.

Something thin and see-through plastic coated the would-be meal. Irritated by the extra work, Benjamin snorted. His claws sliced through the thin barrier then his teeth sank into the bloody meat. Iron bleed into his tongue, drawing his hunger closer to the surface. The tougher meat fell to his penetrating canines as he ripped off large chunks, then slipped down his throat.

His peace was soon interrupted by Ji. Every one of Ji’s movements was locked in frustration and anger when she waltzed over to them. This drew his eyes to snap in her direction. A deep, unyielding desire to protect Marie powered his legs into standing. A low, warning growl vibrated in his throat at the older wolf. Fur bristled slightly across his spine when she spoke.

"You have any idea what Ben and you did?!"

Any additional conversation was interrupted when several human scents caught his nose. A loud, heavy ting echoed throughout the building. Followed by a drawn hiss as a canister rolled into sight. White smoke billowed from its end. In moments, it began to engulf the store.

Bang…Bang! Guns fired off.

It was followed by screams and blood, the scene flooded with chaos. Heat, fueled by the need to protect, poured into his muscles. A deep, threatening growl rumbled through Benjamin’s chest.

His nose inhaled caught the foreign scents of his intending quarry. Fur bristled across his figure as his eyes shot to Ji, an acknowledgment only she would recognize. Without a single word, he bolted into the smoke. His steps determined and with purpose as he lowered his body onto all four at the nearest man.

[KaiserElectric]

Before the storm...

It was sometime in the early hours of the morning when Jane woke up and decided not to try and go back to sleep again. Groaning slightly, she sat up in her bed and gave a slight start at a spark of light before catching herself. Just a reflection off of Monsterk4t's helmet, she realized, wondering again why the mute musician needed to camp out in her apartment. She never saw the guy's house, but she was still pretty sure he HAD one.

Nitpicks aside, Jane got to her feet and stretched out, retrieving a scarf from her bedside table (she still wanted to appear to Voyager as Fullbright but didn't want to wear the helmet 24/7, so a compromise was reached) and wrapping it securely around her face before heading out into the living room. A gentle snoring told her Fangs was still sound asleep, all six limbs sprawled across the sofa like a fuzzy rag doll. She was about to make a beeline to the kitchen to get some semblance of breakfast until she spotted Voyager staring out the window, looking oddly alert.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, I uh, don't need to sleep."

Lucky, Fullbirght thought bitterly as she finished her trek to the kitchen. "Er, well do you want anything? I was gonna make some coffee."

"No, I'm fine."

Fullbright shrugged, before busying herself with the coffee maker. "Are you nervous at all?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's the day of our assault, you're up staring off into space, and you just turned down coffee," Fullbright listed off, fishing around in the cupboards for her favorite mug. "I think the first time I gave you some of that you cleaned out my stock."

"Oh right...sorry."

That wasn't like her at all, Fullbright thought to herself. Taking a chance, she paced over to where she was standing, carefully stepping around the giant tarantula girl's arm trailing across the floor.

"You're scared for Jordan, aren't you?" Fullbright thought she saw a spark in the black eyes of the alien at their friend's name. Lips tightening, she nodded her head yes.

"Yeah, I'm scared too. She's...something special."

"She was the first person I ever met," Voyager said tearfully. "She kept me safe before I started doing this...hero stuff."

"Funny, she didn't mention you."

"Well, you are a 'bad guy', yes?" the alien girl suggested. "She would not talk about me to bad guys, even the nice ones."

"Well yeah, but she doesn't know about that side of me. Not yet at least."

"Why not? You're a villain, but you do nice things sometimes."

"Yeah but...I don't know." Now it was Fullbright's turn to be indecisive, shuffling her feet while thinking of how best to answer. "I'm afraid she'll be disappointed in me if she ever found out. She's...I don't know..."

"...special?" Voyager suggested with a slight smile.

"Er, sure that works," Fullbright mumbled, not exactly certain if coming out to an alien was the brightest thing to do. "I mean, she came around at a rough time in my life, same as you I guess. Really helped me out of a bad situation, and I'm scared of what she would think...scared that she'd be...hurt..." Rubbing away the tears threatening to pour at any moment, Fullbright looked up to catch the alien smiling at her.

"I do not know many people," Voyager mused. "But she is still one of the most...Klingon people I know!"

"I...guess that's a good thing?"

"And wherever she is, we're not going to stop until we find her!" The dramatic statement was undercut slightly by a dull thud as onee of Fang's arms slipped from the couch and fell to the ground, right as the wall began to shimmer.

"A success," Typhoon declared, holding out a set of keys in one hand. "Fang's friend, the wind sorceress in the skirt, was very kind to provide us with this."

"Excellent, we have our ride in," Fullbright said, excitedly rubbing her hands together.

"...hrm, wuzzat? Where's raiden?" Fangs grumbled incoherently as she stirred in her sleep.

"So now we can sneak our way in as members of this...institute?" Voyager mused.

"It'll at least get us past the sentries," Fullbright reasoned. "And once we're in, we find our way to wherever Jordan is being held and bust her out."

"Just like in Star Trek 5!" Voyager said excitedly.

"Whatever works for you, I guess," Fullbright shrugged. "Either way...it's time to assemble the band."

---

"Are you sure she's involved in this, Commander?"

"I am never wrong about my instincts, and my evidence is sound," Commander Krauss, often known as the Gargoyle, remarked bitterly, tugging his gloves off one finger at a time. "Even if she is stubborn, I will get what I came here for." His aide, looking at the fresh bloodstain on his lapel where the prisoner had clearly spat, was clearly unconvinced, but wisely chose to keep that opinion to himself.

"There's other considerations as well, sir," the aide said as the pair of them stepped out of the dungeon level and onto the main floor. "The team that brought Fletcher here reported metahuman activity, and it's entirely possible that one of the local-"

"None of the local freak shows are going to get past the front gate, let alone far enough to even think about rescuing her," the Gargoyle said proudly, looking over a band of soldiers marching by to relieve posts.

"Maybe so, but what about the alien, the one called Voyager? As much as I respect the skill of our men, she can still be incredibly dangerous."

"They're all the same," the Gargoyle scowled. "Inhuman garbage, brought to life to put humanity in chains, and if they dare to show their face they'll be put in the ground where they belong." Before his rant could escalate beyond that, however, the Gargoyle's phone sounded off. Giving the aide an angry look that told him to get lost, he removed it from his lapel and answered it in the friendliest tone he could muster.

"Talk."

"Ooh, so strict today. Has the girl been giving you a hard time, friendo?"

The Gargoyle's lip tightened severely, recognizing the sound of the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with today.

"Hmmm, very silent too. Contemplative perhaps? Thinking of how best to unravel the grand mutant smuggling ring?"

"Have you called me just to waste my time?"

"Oh no no no no, even better. Do me a favor though, duck into that door right on the left? You're on in five." The Gargoyle felt a vein pulsing in his forehead at playing along, but for now relented. Easily spotting the left side door, he took a look around to make sure no one was getting suspicious and ducked inside. The second he crossed the threshold the sterile lighting of the hallway blinked out, surrounding him with inky darkness. Unrelenting, he tried to feel his way forward.

"Is this another one of your games, Pri-GAH!"

Something caught on his foot, and as he stumbled forward the space around him filled with light and sound. Over the din, that voice rang out cleanly over the cacophony surrounding him.

"Dropping in now is my guest star for the evening, a top ranking member of the Hounds of Humanity and the conspiratorial genius behind the uncovering of the grand Mutie Migration, please welcome...THE GARGOYLE!"

The Gargoyle came to a sudden stop, landing in what felt like a plush armchair as applause filled the room. Looking around as he tried to catch his breath, he took in the sight of the cheesy television set he landed on, flooded with neon lights and colors, a small band in the corner playing up a storm. The 'audience' cheered and applauded wildly, grinning faces looking down at him as they chanted for the name of their host.

"And now, ladies and gents, the moment you've all been waiting for...here, live from the Hound's broom cupboard..."

The Gargoyle didn't even consider the raised empty space on the opposite end of the stage before the whole area burst into multicolored flames, showering him and most of the audience in confetti and streamers. The band roared into a new upbeat number as a tall figure emerged from the conflagration, dressed resplendently in a tailored teal suit.

"It's PRIMETIME, everyone!!!"

The crowd roared in celebration as Primetime stepped off the platform and strode to the front of the stage, posing and exchanging quips with audience members. The Gargoyle tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the creature's ego trip to subside. And it was unmistakably a creature. It looked human from the neck down, but above that point there was a metallic looking box where a head should have been, crossed with metal looking bars that made it look like one of those old-time microphones.

Except of course for its mouth. The damned thing never stopped smiling.

"Gargoyle!" Primetime exclaimed excitedly, vaulting over the desk and landing in his chair to face him personally. "So nice of you to join us tonight! How are things with you, my daring diorite dude?" The audience laughed appreciatively as the Gargoyle looked stony.

"Perfectly fine without you and your...whatever this is supposed to be!" the Gargoyle remarked coolly. The crowd started to boo before the microphone headed being held out a hand to silence them.

"Now now, don't be too hard on him folks!" Primetime said cheerily. "After all, trying to harass a girl is grueling work!"

"It's not just about her, it's the whole mutant smuggling ring!" the Gargoyle barked over the sound of the canned laughter of the audience. "If it wasn't for you I'd be doing something more-"

"Oh, if it wasn't for me, you say?" The audience collectively went 'Oooooh' as the host leaned forward, his mouth stretching into a wry smirk. "Folks, it seems my assistance is unappreciated. But lest we forget-" There was a rushing sound and the Gargoyle suddenly found himself in his old military uniform, looking remarkably worn and frayed.

"-when we first met he was merely a lowly sergeant with a dream, and a strange idea about the mutants or two," Primetime added, soliciting a few giggles. "But let me ask the audience, who was it that pulled some strings to get our friend to where he is now?"

"PRIMETIME!" the audience responded gleefully. There was another rush and the Gargoyle was back in the Hounds uniform.

"Who was kind enough to lead him to the first clue on his efforts to take down his smuggling ring?"

"PRIMETIME!" A spotlight clicked on, illuminating the Fletcher girl, trussed up and sitting in a chair looking indignant.

"And who was generous enough to only ask for one little alien girl in return, folks?"

"PRIMETIME!"

"You've made your point!" the Gargoyle spat back before his host could parade around a facsimile of Voyager to taunt him. "Now unless you have anything productive to do-"

"Oh I do, actually!" Primetime said, surprising even the stony faced commander with that revelation. "See, the alien in question is quite powerful, and while I of course have nothing but respect for your boys in black, it seems she would be a little tricky for you to handle."

Some of the audience snickered, and one of the trumpeters made a "wah wah" sound in response.

"So me being the generous type," he continued, standing up from his desk. "I was thinking I would offer you a little gift. A certain something that will be handy when you finally get a chance to tussle with her!" Primetime gestured to the side of the stage as an attractive woman in a short dress walked on stage to cheers and wolf whistles, taking a moment to pose with what looked like a green gem. She handed it over to him with a wink and a smile, allowing the commander to feel the gentle pulsing coming from the mysterious stone.

"Don't you have a prototype that will fit onto, darling?"

The Gargoyle looked up to find himself back in his own office, as though he had just walked in and sat down. No crowds, no gaudy suits, no special effects. Just him and the gem, a gift from a benefactor who, so far, had not done him any wrong.

Smiling slightly, he paged for the engineering division.

[fdeviant]

Cast

Judge and Jury

Part III, Hopkins Man

Location: Shadow of the Moon Occult Curiosities – Chinatown, Lost Haven
Time: 2 p.m., Day After the Attack on LHU

---

Madalena held up the phone, displaying the message to Charlie and Puck, her trembling fingers shaking the screen such that it was only just legible. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement, but either way, it was difficult to contain. Entirely unsure of what to expect from the Witchfinder General, Maddi began assessing potential dangers, mind racing with thoughts of imminent harm and failed reconnaissance. Her last encounter with the Hounds hadn’t ended quite as amicably as she would have liked. The was no assurance that this time would be any different . . . well, except that Puck had promised her safety, but such a promise did little to calm her quaking nerves.

”We don’t have long,” Maddi let out an anxious sigh, ”Ol’ Witchfinder has given us the hour to haul ass to this address. We need to get the plan straight, fast.”

Charlie squinted at the address. “This guy is expecting you to throw someone under the bus to save your own neck. Do we know anybody we can give them a solid lead on? Some shithead that we can toss to the dogs without a problem?” Charlie suggested, then coughed into her fist. “Playing judge and jury on behalf of the Hounds feels pretty slimy, but… it’s us versus them.”

She shrugged, “They’ve made that painfully clear. That address though is for an old flower shop here in Chinatown, I don’t remember seeing it open for the longest time though.”

”I believe I have just the scoundrel for the job . . .” Puck eerily chimed in, closing in on the pair and lowering his voice, as if a mere utterance of the name would summon the owner’s presence.

”The Red Devil has long been in my possession, but it hasn’t always had a seat in Lost Haven. Some time ago, when the tavern was introduced to the city’s underworld, I met a magician named Phoebus. A Goetic Sorcerer by trade, well learned in the Arts of King Solomon. The Solomonic tradition is a noble one, but Phoebus sought certain pleasures not found in the Legemeton. He revelled in death, cherished the thought of it, longed to bath in mortal blood . . . particularly children. He asked my protection in exchange for his underwhelming powers.

“I refused, of course. Though I’ve seen my fair share of infanticide, it wasn’t a profitable business decision at the time, and Phoebus had nothing of value. He ‘cursed’ The Red Devil, a pitiful jinx really, attempting to sap my wealth. I never got around to dealing with him, but I know he still calls Lost Haven home.”

Maddi shuddered at the thought. It was true that witchcraft and other systems of magic were littered with histories of human sacrifice and the slaughter of innocents. Such magic was generally considered taboo among most circles of magicians these days, but not all. She tried not to think about it.

”If a bastard like that is kicking around, I see no reason why he shouldn’t be reported, especially if he starts causing trouble for the city.” Madalena nodded in agreement, looking to Charlie for confirmation.

The alchemist made a face at the description, “Christ, he sounds like he’ll fit the bill just fine. Yeah I have no problem, let’s drop his name for the General to chase. With that in mind, I want to prep a few things just in case things go sideways. Can I see your trash can?”

---

Location: Sweet Narcissus Flower Shop– Chinatown, Lost Haven
Time: 2:48 p.m., Day After the Attack on LHU

Sweet Narcissus had fallen into a state of disrepair after a string of Metahuman attacks along the street earlier in the year. In fact, many of the surrounding businesses had either moved to vacant locations elsewhere in Chinatown, or shutdown completely due to increased activity in meta crime; and the terroristic threats during Pax Metahumana didn’t help matters.

Charlie and Maddi ducked behind a bus stop across the street, Puck moving silently in tow, invisible to all, even those gifted with Sight. Now was their chance to strategize.

”The Witchfinder’s likely expecting me to come alone,” Madalena whispered, mostly in fear that the General had eyes and ears on the flower shop. Then again, he was likely watching their every move since they left the store.

”Should we risk fussing things up by having you come in with me? I don’t want him to target you.” Madalena looked at Charlie with genuine concern. She trusted in Charlie’s abilities, but Maddi was concealing a spell that could save her from death. She wished she would have had the foresight to make more than one poultice.

Charlie pursed her lips, having pulled a sweater to wear and hide everything she made inside it. Lining the sleeves were aluminum tubes full of salt, plastic shards, and copper. On the inside of the pockets she carried spools of magnesium and a borrowed packet of matches. She’d created a small face mask and pulled the hood up.

Charlie gripped her staff, feeling more confident with her pockets full. “I’m terrified, but... ” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s going to happen one way or another, I’m on their radar after yesterday. I can’t pretend because I wore a mask, they won’t see me with a staff and not put two and two together. So, I’m going with you.”

“Can’t turn back now.” She gestured with her staff at the flower shop.

Maddi nodded, hoping that Puck might have some encouraging words, but he was nowhere to be seen, observing from afar as usual.

With caution, Madalena and Charlie tiptoed into the abandoned flower shop, the door creaking loudly on rusty hinges. Low beams of light shone under long, black drapes that looked recently hung. Dust swirled around their feet as they shuffled through the store. It was barren, devoid of any signs of life; no dusty or broken flower pots, no watering cans or garden decor, no withered flowers or crisp seed packets, nothing to indicate the nature of this once bustling business. Was this the right place? No escort arrived upon entrance, no armed security, nothing to suggest the Hounds had ever occupied this location.

And then . . .

“Come in . . .” a muffled voice crept over the empty stone, beckoning the duo to the center of the store. It was a harsh, gravelly sound that grated on their eardrums, sending a chill up their spines.

Amidst a pile of shattered glass casing and fallen ceiling lie a walkie-talkie filtering the mysterious voice through layers of sharp static. Just as Madalena and Charlie leaned in to take a closer look, Hounds in dark body suits began to file through the front and back entrances, encircling the two, weapons held at attention. Soon after, a tall man in a long, draping coat and a wide brimmed hat entered, catching their attention.

“I see you’ve brought a friend,” the same deep voice echoed through the store, spilling from beneath the brim of the stranger’s hat.

“An unexpected turn of events. I thought it only fair to invite a few friends of my own.” He gestured to the crowd of Hounds, each roaring with laughter. It was yet unclear whether the General and his cohorts meant to harm Maddi and Charlie.

“I had hoped you’d be more cooperative, Ms. Hawthorne. Instead, you mock my hospitality by showing me an abomination my men failed to slay once before. Or perhaps you bring her as a gift?” A coarse smile peeked out above the collar of the General’s coat. Madalena could make out the remnants of a scar on his upper lip and a very faint European accent, though it was difficult to place.

Charlie straightened her shoulders, jutting her jaw out. Resorting to solid bravado, even at the sight of being surrounded, scared the living shit out of her. She rubbed the ground with the ball of her foot, slowly. “Talkin’ real tough for a bunch of cowards storming a university during the summer time where the volume of students was at its lowest.”

“Who am I to talk, we’re a wiley bunch of abominations. Able to ruin your day by fucking around with a few towers.” Charlie said, a tap of her foot and one from her staff. “Anyway, we’ve got bigger fish to fry than little ole me. Right, Maddi?”

”R-right.” Madalena struggled to respond, clearing her throat and trying to latch on to Charlie’s brazen attitude. ”Right. You asked for information and I’ve got it, The Alchemyst is just an associate, an asset to you, just like me.”

The General’s hat obscured most of his face, but Maddi could make out another sly grin.

“Very well,” the Witchfinder amusedly acknowledged them. “I’ll allow this minor indiscretion if I deem your insights a productive use of my time. So, what have you found?”

Madalena could feel herself perking up. So far so good.

”A demonologist named Phoebus, nasty piece of work. He’s been skulking around Lost Haven for awhile now, responsible for a few missing kiddos late last year. He and a few of his lackies have been laying low on the waterfront. No clue what he’s been up to recently, but that doesn’t really matter to you, does it?”

The General shook his head.

“Very good, Ms. Hawthorne. If indeed this Phoebus is where you suggest, you’ll have proven your worth. But if not . . .”

”I know, you’ll burn me to a crisp.” Madalena interrupted, finally aware of the leverage she and Charlie held. The Hounds seemed to disapprove of her belligerence, murmuring to themselves, some moving in closer, but the General halted their advance.

“That’s quite enough for today.” The General stepped forward, pacing around Charlie and Maddi a few times before gesturing to the exit. “You are free to leave, and as you know, we’ll be in touch.”

“Yessir, anything you say.” Charlie replied, sarcastically giving a mock salute. Another tap of her foot, restabilizing the ground where they stood. “After you, Maddi.”

The pair moved quickly from the flower store, heading back in the direction of Shadow of the Moon.

”That was . . . exhilarating!” Madalena exclaimed as they walked, unsure if that was the best reaction to their current predicament. The information provided by Puck was legitimate, meaning both Madalena and Charlie were now even more entangled with the Hounds of Humanity than before. Still, Maddi wished to revel in her small victories.

”We actually got away with that, can you believe it? Did you see the look on their faces when you sassed the General?”

Charlie blushed considerably, moving the mask away from her mouth. “Terrifying, but I guess yeah a little shot of adrenaline without the gunfire. I really have no filter when I puff up my chest.” She replied sheepishly. “I’ll be taking some extra precautions to lose any assholes wanting to follow me home.”

Rubbing her thumb across her staff she commented, “The General seems to be of a prideful sort, upset at my very presence reminding him he failed in some way. I’m surprised he showed himself at all, even though we didn’t see his face.”

”And THAT is exactly how we’re gonna put that bastard six feet under. Hubris is an ugly color on pretty much everyone. The Witchfinder won’t be coasting on waxy wings for much longer.”

Returning to Shadow of the Moon, Madalena bid farewell to Charlie for the day, exchanging numbers to keep in touch and work out their plans for the next time the General knocked on their door. A strange business card also found its way into Charlie’s pocket upon departure, bearing a strange insignia and instructions for entering the demon tavern, The Red Devil.

[fdeviant]

Cast

Witching Hour

Part IV

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada, The Witches Stronghold
Time: 3 a.m., Day after LHU Attack

---

”Black spirits and white, red spirits and grey,

Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.

Round, around, around, about, about,

All ill come running in, all good keep out.

Here's the blood of a bat.

Put in that, oh, put in that.

Here's libbard's bane.

Put in again.

The juice of toad, the oil of adder.

Those will make the younker madder.

Put in; there's all, and rid the stench.

Nay, here's three ounces of the red-hair'd wench.

Round, around, around, about, about,

All ill come running in, all good keep out.”

The Witching Hour heralds the arrival of malediction. Within the hour, when God’s light is driven from faithful hearts, stolen unto waiting arms by night’s black agents, and Heaven’s fire becomes the cunning flame, is when she, the Queen of Night, is at her peak.

And she is not alone.

And the mad dance begins.

The wheel turns sunwise, thrice about, invoking the ills of this world that lie dormant on the fringe of society, between the civilized and the unknown. Here the Great Sabbath yearns for attendees, feeds their fire and consumes their flame all at once, all at the command of the Witch-Mother, leader of this ungodly procession. At every corner the Guardians stand ready like points on a compass: The hare, the raven, the serpent, and the toad.

Gathered at the hour and place of their choosing are the most powerful of the Four remaining families of old, whose hold over Las Vegas and the state have begun to wane. The Four heads come together; Syrena Rowan, Aaron Wright, Cassandra Loyal, and Genevieve Lachance. In their shadow are four accompanying witches from their respective lines. Hekate, their queen, towers above them in full sorcerous glory, assuming her truest form. Beneath her, Medea, witch of Corinth, gathers the gifts brought forth by the Four Families, placing them delicately into the vessel, each adding to the potency of their charm.

Three seats remain, each filled by an effigy, a totem to draw power from the name etched onto its person. The first to Roman, who attends only in spirit, the force of his memory enough to conjure the Adessi flame. The second to Aradia, whose grieving presence is felt and whose willing aid is given. And the Third to the Witch-Father, known to most as Bucca, and to the Wright line as Baphomet or Qayin, whose wildness dances in the heart of every witch.

Thirteen is tradition. Thirteen gather to work a spell, to plot the end of a common enemy, to protect their own.

”Sing my beautiful children!” the Witch-Mother laughs, her wild dance encompassing all within her sanctuary, their ecstatic screams a baleful symphony.

”Sing your love and sing your hate! Sing your desires and let them fall upon you. We unravel the threads of fate to grant a wish. Let us weave a wicked web, my loves, one the impudent Hounds will dread to penetrate. Come, more gifts for our vessel, more thread for the knot, more fire for our spell!”

“Three hairs from my head and one for each son,”

“The ring from whence our line hath begun,”

“A promise issued by infernal father,”

“A branch from tree that gave me bother,”

“Piece and piece and piece and part, all ill come in, all good depart!”

The Four witches and their partners sang their part, each adding their own piece to the spell, coming together in unison for the final chant.

”Danger turn with haste by charm, from you to those who mean you harm. The spell is done!” Hekate concluded with a booming voice, the pool at the center of her temple, the acting vessel of their spell, spilling forth a pillar of black smog, lead by Medea into the Four heads, filling their nostrils and dissolving into their core. This act would not be without consequence, for all in attendance, save Medea and Hekate, would be exhausted for days to come. But they would be safe.

”Away, my children,” Hekate commanded her flock with the sterness of a mother, ”you need your rest. I will deliver proper instruction to each of you when the time has come. Now, away!”

Into shadows the witches fade, all but Medea and Hekate, who take to a bench opposite the scrying pool.

”Well done!” Medea congratulated her mistress, voice brimming with admiration. ”Tonight has seen the beginning to the end. As your plan unfolds, those disgusting Hounds will fall, and The Winter Court with them.”

Hekate smiled, pulling Medea in for a long embrace.

”Thank you, my dear, but I cannot assume full responsability for the task ahead. The glory shall go to us all!”

Medea’s eyes were bright with joyful tears and wide with venerate bliss.

”How humble of my lady to share her success! Tell me, what shall be my role in it? I am eager to know.”

Hekate let out a jovial laugh.

”Eager indeed. Well, let me tell you then. During his brief attendence at tonight’s revelry, my husband made me aware of a similar plot by his dearest brother, Robin Goodfellow. A fledgling witch he has taken in and gifted with the cunning flame, sending her in his stead to worm her way into the Hound’s ranks. I would ask that you guide her way, from near or far, and ensure her success.”

Medea’s expression turned sour, moving away from Hekate, brows furrowed in rage.

”Y-y-you would have me play the role of idle wife? I am to turn my gifts to the aid of another’s success rather than my own, as it was with that bastard Jason? No, you cannot ask this of me!”

Medea stood furiously, pacing the room with heavy steps.

”No, I’ll not play such a passive role, not again! Why, my lady? Why ask this of me?”

Hekate chased after Medea, placing a gentle hand on her chin.

”Fear not, my love.” she spoke in a matronly tone. ”This story shall not end as that one. This is your story, our story, not Jason’s, not the novice, ours. You will find glory in her success, and your feats shall be recognized thusly.”

”I . . . I suppose you’re right.” Medea conceded. ”Apologies, my lady. I meant no disrespect.”

Hekate embraced Medea once again, stroking her head and running her fingers through Medea’s auburn hair.

”There now. No reason for apologies, but we mustn’t delay any further. Each momentthe Hounds yet draw breath is a moment we must sieze. Away, Medea. Find the young witch in Goodfellow’s company, the door shall be open to you.”

Medea nodded, fading into a shadowy wisp, then into nothing.

”And when one door opens, another closes . . . or is it the other way around?” A mysterious voice echoed through the sanctuary. A woman’s voice, low and melodic, and entirely familiar.

Hekate stood erect, eyes wide with anticipation. She turned to face the voice’s origin with a wide grin.

”The Gods have truly blessed me this year if I know that voice by ear.”

The woman laughed.

”A blessing you may soon find a curse,” she joked. ”But for now, a blessing all the same. We have much to discuss, My Lady.”

The stranger stepped forward, bathed in sunlight absent the sun. Her skin was an ivory dream, crimson robes of finest silk shimmering on her delicate frame, golden curls weaving around rich jewels and bands befitting a queen.

Hekate was momentarily blinded, not by her companion’s divine glow, but by a flash of nostalgia.

”Indeed we do. But first, welcome home . . . Circe.”

[Afro Samurai]

Volume 1

Issue 7

Afternoon, Present Day

---

Around the circular table the purveyors of the Amim family sat. At the head, the matriarch: Bibi, on the sides: Rahna to the right, Shati to the left; and the focus of the three women’s ire, intrigue, and worry sat with eyes dug into him at the opposite end of Bibi: Pantheon. Clad in the same abyss black he had been wearing since his transformation during the LHU attack, Pantheon beheld a look of worry of his own. Silence would have coiled the room if it were not for the crackle of skillet which cooked the half-scrambled eggs. A mightier flame singed through Bibi Amim’s pensive gaze as her eyes lay on the behemoth who sat across from her, this thing which purported to be her son.

Bibi unlocked her sealed lips in order to speak. Her attempt was thwarted by her eldest daughter, Rahna, who was unsure of how to begin but would save herself, her younger brother, and her baby cousin from her mother’s incessant questioning any way she could,

“Uh, so! Well, let’s, let’s get down to it!” Rahna shuffled uncomfortably, like the other women of the family, her ebony hair bellowed down a thin back, it swung about as she went to readjust herself in the chair, “I guess I should keep this short and simple… uh, this here” she pointed to Pantheon, “is Pantheon, as I’m sure you know, ma. How do I say this, uh--well, he’s, it. . . no. he’s, he’s us.”

Whether from disbelief or indignation, Bibi rose from her chair and over to the stove where she killed the stove burners and grabbed the inferior pan and secured a plastic plate--though these were her children, none of them were deserving of her fine china this afternoon--and dumped the partially scrambled eggs onto the plate, the other portion of the eggs was beginning to form an omelette. Bibi carried the eggs to the table and set them down before sliding them across the table toward the behemoth in black. Pantheon glared down at the strangely cooked food before him: Hassan’s inclination was to eat them, human garbage can that he was--Pantheon would not touch such mortal garbage.

“Eat.” Bibi said, she was hospitable no matter what kind of mystical being entered her house, they would eat and they would like it.

“Ma, not now,” Rahna could sense the irritant her mother was about to be. Few channeled their passive aggressive feelings through food like Bibi Amim. Rahna continued,

“You remember how grandma used to tell those stories about the man who would come snatch us at night if we were bad? How he knew where we sleeped, what we thought? She was kind of right. Uh, that’s kind of what Pantheon is. Everything our family has ever achieved, he’s that… stuffed into one big muscled man who shares the same mind as your son.”

Bibi cackled, comically.

Shati paid little attention, she was much like Hassan in her apathy for gods and monsters, though she now could not deny them as previous. Her golden-brown eyes danced the length of the table to the man who had supposedly usurped her cousin’s place--yes, she would definitely use him in dealing with a few problems of her own in the future. A sly smile bloomed across her maturing face, she went back to scrolling on her cellphone.

Bibi stopped cackling, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Rahna was becoming irritated. It was apparent to her she was the only one who understood the gravity of their situation, beneath the table she began tapping her foot against the wood floor,

“This is not something to be LAUGHING ABOUT!” it took nothing for Rahna’s temper to flare, it was instilled in all of the Amim’s in various degrees. Bibi furrowed a brow, a stern deflection of Rahna’s outburst. Bibi spurned back,

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO? I WILL--”
“OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!” Shati screamed,
“YOU ALWAYS THINK EVERYTHING IS A JO--” Rahna was cut off at the horn of Pantheon’s voice,

“QUIET!” the lights flickered in the room, silence reborn. Pantheon scanned his rainbow colored eyes across the table, his eyes finally settled on Bibi. Hassan had kept Pantheon silent up until this point, but had receded when the shouting began, leaving all too much room for Pantheon himself to assume control,

”Rahna is right. Once again, your lineage is in danger. What she is not telling you is that it is because of Rahna herself. I am sure, miss Amim, you know about the massacre at your university by these ‘Hounds of Humanity’; this is not the first nor the last of their activity. They are soon to hunt you and your children because of the nature of our bloodline. But these Hounds are secondary. The matter of my existence is simple: I am here to protect you and your progeny from extermination, but my appearance in any given generation of this lineage means that another threat is soon to return. A sorcerer, old as myself.”

A knock on the door and the screeching of tires. Hassan sensed something was wrong in his soul. He’d it wasn’t who he thought--he hoped it wasn’t the Hounds.

[Dedonus]

Olympus

On the outskirts of the city of the Olympian gods, there was a paradise garden, filled with all manners of vegetation and animals. A small lake dominated the center of this garden. Its waters were clear as colorless glass, which allowed anyone standing on the shore or reading in a boat to see the underwater wildlife swimming underneath the surface. The waters were so clear that someone could have mistaken a picture of this lake as a scene from the Caribbean, assuming the shore was not in the photograph. A goddess with strawberry colored hair floated on the surface of this lake. The fish and waterfowl, the secret animals of Aphrodite, swam around the Goddess of Love while she enjoyed the relaxing serenity of the quiet garden.

Once she had her spent enough time in the lake, the daughter of Zeus proceeded back the shore. The Charities, the three attendants of the love goddess, were waiting on the bank for their mistress, bearing a wrap of clothing for Aphrodite once she had exited the lake. After they had draped the cloth over the goddess’ wet skin, they ushered her over to a nearby swap where there were four triclinium couches set up, with a single, circular table with a tiled surface.

Before she reclined on her couch, Aphrodite rung out her hair. Once seated, the Charites made sure that their mistress had been taken care of before they too took their positions on the neighboring triclinia. Aglaea, the youngest of the sisters, was the last to take her seat, since she had the task of setting out dozens of polished clay figurines, painted to seem almost lifelike. As Aglaea placed each miniature on the table, the clay figures immediately shuffled around the flat surface, almost as if they were alive. Eventually, the clay miniatures sorted themselves into several clumps, including 3 large piles.

“Now how to fix our little setback?” Aphrodite pondered aloud while picking up one figurine in one hand and taking a sip of the sweet nectar from a cup held in the other hand. This figure, however, was different form the rest, as it depicted a man confined to a medical bed. His eyes were closed shut, almost as if he were asleep, or in a coma.

“How about this mortal?” Euphrosyne suggested after picking a spellcaster from a clump of figurines that included a snake girl, a harpy, a dinosaur man, and two other humans who looked almost normal.

“Her magic could be used healing, but she appears occupied at the moment,” Aphrodite said, gesturing to the second, silver-clad sorceress that was standing next to the harpy, snake girl, and dinosaur man. “Also, there appears to be something off about her.”

“Well, there are plenty of magic users to pick from.” Aglaea suggested, pointing to several figures on the table.

“One of them knows of my husband’s pupil, but she too is occupied in a rather grave situation.” Aphrodite said. The pile where the white-garbed witch stood was surrounded by men aiming miniature guns at the figures in the center. “Moreover, the witch-folk are lovers of striking deals and I, a goddess, would not want to stoop down to their level.”

“How about Athena’s pupil?” Euphrosyne asked, passing over the drider figurine over to Aphrodite, “Her healing factor could prove useful.”

“It would be,” Aphrodite answered, taking the drider miniature into her hand. Each of its eight legs tapped down on the goddess’ palm as it found its balance. “However, Athena would assume I would have some sort of ulterior motive. Anyways, I by no means wish to be indebted to my half-sister. Next.”

“We are on rather cordial terms with the Ennead,” Thalia, the eldest of the Charites, finally mused, picking up a figure with a bird’s head and Egyptian garb from the same pile that the drider had originated from. “Why not seek out Osiris’ chosen?”

“An interesting suggestion,” Aphrodite told Thalia, taking the figurine in her hand, “I find this satisfactory, more so than asking Apollo or Asclepius to do our dirty work.”

Then, a dove landed next to the Goddess of Love. She cupped her sacred bird in her hands and whispered something into its ear. Once her commands had been given, the dove immediately fluttered away. No sooner had the dove departed, Aphrodite’s son, Eros, appeared, hovering beside his mother.

“Do you recall the device the mortal whom my husband is granting his patronage?” Aphrodite asked her son, who immediately nodded.

“And what do you wish me to do with it?”

“Just follow my instructions.” Aphrodite answered her son with a laugh. She then reached over the table and snatched up one more clay figurine, a nagini.

[Rtron]

The Dover Twins

Ben's Current Power set

-2x human Speed
-Mandate's Strength
-Mandate's Durability.

Freya and Ben stared, drawn from their quiet argument by the sounds of metal hitting the ground, at the canisters as they landed for half a second. Then Freya yelled, "Smoke Grenades!" and she and her brother leapt over the meat counter, laying prone to keep themselves covered behind it, as the smoke filled the grocery store and the sounds of gunfire and screaming soon followed. "Who are these people? Freya groaned, reaching for her pistol. Judging from the sounds of the gunshots, it was high caliber rifles. She wasn't properly equipped to deal with this situation in general, much less whoever these assholes were that had decided to assault the store. Ben shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care. They want to kill us, so now we have to kill them. How much punishment can I take with this thing? He tapped one of the orbs in his left palm, the same color as Mandate's skin.

"An insane amount. Unless they have some sort of super powered weapon that hits like a nuke, you should be fine." "Any chance of supers? Freya thought for a moment, mind racing a mile a minute. This she could deal with. Guns and bullets were familiar, where magic and spells were not. "Doubt it, but I can't be sure. To much smoke to pick them out, and if they were any degree of smart the supers would hang back. Can't be a lot of them, if any, though. Too many sneak tactics and guns for that. Ben nodded, tightening and relaxing his fists. "Alright then. Wish me luck. Stay down." He stood up, making ready to hop over the counter, when Freya grabbed his ankle. "Could you grab me one of their guns? This," she shook her pistol, "isn't going to cut it. Ben nodded, winking at her as he hopped over the counter.

It was smoke and chaos. Shapes were running to and fro, the screaming civilians, and he couldn't see anything through the smoke. Well, I guess I'll start walking till I hit someone with a gun. Ben headed into the smoke, pushing civilians aside as they ran into him. He scanned through the thick smoke, looking for something that would indicate an attacker. He spotted a figure in the smoke, standing still, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. That alone was enough to make Ben certain they were one of the people he was looking for. A gun going off in front of him and bullet hitting his chest confirmed it.

Ben quickly closed the distance, looking down at the man in front of him. As always, he looked the person trying to kill him in the eyes, attempting to understand a bit of why. Normally he saw fear at this point. Maybe some anger, a little bit of surprise, but there was always fear. Fear because the person they had just shot was not only still standing, but was very close to them. He saw none of that in this man's eyes. Only hatred, burning bright and filled with fire. The hatred of a man who has lost everything, and was seeing the cause right in front of him. It caught Ben by surprise. These weren't thugs, or even hired mercenaries. These people had some sort of stake in whatever the hell Freya had dragged him into, and that was a problem. But one to be dealt with later. "You know, smoke won't save you. Werewolves have a really good sense of smell. Even the worst books on the subject cover that."

The man didn't reply to Ben's casual observation, instead backpedaling as he fired two more rounds into the giant's chest. Ben darted a hand forward and yanked the gun free, throwing it behind him. In another instant, he was behind the man, cutting off any retreat. Ben's fist darted out, to fast to be blocked by a normal human, aimed squarely for his opponent's nose. Two unexpected things happened, at almost the exact same time. Ben's fist made contact with the man's face, and then went through his face in a splattering of gore. Less than a second afterwards, Ben was thrown backwards by this massive force, going through the store and through its concrete front wall in seconds. "HOLY SHIT!!

From the meat counter, he heard his sister shout out, "Language!"

Instinctively, Ben kicked his feet down, desperate to get any form of purchase and to stop his uncontrolled 'flight'. His feet hit the ground and then dug into it, creating deep furrows as it dragged him to a stop. Ben caught his breath, his heart racing from the surprise, and stared at his bloody hand. "Note to self: Test out strength and blowback limits of this new strength.". Becoming aware of his surroundings again, he looked up at the smell of burning rubber. He was in the middle of the parking lot, two more men with guns staring at him from the front door. Someone had set fire to a car, more than one. It was coming from where they had... "Oh no." He sprinted forward and was at the vehicles in seconds, but it was far to late. The Dov was burning down, and there was nothing anyone could do to save it.

Ben felt his fists clenching, distantly. He felt disconnected, staring at the burning wreckage. That van had been with them since their new lives had begun. It had been his sister's pride and joy. She had been so proud when she had brought the junker to him, babbling about what deal she had gotten on it and how many uses it had. It was her first foray into making and closing deals. More importantly, it was their's. Their first item they actually owned themselves, their first home without that bastard to run tests on them. Their first safe place they could call their own. It meant so much to her. And they had burned it. Like it was nothing.. Just like he would have.

Ben looked over at the two front door guards. They were lifting their guns, speaking quickly into their mics. Presumably to alert their commanding officer of the situation, and to get back up. Not that it would matter. They'd be dead very soon. He was over there in a heartbeat, crouching down and uppercutting one of the door guards. Like before, the man's jaw and face disintegrated into a shower of gore. However, this time the blowback went straight down, and Ben caught it on his knees and only sank into the ground, cracking the asphalt all around him.

He grabbed the other guard by the arm as the man tried to retreat, taking the gun with his free hand, and threw the man into store. Unlike Ben he didn't have super durability. He smashed against the thick concrete and fell down in pile of broken bones and blood. Ben sighed, hefting the gun as he quickly searched the bodies for ammunition. He'd have to tell Freya about the Dov. It'd break her heart to hear what had been done to it. Later. He promised himself, hopping through the hole he had made on his way out of the store. When we're not in a life or death fight.

[HenryJonesJr]

It had been over a year since their escape from the lab, and yet it felt like just yesterday for Mozart. The chaos of the outside world made every day feel like minutes, and every week feel like hours. Ever since their escape, it’s been one revelation after another. They were still on the run from the IDRG, and the ever expanding shadow of the Church of the Eye creeped over San Maria more every day. The city had turned into a nightmare of surveillance and malevolence, and he and his siblings were the only ones standing in the way. The people were scared, and the elected officials did nothing but pretend everything was normal.

But even for a genetically mutated frog, nothing going on in the city was normal.

**********

Then

Art played the night over in his head. Everything from the Bandits to the shadow creatures to the weird woman, nothing made sense. They had been clashing with the Bandits for months, but the gang had never been so brash with moving cargo.

And what was the cargo they were carrying? The crates felt...wrong. Even being near them unnerved Mozart. Even the eye sigil that was emblazoned on top of them made his skin crawl. The black goo inside didn’t help things. It moved like it was alive, and felt malevolent.

“Well that was interesting,” Bach took a seat next to the elder frog. “Shadow goop monsters and a witch. Did we lick toads?”

Clara rolled her eyes, “That was bad, even for you.”

“Something about those things,” Ludwig shuddered, “gave me the willies. Like we were seeing something we weren’t supposed to. Like our minds weren’t supposed to get it.”

Art smiled at his brother. Ludwig often claimed he wasn’t bright, but he could pick up on things most of them never would have. His explanation of what it felt like to look at the gelatinous creature was right on the money. Mozart felt like he was next to something that would have driven him mad to stare at for long.

That meant it was dangerous.

“Get some rest, frogs. We’re gonna go hunting this thing tomorrow night.”

**********

Now

“Drone,” Ludwig nodded to the sky. Above the alley they were hiding in, an IDRG drone drifted silently by, its orange, unblinking eye scanning for the frogs. It looked like a big, hovering butterfly made of silver, with its eye taking up the entire head. The robot’s wing-like appendages didn’t flap. They held the anti-gravity motors that allowed them to float. It was one of the scout models. No weapons, no defensive capabilities. There were dozens of them floating over the city like something out of Orwell’s worst nightmare. IDRG had released them throughout the city to not only look for his family, but also signs of the Eye.

The two entities were clearly at odds with one another, but Art and the frogs had yet to figure out why. The IDRG was an opaque organization as any, and they didn’t know anything about the Eye outside of them being a cult that turned people into horrific shadow monsters.

I guess they didn’t need to know much more than that. But the Eye was almost impossible to track, and they needed more info about the IDRG. That’s why they were going to hack into one of these drones.

“Bach, you ready?” Art said into the commlink. His other brother and his sister were on the roof above, ready to pounce on the first drone they came across. Bach was to be the one to attach the virus delivery system to the drone, right about the eye. Being the most acrobatic of the group, he was the obvious choice. As long as Clara’s virus worked, they’d be able to tap into every scout drone, giving them eyes across the city.

“Ready,” he affirmed. He shifted his weight onto his toes, and sprung off the roof in a leaping backflip. As his head came skimming over the mechanical lookout his hand flashed from his belt, flinging the flash drive towards its target. He watched, almost as if he was in slow motion as the receptacle found its target. Bach let out a silent victory celebration before landing on the next roof over. He whispered into his comm, “We are in!”

“Good work, team,” Art responded with a smile. “Let’s get home and play with our new toys.”

**********

Then

Something was foul in the sewers beneath San Maria. Well, something more than the normal. The Frogs had often used the sewers to get around the city unseen, but lately Art had been looking over his shoulder while they did so. There was a presence down there. Something new. Something malevolent.

It had been weeks since their first encounter with the Church of the All-Seeing Eye. That’s what the sigil was on top of the crates the Bandits had been moving. Angel had found it doing some research at her school. An ancient cult from the era of ancient Egypt, the Church was believed to have been eradicated by the Pharaohs and their chosen warriors. Angel had said there were brief mentions of it elsewhere throughout history, but nothing like their original incarnation.

But if the Frogs’ experiences meant anything, the Church was back and stronger than ever. They had interrupted five more shipments in the past month.

More concerning were the ceremonies they had come across. They were like things out of a horror movie. Innocent victims tied up in the middle of a large eye painted on the floor. Chanting, robed figures swaying rhythmically as the priestess drove her dagger into their sacrifice. There was a panic in the streets. Whispers of the end times and Satan, but the Frogs knew it was something else.

The Church’s teachings didn’t speak of Anubis or Satan or Pagan gods to wipe the Earth clean. Instead they spoke of horrific abominations hiding in the space between universes, ready to devour and corrupt once they were called forth.

That’s what the Eye was doing in San Maria. Art and his siblings didn’t know why it was here, or why it was now, but they had to stop it.

“You guys are getting close,” Angel said from the command center. She volunteered to be the eyes and ears for this mission. More accurately, the Frogs couldn’t say no. She had been invaluable to them until this point, and she was desperate to get involved with their fight. “Epicenter is only a few dozen yards down your current path is the epicenter.”

Strange things had been happening in this part of town. Talks of tar crawling across roads and people disappearing were rampant, adding to the already high tensions in the city. The Frogs figured it was the work of the eye, as the tar sounded familiar to the black substance the Bandits had been running.

As he and his siblings approached their final destination, he felt like he stepped through a membrane. The air around him became a veil of sickness. A wave of nausea ran through him, and he put his hand on the slimy wall of the sewer to steady himself.

“You felt that too?” Clara winced as the feeling dissipated. “Felt like too many spins on the computer chair.”

“I’m gonna ralph,” Bach stuck his hand over his mouth.

Ludwig shook the feeling from his head, “We’re close.”

After a few more turns through the sewers brought them to their end goal. There, they found a monstrosity unlike any of them had ever seen. A bouquet of oily, tar-like tentacles flopped indescrimentantly around a large antechamber in the sewers. They sounded like rotten, raw sausages slapping against wet brick. The look and sound amplified the slight nausea they all felt.

On top of the writhing tentacles sat a carapace like a lobster. Its slick, shiny, black armor spun around to face them, revealing two white, infected-looking eyes that cried tar. It fell down into the creature’s gaping maw surrounded by mandibles that constantly fed the tar back into its body.

“What are you?” a voice exploded into Art’s mind. It was like a bullhorn filtered through Darth Vader’s respirator. Art felt a presence in his mind, probing for a weakness, before recoiling, “Why can I not enthrall you!?”

“Sorry, you’re not our type,” Bach sneered at the creature.

Art looked over at Clara, who glanced back. This was not what they were expecting to find. They had seen the Eye’s zombie-like foot soldiers, but this was on an entirely different level. This had to be one of their gods.

“You insolent creature,” the creature’s garbled, slobbering bellow reverberated through their heads, “you stare at the pestilence of existence. Y’as Harggo’th, the Devourer stares you in the face and you jest. Now you shall join the bones of trillions before you as you spend eternity satiating my hunger!”

“You wish, freakshow,” Ludwig snarled.

So this is why people had been disappearing. This abomination had literally been eating them to gain its strength. If the Frogs didn’t stop it now, who knows how powerful it would get.

Art pulled his bo staff off his back and prepared for battle. Around him his siblings drew their own weapons, ready for the fray. With a battle cry, the fight was on.

**********

Now

Art shot up in his bed, a cool sweat covering his body. He still dreamed about their encounter with Y’as Harggo’th at times. The otherworldly monster tested them like nothing had before or since. In fact, if Clara hadn’t noticed the Eye priestess inside the tangle of tentacles. Once she was expunged, the creature disintegrated into the tar substance the Bandits were bringing into the city.

It was then that Kemsit, the priestess, told them all they knew about the Eye’s plan up until this point. The Church wanted to bring their gods into the world in order to make it a utopia for the followers of the Eye. The rest of the world, however, would find the new reality a hellscape. Until the veil of the universe was pierced the planet was relatively safe. The gods were weak when they reached into their world otherwise.

Still, the Frogs had no idea where the Church was based, and how to stop more monstrosities from appearing in their city.

“Art, get in here,” Clara called from the main room of their lair. He hopped out of bed and headed there, passing through the former bomb shelter’s cramped hallways. They were lucky to have found this place. It was off the map, only designed to protect an old railway magnate from a Japanese attack during World War II. The wiring and furniture was old, but Clara and Ludwig had updated everything into modernity. It was their home now, and they had made it their own.

When he made it to the great room, he had found their friend Angel had joined them.

“Hey, Art!” she smiled at him as she worked away at a school paper.

He shot a grin back. She had made his family feel normal, and always was there to lighten their spirits. It also helped that she was incredibly intelligent and brave. She was their gateway to the real world, and could go out and get information they never could.

She offered him a plate, "Want some cookies?"

“I could go for that,” Art nodded. “Need some help?”

“I’m already helping!” Bach protested as he flipped the book he had been reading upside down to the proper orientation. He mock stroked his chin, "Very interesting."

“We can all help,” Ludwig rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m helping the mo-”

Bach was cut off by an alert on their computer. Clara headed over and pulled up the video, “It’s from the drones. We’re already getting information back!”

The video wasn’t something to celebrate, though. In it, a young child following his mother stops dead in his tracks as they walk alone down a city street. The boy turns to face an alleyway. A figure steps forward and beckons the boy towards him. As it does, the collected group gasps.

“Is that?” Angel asks, agape.

“It can’t be,” Clara adds.

“No way,” Ludwig grunts.

“It is,” Art shakes his head. “It’s Santa Claus.”

“But it's June,” Bach was perplexed.

"June and when's the last time Santa abducted kids?" Angela asked.

"Looks like we have some investigating to do," Mozart said to his siblings. "Get some rest. Tomorrow night we hunt for Santa Claus."

[DearTrickster]

I won’t soothe your pain, I won’t ease your strain

---

Time: Evening - Present Day
Location: Smithy’s Grocery Store, Las Vegas

The Ambassador was back with Mandate and shuddered with a start at the first gun shots, the smoke easily obscuring her vision, the snarls and screeches of rage from the Fey drifted through. It was as expected, she pushed herself close to Mandate avoiding the civilians who could move to flee for their lives. While others took shots to their legs were rendered unable to move, moaning for mercy. Bullets pinged loudly off of Mandate, the golem tossed the wolf in her hand into the smoke. She had a few ideas to deal with the visibility, they had resources all around them. She coughed once, twice the burn of the smoke stinging her eyes. She lifted her hand up to cup her nose and mouth.

“Mandate, if you could please go forward to kill the black armoured people. The fey around us will guide you to them, follow the sound of their voices. I will distract them.” She said, phrasing as she always did, as if it was simply a suggestion instead of an order. “I will ward myself to protect from-”

The sudden explosion of force through a wall interrupted her, she assumed it was one of the giant twins. She rolled her eyes, “Feel free to turn them into gore splatters, strike fear into their very hearts as I will play a part in that myself.”

She nodded stepping away, whispering Words of Power into her palms casting a physical ward over her body, wrapping in layers of three. Sheen of blue light passed over her several times, rapidly encasing her. When the spell was complete, she took a deep breath. Bach shrunk in a burst of autumn leaves settling in his familiar place on her shoulder. In french he whispered in her ear, “All according to plan, my lady.”

Odette allowed a momentary smirk, chaos surrounding them all. She brought the palm of her hand to her mouth whispering the illusionary trick up her sleeve. Like blue particles they drifted away from her hand carrying through the air. As they reached her fey allies, whispers of her orders came on them. The fey’s raging screeches halted. Shortly after a brief pause, distinct tinkling bells could be heard instead. Ethereal, quiet, and distinct even amidst all the noise. Guiding Mandate with sound. Odette cupped her hands whispering further, this time the particles flew following the bells, appearing alongside the terrorists.

_{“Pitiful mortals, your lives will paint our hands with vengeance for the spirit."
“Invalid. Sacrilegious. Disgusting. Tainted. Your souls will find no peace, for there is none to be had."
“Lay down, submit, moan your despair. Time. Horror. Filth. Your progeny will feel this curse for generations to come.”}

Her words carried various points of her message to them, insistent, impossible to ignore. The sound of her voice echoing a throb behind their eyes. The spell cloaked its listeners in a emotional dampener. She blew across her palm, the light of her magic casting her expression in a cold blue. Curling perfectly manicured fingers closed. A genuine smile curled, crinkling her eyes.

[Dedonus]

Aubrey Adkins | Amanda Allen-James

Slipstream dashed into the depths of the Hounds’ base searching for other hostages. As she zipped from room to room, she found that most of the base was relatively empty. The Hounds had appeared to have cleared out, and either there were no more hostages, or the Hounds had taken them with them when they abandoned the base. However, as she entered the last room at the end of the hall, she learned that this was not the case, though she wished that it were. As she entered the room, she was almost overwhelmed by a powerful coppery smell. When she took a moment to look around the room, she discovered what was causing the overpowering odor.

Death.

As Slipstream looked around the room she discovered dozens of bodies in various states of decay. Some looked to have been there for quite some time, while others looked to have been executed within the last several hours. The victims looked to have been executed in the same manner, a single cattle bolt to the middle of the forehead. As Slipstream gazed at the bodies that were strewn around the bloodsoaked room, she suddenly felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Suddenly, without warning she bent over and released the contents of her stomach upon the floor.

She had barely had time to try and regroup from the sudden shock of what she’d discovered when she heard something coming from where she had just left Arachne alone. Several small explosions rang out from the room that they had discovered the hostages, and she felt a sudden pang of anger wash over her.

“Oh no you don’t, you sons of bitches.” Slipstream said as she steeled herself against her urges to vomit again, and raced back toward Arachne and the Hounds.

When Slipstream had returned to the room where she and Arachne had found and freed the metahumans whom the Hounds had captured and, as she just discovered, were designated to be slaughtered, she stumbled upon the counterattack that the Hounds had planned. Arachne appeared to have been dazed, probably by whatever the explosion she had heard that prompted her to rush back to check on the superheroine. There were a handful of Hounds aiming their weapons at Arachne. However, they had yet to realize that Slipstream had entered the room again.

The Hounds squeezed down on the triggers of their guns, launching dozens upon dozens of rounds against the cornered heroine right as Slipstream entered the room. However, Slipstream was shocked as she watched the bullets miracuously whirl past the spidergirl without hurting her. It was almost as if some sort of invisible guardian had redirected the trajectory of the bullets so that they would purposefully miss. The Hounds, of course, were also shocked at the result of their gunfire. They were perplexed at how they could have missed all of their shots at point blank range.

Once they have missed their first opportunity to down Arachne, the Hounds were not going to find another chance. Before they could launch a second barrage of gunfire, Arachne had used her webshooters to grapple the firearms belonging to two of the present Hounds.

“If you aren’t careful, you might hurt someone with these,” Arachne taunted as she proceeded to use her weblines to drag the two Hounds whom she had just disarmed towards herself. She then slammed the two men against the nearby wall and plastered them with some spider silk, rendering them incapacitated and unable to move away from the wall.

Slipstream watched in amazement as the bullets that the Hounds had just fired at Arachne, bullets which should have shredded that arachnid-like heroine’s body veer off course, instead harmlessly hitting the wall instead, with surprisingly little ricocheting. She was dumbfounded by what she had just seen, however, she decided not to question her new friend’s good fortune, at least not at this moment. Instead, she darted toward the Hounds of Humanity thugs that Arachne hadn’t already incapacitated.

As she stepped toward the Hounds, some of whom had resumed firing on the spider-esque woman, everything slowed down to Slipstream, it was almost as if time itself had slowed to a crawl. She rushed toward the first thug, lowering her shoulder and leaning into him just before she she made impact, the force of which sent him flying into the wall across the room. She didn’t stop there, moving onto the next Hound and dropping him with a hard right hand to the face. She repeated her attack on each of the remaining Hounds, leaving them sprawled all across the room before the blink of an eye.

After the final Hound had fallen, Slipstream stopped in front of Arachne. She bent over slightly as she tried to regain her breath.

“Now might be a good time to get out of here.” She said between strained breaths.

“Definitely,” Arachne agreed with Slipstream’s suggestion. “All we need to do is follow my webbing to get out of here.”

Then the spidergirl paused for a moment.

“Although I guess you already know the way out, since you got all the people the Hounds had kidnapped out of here.”

“Yeah, it’s this way. I think...maybe it’s a good idea to follow your webs.” Slipstream thought that she knew the way out, however, the hellish scene that she found deeper inside the base left her unsure of herself.

Therefore, the two heroines dashed out of the Hound’s secret base, following the spider silk that Arachne had left on the hallway floors. Although the two women were cautious about any more ambushes orchestrated by the Hounds, they did not run into any more trouble on their way out. Once they had exited the maze of a base that the Hound’s secret lair was, the two women caught sight of the gas station that was the mask to the base. In the distance, they could hear the police sirens blaring in the night as the police rushed to the gas station.

“Well, I guess this is our time to ditch the scene of the crime.”

“Not a bad idea. The things that they did...they…” her voice drifted off as she replayed the images of the executed metas inside the base. “We’re going to stop them. We have to.” She said as she zipped off back toward Pacific Point, leaving the nightmarish base behind.

Arachne felt a burst of wind rush into her as the speedster dashed away. Then she peered towards the lights on the horizons, which marked where Pacific Point was located. She sighed before making her way through the nighttime darkness.

“Where is Athena when you need her to teleport you back home? She has to be here. How else could you explain those bullets miraculously missing me?”

[Indy Cooper]

_{Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss!}

Nicky groaned for what felt like the millionth time in just a few minutes. Crawford's 'talk' had been a bunch of bullshit meant to make her feel better, and maybe there was some stuff to think about, but Nicole MacNamara had never really been one to think too hard about much. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at the popcorn ceiling of the office from her position lying stretched out on a third- or fourth-hand couch that had been dragged in for her. The material was probably scratchy and old, but she couldn't really tell. She had told the doctor that, but except for various stabs and pokes, they hadn't really been able to figure out why she couldn't feel anything. What they had figured out was that most of her senses were fine, but touch and taste were both all but gone. Doctor Grisham had been especially confused about her sense of taste, since her nose worked perfectly fine. All Nicky knew it meant was yet another thing that she wouldn't be able to enjoy ever again.

She reached out one pale, lanky arm and snagged a pencil from the pile they had left her, next to a spiral notebook and a sketch pad. Ostensibly, these were to help alleviate boredom, and possibly let her write her feelings down, but she hated that sort of thing, so she was mildly amusing herself with trying to stick the pencils into the ceiling. She got three before the first one fell from the impacts. She flinched before she knew what she was doing, and then cursed at herself. If bullets and knives couldn't hurt her, a pencil didn't stand a chance. At least my reflexes aren't gone, I guess.

The loss of time was bugging her the most. She couldn't concentrate on how long anything took, and her brain just kinda made up whatever it thought seemed reasonable, but reasonable to it and reasonable to her were apparently very different. The blurring of her vision was also troubling. Grisham had no idea, but Crawford had gotten that little light in his eyes that said his theory was piling up. Nicky had already learned to hate that look. It told her that apparently she was too stupid to share with, despite the fact it was her all of this was happening to.

She tossed her arm over her face, putting the bridge of her nose into the crook of her elbow and cutting off all light to her eyes. Immediately, her mind flashed to the scene in the police interview room where she had met Crawford the first time. The detective or whatever had said she had blurred, and her vision had gotten worse. And then the handcuffs were destroyed when she had yanked on them, becoming nothing but twisted lengths of steel. They had had to call someone in to cut them off of her. It looked almost like...Wait, what?

The teen practically threw herself off of the couch, bolting through the door of the unused office that had been declared her territory, and out into the dim hall. She had been permission to wander around on this floor, but she felt her rebelliousness kick in and snuck around like a thief anyway. She probably looked like a complete dork, but she didn't care. She had to get back to the hospital area, two hallways over and a floor down, which meant the stairwell, since the elevators were apparently 'disabled for security reasons'.

Once there, she swung the door open quietly and slipped inside. It took a few minutes for her to locate the weights she had used earlier. They seemed like the sturdiest and least expensive thing in the place, so she grabbed one. Taking one side in each hand, she held it up and tried to focus on the blurring. Then she tried her damnedest to pull the weight in twain. Her fingers didn't hurt, and the effort, though she was putting everything she had into it, didn't so much as make her sweat. She had no idea how long it was before she heard a giggle from the other side of the room.

Perched on a bench, leaning back with one leg dangling, was another young woman. She wore stylishly worn down jeans and a black baseball tee with some sort of white design on the front, though she was at the wrong angle for Nicky to see it clearly. Her blonde hair was a curtain of curls and waves hanging behind her, and her head was lazily tilted to one side so she could watch Nicky from across the room. Nicky knew she hadn't been there when she had come in, and had never heard the girl come in, though she would be the first to admit she was not the most observant of people.

She spoke with a sweet, lilting tone, in an accent Nicky didn't know. “So, you're going to waste your whole night sitting there to try and make it work, when you don't even know what it is? You're a dork.”

Nicky growled, and threw the weight at the girl. It wouldn't, shouldn't cross the whole room, but it somehow accelerated in midair and flew into the intruder's hand, snapping to a halt without even jolting the girl's arm even though it had moved at nearly twenty miles an hour. The girl sat up and grinned, her features best described as “fox-like.” Her eyes were narrow, always half closed, and she had a condescending grin, as if she was smiling at a joke only she was in on. She opened her hand, and the weight flew back at Nicky, who tried to catch it out of reflex and was dragged out of her seat and through the rack of weights, which collapsed on top of her. The noise was deafening, and when it stopped, she could hear the girl tittering.

“Oh, you are a treat! My name is Rose. You must be Nicole. I heard we had a new resident and had to come make introductions.” She strode across the room, long legs flicking out in an odd gait as Nicky extricated herself and spat.

”The fuck are you?”

“Language! There are children in this hospital! But to answer your question, I am a telekinetic. Move stuff around with my mind, you know? Fairly good at it, too.”

Nicky stared for a moment before shaking her head. ”So you move shit with your mind? Fucking lucky bitch.”

Rose took a step back. “Whoa, hey, it's not all sunshine and skittles, kitten!”

”Oh yeah?” Nicky snarled, “Can you still fucking taste food or feel wind in your hair?” She took a step forward, fists flexing at her sides. ”Did your entire family die when you got your fancy ass useful powers? Huh?”

And then suddenly Nicky was flying through the air. The only indication she had even had Rose was going to do something was a sudden narrowing of the girl's eyes. She was slammed into the wall with enough force to knock over a nearby bookshelf and dent the plaster. Rose stalked forward until she was nose to nose with the girl.

“Listen here, you stupid little girl. Everyone here tries really fucking hard to figure out how powers work, where they come from, why some people get stuff like mine and others get stuff like yours. If your life is so shitty, then maybe try and improve it instead of wallowing in fucking self-pitying piss poor attitude and actually try and help! I don't even know what the hell your problem is, but you have a miraculous ability or you wouldn't be here!”

Nicky tried to open her mouth to scream at the woman, but her jaw wouldn't open.

“No! You shut up for once! I get that you're angry at the world, okay? Life sucks! But no one here is responsible for whatever happened to you! Stop taking out your anger on everyone else! I've been listening to your stupid bullshit all day! Your family died and you lost your senses, and that sucks and I am sorry. But try cooperating and fixing it instead of just lashing out.”

They stared at one another for several moments. Rose finally sighed, let Nicky go, and walked back across the room. “We have group sessions tomorrow. Maybe it'll help you, maybe it won't. But I suggest coming. You never know.”

And with that, the girl stepped through the wall like a ghost, leaving Nicky standing, dumbfounded, to clean up the mess their tussle had made.

[VATROU]

And

Hound Dog

In

Bossa Nova Baddies

With a quiet zap, Hound Dog flew between power lines a action that despite the media would have you believe from comics and movies isn’t as simple as walking over the live wires connecting pole to pole as doing so would potentially break the cable and endanger civilians. No, oh so carefully Hound Dog had to hover just above to prevent his full weight from bearing down on the cable as he frantically searched the city for any signs of Hound activity using his ears and eyes to scan the electrical impulses that each living being produced.

As Hound Dog zipped by overhead, a guard sitting at the gate outside of Rabbit Motors started to nod off, sliding down in his chair as he adjusted his cap a little lower on his forehead. Before he could catch some well-earned sleep, however, a motor echoed through the relatively empty street. Looking around suspiciously, he spotted a van turn around the corner and trundle its way toward the gate. Recognizing the Silver River Institute logo on the side, he checked his hidden sidearm just to be safe and walked out to stop the van as it turned again and stopped outside the gate.

“Uh, good morning!” came the muffled sound of a girl’s voice from the cab. Raising an eyebrow, he crouched down and peered inside at the driver, a girl with some sort of surgical mask over her face.

“What’s with the mask?”

“Flu season,” the girl said apologetically, lifting her hands off the wheel to give an apologetic shrug. Her fingers were shaking, the guard noticed suspiciously.

“Didn’t know the Institute was sending anything over, let alone with only one of you,” the guard suggested. “What’s your business?”

“Oh, uh, it’s pretty important, top secret stuff,” she said quickly. “Boss’ eyes only.” The guard’s eyes narrowed. Only one student driving, and for something supposedly this important?

“Wait here,” he demanded, taking a couple steps back and turning on his communicator. “Captain, we have a Silver River truck here, were we expecting anyone today?”

“Running it by logistics now, but as far as I know we got everything the other day. Need me to send anyone out there?”

“No sir, I think I can handle one gi-urk!”

The radio fell out of the guard’s hand with a clatter as something hard clamped down on his neck.

“Arigato, iyana yatsu …”

Before the guard could react, the robotic ninja threw the guard over the wall where landed on a patrolling guard with a loud thud. The girl in the truck stared blankly at the robot, her fingers turning white from her grip on the steering wheel.

“Wh-why did you do that!?!?” she asked incredulously.

“I did not kill, as Voyager-san requested,” Typhoon replied elegantly.

“But you blew our goddamned cover!!!” Suddenly there was a loud slam and the girl found herself shoved aside of the driver’s seat by a large four-armed tarantula woman with a manic look in her eyes.

“Then we do this the fun way!” she declared, slamming down both feet on the accelerator.

“FANGS, WHAT THE FUUUUU-”

Taking a moment to grab his bearings, Hound Dog checked his phone checking off areas he had already visited when smashing of metal could be heard not too far off, “Finally. Something.” He said as the cold air had been nipping at him for hours; hoping that this was the hounds at the least he rushed on over vaulting himself over the buildings while controlling his descent to land gingerly on the pavement. “Huh, a van crashing it’s way through a warehouse, either their package got lost in the mail or this could be hounds.”

There was a bit of stunned surprise as the guards regained their bearings, the van that drove its way through the wall now impacted in the side of the big warehouse building. Just as every gun in the immediate area was drawn and aimed at the offending vehicle, the back of the van burst open in a flash of purple light as Voyager lept from the back area.

“So...you guys don’t like metas like me, right?” Voyager said cheerily. “Well...come and get some!”
“Muties! Kill them!”

Before anyone could open fire, there was an electronic chittering, almost like a playful giggle, immediately preceded by a loud, powerful bass note thundering from the ruins of the van. The guards cried out in alarm, some of them dropping their guns or clutching their heads in shock. This was followed by a loud crunching metal sound as Fangs exited the van by ripping the door off its hinges and hoisting it over her head.

“Whoooo, fight!” she declared, chucking door into a cluster of soldiers nearby. The two she barely missed aimed weapons, but were thrown off as Typhoon vaulted gracefully over the wall, sweeping the legs out from under one man and judo throwing the other in the same movement. Voyager started aiming Psi-Blasts at nearby soldiers just as Monsterk4t slid out on his knees, aiming a sonic blast at some approaching hounds that knocked them off their feet like ragdolls. Another group were similarly dispatched by a blast of light as Fullbright emerged from the van as well, struggling slightly with her helmet as she rushed to join the fight. More goons rushed out from the warehouse to replace their friends, and the entire group quickly charged in to fight Voyager and her villain team, turning what would have been a shootout into a frantic melee.

“These guys are like locusts!” Fullbright shouted, dodging a knife swing and aiming a construct to slam another attacker into the ground.

“They are numerous, yes!” Voyager responded bluntly, recoiling as a couple of Hounds charged at her Psi Barriers, only to be dispatched with a blast followed by a two-handed punch to the goon charging at her rear. “Getting into the building to search for Jordan will be difficult!”

“What I wouldn’t give for a bit of crowd control right now…” Fullbright responded, uppercutting one of the Hounds only to find five more charging right at her, blind hatred fueling their attack.

As the scene unfolded before him it became apparent that metas had initiated the fight with Hounds, and by first glance it was villains, or so he thought as he became dumbfounded as to why Voyager has sprung out from the lot. “Looks like I got a gig to work and it’ll be a blast.” Charging energy in his hands lighting crackled and danced in his palms as he suddenly dashed forward at blinding speeds nearly breaking his body as his swinging arms smashed into the street and sent a wave of lighting bulging outwards smacking into the Hounds and throwing the lot back some were hit with enough force to knock them out others were tased by the field but before his questions could be answered those that escaped unscated rose up.

“Looks like we’re about to rock this shindig, I got questions baby but first let’s cream these Clydes.”

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST SAID!” Fangs shouted in response, wrenching off another door to use as a weapon against the oncoming horde.

“Are you writing a book babe? Let’s blow off some drags before we start talking right.” Hound Dog said with his calm and sure demeanor as lightning crackled and spat out from his fists. “Who’s up first for a beat down!?”

“Um, who is this guy?” Fullbright said, clearing the enemies behind her with a sweep of light construct wings.

“Ooh, it’s the other Hound!” Voyager said excitedly, plowing her way through a band of Hounds grunts to get to the newcomer. “He helped out back when that Genie guy was around! Are you here to help save Jordan too?”

“Hey hey, Cool it, don’t lump me in with those party poopers over there, I am the one and only Hound Dog, it ain’t right they’re dragging good old Elvis through the mud stealing our shtick. And I was supposed to be savin youse of all People Voyager, well, you’re not people but you’re good people if you know what I mean.”

[color=MediumOrchid]“I...think I do,” Voyager pondered. “Why me though, I thought you’d be here for Jordan or something?” A nearby grunt, recognizing the name, sent an urgent message over his radio before his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped like a sack of meat, courtesy of another one of MonsterK4t’s acoustic weapons.

Lifting up his hands with a shrug, “Youse been missing for a while now, and along with Jordan your friend spilled the beans about the whole ordeal. Needless to say you got a lot of people worried you should phone home once in a while, and since I’m obviously out of this loop of yours I’m going to assume Jordan is held by our welcoming guests.”

“As the saying goes, the nail was struck on the head, Ryōken-san.” the robot ninja declared, appearing out of nowhere to catapult another pair of goons into one another. Voyager felt a pang of guilt at the revelation. She had so preoccupied with Jordan’s disappearance that she almost forgot about Mr. Martel. And he had even told the Poseidon people about her, if the Hound Dog man was telling the truth. Still, guilty feelings aside her coming clean with Poseidon was secondary to saving Jordan from the bad Hounds. And a good Hound would be welcome in that task.

Before Voyager could ask for his help, bullets suddenly raked the ground near the two of them, kicking up a barrage of dust. The goons they were fighting were all dressed in common workers clothes, but now they were joined by a band clad in black combat armor, who had taken up position around the fight to pick off the superhumans. Voyager quickly deployed a Psi-Barrier and leapt in between the shooters and Hound Dog as the other villains scattered.

“These goons never learn, using military grade rounds with all that extra metal.” Hound Dog said as he too erected a barrier and deflected bullets as he broke to cover Voyager sending a mass of electricity across the asphalt rolling quickly as shocked two hounds and help clear her right side. “Voyager, if we push to the right we can make it inside and I can barricade the doors to prevent them from following. Some of your, new pals will have to find another way to meet up though.”

“Something tells me she’d be fine smashing her own way in,” Fullbright commented in the direction of the Tarantula girl who, having run out of doors to beat people up with, had resorted to beating up the Hound foot soldiers with other Hound foot soldiers.

“Monsutāneko-san is using one of his devices to meddle with the aim of the soldiers,” the ninja robot said, confirmed by a slew of beeps as Monsterk4t waved what looked like a boombox with the insides on the outside over his head. “I suggest we leave him and the four armed one to fight the men outside while we force our way in!”

“That sounds like a plan to me!” Voyager chirped, blasting aside some more foes that tried to take the place of the ones that Hound Dog cleared out. “Let’s move!” The half-alien led the charge to the office complex, followed closely by Hound Dog with Fullbright bringing up the rear as Typhoon leapt and dashed his way along the sides of the path, the two villains clearing away the Hounds trying to close in, Fullbright bashing them away with a hammer of light and Typhoon aiming paralyzing strikes at exposed necks. Some of the gunners tried to chase after them, only to be knocked into the air by the rampaging Fangs as MonsterK4t started to breakdance his way into the melee. Determination fuelling her, Voyager launched an eyebeam that blasted the lock off the door with an almighty *CHOOM* and knocked it open with a Psi-fueled shoulder bash as a band of soldiers waiting to charge out skidded to a halt.

“Got spunk kid, nice one now let me deal with this front burner of a problem.” Clapping his hands once he pulled them apart as electricity arched between them. “An ambush is only good is no one can see you, and Antsvile is filled to the brim with electricity something that I can charge. I’d suggest running, but good luck on that.” The arch sprang out lashing into the ceiling and floors climbing the walls causing a chain reaction within their current surroundings as bolts flew out from every outlet and light fixture. “And that. Is Science! Invest in some surge protectors will ya, if anyone is still up to care.”

Lifting slabs of metal from various parts of the warehouse he sealed the doors and turned to Voyager. “Right-O, that was Crazy but how’s about youse all fill me in while we head in deeper. Wherever Jordan is I cannot see her yet, and yes. I see through walls.”

“Wish I could see through walls…” Voyager said wistfully, stepping over the unconscious and slightly twitching form of a guard, just as his radio buzzed to life one last time.

-kzzzc- “-won’t do it I’ll pilot the damn thing mysel-” -kzzcz-

[Fallenreaper]

Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas

Time: Evening

---

The werewolf was completely caught off guard by the creature’s strength. The wind forcing her body forward, as if to trap the young woman inside its many threads, only to make the teasing power disappear almost instantly. A frequent torment during this whole interaction made her already short fuse nearly nonexistent. To make matters worse the damn clay monster had thrown her into the fray. The animal felt herself smacking into the ground. She felt the bullets pass her pure black fur. What the girl didn’t feel right away was a bullet hit her shoulder.

The pain fell victim to the numbing sensation. At first. Perhaps it was due to the adrenaline or the high which happened during the throw. Granted this only lasted until the woman’s form moved causing a sharp pain that moved up and down the struck area. Still Yeong continued to move as her instincts took over completely.

Smelling the slight scent of iron in the air, Ji turned quickly to where her sister was and gasped.

“Yeong!” She shouted.

The younger twin rushed over, ignoring the bullets that were going towards them. Grabbing her sister, she pulled her sister down gently. She examined the wound and winced.

”Yeong! Speak to me”

’Goddamn son of a bitch! Why in the hell do they never tell you that after getting hit, the place goes numb? After going numbed, if you move then it will fucking hurt like a bitch!’ The young woman cursed as her lips curled upwards and an inhuman growl worked from her chest.

’I’m perfectly fine sis. My shoulder was hit. Thankfully it’s nothing more than a regular bullet.’

The black wolf glanced around her area, as if searching for something, only to grumble.

’Hunting mode will work best in this scenario. Will you be an awesome sister and help direct us to safety? I’ll help Benjamin herd the humans. I’m going full wolf on these assholes.’

As if summoned on command, a dark massive shape crawled from the surrounding haze. Surprisingly quiet, Benjamin seemed less affected by the chaos erupting all around them. His golden irises focused upon the twins attentively for several seconds. A sense of need for assistance and desire to protect Marie flooded into both wolves, his human packmate unable to read him like the twins could.

‘Help…protect Marie.’ Benjamin pleaded.

After a few moments, his head turned to the nearest sound of gunfire. The men's weapon broke the smoke with a burst of light through smoke clouds as blood-curdling screams followed. Customers, drenched in blood, immediately scattered. Minds were driven by a primal desire to live. Benjamin's fur bristled, his black lips curled into a snarl. A low rumbled vibrated through his throat as his nose located the four scents drawing nearer. Unsure if Yoeng or Ji would help him, Benjamin’s figure once more padded into the smoke where he vanished.

Yeong’s smaller figure slowly walked towards where Benjamin's figure disappeared at. Her snout flicker from side to side as a subtle wind shifted through the darkness? The wolf’s normally pure brown eyes would now have a dim glow of midnight blue, as her fingers flew gracefully towards one of the flanks. The woman's body slowly running around the room as she watched the humans react.

’ Benjamin listen to me, please. We need to work together in order to save the pact. First, you need to work with the wolf. Accept it as yourself but learn not to lose yourself completely to it. You're both the wolf and human. Now please keep this in mind while I explain how this mode works. We need to separate them from each other. When this is done we can attack the straggler. Ji will tell us directions on where they are going. Wait for the straggler. ‘

Benjamin snorted. His head turned back over his shoulder to Yeong, the sharp eyes radiated boredom at her lengthy, one-sided conversation. She used too many words to describe what he already knew. However, his wolf was in complete control. Nothing, lessons or otherwise, would prolong this hunt any longer. Toes gently kneaded the ground where they found purchase, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Anxious spread through his very muscles, causing them to switch in excitement and desire.

‘Too much. Hunt, now.’

Those were the only words that Yeong received before his figure took the right. His figure sank lower to the ground, carefully avoided the shoppers darting away.

Ji bit her lip in worry. What the hell was she going to do with bullets flying at them? One grazed her cheek and she growled, anger and frustration boiling into one emotion.

”You assholes! Don't you know it's rude to shot a lady?!” She said swinging her arm outward.

A wall of hardened dirt burst from the ground knocking the enemy downwards, either by their shock or actually hitting them. At this point, she didn't care.

Well, at least Marie might be safe this way. The enemy would need time to collect their heads after hitting the ground. Using this, she looked around and saw a route leading outside into an alleyway.

”Herd the humans that way Ben, Yeong! I got Marie! “ Ji said.

The men’s feet slipped and slid across the uneven upheaval, their balance lost. Upon falling, they curled to protect themselves. When the last of the tremor ceased, they began to rise back to their feet. Both knew staying down would spell death for them.

Yeong’s paws scraped against the floor as her thoughts fluttered between them all. Honestly, she wasn't used to having puppies around and it had been ages since they had a pack with more than two. So the communication would be a bit tricky. Not adding that this boy seemed separated from the wolf. Something which would cause trouble later on. Her focus was key right now and her worry would have to wait.

The wolf growled as one of the men raised his gun only to harm a bystander. Giving the female a perfect chance to attack as the wind separated the bystander from the scene. The girl’s canines exposed giving the man chills just before chopping into the light fabric of the person’s shirt, claws digging into his chest as the other hand went to shoot, just before getting knock into another enemy. Knocking two towards the back area of the store.

Meanwhile, his recovering partner had just gotten to his feet. He jerked his head to the side when the smaller, black werewolf attacked. In a well-trained movement, his arms snapped up to protect his fellow hound. His eyes took aim before his trigger finger tightened. The gun’s muzzle exploded into a blaze of light. It dimly illuminated the haze, briefly revealing his location. Yeong's fur shifted on the bullet’s impact as a splatter of blood was sent across the floor.

He never got another shot off when a blond blur erupted from the corner of his eyes. White teeth flashed then sank deeply into the forearm, buried into muscle underneath.

Balance lopsided when a larger werewolf jerked him down, he whipped out a blade and slashed at the new threat. It lacerated once, twice and a third time. Blood droplets sprayed from the force stabbed into the wolf’s head. In moments the human's front was stained with red. Suddenly, the werewolf's muzzle released as the creature, miraculously still alive, retreated. More movement caught his vision causing him to turn to face it. Too late.

Benjamin darted back just when Ji smacked her prey and thrown it hard into his. Again they were down. In a panic, the men began to scramble to their feet. Momentarily dazed, their eyes searched for their weapons. Without a second thought, one of Benjamin’s paws rested on the nearest gun. His furred head darted from the heated device to the fallen men as he registered something slowly. Then with a sharp snap, he tossed it at the farthest wall.

Out of reach of their prey.

His figure shot back into the smoke, using it for cover. Frightened beyond words, the men’s fear permeated through the smoke’s thickness. It enhanced Benjamin’s adrenaline coursing through his veins. This experience was something attracting and alien to him as he circled his prey, chasing them to the direction indicated by Ji. His eyes darted to Yeong, indicating they needed to run them out of ammo before the finale.

He let his shape show in the dark store occasionally causing one to pull a secondary pistol and fire. The bullets whizzed by the younger wolf then buried into various things. Bags popped from the impact force, spilling their contents all over the floor.

Around and around the wolves circled the men, their shapes revealed then vanished when shots were fired. Like wraiths, they seemed to surround their prey. Every movement silenced and appeared practiced as they never crossed each other’s path. A sixth sense located the other, mysteriously coordinating them. Dwindling their prey’s ammo reserves until the last click came up empty.

At this signal, Benjamin burst from his cover. Startled, the Hounds bolted away for the nearest exit. One was too slow. He found Benjamin’s teeth latched onto his heel. Benjamin's teeth sank deep, intended to break the tendon and cripple it. The man screamed as the werewolf tore his leg.

In the back of his head, he could hear the memory of his alpha urging him on. The offering of human meat vivid in his head as it subconsciously mixed with the desire to protect Marie. Distracted by this conflict within himself, Benjamin ignored everything aside from killing this human.

Yeong thumped him hard on the side, her throat let out a warning growl. Distracted by her actions, the human slipped out of his grip and hobbled away. Upon reaching his partner, a wind shifted causing a large display case abruptly to crash down on them.

Satisfied they wouldn’t come after Marie, Benjamin followed Yeong back into what little smoke remained.

[Dedonus]

December 25th, 10 years ago

“Wake up, Chris! Wake up!” An elementary school aged Veronica burst into Chris’ bedroom and jumped onto his bed. When Chris simply rolled over, she began to bounce on his mattress, making it impossible for him to rest in peace.

“What time is it?” Chris groggily muttered as he reached for his alarm clock, which said that it was only five in the morning on Christmas Day.

“It’s time to open presents!”

“But what if Santa hasn’t come yet?” Chris tried to make an excuse to head back to bed. However, it did not seem to work on his half-sister.

“George told me that he already came,” the girl told her brother as she began to tug on Chris’ arm.

Chris sighed as he tossed his sheets aside so that he could get out of bed. Since Chris was home for the holidays from his forth year in his PhD program, he thought that he would at least get some sleep. But he was obviously mistaken. He then slipped into his slippers and tossed on his robe before he followed Veronica out of his room.

The staircase had garland wrapped around the banisters and the lights that went with it illuminated the way. At the bottom of the staircase was a giant, 14-foot Christmas tree, decked out with a variety of ornaments, tinsel, and lights. Underneath the evergreen, there was a giant stack of presents, all wrapped in the same gift paper. George was also waiting for Chris and Veronica at the foot of the staircase.

Veronica practically flew down the stairs towards the presents that Santa had brought her. She even slid across the floor, stopping right in front of the Christmas presents. While she started to shake her presents so as to decide which to open first, Chris took his time making his way to the tree. Once there, he pulled up a chair while he and George watched Veronica shred through the wrapping paper that covered her presents.

Chris remembered when he used to believe in Santa Claus. He too would wait anxiously all night for the jolly old man to bring his presents on Christmas Day. Even on multiple Christmases in the past, Chris had woken up at the crack of dawn because he was extremely excited to see what old Kris Kringle had brought him. He knew the excitement of ripping off the Christmas wrapping paper and seeing what it had hidden. But that time had long past. He had not believed in that little white lie since he was Veronica’s age. Nevertheless, he was just happy to see that his sister was enjoying this Christmas day.

However, once his half-sister had torn through all of her presents form Santa, a frown appeared on the girl’s face.

“We still have the family present,” Chris tried to console his younger half-sister.

“But Santa didn’t bring them,” Veronica began to cry.

“Santa didn’t bring what?” For a moment, Chris was puzzled, since he thought he had gotten everything on Veronica’s Christmas list that was feasible for him to buy.

“Santa didn’t bring mom and dad back.”

His little sister’s comment pierced Chris’ heart. This was the first Christmas that they had celebrated since their parents had been murdered by Chris’ deranged mother, who had become his father’s ex after he had divorced her for the woman who would become Veronica’s mom. Although Chris had issues with his father for how he handled the divorce, that did not mean he did not love his father.

“Are the other kids right? Is there no Santa Claus?”

“What? Of course there is a Santa Claus!”

“Then why didn’t he bring mom and dad back?”

“Do you remember Miracle on 34th Street?” Chris asked his half-sister, who nodded. “If Santa doesn’t bring something on your Christmas list, he usually has a good reason. When I was a kid, I asked for Uranium one Christmas. But he didn’t bring it as a gift because any responsible adult would know not to hand a radioactive element to a child.”

“But I miss them so much!” Veronica began to bawl as he hopped up from her spot on the floor next to her Christmas presents and wrapped her arms around Chris.

“I do, too.”

[Mercinus3]

Location: Kayla & Mia’s apartment, French Quarter, Lost Haven
Time: Christmas Day, months in the future

The snow had settled on the grounds of Maine for the few weeks since it had started the usual, yearly cycle. There was snow still coming from the Canadian/New Hampshire border, the frozen crystals of ice tumbled down from the grey sky above. Lost Haven didn’t escape the wake of the weather, though the people were used to the weather and had been going about their day as normal. On this day, the streets were deathly silent. However, unlike the events that occurred in the months beforehand, this was a day of celebration.

In the French Quarter, Kayla was busy with all the cooking for the people that were coming for the holidays. Her mother, Koko Mason, was in the room, enjoying the movies that are played at this time of year, a glass of white wine in her hand. Mia’s family were here as well, having small talk with Koko to pass the time. While she wasn’t here, Mia was on her way home. As if by a miracle, Mark had recovered from the bus explosion that happened in the summer of that year. Much that was feared came true as he woke from his coma; while his memories were still intact, the damage done meant that he lost the ability to walk ever again. Still, it brought a small smile to the off-duty vigilante that her childhood friend did not lose a loved one. The thoughts returned to the one person that she lost, the smile fading away into memory as sadness creeped in.

The latch of the apartment door clicked as it swung open. The room erupted in greetings and happiness as the couple walked through, Mia pushing Mark’s wheelchair. The smile came back to Kayla’s face, pushing aside the sadness that crept in. After a year that occurred, between the constant worry of losing Mark and travelling a lot for her job, the usually bright-eyed Mia was back. That was something that would never leave Kayla’s mind. It was then that the celebrations for Christmas would start. Kayla brought out the meal as everything sat down, pulling the crackers and poured the drinks out. Christmas music played on as happy conversations filled the room.

--------

Hours later, everyone was gathered around the television, their bellies filled to the brim and alcohol seeping into everyone’s system. Kayla was sitting between her mother and Mark, his wheelchair bridging the gap between her and Mia. Mia excused herself as she went off to the bathroom. Now is my opportunity, Kayla thought, thinking back to the one key memory of that terrible night. She turned to Mark, careful not to draw too much attention to both of them, ”I know that this is a bad time to bring this up, but I know what you were going back to the bus for.”
Mark turned around, a surprised look etched on his face, “It was that obvious?” he whispered back. The surprised look was then replaced with a bit of sadness. “If only I didn’t lose the ring, then none of this would have happened. Now I have lost that one thing to show Mia my feelings.”
”No one was to know that something like that was to happen. Besides…” Kayla reached into her pocket and discreetly placed the charred box on his lap ”It’s never too late to show her, especially with this.”

Marks eyes looked at the box, widening upon realizing what it was. Before he could respond to her, Mia entered the room. He placed the box down the side of his wheelchair before she could see what it was. Everyone carried on watching the television as Kayla got up to get everyone a mug of hot cocoa when Mark spoke up. “I would like to say something.” All eyes turned to him, Kayla watching the scene unfold from behind the kitchen island. “This year had been rough. It has thrown everyone challenges and almost altered a few. Mine was almost gone and made me realize how precious our lives could be. I could not be more appreciative of those who had waited by my side, hoping that I would get back.” Reaching down to the wheels, he spun the wheelchair as to look at Mia. “Mia, you had been my light since we got together and it was that light that I kept fighting to get back to you. Which is why I must confess something. On that night, I was not heading back to the bus to get my phone, never had. While my plans had been ruined by those events…” He reached for the charred box and held it in his hand. “A good friend said that nothing is too late to do what I want to do. Those events had me thinking about how much more that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So…” As his second hand reached for the lid of the box, Mia’s eyes showed the shock and realization of what was happening, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth. “Mia Rosalind Rice, will you make my life complete and marry this broken man?”

Everyone was stunned into silence, though Kayla watched on with a smile on her face. Tears started rolling down Mia’s cheek at the sight of the silver ring, encrusted with diamonds and amethysts along the band. He hands slowly fell off her face, revealing the smile that they had been hiding. “Oh, you big dummy. How could I say no to my broken man?”

Everyone on the sofas clapped as the newly-engaged couple embraced, the ring placed on her finger moments prior. As the conversation moved on to congratulating them, Kayla smiled, looking at them before her eyes moved to the view outside. The moon emerged from the clouds, it’s cool light illuminating the snowy landscape outside. Her thoughts turned back to that one memory that was just right for this occasion. Jason, although time has passed and things have happened since you’ve been gone, you still gave me one of my happiest memories of my life. I hope you were as happy as I was. And I hope you understand this; No matter what happens in the future… Grabbing the tray of hot cocoa-filled mugs, she joined the celebrations and carried on with them well into the night, the last thought ringing in her mind.

I will be alright.

[ShyDot]

---

Time: Evening - Christmas Day
Location: Odette’s Apartment - Paris, France

Christmas dinner was cooking throughout the day, the smell of chestnut stuffed turkey being occasionally basted was mouth wateringly strong. Hor'dourves were already placed, freshly baked biscuits delicately topped with caviar, while fresh oysters were waiting on a bed of ice inside the fridge. Crystal flutes for the champagne were shining brightly at the table. Christmas decorations were throughout the apartment. Garland, lights, snow globes, even classical christmas music played. Poinsettia and Holly bloomed then seemingly coming alive when Bach passed by. In his hair were sprigs of Yew leaves sprung out, a stem of yew berries hung over his ear.

He pulled up one of the antique chairs then decidedly lounged over the back of the chair, leaning back on the two legs of the chair. On the table there was a bowl of cranberries, he considered it then pulled a few yew berries off his head then hiding it among the other berries. He smiled mischievously before eating a handful of the regular berries.

Vienna had been busy preparing for this dinner for days, expertly executing all the dishes lined up for the evening. Taking care of every little detail from serving times to decorations. She was thrilled at the prospect of having guests, and sparing no expense for not only her Lady but her family as well. It was an extreme honour to dedicate an evening in such a way. The Ambassador had been away for the holidays the year before so this year was particularly special.

The household fey was merrily bouncing between the stove, the countertops, and the dual oven. A master at work.

Odette sat before her vanity leaning forward on her elbows applying liquid eyeliner. Already dressed in her evening wear, an icy white sheer sleeveless dress, with swirling patterns along the length of it. With dusty gold heels, and golden hooped earrings lay to her right. On the vanity to her left was Mandate’s disguise pendant.

At Mandate’s request Odette had spent the day modifying it and giving it much needed attention to improve her illusionary disguise. The golem was about the apartment, Odette needed to go over some rules for while her parents joined them for dinner. The sorceress hoped this evening would be, at least, relaxing. What she truly hoped for was her parents opening their gifts and arrive wearing them.

The approach of the holidays had been a fascinating time for Mandate. The golem in question, though harboring some knowledge of christmas, had grown more and more curious with every mention and sign of the approaching day, and she had been eager to delve into research- perhaps driven by some fondness not her own, nestled away in her souls. As it turned out, christmas was rapidly becoming one of her favorite times; the golem had no particular interest in the religious aspect of events, but the time of merriment and free gifts fit perfectly within her interests.

And, more than anything else, it was simply fun. Mandate’s voice had hummed in a merry tune in mimicry of the festive music as she had aided Vienna in decorating the apartment, her massive hands as delicate with the snow globes she was particularly fond of as they were with the ambassador herself. Even Bach’s presence wasn’t very sapping; he could be ignored as she bobbled about and helped to prepare the house for the christmas day and the coming guests.

Ah yes, the guests. I absolutely cannot break these ones. Mandate reminded herself sternly, swaying back and forth on her heels as she scanned the room delightedly. Everything was as set as it had been 30 minutes ago, but she couldn’t resist the urge to admire the little changes she had helped to make; being helpful was always a source of pride for the golem.

In truth, the guests were the only part that the golem was somewhat uncertain about. It was one thing to celebrate this half-remembered time for the first time- however strange that felt- with her dear miss ambassador, but to spend it with strangers as well was more perplexing, albeit intriguing. ”I hope they’re not rude,” she considered suddenly, her eye straying towards Bach. That would be very difficult.

But in a way, it was also exciting! She had a great fondness for meeting new people, new people that she couldn’t discover invasively. That tended to be exciting; it was still a very new experience for the golem. I wonder what I should do… she mused, her fingers idly brushing over where her disguising pendant would hang if she currently wore it. Finally, she reached her easy conclusion. Well, I’ll just act naturally, and I won’t break anything. It’ll be fine!” she decided, nodding as she brushed the issue away for the moment.

Very little could keep the golem worried for long, and concerns for squishy things that weren’t the ambassador weren’t one of them except in how they affected the human in question. She would just treat them as she treated other important people, and it would be fine.

Nothing could ruin her first christmas!

Odette called out to Mandate, “Mandate, if you have a moment please come here.” Fanning a hand at her drying eyeliner.

She heard Mandate approach then saw the golem in her doorway in the reflection of the mirror, ducking her head low to enter through. The majority of the apartment had high ceilings but her bedroom was among the few rooms not so lucky for Mandate, she slouched to avoid scraping the ceiling. “My parents will be here soon for dinner, as you know. They’re quite aware of Fey, but all other aspects of our lives are a secret. The illicit, the violence, and other such activities are to remain that way. Could you do that for me, my dear? Among keeping secrets I hope you do observe dinner party etiquette and manners.” Odette went on, brushing mascara onto her curled eyelashes. “Above all else, I do want you to enjoy yourself.”

”Of course, Miss Ambassador! I can keep secrets, and I’m excellent at being polite.” Mandate reassured the beautiful metaphorical star atop her proverbial desecrated holiday tree, slouched low and providing her typical V of a ‘smile’ as ever. They were simple, easy rules to follow, she figured; no murder, no whatever-else-was-illegal, and no talking about murder and other illegal activities. And of course, being polite, but that was only natural for Mandate. Only the unworthy didn’t get to see her as she was being polite.

”I can’t wait to meet the people who made you, Miss Ambassador. They must be interesting! And their awareness of the fey would make things a little easier on the golem, but that was a given. Or, perhaps not; Bach would probably be at the table, wouldn’t he? At least Vienna would probably be there too, though. She was much better than Bach.

Odette smiled in the mirror, poking the point of the hoop earring through her earlobes. “Very good. I’m sure you’d like to see your new disguise, I modified it to your specifications.” She scooped up the necklace, standing up. She held it up as tall as she could go, rising a few inches on the tip of her toes. “I did make you a proper christmas gift but opening that will come later, I know your curiosity is quite… substantial so I hid it well.”

Mandate did not at all resist the urge to coo as the ambassador tiptoed to reach her; how could someone so regal be so cute? The golem crouched lower for the sake of the human’s access, giddy to receive the necklace. She had been very specific about what she wanted upon her disguise, in keeping with the holiday spirit.

Then the mention of a gift registered, and her excitement was palpable in the way she fidgeted. ”A gift? For me? Thank you, Miss Ambassador! If I didn’t have to wait I’d open it right now!” she admitted shamelessly, simultaneously energetic and disappointed that she couldn’t access the present immediately. Maybe she’d bribe Vienna somehow?

Odette managed the necklace around the golem’s head then relaxed back onto her heels. She took a step backward holding up the length of her dress then admiring her work. “You look positively Christmasy.” She said with a note of pride. “Now your disguise eyes change to reflect high emotions, a little colour in your cheeks. Of course, the outfit as well.”

The tacky christmas sweater was woolly green, red trimmed and the unmistakable likeness of a christmas elf’s outfit below Mandate’s collar. It had little yellow pom poms sewn onto the collar points of the elf outfit, with a sequin gold belt buckle. They looked through pages upon pages of google search images for the perfect sweater to base hers off of. Embroidered at the corner of the sweater, ‘Best Elf’ in red script letters. In her disguise she was still rather large, by human standards as opposed to fantastic circumstances. She wore what appeared to be jeans but on her feet were bright red fuzzy slippers. She looked cozy.

“Have a look.” Odette stepped away from the vanity tipping her mirror up for Mandate to see.

It was everything the golem had hoped for, in its tacky glory. Mandate’s gasp of excitement was mirrored by the face that stared back at her. Tall and broad-shouldered, though nowhere near as massive as Mandate herself, the vibrant human that was her disguise was made even more-so by the decorative clothing. Her exuberance made itself known in the broad and expressive grin on her face, and her eyes -rather than her single cyclopean orb- twinkled with delight. That was new; previously, the disguise’s eyes had been quite dead and unblinking. Dark, unruly hair served as an imitation of the way her silvery ‘mane’ bristled when she was filled with emotions.

She loved it. ”Miss Ambassador! You made the eyes work! They did not work before! And look, I’m the best elf!” she exclaimed exuberantly. Her hands, guided by the view provided by the mirror, tugged on the nonexistent sweater as if to demonstrate the text more boldly. ”It’s perfect!”

“Magnifique! I am pleased you love it. Come, let’s wait for our guests in the sitting room.” She held the crook of Mandate’s arm, leading them out of the room. They moved onto the sitting room, as they passed Bach precariously leaning in the chair he craned his head upside down.

“You look beautiful, My Lady. Mandate, you don’t seem nearly as dead inside.” He said, dryly watching Odette detach from Mandate with a wave of her hand heading to neaten up some garland.

“Merci beaucoup, Bach.” She replied, her back turned focusing on the garland.

Bach smirked smugly at the golem, still upside down.

Bach. Mandate, detached from the previous pleasant contact with her one and only favorite human, stared down at the irritating man in question. Before her prickling irritation could grow any further, however, a thought occurred.

Grinning downwards, Mandate let out a startled exclamation. ”Careful, mister Bach!” Her toes knocked against the leg of the chair with a stealthy slide of her foot, unbalancing the whole thing as she reached out as if to catch him. She was going to let him fall, of course, but being polite meant that she had make a pretend effort.

Uncoordinated he toppled over, he sat in that position for a moment folding his hands on his stomach. Whispering for Mandate only, “I know what Odette got you for Christmas.”

Odette turned around shaking her head, “If you damaged that chair you’ll be the one to fix it.” Stern, a little unimpressed and completely oblivious to what actually happened.

He rolled out of the chair. “Yes, My Lady.” A stiff bow of the head, “So, when are we expecting our guests?”

“Soon.” She replied, brightly.

One Hour Later

Odette drummed her nails across the table staring down the bottle of champagne. Vienna removed the food to keep it fresh in the fridge. She fully expected her parents to be late but this was absolutely ridiculous. She unlocked her phone to check the time then locked it, proceeding to unlock and lock it several times in irritation. Her patience was wearing thin.

Whereas the ambassador was growing steadily more irritated, Mandate was deeply bored. Her hands poked and prodded at christmas ornaments as she shuffled about the apartment, exchanging idle chatter with Vienna. The lateness of the guests didn’t bother the golem too much, but her attention span was such that she quickly found other things more distracting than waiting. But going over the same things could only be entertaining for so long when she couldn’t sink wholly into the examination.

Finally, finally the bell rang. Vienna announced it was Odette’s parents having finally arrived. She sprung up from her chair, then carefully smoothed down her dress. Vienna opened the door for Odette. Her mother and father stood in the doorway, Tristan and Perenelle Favre. “Joyeux Noël-” She paused registering what her parents arrived in.

Tristan Favre had an unruly black mop of hair grown out without any attention to it, still sporting a five o’clock shadow. He wore a tacky christmas sweater with reindeer and santa claus, Rudolf leading the other reindeer. While her mother wore her mousy brown hair in a messy bun, looking as if she only woke up five minutes ago and wearing a tacky christmas sweater as well. Hers was a Mrs. Claus sweater. They grinned sheepishly. In unison they said in a sing song voice, “Bonsoir!”

Odette stepped aside, grimacing, “Please come in.”

“O-oh Anglais?” Tristan asked stepping inside, wiggling out of his boots. “You mentioned you had a friend here to have eating with us?” He switched to English, stuttering a little. He was decidedly a little rusty. Perenelle came in after him looking around for someone.

“Yes she is here for christmas dinner-” Perenelle leaned across air kissing Odette over her cheeks.

“You didn’t need to dress up for us, honey.” Perenelle said, “You look nice.”

“I gave you and Papa some new clothes for dinner, why didn’t you wear them? You’re so late, you were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Odette said, hurt. “I feel silly now, I’m going to go change.”

Perenelle swiped some hair out of her eyes while Tristan leaned over to air kiss Odette as well. “Ah- your father and I were caught up in some… Recherche. A new data sample that was begging to be mined. I was up all night-” She sucked her words back in as Odette sighed.

Was that a euphemism? Mandate wondered as she listened curiously, head tilted. She had abandoned the snow globe she had been playing with to approach once the ambassador’s guests had entered the apartment, observing with her usual smile.

“It does not matter, you are here now let me serve you some champagne.” She turned around seeing her father already pouring himself a glass and one for his wife as well. “Papa! Please, I insist.”

She hurried over gently tugging the bottle from her father’s hand. He laughed, “Relax, it’s just us. Speaking of just us, where’s Bach?”

He appeared from around the corner at the mention of his name and had a grin. Tristan and Perenelle hurried up to the Fey happily asking a million questions. Odette finished pouring the champagne passing them the glasses as they carried on.

She stepped up next to Mandate, “Meet my parents, Tristan and Perenelle Favre.”

Perenelle stopped mid sentence waving at Mandate, “Perry is fine!”

Odette raised her hand up and whispered, “They research the occult and supernatural. They love to speak with Bach whenever they have the chance.”

Mandate nodded in acknowledgement of the ambassador’s words, the smile of her disguise mirroring the good cheer she felt as she returned the wave. “It’s good to meet you, mister Tristan, Perry! I’m Mandate, you can just call me Mandate!” she greeted, shrugging amiably. ”It’s foreign.” That was sufficient, right?

More importantly… The smile upon Mandate’s disguise became a grin as her cheer intensified. ”I see that you are connoisseurs of tasteful sweaters as well!”

Tristan and Perry stepped over to Mandate, Tristan said, “Mandate? Ah, good to meet you too. Happy Christmas. You seem to be the, ‘Best Elf.’ Bach finally has some competition, huh?” He laughed good naturedly. Bach imitated the same laugh, not commenting.

Perry held out her hand to shake Mandate’s, “Yes, we rarely meet any of Odette’s friends. She is so busy with ballet. I can’t remember the last time we saw her perform.”

Odette commented, “I forward you tickets for every show. If you’ll excuse me, I will be right back. I will find my own… christmas sweater to wear as well.” She picked up the hem of her dress then stalked away to her bedroom.

Perry winced a little. “What is family dinners without a little drama hmm?”

Tristan shrugged as he sipped his wine. Vienna appeared out from the kitchen carrying the tray of oysters. “Good evening, please enjoy. She bowed deeply serving up the oysters onto glass plates with a cloth napkin. The small household fey had pulled her wild hair into a tight bun, wore her favourite red dress and Odette helped her apply a little make up.

She winked up at Mandate before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Mandate watched the ambassador leave, her disguise’s rather open face reflecting her concern, before it dissipated into a smile as she waved after Vienna. The ambassador would be alright, and apparently she had a good sweater to display as well. It took her a moment to turn back to the guests and accept the offered handshake, her thoughts lingering on her human companion. So far, the guests in question had not made the best impression; their sweaters were exquisite, but their politesse was lacking. But she would persevere, for the ambassador’s sake.

Her handshake was as gentle as her handling of christmas ornaments, barely there, and she hoped the pendant did a good job of disguising the true size of her hand. ”Mhm, best elf!” she affirmed, smiling ‘good-naturedly’ at Bach. ”I hope so!”

Ribbing her least favorite person aside, the mentioning of her favorite person’s ballet was enough to brighten up the golem further. Subtlety was not outside of her abilities, but she preferred to be blunt. ”You should watch her perform more often,” she replied, chipper, ”It’s always beautiful!” Indeed, it had been a great treat to watch. To not see it at every opportunity… Well, that was another strike against these rude humans. They were lucky they made the ambassador.

Tristan responded, “Oui, our Odette is a wonderful dancer. We should at least make time to see The Nutcracker before they move on.” He looked to his wife, she shrugged a little before dipping her head back to eat an oyster. He whispered, “Is she in it?”

Perry shrugged again, unsure.

Bach supplied, “No, she auditioned for the Snow Queen but did not get it. She is an understudy for Mrs. Stahlbaum, however.”

Perry said, “Ah, what a pity. Roles come and go.”

Tristan nodded.

Odette emerged from her bedroom in white leggings and her own christmas sweater. It was dark navy blue with a christmas tree with presents beneath it, little lights poked out from the sweater. She clicked them on as she joined them.

Mandate’s cooing was not at all diminished by her disguise. Her hands moved to her cheeks, her fond smile growing as she looked the sweater up and down. She at least resisted the urge to reach out and poke at the lights, but she was vocal about her admiration. ”It’s so cute!” she offered encouragingly, aware of Odette’s somewhat diminished mood. It was important to let the ambassador know she cared.

Odette smiled warmly up to her friend, pulling on a stray thread, “Merci, Mandate. I was afraid the batteries died. I did want to wear my dress but… now we match.” She squeezed the golem’s hand.

“Let’s have a seat and eat.” She gestured to the living room, on the tv was on the fireplace channel. It crackled invitingly. She scooped up an oyster for herself and poured a glass.

Perry observed, “You’re not going to offer Mandate anything to eat or drink?”

Mandate, gleeful and pleased with the ambassador’s smile and attention, thought little of her reply. After all, she had said to observe dinner party etiquette and manners. It was only polite to eat, or pretend to eat. ”I’d love some, actually!” she announced, grin growing.

Odette stared, “Of-of course. My apologies Mandate, I thought you were… allergic to shellfish.” Reluctantly she picked up a plate for the golem passing it over.

“Bon appetit.” Odette said, now regretting not adding some more features to the illusion. She sipped her wine, watching with unease.

Mandate hesitated now that the food was in front of her. The logistical errors had been obvious even as she spoke up, but she had figured that it would seem weird for her to simply not eat at all, or at least to not have a plate. Perhaps she could simply leave it there?

… Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. ”Muchos gracias.” she chirped, mangling the pronunciation as she lifted the oyster. But what now? Slowly, gently, she pressed it against her face, over her ‘mouth’, smiling brightly at the ambassador’s guests as she ruined the oyster and smeared it upon herself.

”... I think that was delicious.” she announced after a few moments of silence.

The three humans stared, Bach howled with laughter unable to contain himself.

Tristan commented, slowly, awkwardly. “...Indeed.” He tore his eyes away, finishing off his glass.

Odette grimaced leaning in close to whisper, “Here is a napkin, Mandate. Pretend to wipe yourself clean. I’m sure Vienna would have appreciated the effort.”

”Thank you, Miss Ambassador.” the golem replied with a cheerful whisper, some of her uncertainty cleared by the thought of Vienna’s appreciation. She considered little Vienna a friend of sorts, after spending so long in the ambassador’s apartment.

”Do you think I fooled them?” she murmured slyly, fully aware that she had not, in fact, fooled them. Perhaps it was obvious by her amused tone, though she studiously ignored Bach.

Odette looked over her shoulder, her parents had their heads bowed whispering much like they were doing now. “I think so.” Odette joked, with a wink.

Vienna popped her head out of the kitchen to announce, “Dinner is served!”

They all followed Vienna to the dining room, the table had been beautifully set. At each placemat was a proportionately served turkey dinner with steamed vegetables, gravy spooned into small serving bowls. There had been a special plate of steamed vegetables and other wild greens for Bach separately. On the table was set with butter, freshly cut bread into slices served on it’s own platter. Sterling silverware, porcelain plates, and matching plateware as arranged on the table. They all took their places at the table, Odette at the head of the table Mandate to her left and Bach on her right while Perry sat beside Mandate and Tristan was beside Bach. Mandate, for her part, politely ignored the way her chair creaked under her 500 pounds of weight.

Vienna was the last to join after filling water glasses and serving red wine, seating herself. “Please, enjoy.”

Odette raised her glass of water in toast, “Merry Christmas, I am blessed to spend today with my family and friends. Vienna thank you for all the hard work you have provided us a surely delicious meal. Mandate,” She gestured to her left, “Unexpected was our meeting but I cherish the friendship you have provided me. You have provided me a great deal otherwise, but most of all I am grateful for you.” Sincere, genuine where those who truly knew her.

While Mandate could not breathe, and her body was hardly soft, nevertheless she was able to puff her chest out as she all but glowed from the ambassador’s acknowledgement, grinning brightly. There was no one else that could make her feel so bright; the presence of Bach couldn’t diminish that.

“To Bach, I am forever grateful to you my dear friend. As always, I rely on you for most things. Thank you.” she said next to Bach, he grinned proudly then bowed his head in thanks.

Odette’s attention turned to her parents, “I appreciate all the support you two have given me and to my dreams. Joyeux Noel.” The quickest note, but not for lacking sincerity. There was little she could truly expand upon. They carefully clinked glasses.

The sorceress held Mandate’s hand carefully guiding the glass close enough to tink it gently. “Very gently.”

”Thank you.” Mandate offered sweetly, truthfully referring to more than just the guidance of her glass. Her other hand raised and-as gently as ever- clasped Odette’s for a moment, offering a gentle squeeze. Her grin was bright as it turned to Vienna next. ”And thank you for the meal, Vienna. I’m sure it’s delicious.” And she was quite certain of that; not being able to taste it didn’t diminish her faith in Vienna.

Vienna grinned at Mandate, “It certainly is!” While the others began to eat Vienna watched her Lady to take the first bite. When Odette bit into a bit of turkey first, she closed her eyes appreciating the flavour and moist meat. Vienna satisfied and dug into the food herself.

All around the table others complimented Vienna and her cooking. Perry and Tristan launched back into their conversation with Bach, opening the discussion to the table. Odette occasionally answering her parent’s questions in between bites, loosening up a bit after a glass of wine. Bach happily soaking up the attention, dazzling the pair of scientists with more lore and sometimes even false information. Odette did not correct him, she figured it was his attempt to prank or lead them about. Odette turned to Mandate, growing bored of his conversation power gaming. He hardly needed to.

“So, how are you liking Christmas so far?”

”I’m loving it! I’m really happy I learned about it and am spending it with you, ah...” Mandate paused for a moment, face scrunching up in thought, before she leaned over to whisper. ”Miss Ambassador, can I keep calling you Miss Ambassador while they’re here?” she murmured, tone wondering.

Chewing through some bread she noted, “Try referring to my name, see how it sounds. If it is too strange you can continue with ‘Miss Ambassador.’” She sipped her wine some more sighing with delight.

”Hm…” the golem hummed, watching the ambassador for a moment as she considered the idea. ”Miss Favre-no, miss Odette. Odette.” It was different. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it was not at all what the golem was used to when it came to her human companion. She shrugged, and recollected her thoughts.

”I’m really enjoying myself. Your parents are okay, and they have a good taste in sweaters. And it feels nice.” Mandate considered her choice of words. That was the root of it, really. ”Spending time like this feels really nice. I’m happy, and I hope you’re happy. I hope Vienna is happy too.”

Odette nodded, smiling, her cheeks rosy. She found herself liking Mandate using her name, it was incredibly strange however. “Feels lovely. I am happy. We have had ourselves quite the year. A few things I would go back and change.” She admitted. “Nothing I truly regret though.”

Perry tore away from the conversation to comment, “That is good, Odette. You know what I regret?”

Odette braced herself.

Perry waited a beat then said, “I didn’t have room for dessert.”

Vienna laughed so did Odette, exhaling with comical relief. “Mère.”

Dinner was finished, scraps cleared away, as a group carrying their respective drinks they moved back into the living room. Observing the large christmas tree, as they approached the faint smell of pine needles was apparent. The tree itself was decorated in rose-gold ribbons, blue lights twinkled on a timer, icicle decorations with the assortment of personal ornaments hung throughout it. Another point where sparing no expense was made. At the top of the tree was a glass star nestled carefully with a small white light set behind it. Beneath it were expertly wrapped presents. Bow tied ribbons, glittering name tags, proudly done by Odette herself.

Mandate observed the christmas tree with the eye- or, on her disguise, eyes- of a proud craftsman. Placing the ornaments had been a task of utmost delicacy and care, aided by Vienna’s sure hand that was comparatively unable to destroy the entire apartment in one swing. Miss Vienna even let me set the star! It had probably been because of her great reach making it a not so delicate task, and Vienna had helped her straighten it out, but still.

Odette gazed up at the tree, then bent low searching throughout the pile of presents for Mandate’s. A small flat box with bright solid blue wrapping paper with a white ribbon. “Mandate, this is for you. Merry Christmas.”

”Oh, me first? Thank you, M-Odette!” It wasn’t that Mandate had forgotten the presence of a gift from Odette, per se; the thought had been nagging her since Bach had mentioned it, possibly as a petty gesture. The festivity and joy had simply distracted her from that thought, as filled with anticipation as she was. What could it be, what could it be?

The golem accepted the present with steady hands, her disguise’s face as bright and anticipatory as her voice. Claiming a seat for herself, the occasionally-gentle giant began to work at removing the wrapping and ribbon. For all of her destructive power, she handled it as if a single misstep would shatter the entire thing; as if it was a bomb resting in her hands, a bomb that she actually cared about at any rate.

Rather than a bomb, what awaited the golem within the box was… A pocket watch? Beautiful and ever-so-delicate resting within her palm, Mandate’s adoring eye roamed over the intricate form of the timepiece, a fluttering within her that could not possibly come from any part of her physical form. It was equal parts complex and lovely- which applied to most of the things Mandate loved. She did not have a great understanding of pocket watches, but she did have a great love for the intricate and delicate, particularly for admiring it; something that the ambassador doubtlessly knew. And, the golem realized belatedly, it was not simply a pocket watch.

To be more precise, it was an ornament. Mandate ran her fingers over the chain of the watch, inspecting it between two large fingers. It did not seem to be meant to be worn, as it was simply too short and small for that, but... The metaphorical gears in her mind turned as if they were the inner workings of the pocket watch itself, though greatly accelerated.

Then, she looked up.

Her disguise’s expression- for all of its manic and overwhelming glee- failed to convey the feeling that gripped her so tightly. All of her months of acclimation to the new and exciting realm of existence still couldn’t brace her for the feelings that struck on occasion, less like a physical strike and more like a strong gust, flowing over here; a breeze under metaphorical wings. She was far too heavy to fly, but her heart soared.

”Odette,” she murmured as breathlessly as a being without breath could, ”Is it for the tree? An ornament?”

Odette gestured to the tree, “Yes it is. It’s a tradition, while decorating a tree is for the sake of decoration is great fun. Over the years, family’s add ornaments that hold great significance. My gift to you is your first ornament, it will have its own special place on our christmas tree every year.” She said softly, patting the box. “This signifies our friendship is timeless.”

“Immortalized.” Her tone weighted in meaning. Her parents looked on curiously, completely unaware.

There were many things Mandate wished to say, but words sufficient to convey Mandate’s emotions failed her, so she did not try. Instead, the golem gently placed the box to the side, and surged forward into a gentle but all-encompassing hug, comfortably tight and pressing her absolute favorite person against her form. ”Timeless!” she agreed, her voice bright with cheer as she indulged her sudden urge to hold the ambassador. ”And immortalized. Thank you so much, Odette. I’ll make sure it’s the first of many!”

Just as quickly, she disengaged, searching the tree with a bright eye, longing for a prime spot to make her mark upon the tradition.

Odette turned as well observing the tree with her hands behind her back, pleased by Mandate’s reaction. Keeping secrets from her parents hadn’t felt the part of a burden for once, for that she was grateful. The night carried on in festivities, food and company. Some drifted away to sleep, while others stayed awake to watch the clock strike midnight. It was peaceful, a slice of memory all were sure to keep.