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kariachi · 6 years

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Another commission! This time over 11k of Martin Mystery/Ben 10 crossover for @thenixkat.

A young man walks calmly through the forest. It’s been a nice afternoon, so far- hot and muggy with little cloud cover to prevent the summer sun from streaming through the trees. There’s a notable lack of birdsong, and just a quarter mile down the path he’d found a crow lying on the concrete, but he’s not worried. It’d winged off as soon as he nudged it with his shoe. Anyway, birds were supposed to call when predators were around, and if something was wrong in the park surely an alert would’ve been put out by now. It’s too nice of a day to waste time worrying over nothing.

Something glints in the sunlight, off to the side of a curve in the path near a large outcropping of rock and the man’s curiosity gets the better of him. A glass bottle maybe? Some loser littering out here, ruining things for the wildlife and the guests? He comes closer, hand resting on the stone, focused on the shining object. Yes, definitely a loser, but not as much a loser as him. After all, anyone littering here probably has a job, an education, a lover, isn’t living in their parents’ basement like he is. They’ve never ruined everything for everybody, but he has, hasn’t he? Just one failure after another starting with being born at all, such a waste….

He’s so caught in his own head, he doesn’t even see the teeth.

“-but of course the police don’t believe them, because what civilian cop is going to believe the person in the house you were breaking into was murdered by donuts-”

“Hey guys!”

“Oh thank God.” Diana just about collapsed with relief right on the moving walkway at their alien friend’s timely arrival. Martin had been talking about this movie for two days and now that he’d realized she wasn’t going to watch it with him he’d decided to just recap the entire fucking thing. “Hi Billy.”

“Hi Billy.”

“Hey Billy!” The grin on Martin’s face could not be removed, only turned to new victims. “I was just telling Diana about this new movie that came out- Attack of the Killer Donuts.”

“Ooo,” Billy grinned back, “sounds interesting.”

“It is! It’s got almost all the classic B-horror tropes! I’ll stream it for you after we get back from this mission.”

“Speaking of which,” Diana interrupted before her only shot at a moment without breakfast foods as a main topic vanished into the ether (Java wasn’t helping, he’d given up and watched the film within the first two hours and was now on Martin’s side, the traitor), “any idea what we’re getting into?”

“MOM’s got the details,” the alien said, “but I do know Osmosians are involved, so I printed off these pamphlets.” As he spoke he distributed the pieces of paper. The whole team’s brows raised as one at the first item listed. ‘Bring food.’ “Security Chief Jones was involved in their original production, so you can trust the information to be accurate.”

“Uh, thanks, Billy.” They were all still focused on the pamphlets, reading through the surprisingly short list of safety tips. They mostly seemed to boil down to ‘don’t let them get hungry’ and ‘don’t piss them off’.

“Don’t worry, Eva says they’re really nice people.”

For once MOM didn’t appear to have some experiment going, no guests hanging around, and Martin was visibly thrown off by it. Instead she was checking three backpacks stuffed to the brim with gear, from water canteens hanging off the sides to what were probably area maps and what looked like way too much food.

“Jones not kidding,” Java said as they watched her shift things in one of the packs so another Ziploc of trail mix could be fit inside.

“Hi MOM,” Martin then said, coming forward with a grin and snatching up one of the packs, hefting it over his shoulder. “What sort’ve mission have we got today? Saharan zombies? Jungle werewolves?” MOM just raised a brow, zipping the pack she’d been fiddling with shut and circling her desk to take a seat.

“Not quite, Martin.” She picked a folder up off the desk and handed it to Diana as she and Java joined them. “You’ll be investigating a series of missing persons cases at Star Ridge State Park in the eastern United States.” The boys peered over Diana’s shoulders as she flipped through the folder, grabbing packs for herself and Java with her tail. Inside were numerous police reports describing the disappearances of nine people, including photos of the missing. A pair of girls no older than her and Martin. A man in his mid-twenties. Middle-aged, elderly, children, there didn’t seem to be any pattern to the missing.

Only one particularly stood out, and the team all glanced at each other when they got to them. The photo showed an adult, they supposed, with short antlers, a muzzle, and tufted tail. Their skin was thick and tawny brown, covered in scutes, and they had teeth like something out of the Ice Age. One eye, the left, was marred with scarring and left a milky pink.

“I take it this is why Billy was talking about Osmosians?” Diana asked, and MOM nodded.

“The park contains a large pack,” she said, “and a good portion of it is their territory. You’ll have to be careful and respectful when inside, Martin.”

“Hey!”

“Osmosians do not suffer disrespect well, especially not established packs. They and the local tribe have happily agreed to work with us, so don’t make either one regret it.” Her tone turned sharp on the last portion, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Of course,” Diana said, and Java nodded beside her. MOM just hummed back at them.

“The pack has called in a team themselves,” she continued, “you’ll be meeting them at the Greenwich Entrance.”

“Wait,” Martin said as she opened the door out, “why would they call in someone else if we’re already coming?”

“It’s an Ossy thing.”

“Is even in pamphlet,” Java said, holding his own copy up, and he was right.

#9. It’s an Ossy thing, roll with it.

The trip in was uneventful, and mostly consisted of Martin trying to work out what sort’ve paranormal mess they were walking into and Diana- who at this point wasn’t even going to argue about the paranormal with him, he was right over half the time and she just ended up listening to him gloat about it- trying to make him drive like a person who knew how. Meanwhile Java appeared to have tuned them both out about an hour ago, pulling out a novel and burying himself in that for most of the drive.

Entering the park revealed a lovely sight. Everything was in full bloom- green vines with trumpet-shaped pink-orange flowers creeping high on the red brick archway that marked the entrance, native flowers a mass of color beneath the entrance sign. Trees all various shades of rich greens. Bees buzzed, butterflies fluttered, and in pride of place sat a large fountain topped with a sculpture of a doe and fawns.

Two people who were probably human stood at the base of the fountain, a distinction made because most of the people they were watching off to the side very much weren’t. One was, an elderly man with dark skin, but out of the other three one was clearly an Osmosian, like the victim they had the photo of, while another’s blue fur blatantly marked him as alien, and the last had teeth they could see flash when they talked even as they came to a stop several yards away. At their feet was a large blue, dog? thing? maybe? There wasn’t that much time to dwell on it, because one of the humans was a girl their age and so as soon as the keys were out of the ignition Martin practically teleported to her side. The redhead looked both surprised and unimpressed by his sudden appearance.

“Hey there, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. My name’s Martin-” True to form he didn’t seem to notice how the girl and the brunet beside her were side eyeing him. He also didn’t notice his sister storming over until she had him by the ear and was yanking him away from them.

“I’m sorry about him, he’s a moron,” she said, holding out her free hand to shake. “I take it you’re the other team that got called in?”

“More like Kevin got called in and we came along for the ride, but yeah,” the girl replied with a firm handshake. “Gwen Tennyson, this is my cousin Ben- also a moron-”

“Hey!”

“-and over there are Rook, Kevin, and the dog is Zed.” Diana nodded, gesturing to her own team.

“I’m Diana Lombard, this is my brother, Martin Mystery, and that’s Java.” Java waved with a smile and Ben waved back.

“Wait, ‘Martin Mystery’?” Kevin and Rook were returning to the group, a map clenched in Rook’s hands and Zed at their heels. There was a toothy and slightly sinister grin on Kevin’s face. “The Martin Mystery and company?” Java and Diana shared a wary look as Martin puffed up like a rooster and held out a hand, gaze lingering briefly on the tight shirt and monstrous teeth.

“The one and only.” Kevin’s toothy grin only got more worrying, even as he accepted the handshake.

“I’m Eva Jones’s son.” And Martin deflated like a popped balloon, which was always amusing for the others. There was no way the Chief of Security’s son was going to be in awe. Something that was all but confirmed when he continued talking. “Mom has told me so many stories about you.”

“What kind of stories?” Martin asked, eyes narrowing slightly, and Kevin shrugged.

“Varies. Sometimes I stop by for dinner and get to hear about ‘Agent Lombard beat a slug-fucker with brains and a saltwater fish tank’, others I get a text in the middle of the night thanking me for having enough sense to not let a werewolf wound go untreated.” And there it was, Martin was on the edge of pouting. Fortunately- or unfortunately, if you were Diana and loved watching your brother wallow in his own dangerous stupid- Gwen was merciful.

“So, what have we got to go on?” Rook seemed as happy to get to work as Martin and smiled at all of them, immediately going and laying the map he held out on the fountain wall.

“Aaron and John were good enough to provide us a map showing the general area of each disappearance,” he said, pointing out a series of red spots on the map. They were all clustered over a large area with no discernible pattern. “If we make our way onto the Aspen Trail, then cut onto the Blackcap Trail, we should be able to do a partial circuit of the area.” Stepping back, Martin stretched and grinned.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They’d been walking an hour and Diana was in hell.

“I wouldn’t call Attack of the Killer Donuts the best B-horror of our time, I mean have you seen Ice Spiders?”

“Really, Benji? If you’re going with Syfy-style you could at least go for Attack of the Killer Lampreys or something.”

“Ooo, that one was awesome! I’ve watched it four times!”

“Java big fan of Lake Placid sequels.”

“Hold up- Two? Or three and four?”

“Three and four.”

“Good man.”

It was a nightmare.

“I was really hoping Martin would leave this discussion behind.” Gwen patted Diana on the shoulder, joining her in sighing.

“Men, can’t live with them and if you kill them you have to deal with their mothers.” Diana almost joked about having a shot then, then remembered that much like she was, despite all attempts, clearly their father’s favorite, Martin and their mother had bonded like no other, and it was entirely likely that if she killed him Mom would disown her and start again with new children.

She sighed once more.

“So,” she said, pulling her eyes off the boys walking ahead of them to look at Gwen, “the pack brought you guys in?” Gwen nodded.

“Kevin’s Top Ossy on the planet right now, and the missing Ossy is his brother-in-law’s cousin, so when the pack couldn’t figure out what was happening he’s where they turned. The rest of us didn’t want him running into who knows what kind of trouble without back-up.” She could understand that. Apparently, nobody knew what they were dealing with, other than that it probably wasn’t a natural phenomenon (score- one Martin, yay). There weren’t any sinkholes found or anything, and Diana couldn’t imagine large predators had much space to come in with a whole pack of them already living there. But then, why was it…

“Does it seem eerily quiet to you?” Diana asked after a moment. There was still the boys’ conversation, but under it was, nothing.

“Oh thank god, it’s not just me. Shouldn’t there be birds or bugs or something?”

“Yeah…”

Up ahead, Zed sudden froze and began to growl.

Nothing appeared off about the area they were heading into, but still the group stopped where they were and carefully took stock of what was ahead. It was a small valley, not particularly deep but still notable. The path went in, followed the edge of the river, heavily laden with plant-life, then went back up the cliffside a few acres along. At first look, purely innocuous, but as they closed in on each other protectively experience told them they weren’t so lucky.

“Prime ambush territory,” Ben said, and the others all nodded.

“I say we risk it,” Martin added, and Diana sighed.

“Of course you do.”

“What are we going to learn if we don’t go in? Nothing, so we go.”

“It makes sense.”

“If we die, the Center’s paying for the funerals.”

“Deal.”

Which was about the point where a massive head came out of the undergrowth, straight at them, at speed.

“Shit!” Nearly as one mind they scattered, Gwen instinctively hurling a mass of pink energy at the creature as they dodged its fangs. The damn things were easily the length of Diana’s arm! The girls, Kevin, and Rook scrambled away from the creature as more of it emerged, Kevin’s hand tight on Zed’s collar.

It was a massive serpent, with a head easily as wide as Java. The scales along it’s body were a deep, deep black with dark blue banding and shone with a rainbow of iridescence, its head crested with a rack of long, tined antlers. High on the head, between its eyes- one a deep brown and the other a milky beige- sat a diamond crystal that blazed in the mid-afternoon sun. It was beautiful, so beautiful. Surely this would be the best way to die, here to something lovely, rather than later to some slime creature, or ghost, or whatever horrible thing she would be made to face next. A miracle, the fact she’d survived this long, how much longer could luck last before something else ate her, possessed her, best for them not to have the chance-

A flash of pain as she hit concrete and Diana was knocked from her daze, looking up to see Rook laid overtop of her on the trail as the serpent surged forward above them. It turned on itself, clearly drawing back for another attempt and giving Kevin and Gwen just enough of an opening to rush back in and haul them to their feet. The two bolted back up the path, Zed just ahead of them and Kevin behind, as Gwen blasted the beast again, sending it reeling long enough for Martin and Java to come running back out from where they’d tumbled into the valley, Ben over the caveman’s shoulder.

“There’s two of them,” Martin yelled as they ran passed, grabbing Gwen by the arm and shoving her ahead of them. “Two!”

True to word another of the beasts slithered behind them, whole and hearty and quickly joining with the first in chasing them down. All they could do was keep running, running despite the realization these things were fast, and large enough that they all knew any distance they might gain would be lost if they tried to head into the trees. These things could probably eat the trees. Relief only came when Ben finally came back to himself, vanishing in a flash of green light that had Java dropping him in the path, only to appear again as a plantperson.

“Time to bring the heat,” he said, shooting seeds from his hands into the earth along the path. Almost instantly they sprouted, bursting forth as thick vines that joined together to form a wall blocking the way. He then lit the vines on fire, just in case. “Hah! Let’s see ya get through that!”

“Don’t tempt the dragons!” Swampfire squeaked as Kevin got him by the back of the neck, having doubled back once he realized what was happening, and dragged him along with the others.

They may or may not have been being chased anymore, but they sure as fuck weren’t stopping.

“I can’t believe we almost got eaten by an Uktena!”

“Two Uktena.”

“Even better!”

For the most part they were all collapsed at one of the outlook spots on the trail. Martin, though, was pacing back and forth with a grin because who else did Diana know who would think nearly dying via giant snake monster was cool?

“Okay, Martin,” Gwen said, “glad you’re happy, but if you could fill the rest of us in.” He stopped and turned his grin on the group.

“Uktena are horned serpents from Cherokee myth, formed out of people unhappy with their lives,” he said. “The crystal on the head? It’s called an Ulun'suti- I probably butchered that… Anyway, it’s mildly hypnotic and eventually creatures who stare into it just give themselves up to be eaten!” A look of mild confusion came over his face. “They don’t normally hunt humans though, that’s weird…” Off the side, where he was lying in the grass, Kevin shook his head.

“A dragon made out of people, with a blind left eye, that’s just suddenly showed up?” He lifted his head enough to look at the others. “That was Dalen.” His head thudded back down. “Also explains why she’s hunting humans, we aren’t picky eaters.”

“Alright,” Diana said, “that explains the one then. What about the other?” Everybody shrugged.

“Who knows,” Martin said, “could be another one of the missing people, could be one that just showed up around now. Maybe having the other one here attracted it.”

“Knowing our luck it heard we were coming and decided to join in.” Ben heaved a sigh. “Why is it always things with scales? We have not met anyone decent with scales!”

Diana was happy to see everyone except Ben sit up and give him the stink eye. Kevin doubly so.

“Excepting present company.” She continued to glare, tail twitching in aggravation. Was it cool to smack one of somebody else’s boys?

“Uh-huh, yeah..”

“And all of my siblings? Just not a thing now?” Kevin asked with a sneer, before falling back to the ground. Zed whined and curled up against his side. “Just, will somebody kill him and save me the trouble?”

“No killing my cousin,” Gwen said, flopping back down herself.

“And you all see why we broke up.” While Kevin huffed, Ben turned a pleading gaze on Martin, in clear hopes of back-up. Instead Martin gave him a sharp look and went to collapse beside his sister and Gwen.

“Not cool, man.”

They decided, in the end, to turn in for the night and pick the mission back up in the morning. The reasoning being that it was getting late and since so far all known attacks and attempted attacks had happened during the day odds were good the Uktena were at least primarily diurnal. An unoccupied cabin was found along the trail, outside of what Martin and Kevin had deemed the ‘Dinner Zone’ as well as the pack territories. That second bit was important because once everyone was inside Kevin had gone out and rubbed his scent all over the trees surrounding the building, just in case that helped.

It was an Ossy thing. They rolled with it.

Dinner options were slim. The Center had provided trail food- mixes, jerky, dried fruit- and a few tins of canned meat and fish for each agent. The Tennyson team turned out to be at least a little more prepared, mostly because Kevin had managed to fit a corned beef into his pack (“We just don’t ask anymore, last time it ended with a two-hour explanation of space-time and dimensional rigging that went over everybody’s head”) and Rook had brought a collapsible pot and portable range (“You would think the park would stock these, but apparently no”). Most of the corned beef went to Kevin and Zed, something the Tennysons and Rook didn’t begrudge them and Martin, Diana, and Java- keeping in mind the pamphlets- decided to follow their lead on. They weren’t certain what happened if an Osmosian got hungry, but they didn’t want to find out.

Eventually, the group split into two, with Java, Rook, and Kevin taking over the kitchen while the others hung out the whole ten feet away in the living room. If nothing else the cooks seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and chatting and exchanging tips and tricks and recipes. And at some point Kevin’d put his hair up, the end result of which was Martin watching them over the back of one of the couches, eyes narrowed, mouth open, and head tilted to one side as Ben patted him consolingly on the shoulder.

“I swear,” Diana said quietly as she watched this, leaning in close to Gwen, “I can feel his heterosexuality combusting from here.” Gwen nodded.

“Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

“You know, I never thought I’d enjoy canned sardines.”

“It is amazing what you can make work by cannibalizing the right packs.”

“And working with a guy who’s used to making a single ingredient into a million distinct recipes.”

“You are welcome.”

“Ooo, spellbook!” It was a testament to the sort’ve thing she was used to that Gwen didn’t jump when Martin unceremoniously dumped himself into the seat beside her. She’d figured getting some studying done couldn’t hurt, not when they were trying to deal with a pair of giant, magical snakes, but as soon as she’d pulled out the book and cracked it open there he’d been.

“Into magic?” she asked, looking at him critically, eyes narrowed. Martin puffed up proudly.

“Runs in the family,” he said, “I can’t even remember when my Gran and aunts started teaching me spellwork.” Gwen snorted a quick laugh.

“Lucky. I had to teach myself. It’s only in the last few years I’ve gotten any actual teaching, or access to new books.” She raised the one in her lap slightly for emphasis and watched Martin light right up.

“Wait here! Java!” Leaping to his feet he crossed the space between himself and the caveman, immediately digging into the front of his shirt and pulling out a large book before practically diving back for the couch. “Check this out.”

The book wasn’t as grand as the one Gwen held, and it was certainly in worse shape. There was water damage, scorch marks, and places where dirt had clearly been ground into the parchment. As Martin flipped through it Gwen was fairly certain she saw evidence that it had been rebound at least once. But it was stuffed to the brim with spells and notes in what she had to assume was his own handwriting. Half of the spells weren’t even in the same languages, she counted at least six. Three of which she didn’t recognize.

“Okay,” she said after about the third spell in what she would later learn was Etruscan, leaning over to dig through her pack for some pens and paper, “you can copy from mine if I can copy from yours. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Okay,” Rook said the next morning while they all gathered over a breakfast of cereal bars, jerky, and dried apples, plus plenty of instant coffee for Martin and Gwen (“It’s your own fault for staying up till four am”), “let us review- what do we know?”

“That we’re dealing with two Uktena,” Diana said, “one of whom used to be an Osmosian.”

“Because of course Ossys aren’t scary enough,” Ben added and got swatted for it because she and Kevin were both too tired for him to start.

“Hunting here,” Java said, pointing at the map laid on the table between them, “in valleys.”

“They’re ambush predators,” Martin said around a bite of cheerio bar. “Plus, their breath is poisonous.”

“Oh joy.” Sarcasm was just dripping from Kevin’s voice. “Hypnotic and poisonous.” He sighed, snatching up a handful of jerky and chewing it with open aggravation. “Roy can never hear about that, for his own sake.” Gwen patted his shoulder and passed an apple ring to Zed before leaning forward to inspect the map.

“So, what do we do then? Are we catching them or-?”

“The Center can move them somewhere they won’t be a threat to any people,” Diana said. “They’ve done it before with larger creatures. We just have to subdue them first so they can come in and get them.”

“It’s safer than trying to kill them anyway,” Martin added. “They’ve only got one vulnerable spot, on the seventh stripe, and it’s tough to hit without being in eating range.”

“Okay,” Ben said, “so all we have to do is catch them.”

“Easier said than done,” Diana replied, leaning back against the couch. “How do we catch them?”

“If you guys can get them to stay still,” Gwen said, “Martin and I both have sleep spells we can cast on them. I don’t know for sure if they’d work on these things, but it’s worth a shot.”

“I don’t know, Gwen,” Martin said, rubbing the back of his head. “Supposedly seeing these things asleep causes your family to die.”

“At this point,” Kevin tossed in, “I would be impressed if something managed to kill the family I’ve still got.” The table went quiet, everyone rolling the risk around in their heads, blindly watching Zed sneak food.

“Alright,” Rook eventually said, “how about this- Ben, do you think you could use Diamondhead or Swampfire to subdue them?” Ben hummed, leaning back in his seat as he considered the idea.

“Diamondhead, Swampfire, Wildvine, all could lock them in place from a distance. Maybe Gravattack? And if need be I could always possess them one at a time with Ghostfreak…”

“How about we avoid possession?” Diana asked, shivering. She’d seen and experienced enough possessions in her life, thank you, she didn’t want to play witness to any more than she had to. Java laid a supportive hand on her shoulder. The Tennyson team gave her a questioning look, but Kevin soon nodded, and the rest followed suit.

“Yeah, that’s a trauma I think we can all forgo reliving if we have the chance.”

“So,” Rook continued, “we draw them out into the open and Ben subdues them. If that does not work, then Martin and Gwen put them to sleep. Agreed?” Everyone looked at each other, then slowly began to shrug.

“It’s the best plan we’ve got so far,” Ben said. “So, Martin, you’re our expert, where should we look for these things?”

“Well…” Martin leaned forward, looking over the map. “They’re ambush predators, so they should probably hang out in places where they can jump out at people… Caves, valleys, deep water, dense foliage, large rocks…” Again, the table went silent as everyone considered the information.

“So,” Kevin finally said, “the entire Dinner Zone, basically?”

“I wish you guys wouldn’t call it that…”

“Pretty much,” Martin answered. He hummed contemplatively, tapping his fingers on the table as he considered the map and their options. “They are snakes though, maybe we can catch them sunning. Then they’d already be out in the open.”

“Good idea,” Java said, and the others nodded.

“We’d still have to find out where they sun,” Rook noted, but Kevin was already on his feet.

“Leave that to me,” he said, pulling out his phone and stepping off to the side, “the local pack should know every decent sunning spot in the park.”

“Okay then. Everyone,” Ben said with a grin, also rising to his feet, “get your shit together, we’ve got some snakes to catch.”

The cabin became a buzz of activity, as everyone scrambled to get their things back in order and clean up after themselves. Trash was shoveled into bins, counters were given a final wipe down, books and writing supplies were carefully tucked away into packs. Dinner and breakfast had cleared enough room for extra things to be stowed inside them, such as Martin’s spellbook and some of the canteens, which the group took the time to refill at the sink. It was the height of summer, even in a temperate region you didn’t want to run out of water if you didn’t have to. At some point Kevin returned to the couch, snatching a pencil from Martin so he could mark various areas on the map, chattering away with who they had to assume was Aaron in languages nobody understood. Occasionally the Omnitrix would pick up something in Imperial Osmosian, but other than that…

“We have sunning spots!” he finally called out, as everyone was finishing up packing, snatching up the map triumphantly and rocketing to his feet. “The hunt is on!”

The journey wasn’t exactly arduous, but it sure wasn’t easy. For one thing they had to move at a steady clip, as fast as they possibly could. Nobody knew how long it took for reptiles that size to get up to temperature, but they didn’t want to miss them and have to search the entire area. Even still, that wouldn’t have been so much to ask if there hadn’t been five different sunning spots recommended in and around the Dinner Zone, each of which was only accessible by narrow paths through the trees, half of which were overgrown with foliage. These were places the pack occasionally used, but which were far enough out of the way so as to not see regular visitors. Perfect places for monster serpents to catch the morning sun.

“I have a question,” Ben asked as they made their way down from a tall outcropping. It had been the third stop, to no avail, and while all of them were athletic and well hydrated they also were soaked with sweat. “How does someone even become a snake monster?” All eyes turned to Martin who was, as usual, glad to share his obscure knowledge.

“Well, according to Cherokee myth a guy turned himself into one while spending the night alone in an asi with a pair of deer antlers, but I’ve never seen anything detailing exactly how that worked. She probably didn’t need the antlers though, having her own.”

“Honestly I’d be pissed to have lost a pair,” Kevin said, grasping onto trees to slow his descent down a particularly steep area. “A lot of packs are really tied closely to neighboring communities, especially ones native to the particular region. Tribal land’s close enough, if there’s a trick to the transformation Dalen probably learned it from a Cherokee parent or cousin.”

“Or grandparent.”

“Same diff.” The group went quiet again, mostly to focus on not slipping and falling, something only Diana was immune to. Turned out the tail was useful for balance and for catching herself on branches and the blackcap bushes that had clearly given the trail its name, the scales even protecting her from the thorns. She kept throwing Ben smug looks over it, and Rook, Kevin, and Martin kept giving her thumbs up when the hero wasn’t looking. None of them had forgotten or forgiven his ‘no decent people with scales’ comment yet.

It wasn’t until they found the path again that they returned to talking.

“So, she probably did it to herself,” Gwen said. “That’s sad, and worrying.”

“In her defense,” Rook replied, “I am sure she did not expect to start eating passersby. Right?” Eyes went to Kevin, who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, I met Dalen once and we didn’t exactly get close. If she was anything like Roy probably not?”

“Still not know about other snake,” Java pointed out. He was right too, they had no clue what was going on with that one. The best case scenario was that it was another of the missing people, bringing the Presumed Dead count down to seven, but they just couldn’t know. For all the information they had it could be a male attracted by Dalen’s presence, or a newcomer that prompted her own transformation. The worst possibility was that somebody had made them against their wills, but since so far Martin had said nothing about that being an option everyone was setting it aside. He and Gwen were the magic users around, after all, and surely they would’ve let the others know if that was something that might have happened.

“Hopefully,” Diana said, “the Center can figure out who they are.” If they could give some sort’ve closure to the families, tell even one mother that their child was alive even if they’d never come home, then that would make the effort of learning, of catching them alive, worth it. Idly she wondered if the pack had already been told of Dalen’s fate.

“Sure they can.” Martin’s grin was bright, though behind it was dead seriousness. He may have been a goofball, but his job was important and he treated it as such when the chips came down. “With all the stuff we’ve got access to? There’s no way they can’t.” Up ahead on the path, Rook nodded.

“Or at least no reason we cannot find somebody who can.”

Four turned out to be their lucky number. Both the Uktena were there, their bulk coating the surface of a massive stone jutting out over one of the area’s many streams. Their scales shone in the sunlight, dark and rainbowed and beautiful, while their Ulun'suti glinted and seemed to almost glow in the light. Under better circumstances it would have been a wonderful sight, two great dragons warming themselves. A sight for life long memories. One for photos.

Thankfully they didn’t seem to hear the click of a phone.

“Kevin!” Half the group hissed as one, careful to keep their voices down. They were gathered in the shrubbery near the bottom of the stone, just far enough away to avoid being immediately noticed.

“What?” he whispered, replacing the phone in his pack, “Her mom will want this.” With a round of sighs the others shook their heads, turning their attention back to the Uktena pair.

“Is this normal?”

“Maybe? Who knows, I’ve only read about these things and one of them is an Ossy.”

“Okay, do we all remember the plan?” Rook looked around at the group as best he could- Java had been forced to hide further back due to his size, and Kevin would’ve been too if he and the girls hadn’t been first to the spot, which meant he had to somehow check around that bulk on top of all the foliage everywhere- and was glad to see nodding and thumbs up all around. “Alright. Spread out, make sure they cannot slip away if they get loose. And be careful.”

They all were as quiet as they could be as they acted, avoiding loose stones and twigs, taking their time now that they could confirm that the snakes weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Gwen and Ben headed one direction, while Martin, Diana, and Rook headed in the other. Kevin and Java stayed more central, a solid foundation behind the targets. As soon as everyone appeared to be in position, Ben dialed the Omnitrix and slammed down his selection, erupting again in a blaze of bright green light that faded away to reveal Wildvine already digging his roots into the stony shores.

At the sudden flash the Uktena both leapt into action, rearing straight up as their heads swung to see the source. A hiss left the one that was Dalen, body tensing as her companion tilted their head. The action caused the gem between their eyes to glint and gleam, and the group all were careful to avoid looking at it, keeping their eyes on the antlers, the jaws, anywhere else on them. Except for Wildvine, who simply laughed at the attempt as the reflection off the crystal played across his face.

“Got you there,” he said with a wide grin, “Wildvine can’t be hypnotized!”

The pair seemed to be surprised by the new development, though with snake faces who could tell. Still, they didn’t surge forward in vicious strikes like before, but instead stayed in place, eyeing the young hero with caution. Wildvine took the opening. He reached over his shoulders, tearing seed pods from his back and hurling them towards the snakes. As soon as the first few hit the serpents took action, moving to put distance between themselves and this strange foe they couldn’t bring to heel, but it was too late. The moment they began to move the seedpods sprouted, issuing forth thick, knobby green vines that wove themselves around Uktena and rock both.

“See? Easy!” The rest of the group crept out of hiding carefully, eyes locked on the captured serpents.

“I’d feel a lot better if that hold was tighter…” The grip didn’t look secure. Dalen was held mostly to the stone as she struggled, but the other one, not so much. It strained upward, and though it didn’t get far one could imagine the sound of vines creaking and straining against its strength.

When they finally failed it was one after the other down the creature’s back, like watching a zipper come undone.

“Shit!” Everyone scrambled back again as the vines on the Uktena fell away and it surprised them all by turning not towards its attackers but towards Dalen. In two massive bites it tore through the vines holding her head and neck, leaving her free to repeat its earlier vine bursting maneuver. That job done, it finally tuned back to Wildvine, lunging forward in an attack he was just barely able to dodge, and twisting back on itself to trap the Tennysons in the coil of its body. Dalen, meanwhile, surged in the opposite direction, throwing herself among the rest of the team with a loud hiss and a brandishing of fangs and antlers. Everyone who could scattered, trying to avoid being victim to either the weapons or bulk of the beast.

She lashed out with tail and fang, swung her antlers in wide arcs when too close to lunge, thrashing like she wanted to get at all of them at once. Probably she did. It was impossible to get a bead on her, not when she was moving about so wildly, not when she was staying in such close proximity to them, not when they were trying so hard not to be caught in the shine of the Ulun'suti in the sun. Java caught Martin as a swinging tail launched him into the air. Rook’s call to fall back was almost lost in the sound of heavy scales on stone and the splashing of all these creatures in the water.

“A little help here?!”

“We’ve kinda got our own problems!” Zed at least was able to come to the Tennyson’s aid, charging forward to drive her teeth into the tail of the other Uktena while the others were too caught up in not being eaten by Dalen, and keeping a tight grip even as it tried to fling her off and into the woods. If nothing else, it gave the cousins an opening- for Gwen to distract it with blasts to the face and belly and for Ben to dial up an option that would hopefully have an easier time subduing the creature. In another flash the roots and greenery of Wildvine disappeared and were replaced with the shining form of Diamondhead.

“If somebody could get them on the ground, this time it should work!”

“It better!” Martin dodged another swing of Dalen’s antlers as he and Rook bolted for the other serpent’s tail, leaping up to try to drag it down with sheer weight. Diana and Kevin ran to try to do the same with the head, the hybrid reaching out to get a thick coating of the stone as they cut under it on their way to where Gwen was using her magic to drag the thing into their range. Java, meanwhile, was taking on the dangerous job of trying to keep Dalen from going after the rest of them.

It wasn’t working.

As soon as she realized her companion was being dogpiled she surged back over the top of the stone, mouth gaping wide to snap up somebody, anybody, in front of her. Java clung to her middle, digging in his heels as best he could, Gwen throwing up a quick shield to prevent her from managing the foot of distance more she needed to reach the rest of the team. Quickly she was in on the battle between caveman and serpent, Java doing his best to slowly drag Dalen backwards away from the group while Gwen used her magic to keep her from doubling back and tearing into Java like a ripe fruit. It was a vicious game of tug-of-war, where a slip by either of the heroes could easily get all of them killed.

On the other side of things, Operation Dogpile was working. Kevin and Diana had distracted the snake long enough for Martin, Rook, and Zed to get his tail to the ground, and together their own weight was enough to keep its head on the ground as well. Diamondhead, through this, solidified each little victory with a barrage of crystal, a preliminary cage as the massive shards briefly cut off movement away from him. This wasn’t a solid solution though. The crystals were stronger than vines, yes, but here and now was not the place to take half-measures. Once the snake was under some degree of control he began phase two, calling up huge, thick sheets of crystal from the ground. Five locking the head in place, with one before the snout, while hordes of others ran down the serpent’s length, with gaps between them only large enough for those clinging to it to slip free.

At which point Dalen went ‘fuck this’. Where before she had been struggling to pull herself free of Gwen’s magic long enough to tear Java off her midsection, now she instead suddenly surged forward towards the girl, shocking her into breaking her hold and Java into loosening his grip. She almost soared over Diamondhead’s head, curling herself around her companion’s and trying to bite through the crystal holding them. Inside the crystal cage, Kevin and Diana were beginning to lose the breath they’d been holding in an attempt to not be poisoned and Diana, much like Dalen, immediately decided to take action.

That action was punching the Uktena in her dead eye.

With a violent hiss the beast pulled back, giving her head a brief shake and what could only be a glare to those assembled before disappearing into the forest as suddenly as she had first appeared the day before.

They were alone again. Sort’ve.

“Everyone in one piece?” Ben asked in unison with Java’s “Martin and Diana alright?”

“Fine over here,” Martin said as he, Rook, and the dog all slid free of the cage. “Sis?”

“We’re okay,” Diana responded.

“Nice jab.” Kevin gave her a grin as she helped him squeeze free of the crystal and she gladly returned it.

“Thanks, my mom taught me.”

“Awesome.”

“So,” Gwen said, heaving a sigh as everyone gathered on and around the rock to check their injuries- only scrapes and bruises, thank god, though Kevin and Diana worried everyone with some coughing they insisted was nothing major- and look out over their catch, “what do we do now?”

“We call the Center,” Diana said, she, Martin, and Java lumping together protectively as the Tennyson team did the same, “then we go find the other one.” As one the group looked at the Uktena they’d already caught. It wasn’t struggling anymore, having seemingly accepted that there was no escape from it’s current predicament, and instead was staring them down with it’s dark, dark eyes. Ben took a deep breath as, in a flash of green, he turned back into himself, and fixed the team with a self-assured smile.

“We’ve totally got this.”

The team split up. Not for long, just so somebody was there to wait for the Center’s monster transport squad to show up while the others made sure they had a trail they could follow. In theory it wasn’t difficult, she was a sixty-foot snake for fuck’s sake, but she was a sixty-foot snake that had been an Osmosian, which was the universe’s way of challenging a hunter.

“How did she make the trees here hold her?”

“I don’t know. I saw Kay do that sort’ve thing once, but he’s never taught me.” Humming under his breath, Java stepped away from Kevin and Rook and began scaling one of the trees that appeared to have greatly suffered under the weight of what they were assuming was Dalen. At least, the damage appeared fresh enough for that. He was careful with his steps, even as the other boys gathered at the base of the trunk to break his fall should he do so, and stayed mindful of the damage already done. When he reached as far as he felt he safely could, the caveman cast his gaze at the trees around them.

“Trail go,” he said slowly, pointing, “that way.”

“Alright.” Rook nodded, gesturing Kevin forward. They had Zed with them, and hopefully soon they would find a spot where Dalen had returned to the ground and the Baskurr could pick her scent back up. “Are you staying in the trees, or rejoining us down here?” Java took a moment to think about it, looking over the path through the trees. It seemed solid enough. Hopefully.

“Java stay in trees, keep others on track.” Another nod from the alien and a smile.

“Lead the way then.”

Everyone was back on the ground when the others found them again, having tracked them with Gwen’s magic, as planned, and made a beeline rather than following the Uktena’s path. Zed was back on the scent and tense at Kevin’s side as they all reconnected.

“The other one taken care of?” he asked, trying to keep the dog calm with long strokes down her neck. Gwen nodded.

“They’re going to find a space for them in the jungle,” she said, “and for Dalen once we get her.”

“Good.”

“Okay everybody,” Martin said, smiling and stretching, “get ready for Round Two.”

“Electric Boogaloo.”

“Rook, please don’t.”

The moment Zed started growling was déjà vu all over again. It wasn’t the same little valley, not the same river, and there was no concrete path leading ominously down into the shade, but it certainly felt the same. There were no trees down there, only dense underbrush. Thick masses of green bushes, grasses, vines, waist high and more, coated the bank on both sides. The river itself was deep, dark, and fast moving. No birds or insects sang.

In the center of the water, one could just make out the tips of antlers sticking out into the open air.

“So, Diamondhead again?” Ben asked, careful to keep his voice down. They were all fairly certain they were out of striking range, but that didn’t mean they wanted for her to notice them before she absolutely had to. Gwen shook her head.

“I’m not sure that would work,” she said. “I mean, they’ve already proved they’re smarter than your average snakes.”

“Or at least more social,” Martin added.

“It might be easier this time,” Rook said, “with only one for us to dogpile on.”

“And then we can worry about getting poisoned and maybe drowning,” Diana pointed out. “The last plan worked, but if we can avoid anyone having to lie over this thing’s nose I think we should go for it.”

“I’m with Diana,” Kevin chimed in, “holding the head down by hand is too risky.” Martin was the first to nod, followed by the rest.

“You’ve got a point,” he said, then held up the U-Watch. “U-Watch has a grappling hook, I might be able to hold her in place so Gwen can put her to sleep.”

“My proto-tool also has one,” Rook added, “we can each go for an antler.”

“Okay,” Ben said, “but can you two hold her on your own?”

“Java help,” the caveman said, and Kevin piped up along with him.

“With the four of us, it’d be, well not easy but not impossible. Then you and Diana can hold the back end while Gwen works her magic.” Nobody looked entirely comfortable with the idea, but then that wasn’t something that had ever stopped any of them from doing their jobs before. Ben gave a short, empty laugh.

“Probably be easier to just kill her.” Kevin huffed.

“As long you’re the one to tell her mother.” The team went quiet for a beat, two beats.

“Let’s go with the grappling hook plan.”

“Good idea.”

Zed was sent down into the valley first, as bait, despite Kevin’s vehement protests. The thinking here was that 1) she was small and fast and more likely to outspeed Dalen than any of the rest of them were, and 2) out of them she had the most experience with this sort’ve thing thanks to her old owner. They hoped she would lure the serpent out of the river and into the open, so they could have an easier time getting hold of her without running such a high risk of getting pulled under and drowned.

The plan worked. Dalen surged out of the river as soon as Zed was in range, just barely missing the Baskurr on the first strike (and the clenching of Kevin’s jaw was nearly audible at that). In an instant Zed was twisting on her heels and charging back up the snake-made trail towards Gwen with what felt in the moment an endless mass of magical serpent close behind. As soon as the alien dog had reached Gwen’s side Phase Two of Operation: Rescue Dalen From Herself went into action. In a flash of light Ben was replaced with Four Arms and he leapt down from where he and Diana had lain in wait at the top of the near cliff acting as the valley wall, landing heavily by the tail of the beast and grabbing hold. Dalen, of course, couldn’t be having with that and began to turn on herself to strike at him, only for the rest of the boys to jump into action.

From their positions hidden in the brush on either side of the trail Martin and Rook sprang forward, each taking quick aim and launching their grappling hooks at the nearest antlers to themselves. The response was vicious, with Dalen immediately trying to rear back and take them off their feet, only to be stopped by Kevin and Java’s intervention, grabbing hold of the other boys and the lines tethering her and digging in their considerably heftier and stronger heels. Between the pairs- Martin and Kevin on her right, Rook and Java on her left- she soon found herself struggling to move her head more than a half-foot in any direction, each attempt causing the opposing pair to yank back as hard as they could to keep her in place.

That was Diana’s cue. It had been decided, just before the plan went into action, that using Four Arms meant Ben wouldn’t need the help keeping Dalen’s back end under control, which freed her to help in other ways. Such as making sure nobody was sunken into despair by the gem on the Uktena’s head. Leaping down from the top of the cliff, she landed squarely on the serpent’s back, using the extra balance her tail gave her to scramble up to her head. Once there, she wrapped legs and tail around Dalen’s throat as well as she could before hefting Gwen’s now empty pack across her face, quickly stretching to catch the second strap and hold it tight so the Ulun'suti was suitably covered. Now, truly, the creature was as subdued as the non-magic-users could safely get her, and it was up to the only magic-user let unoccupied to finish the job.

Backing up to get a better view, Gwen opened her spellbook to the appropriate page. Thankfully it was a simple one, requiring her to trace what to a novice would’ve seemed an intricate pattern in front of her, one that rested in the air in a series of glowing pink lines, and pushing it gently towards the serpent alongside a single word incantation.

“Quiescis.”

It was like the entire valley went still, silent seconds stretching into something that felt like hours. The others kept their tight holds as the Uktena just, sat there, unmoving. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she slowly began to lower her head to the ground. They let her, each carefully releasing the breathes they’d held in anticipation as they loosened their grips and she curled in around herself, settling into a quietly coiled form in the brush. Nobody said a word for several moments. Diana slid from her back. Everyone watched the creature as if she may leap back up at any moment.

She didn’t.

“Yes!” With a series of whoops the whole team burst into massive grins. Java lifted Rook straight off his feet in a hug. Gwen burst into laughter, doubly so as Zed jumped up to lick at her face. A flash of light turned Ben back to himself in time to share a high five with Diana. Kevin threw an arm around Martin’s shoulder in a tight side-hug, a gesture Martin returned for about five seconds before realizing ‘proximity’ and ‘Kevin’ and trying to carefully edge away (it didn’t work) (“Have your crises on your own time, Mystery”). The relief that flooded the small valley was palpable as they crowed their victory, relishing in their safety, the Uktenas’ safety, and the public’s safety.

Everything was going to be fine.

“Good job, everyone,” MOM said as behind her Center employees carefully moved Dalen into a transport container, “thanks to you both Uktena will be moved to a reserve in South America where they won’t be any further threat to the public.”

“I’m sure Dalen’s family will be happy to know she’ll be safe, at least,” Diana said. Ben then chimed in.

“And, the other one, you’re going to find out who they are, right?”

“We’re going to try,” MOM said. “We can’t promise we’ll succeed, but we’re going to try.” The Tennysons didn’t look convinced, but before they could say anything Kevin tossed in a quick

“It’s better than the Plumbers have ever managed.” -and there really wasn’t a way for them to counter that.

“You should all be very proud of yourselves.” And with that MOM simply turned away, a final compliment before she gave her attention back to the people doing the transporting, leaving the team to their own selves once again.

“About that,” Martin said, grinning and holding out a hand for a professional shake, “great spellwork, Gwen. A resting spell rather than a sleeping spell, nice last-minute switch.” She laughed and accepted the shake.

“Thanks,” she said. “Kevin’s family may be tough enough for him not to worry about, but I really didn’t want to risk mine. And since you were so happy to see it in the book last night it was pretty close to the front of my mind.” Somehow Martin’s grin got wider.

“Awesome!”

“You guys all were great,” Ben said, stepping forward with Rook right behind him in action and word.

“We would love working with you again.”

“Hopefully with something involving less hypnotic snakes,” Gwen made sure to add. With a grin of her own Diana laughed.

“Tell me about it,” she said, “if I never see another one in my life it’ll be too soon.”

“And what about Osmosians who aren’t snakes?” Kevin asked, “‘cause I still gotta go fill in Dalen’s family, if you all wanna join me?”

They kind of did.

Turned out to find the pack you had to go down a well-hidden back road into an area of the park you could hardly even see from the main roads. Eventually you came to a dirt parking lot, half full of pick-ups and SUVs, and from there followed a trail down into one of the park’s biggest valleys. There were plenty of impressed whistles as Kevin pointed out things like the likely primary sunning spots for the pack, or explained how this massive cliff was likely run through with miles of tunnels and dens given the size of it and the age of the pack who lived there. At the base of the cliff, at the end of the trail, they found a large clearing with buildings built against the stone and so, many, people.

It wasn’t the whole pack by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still more than most of the group had been expecting. They’d figured Aaron and John- who were there, so at least they had those familiar faces- maybe the poor woman’s parents, mates perhaps, but it seemed that whole family branch was waiting on them. Everyone, from fluff covered children to the elderly, and in a variety of combinations from ‘totally all Ossy’ to ‘what are humans doing here?’ Most of the latter turned out to be relatives from the tribe, joined with their family to catch the news about their missing cousin.

The mood hadn’t been good when they arrived, everyone already knowing the news wasn’t likely to be happy. In fact, it’d improved slightly when they’d explained that Dalen wasn’t dead or kidnapped, just, well, turned into a giant snake and gone to live in the wilds and eat people. This was, apparently, considered at least semi-reasonable by the Osmosian side of things, even if the humans involved were very concerned and needed to be reassured that she and the other Uktena were being moved somewhere they couldn’t cause any problems. At which point they’d then had to reassure everybody that the Center could be trusted to move an Ossy, giant horned serpent or no.

Half an hour they were, just on “no, really, it’s cool, she’s gonna be fine, and we’re keeping an eye on it just in case anyway”. Paranoia apparently didn’t just run through the blood, it galloped.

The group found themselves invited to an early dinner, which quickly proved itself to also be a sort’ve wake. It seemed everybody had a story to tell about Dalen as they clustered at the edge of the clearing, drinking homebrew and eating a meal featuring heavily salted meat. A good meal, to the point Java and Kevin were both clamoring for some of the recipes (Martin and Diana had resigned themselves to a lifetime with regular bean bread from the caveman’s first bite), though it would’ve been better if they hadn’t all been served enough bear to kill a man. Apparently, it was the highest calorie food there and they were ‘all still growing’.

By the end of things more of the pack had come out to join them and the stories stopped being just about Dalen. Everyone had some tale to tell, whether they were traditional stories, tales of strange happenings, or the group telling story after story of their adventures. About wars, about hauntings, about survival in desolate landscapes and mad science gone horribly wrong. And when the stories got too scary for the little ones there were Java and Rook, off to the side telling them Revonnahan fairy tales and reciting Shakespeare comedies.

Half of the kids refused to go to bed until Java promised to come back sometime with his sock puppets and tell the stories properly. Another quarter had to be reminded that no, they could not go to Canada or Revonnah immediately, their families would miss them.

Again, the group stayed the night in the park, this time set up in a guest house that pointedly did not open into any of the tunnels or dens. Nobody even considered being offended, not with the (apparently reasonable?) paranoia, and their hosts made sure they had plenty of good food and water to keep them into morning. Many thanks followed them when they left the next day- for their stories, for coming to help, for not turning immediately to killing one of their own like so many outsiders would’ve done. (“I’m still not sure about that, I mean an Uktena-” “Pack.” “…...why do I even try?”) It was a great service they’d done both pack and tribe and there was no way they could leave without their gratitude having been made blindingly clear.

Still, nearly all of them agreed that the whole smoked turkey each was given was maybe going a bit overboard.

According to Kevin it was another Ossy thing.

So, they rolled with it.

Everything always seemed boring after a mission. Didn’t matter if the team was settling back in at Torrington, or at home over the holidays, that juxtaposition between being off in amazing places experiencing new things and fighting monsters and magic and returning to normal life was always jarring. Like stepping off a boat only for your body to suddenly realize that the ground was stable. But if he had to come back to anywhere, he was always glad when it was home, where he could retreat into his own little haven of weirdness.

His room at the Lombard-Mystery house made the one at Torrington look like Diana’s.

Their parents had long given up on being able to see the floor and now just accepted that it would always be ankle deep in everything from dirty underwear to magical talismans to rogue Yu-Gi-Oh! cards. Though not food, not since the day their mom had actually brought out a flamethrower and brandished it in the direction of his door. Every square inch of wall space was covered in posters from various B-movies and sports events, and one massive mural of Hedorah he’d painted when he was twelve and was still way too proud of. The shelves strained under the weight of comic books, reference books, horror stories by everyone from Lovecraft to Ravenheart, and figurines of Digimon nobody would’ve ever expected to be able to find figurines for. Truly the only mostly-clear surfaces in the room were his bed, which was only half storage, and his desk, which held only a lamp flanked by figures of PlatinumNumemon and Raremon.

That gave him just enough space to continue his various studies into the weird and unusual and, most importantly, the magical, as he was doing at the moment. He’d come home, greeted his parents, regaled them with the story of he, Diana, and Java’s adventure (while Diana stood to the side, butting in every time he was explaining how awesome he was, the spoilsport), and ever since had been buried in his spellbook. There were so many new spells in it thanks to Gwen and he was absolutely enraptured. There was nothing quite the same as learning new magic and it would’ve taken a miracle to drag him away.

Or his phone going off, as the case may be.

Honestly even that didn’t really work. He didn’t even put down the turkey sandwich he’d made himself (they had too much turkey, somebody had to get rid of it), just pulled his phone out of his pocket blind, eyes still locked on the book.

“Hello, Martin Mystery speaking.”

“Hey Martin.” Finally, his attention was got. He didn’t look away from the book, but at least he stopped hunching over it.

“Tonio! Hey, how’s it going man?”

“Boring, for the most part. I might actually be starting to miss your antics.”

“Ouch. Terminal boring then.”

“Yep. If I don’t make it to the end of summer I’ve asked Mom to send you my comic collection.”

“Truly you’re the best friend.”

“I know.” There was a pause and Martin could’ve sworn he could hear the creak as Tonio leaned his chair back. He steeled himself, that always came with added teasing. “So, Diana said you guys went out of town.” Wait, since when did Diana have Tonio’s number? Since when did they talk? Exactly what sort’ve stories were they exchanging behind his back, and he knew if they were talking they were.

“Yeah,” Martin said, not letting on the sudden wariness he was feeling, “was pretty cool. Food was great, Java’s probably gonna be serving it in the cafeteria for half of next year.”

“Nice, nice,” he could almost see his friend nodding along in his mind’s eye, “she also said you met a cute guy.” No. Nope. Nada.

“I did not.” He was going to kill her.

“Really? She said you practically drooled.”

“That’s because she’s a liar. I know you don’t know this, but it’s a chronic thing with sisters.” She could forget college, she wasn’t even going to last to fall.

“It’s cool, man, there’s nothing wrong with you finding a guy you like. I was happy having a straight friend, but I can deal.” Scratch that, Martin was going to die, of embarrassment, right there at his desk. “Just don’t start flirting with me or anything.” He scoffed, huffed, and tore into his sandwich with feeling.

“Oh please, you couldn’t handle this much man.”

There was a loud thud on the other end of the line as Tonio fell to the ground laughing.

~*~

In the mid-afternoon a young Osmosian wanders the game trails that crisscross his pack’s territory. His dark and striped skin blends him in well with the mottled sunlight coming through the leaves and fragrant berries and flowers help to cover his scent from the prey he stalks. The goal is a deer, a plump young buck at best, to present as a gift to the object of his affections. A fresh kill, his own lone work, to show his attraction and dedication.

He can taste the remnants of one as easily as he can smell it. Somewhere in the area, he’s certain, is a spot where they sleep, and if he can find it and hide himself properly there then the kill will be easy.

What he doesn’t expect is to catch the scent of something else, something familiar yet unknown, running across the trail. Despite every warning his family has drilled into his head- about other packs, about poachers, about being seen without a disguise- curiosity wins out and pulls him off the trail and into the underbrush as surely as a hook through his nose. The tracks are old, the trail cold, but there’s still enough for a talented youth to follow. Enough to lead him onward, and onward, until nearly an hour has passed.

There’s a cave at the end of the trail. Not suitable for starting a new denning site, the roots of nearby trees are too thick and too close, there’s no room to expand. But still, inside he can taste life. Familiar life. Strange life. It’s with great caution he inches forward to see what there is to find.

The sight is one he knows well from checking on his relatives, on his sisters. A good dozen spheres of speckled grey rest in a depression in the dirt. Each is the size of a basketball, easily the largest he’s ever seen. There may even be more in the darkness, though he doubts it to look at them. Space there may be, but nothing else. Still, more or no, this is something for which he’ll need help, that the older members of the pack should know about, and so he turns and runs back down the faint trail with all the speed he can gather.

Several of the eggs are still glowing.

#fanfic #martin mystery #ben 10 #commissionwork #achi does commissionwork #like hell i'm tagging all the characters in this #i tried to be as respectful and accurate in my use of the uktena as i could so hopefully it came out right

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webgeekist · 7 years

Text

Holiday Karma Pie

I paid for someone’s groceries today.

I didn’t do it for the karma. I didn’t even do it for the charity. I did it because the lady in front of me was having technical issues, and the less-than-$30 bill was worth sparing my sanity and getting out of that line. I played it off as a Christmas thing, asked the lady to pay it forward, and assured her that, yes, I was serious when I said it was no big deal. It wasn’t. I was happy to pay to get out of there.

I have a habit of picking the worst grocery lines. I thought, for a while, it was just this new place I’m in, but then I went home for Thanksgiving and went through 20 minutes of hell waiting for the family in front of me to finish arguing with the cashier about the $20 in savings they weren’t getting because their coupons weren’t scanning, or whatever other nonsense was preventing them from scanning an entire conveyor belt full of items, $200 and two carts into the bill. We moved to another line, finally, when one seemed available nearby. When we left with our own hefty bill in the cart, they were still there, slowly scanning the rest of their items.

I am also the person who will pick up the one item out of 100 without a bar code, and take three of them to the checkout lane.

It’s funny, this idea that you can buy karma with good deeds, as if your motivations don’t count. I’ve seen The Good Place. I know better than that. My motivation today was entirely self-serving, as is most charity in this country. We overwhelmingly donate our time or our money because it makes us feel better about ourselves, not because we genuinely care about giving. We’re scared into doing the “right thing” by a book that has been mistranslated and misinterpreted for centuries, and somehow have this warped idea that doing the right thing will buy us grace. Good Karma. A spot in heaven. Optimal reincarnation. At the end, there’s always something in it for us.

I’m no better than others in that regard. I do good deeds infrequently, and when I do, it’s almost always born of convenience. “Would you like to pay an extra 63 cents to round up your bill and donate to the Children’s hospital?” Sure. “Would you like to donate a dollar to aid in wildfire relief for Sonoma County?” Whatever. “Give a dollar to homeless pets?” Okay. “Save free information!” Click.

The result is positive for the recipient. That doesn’t make the motive for donation genuine.

And it doesn’t make the universe less likely to balance out your good luck with misfortune.

I think about that a lot. I’m always grateful for the positive experiences in my life, but I’m hyper aware of the fact that they often come at a premium. There’s a trade owed the universe, and you will pay it in painful ways. Maybe it’s a hard lesson you need to learn after you land your dream job. Maybe it’s illness, recovery, and loss after you find a few years of companionship. Maybe it’s your family turning their back on you a month before your wedding to the love of your life. And oh, by the way, she’s a girl and you are, too.

I’ve enjoyed two years with my fiancée. I marry her in 23 days. How many of my family will actually show up? At this point, I’m not sure.

I took a job in the Bay Area in July. It wasn’t so sudden that my fiancée didn’t have input. She absolutely did, and though we didn’t expect to be able to afford Northern California, we’re happy we could make this work. Or, at least, that we will make this work after June, which is when her teacher’s contract runs out in Texas. I’ve raked up so many frequent flyer miles, going back and forth every spare moment, and in the airspace between SFO and DAL, I’ve uncovered an anxiety I never expected to have: a fear of flying.

I have flown a Cessna. I have logged hours in a genuine full-scale 737-700 simulator. My dad was a professional pilot at one point in his life, my uncle still is, and all his kids can fly. My grandfather flew for the Thunderbirds. My brother is on his way to being a commercial pilot. I am not afraid of planes.

I started crying and choking before walking through security. I panicked when I booked tickets. If not for some of them being booked immediately after I got the job, I would not have gotten on a plane after September, but I’ve been on five trips since, fifteen total, and for most of them the what-ifs and potential loss has consumed me to the point of paralysis. Every bump and adjustment on takeoff freaks me the fuck out. The changing sounds of the engines at different altitudes and powers freaks me the fuck out. It’s taken every moment of every one of those harrowing trips to learn how to manage the anxiety, to rationalize the noises I hear from the engines, to normalize the dips and turns out of each Bay Area airport, but come Thanksgiving, when I climbed on a plane for the first long break I’d gotten at the new company, when I was so over the project I was working on that I was relieved to be standing at another fucking gate and boarding another fucking plane, all the stress management techniques I’d gathered in my anxiety did nothing to stop me from experiencing sheer terror flying out of SJC, meeting some bumpy air, banking to head south down the coast to catch a connecting flight out of LAX and bouncing around in the turn. I landed at SAT five hours later, cried in relief when the plane touched down (I always do, and I thank the plane for getting me there. That plane’s name was Tank. I gave it that name.), and stumbled into the terminal as fast as my eighth row seat would allow.

And then, I went to my family’s Thanksgiving.

I should precede this with the statement that the nine days my fiancée and I spent at my mom’s house started fairly early on with some culture shock. My fiancée is in grad school, and one of her class assignments was a “cultural plunge.” That’s a hilarious concept, because her entire life is a cultural plunge. She was born in Houston, but raised completely in India, went to college in Singapore, and came back to the states after. Living here has been one awkward learning experience after another, and with her brown skin, it’s also often been an experience of racism, of profiling, of assumptions made by ignorant people. She can’t go through an airport without getting her bag inspected and a pat-down (that happened once with my mother, and after we told her that no, my brown fiancée really does get profiled, and my mom damn near got herself arrested chewing the TSA agents out because how dare you treat her daughter like that. Yes, my mom is privileged. But, go Mom). Her background in science has often made living in Texas not unlike living on an alien world where logic and reason are outlawed. And oh, she’s a lesbian too. Discrimination trifecta.

Anyway, she submitted the idea of going to a Catholic Church on Sunday and staying for a mass as a cultural plunge, because unlike her white middle-class native Texan classmates, this was something she’d never done before.

I mean, what are the odds that they’d pick a gospel that would somehow relate to one of the many hot-button issues that any church in a red state could pick? The Pope is fairly liberal for a Catholic, and neither my mother nor I really remembered the sermons being terribly political.

Clearly, it’s been a while since we attended church.

My mother was horrified. Here was an opportunity for her to show her daughter-in-law a bit of her culture, and her upbringing, and therefore a bit of where my own morals and morality comes from. Here’s a chance for her to prove to me that the church of her childhood might have had these tenants but the sermons didn’t get into specifics, and people mostly just tried to Love Thy Neighbor.

I was pissed. I glared hard at the deacon as he climbed off the dais and walked back to his seat, and I’m certain he saw me. I’m certain he paused for a half-step because he saw my face, which I’ve been told can be really menacing when I’m angry. I don’t keep my emotions to myself very often. I don’t have a poker face like my fiancée.

She couldn’t muster that face. She was openly crying and trying not to show it. This church – this remarkably diverse church where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, which had epistles in three languages, which was holding a bake sale as we walked in had on its staff a white conservative deacon who took an unrelated Gospel and warped it into a hateful political rant that didn’t hit one button. Oh no. That sermon was an IED array and it hit every single freaking target on the list.

We left during the Eucharist, and we didn’t buy a pie on the way out.

Five days after this experience that left us all in a drinking mood, and which after several bottles of wine was still a little painful, we went to the Thanksgiving party with my dad’s side of the family.

A lot of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed genuinely excited about the wedding. There was a bit of a shadow over one of my aunts because her father is really, really ill. Dad and my stepmother told a story about my grandmother, the escape artist, who is probably a lot more together than they think but who was put in an old folk’s home for people with memory problems about two months ago. I dread going to see her because the last time I saw her in a rehab facility, after she knocked her head and suffered the brain trauma that probably drove a lot of the symptoms she still has, it was a little difficult. It’s not going to be easy to see her in a home that isn’t actually her house. She apparently agrees, because she treats visitors to a tour of the place and asks a lot of pointed questions, like how many nurses are at the front station and whether or not you think someone can get to the parking lot from any given set of doors. She’s an inmate in a place she doesn’t feel comfortable staying, and she’s already made it to her car with an overnight bag once. But they have the keys locked up. I think she’s trying to figure out where they are.

She recognizes me. Remembers my name. Knows the wedding is soon. Asks about California. Hugs my future wife. And maybe goes through a few names before she gets some of my cousins’ and uncles’ names right, but she’s been doing that since I was four. We’re a big family. She always gets it right in under six tries.

My aunt looks hesitant to talk about her father, but she does. Both of us listen as she expresses her fears about being away, even for a day or two, because the doctors haven’t been very precise in telling the family to “spend time with him while you can.” It could be days, or maybe months, but probably not through winter because winter seems to be when so many people go, like the warmth-starved land sucks them dry. Which is weird, because we’re all from South Texas, and winter there is like 80 degrees.

We sympathize, and a pang of something I have only been able to define recently shoots through me. It feels like mortality, and reminds me of my fear of flying. It reminds me that I have this thing, this person, this state of being that I found and eventually will lose, that the loss won’t come when I’m ready for it (because that is never. I will never be ready for it). My heart hurts for her and my cousins, because the man is in his 80s like my two surviving grandparents, and that is a long and accomplished life, but it is still too soon for all of them. We have fought for my grandmother often enough and recent enough that I understand that position, too.

Hours later, before the annual turkey bowl, that aunt and my uncle, plus their oldest son come find my fiancée and I in the upstairs game room where most of the cousins retreat after lunch and before football. They ask us both to come out onto the balcony with them for a few minutes. Their younger son, recently married, follows shortly after with his new bride.

And my cousin starts….with a prayer.

“Heavenly Father, please guide our conversation today in your wisdom and light.”

I have my fiancée’s hand in my own. I hold it tighter. I know where this is about to go.

My cousin is a stalwart, honest guy. He’s the eldest son of two people who have always given where they could. They drop what they’re doing to help people, simply because they need help. They give within their means, which are better means than most. Their big and open hearts were passed to two of their three sons, both of whom were standing on that balcony with them. But they are sinners, my cousin says, all of them. And he is no better than anyone. He cannot cast judgment upon sinners as one of them, as someone who has been addicted to pornography, and has crossed lines with women. He loves us both, they all do, but surely we’ve read what the Bible says and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

My uncle says to us, we love you. We will not change how we treat you…but we’ve prayed about this for a while, and we can’t go to the wedding.

“We can’t celebrate the sin,” my cousin says.

And I know they love us, the best way they know how. I told them that I understood their perspective, though I disagreed, and respected their decision. We hugged, my aunt called me big-hearted, someone mentioned chocolate (it might have been me), and they started filing off the balcony.

I stayed behind and broke down in my fiancee’s arms.

See, my family had been outwardly accepting until that moment, when something finally broke enough for the first people to say something about it. And my fiancée – my tall, brown, “foreign” fiancée who has tried so hard to get my family to like her – felt instantly like all that effort had been for absolutely nothing. And I? I felt guilty for putting her in that position, for forcing us into a position where my family may never truly be okay with any of this, where a lifetime of loving and supporting each other so demonstratively may yet be lost on so many people I love, because somehow our relationship all boils down to sex to some people. Theirs is about love, but ours is about sex, and lust, and sin, and how the context of the Bible may be all about polyamorous lustful activities but a committed, loving, monogamous relationship between two women is just the same as sexually abusing guests and having orgies in front of idols and a really vague Greek word which in context probably means “men who sleep with boy prostitutes” but magically includes all people who engage in the act of sodomy and well never mind that you’re not actually doing that you’re just the same as the literal “man bed” who will not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Maybe karma can keep that paradise, because I don’t want to spend eternity in a place where loving companionship is the same as assault. I get enough of that in the news.

It took me a while to come out of the bathroom I found to hide in, because there was no amount of water that could bring the redness down, and eventually my fiancée brought my closest cousin to find me. She saw us walk out, she counted the time, and she knew something had gone wrong. We told her what had happened.

This is the brewing rift. There are some people in our family who sit in Catholic services every Sunday and are not only going to the wedding but are genuinely excited for it. And there are some who might yet show up, but will be at the bar a lot.

Those excited for it will probably not enjoy learning why so many of us are absent. What happens then is probably not high drama, but probably won’t be business as usual either. Said my closest cousin, “I don’t know what to do with them now. You have a bigger heart than me for walking out of that situation without coming downstairs and telling everyone about it immediately.”

Twice in one day, in different contexts, two people I care about made reference to my perfectly normal sized, potentially smaller than average heart. Karma revealed the consequences of my good fortune that night, and they continue to unfold by the minute. For the first time in my life, I may miss Christmas with that side of the family this year. I suspect it won’t be the last thing we miss.

I climbed on the plane to come back to California two days later, and cried over the root of the problem with all these flights: the separation has been torture, and after the emotional week we had, it was going to be hard for us to heal apart. I put on my noice-canceling earphones and turned on Radiolab just before takeoff. It was a podcast about a girl without an identity, whose family kept her sheltered and off the grid, who didn’t have any kind of paper trail because her parents didn’t believe in social security numbers, and so never let her have one. I flew over Kerrville, where she had lived most of her life, while listening to the story. Takeoff was smooth. So was most of the trip back to SJC. And except for a really rough patch of air over New Mexico on the way to Dallas on Friday, my flights this weekend were just as painless.

I landed at SFO on Sunday and thanked the plane, as usual.

My eyes were dry.

#look it's been a while and this is really personal but there you have it #lgbtq+#marriage #personal essay

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