#milo squawks

[as-tro-nauts]

<3 freaky spider guy <3

Milo Mortar belongs to @escargoingtohell :D

[hamlets-ak]

seaside sanctuary ༊*·˚

synopsis: during your vocation on a greek island, you and timothée spend some time on a secluded beach

The magic of Milos had settled over you gently and clingingly with its volcanic rock formations and golden shores. Not even two weeks had passed since the day you and Timothée arrived on the island, and you had already become one with the locals; traveling in all its cryptic passages and discovering the heart of the town.

You had found happiness in simple and frugal things like walking along pebbled pathways and marble streets with your boyfriend’s palm inside yours, fingers conjoined and tangled, quick pecks on the cheek and forehead, small glances and furtive smiles, soft laughs, warm or cold hugs, his head balancing tiredly on your shoulder and yours burying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

It was Timothée’s idea to invite your families since you had only a month at your disposal before returning back to work and it was an opportunity to spend some time with them. Besides, it was such a beautiful trip, you had to share this unrepeatable experience. 

Altogether you traveled with your sailboat around the island and stayed on secluded beaches, accessible only by the sea. Hours and hours had been spent under the sun; swimming, snorkeling, laying on the deck, enjoying the sunset at anchor. 

Blazing afternoon sunrays penetrated your skin and blinded your vision, as the briny breeze fanned your face, pulling back strands of salty hair, tangling them with the blowing fair wind. 

The Aegen was opening around you; a sapphire-colored sea that touched the line of the sky, extending to a wild yet quiet horizon. It was summer and the world was in a splendor. 

Your arms were leaning on the silver railings of the boat and your gaze was up in the bright blue veil, watching the seagulls fly high and dive at the water, then rising up again, squawking loudly to each other. 

A burst of familiar boisterous laughter led your eyes to the back at the cockpit. You couldn’t help but smile before even allowing your stare to pierce that dirty glass, only at the sound of his voice. Your head slowly fell to the side and stayed balanced on top of your shoulder. 

Timothée’s radiant smile made you unconsciously laugh a little. And he must've noticed because even through the thick glass and the heavy blanket of water and salt covering it, he stared back at you with an electrifying glint and grinned widely as he bent down to knock at the glass a few times and then waved at you. 

« Let’s go! », he told you. 

You pushed yourself off the railings. Hushed murmurs accompanied by melodious giggles forced you to change your gaze from scenic islets and coves to a small group of people. Barefoot and sun-dazed, their hearts still left in the old pirates’ hideout, Kleftiko, your parents and Pauline, were laying relaxed on the boat. Their swimsuits were on, bodies still wet from their previous dive, drying under shining sunrays. Green beer bottles with the word ‘Mythos’ written on their lebels were reflecting golden beams of light, as cigarettes burnt in the air alongside sprinkles of brine and rust.

« Pauline? », you called her name. She sat better at her elbows and raised her eyes that were covered with black shades. « You’re coming? »

« Nah, » she replied throwing her head back. « I’m tired. I’ll just stay here and take a nap. Have fun though. » You nodded at her words and moved slowly and steadily to the back, hands holding tightly the ropes of the boat.

« Hey, » Timothée grinned at you. 

« Hi, » you greeted him and the Captain. « Where are we right now? »

« We are at Sykia, » Timothée replied. He wrapped his arm around you, letting it fall loose on your shoulder as he held you.

« Yeah that’s right, » the Captain spoke with his heavy Greek voice that held a melodious tone only people from Cyclades had. « Once you pass that tunnel, you’ll end up in the cave, » he pointed in the direction you were already looking at. Timothée nodded in understandment, arms snaking in your lower spine, bringing you closer to his body. « And when you get inside, you'll notice that a part of the roof of the cave is missing. It was submerged years ago and now there is a kind of natural skylight. »

« Oh that’s cool, » you said turning to the scenery while Timothée’s nose was mindlessly circling your cheek and temple, tracing soft lines over your brow. Sun kissed your faces and drifted at the space between, giving away a sheen. 

« It is cool, » the Captain continued. « I mean, what are you even doing in Milos if you haven’t visited Sykia? » You both lightly laughed at his words as you took Timothée’s hand in yours and pressed a pair of soft lips on top of it before he lightly patted your cheek with his hand making you grin, melting at his warm touch, and hug him tight. 

You had anchored close to the cave, less than half of a nautical mile. Waves were luring the boat along with them giving it a soft waft. 

Timothée waited for you to approach the edge of the boat before jumping off the stern into a calm steady sea with a thunderous splash that sprinkled you from head to toe, and then paddled the water. Quickly he emerged, throwing his head back and pulling pieces of hair that were stuck on his forehead, out of his face. With cold water stinging your skin, you lightly stepped back gasping.

« Come in! », Timothée laughed and motioned his head to you.

« It’s cold! », you slouched your shoulders, arms wrapped around your stomach. You glanced back regretting your decision of not staying with Pauline to take a nap as well.

« Come in! », he said in a more demanding tone. You bit your lips and shook your head. « I’m going to splash you. »

“No, you wouldn’t.”

« You sure about that? », he asked tossing a small wave of water in your direction. 

« Timothée, it’s cold! »

« I’ll splash you. » You looked at him for a few seconds. « I’ll do it. »

« Fine, » you groaned making him smile, and without much thought jumped into the sea. 

A freezing feeling struck then gradually consumed your body. Nothing but the sea was surrounding you and you kicked your feet through bitter water, gasping for air. You fought for a moment breathlessly to come to the surface and then looked at Timothée who was already a bit ahead of you.

« Wait, wait, wait! », you shouted at him. He stopped and turned around to look at you, as you paddled along the blue to be closer to him. Timothée couldn’t help but laugh, watching you all puffed, your legs weightless kicking an uncharted abyss below. 

Together you glided the blue, reaching the tunnel Captain told you about. Your head moved up too distracted from watching the brown-greenish rocks above your head. Tim pulled your hand and pressed a wet kiss on your cheek.

« Let’s go, » he said, his voice echoing loud all around as if coming from speakers.

The cave had no roof just like the Captain described it. Sun rays were lighting the inside of the cave, creating amazing colorations that enchanted you. It was a unique miracle every visitor should see. 

On the inside was a small pebbled beach, with rocks and crystal clear waters. There was no one there. Just the two of you.

Like true children of the sun, you swam in the idyllic calm and then ran to the pebbled shore, free, repeating the gestures of athletes of Delos.

« Aren’t you afraid it’s going to fall and crush us down? », you told him as your hands cupped in the air the part of the cave that was still up. Your bodies were close to each other, so close you could hear the smile forming on his lips.

« It’s been like that for so many years, why does it have to fall now that we are here? », he asked. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

« I’m just saying, » you mumbled. He breathed out heavily which made you turn in question. « What? », you looked at him.

« Oh, nothing, » he laughed a little, pulling back his wet hair. You kept staring at him for a few seconds watching droplets watering the rocks below you. 

« I’ve never been happier. » He wore a dreamful smile. « And I wish every day could be like that. »

« Like what? », his eyebrow slightly raised. Your mouth curled up thinking of your response as your gaze turned back to the crystal pure tapestry of the sky.

« Waking up together… making love… having breakfast… going for a walk… swimming… making love again and then having a bath together. » Your words caused a boyish grin to appear on his face and you imitated his expression. « Eating together, listening to music, watching the sunset… you laughing and me laughing because you are laughing… telling you how much I love you… »

« Sounds good to me, » he said and leaned to kiss your shoulder. You pouted your lips and looked down. Timothée frowned and then turned to the side, balancing on his one elbow, to take a better look at you.

« You won’t tell me how much you love me back? », you bit your lips trying not to smile. His face flushed at your mincing manner and how you pronounced the world ‘love’. He looked away.

« Oh, of course, I’ll tell you, » he bent lower his head and you tented your neck to catch his lips, your hand holding back his hair as he moved on top of you, dripping water running on your body. He breathed out hot air on your face making your head fall back trying to get some oxygen inside before returning to him, your heads touching and lips almost stitched together. 

« Y/N, » he said voice deep echoing inside you. « I really need you to know this. »

« You don’t have to say anything. »

« No, I have to, » Tim gulped. « You walked by chance into my very messy life and from day to day, I started to breathe better. Before you, without you, I loved nothing. With you, I have accepted more things. I have learned to live. That's probably why I’ve always mixed my love for you with so much gratitude. » Your mouth slightly opened and eyes glanced away. « I mean every word. »

Without warning you kissed him on the lips. He let out a muffled sound from the force with which your mouth touched his. 

« I wouldn’t have loved you any less, if you didn’t say anything, » you told him. Your stare was fixed on his plum reddish lips that tasted like salt and apricots and cherries. « But now that you did, all I can do is love you more. »

He smiled. His forehead brushed against yours as he let you lick away his grin and kiss him. First slow, sweet, soft; then harder, fiery, urgent, like a poem of Odysseas Elytis.

It was a true sisyphean work watching the way the lurking glint of your eyes and your wolfish grin dig up his most shameful secrets, without ripping the animal from within and burying himself in your streams of love and delicate words.

The waft’s stroke maneuvered between you, warm like a teenage memory, spreading sprinkles of salt and rust to the air. Bodies entangled in summer thunders, as the gentle splash of water on your toes offered a kind of peace, privacy, and safety that you had both missed. 

You flapped and then stayed there in comfortable silence. But as you watched the horizon slowly bleed from the crevice of the tunnel, Timothée couldn't think of the swollen sun, honeycombs, and wasted old summers.

The only thing he had in mind was how much he loved you, how much you loved him - because he knew that - and how much he couldn't wait any longer for you to live together forever.

You laid together, eyes gazing at the moon and the starlit sky, bodies hugging one another.

[romirola]

Aggro, Bob, and Cheese at the Vet

When @claracatlady shared the brilliant headcanon that William Solaire owns a pampered, spoiled ragdoll cat named Bob, I was inspired to imagine how Bob and Aggro would get along, resulting in this post, and then this post, and then even a few fics that feature cameo appearances by Bob. (This fic is complete, while this one is currently ongoing. Recently, though, @slushiepizza shared that they headcanon Guy and Honey adopted a cat named Cheese. Obviously, this development led me to wonder how this kitty trio might cross paths...

Despite their many differences in lifestyle, fur type, and preferred petting, Aggro and Bob are best friends. It's no surprise that during a playdate, Milo gives William the name and contact information of Aggro's feline-exclusive vet when William decides that he won't subject Bob to a waiting room full of barking dogs, squawking birds, and even the occasional ferret scurrying about the floor. By pure happenstance, Aggro ends up getting stung by a bee the same day as Bob has his first annual check-up.

The diagnoses? Aggro is going to be just fine, though he needs to stay the night due to the heavy bout of antibiotics he's on to prevent his eye from developing an infection. Bob is in tip-top shape, but due to the vet wanting to be thorough and get a baseline of Bob's health, he will have to stay the night to complete some bloodwork and wait for the results.

William and Milo are so sad to leave their sons at the vet, but their health comes first. So, after many goodbye kisses and pets, they leave with empty carriers, counting down the hours until they can pick up their cats again. They are supposed to return to pick them up around 4PM the following day.

Meanwhile, Bob and Aggro are settled into the back room. The staff takes very good care of all boarding patients, including a spacious cage, providing soft towels, a clean litter box, and nutritious food based on the cat's health.

But, still. It's the vet. And Aggro and Bob hate the vet. They hate being in this strange place, with strange people, who all smell and sound strange. It's awful, and neither cat has any problem making that displeasure known. They hiss and growl, swat and bite. If given the chance, they'll even make a break for it and try to escape into the examination rooms. When any staff member tries to do anything to Aggro or Bob, they have to wear big, thick gloves and sometimes, even try to get a mask over their eyes to "relax" them.

Neither Bob nor Aggro finds that mask relaxing. And, yes, they take it off.

Bob and Aggro happen to be placed in adjacent cages, facing a cage that is occupied by none other than Cheese, who is waiting patiently and quietly for her humans to come get her. She is a good girl. Guy and Honey always tell her so. She does not bite or claw, because that would be rude. The staff all speak nicely and softly to her, even if they are jamming some syringe full of icky-tasting liquid down her throat. When Cheese arrived at the vet, her paw really, really hurt when she walked on it. Now, her paw still hurt a little bit, but it was much better, so these different humans must have been doing something good.

Aggro, ever one to establish himself as alpha-cat no matter what kind of medication he was taking, yowls at this newcomer. He puffs himself up so that his gray fur stands on end, claws extended, as he side-hops around the edge of the cage. Bob is unamused, licking at the paw the vet tech had the gall to shave to draw blood from him.

Cheese stares at Aggro with odd fascination. She's not used to aggression in the slightest. "Me-rrow?" She pushes a ball towards Aggro, through the bars of his cage. Maybe if this gray cat batted around a ball, he'd feel better? Batting around a ball always made Cheese feel happy, especially when Guy chased it around with her

Aggro continues his tirade. Bob, however, suddenly grows attentive when he saw the ball hop out of Cheese's cage and onto the hard floor. Bob loves chasing balls around William's mansion. And suddenly, the fact that he was cooped up in a cage is quite an inconvenience. Ever one to handle inconveniences, Bob begins to scream his displeasure, begging for someone to procure that ball from him.

Cheese pulls her ears back at Bob's desperate cries. She flattens herself against the floor, long fur splaying out from her belly. All she had wanted to do was share her ball, and now these other cats were all upset.

Alarmed at his friends sudden change in demeanor, Aggro joins the calls, adding his own voice. The chorus of cries rang out loudly, echoing throughout the room and beyond.

Soon enough, Cheese, too, feels compelled to join in with the meowing. It looks fun, and she always wants to help. She let her own voice squeaky voice add a particularly desperate, pitiful tone to the song.

It doesn't take long for a human to come bursting into the room. "Oh my gosh, what is it?" they ask worriedly. "What's wrong? What?" They spot the ball on the floor. They quickly retrieve that ball and two others, giving one to each cat, before rushing off to an examine room. "Bye now! Be good!" they trill.

Silence falls over the room as Aggro, Bob, and Cheese enjoy the spoils of their vocal hunt...

...until the cats collectively realize the power that their voices held when together. Alone? They were powerless. But together?

They had this vet clinic at their beck and meow.

It's a long, long day for the staff. At 8:01AM, Milo, William, and Guy all receive the following phone call:

"Hi, yes, your cat is all set and ready to come home. Could you come pick up your cat early? As early as you can get here, preferably. Aggro/Bob/Cheese just really wants to come home. Please? Please come get your cat?"

Aggro, Bob, and Cheese hate the vet, but they are quite pleased to have made a new friend.

[cottonthumb]

Picks Milo up bridal style.

❦ Milo doesn't yelp so much as he squawks in alarm. Suddenly he's clinging to Raihan for dear life and looking stiff as a board. "RAI! Put me down, I'm not a trophy!"

[slaughterlauter]

[ video id - richie is alive, slightly worse for wear but doing okay. he's sitting on the ground, phone propped up against something as he plays with his cat. he waves to the camera, looking like he's about to say something before the cat escapes his grasp and bolts at the camera, knocking it over. richie squawks and the video ends. ]

[ it's accompanied with a text that says ; "milo cracked my phone screen😔 ]

@notshitlips

[stephs eyes widen as she sees the video and the message and she sits up from where she was lying in bed. she texts him as fast as her fingers could move.]

RICHIE

omg

ARE YUO OK??????

*you

cute cat

BUT PLS ARE YOU OK

[itslookingback]

bc valentines is coming up, shout out to the aros that are still grieving their identity. every valentine's decoration can seem like a punch to the gut when you've realised that you can't love in the way society wants you to, and you might even try to squeeze yourself back into the box that you know doesn't fit. finding out you're aro can be pretty isolating with romantic love literally everywhere, just so you know, i love you, you've got this<3

[hott-brownn-sugarr]

Bro Asher def dropped and broke his fucking tailbone in front of everyone at graduation because Milo bet him something fucking stupid like a fruit snack or a literal penny

When David walked the stage they all started squawking in key omg and Gabe def got some of the parents to wear those corny ass shirts with his face on it BAHAHAHAAH

I bet Darlin was standing in the corner recording the whole thing and then Milo was trying his best not to beg them for the video

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I really liked reading your fics of Lotor watching movies! Do you think Lotor would like watching Atlantis or lilo and stitch? And who would he watch them with? (Hopefully either Allura or Pidge)

Movie Time with TSL Lotor – Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

It was a cold and rainy morning on the planet of Olkarion, with an emaciated Galran prince swaddled in blankets on the floor of the paladin’s lounge room. Lotor still wore his night robe and Earth-fashion pajamas, his white hair disheveled from sleep. He yawned. His face pulled tight with his harvesting scars, and his long fangs gleamed in the lamplight. He tiredly scratched at his cheek. “Why did you wake me so early, little one?”

Across the room, a pajama-clad Pidge sat cross-legged, plugging in a few cables. “Because. It’s Saturday.”

The bleary-eyed man blinked. “I know not what a Saturday is.”

She looked up, readjusting her glasses. “It’s the day where people get up to eat cereal and binge-watch cartoons. Like a tradition. My brother and I used to do this all the time. And sometimes my dad too, but he slept in a lot.” Her face twisted in a pout. “And everyone here sleeps in for, like, ever.”

“Even the princess?”

“Even the princess.”

Lotor’s gaze slid to the container of milk, courtesy of Kaltenecker, and then to the sacred box of—he narrowed his gaze curiously—frosted cheerios. Pidge had procured two bowls and two little spoons. He raised his nose and sniffed delicately. The box smelled of sweetness and grains, and saliva swarmed through his mouth in anticipation of food. Beneath the blankets, he scratched at his stomach. Wakefulness began to seep through him at the thought of eating and watching more animated drawings from Earth. “You wish to share in this…tradition with me, then?”

“You were sleeping out here on the couch,” Pidge deadpanned, giving him a look, “so you were gonna share in it no matter what.” A small emotion came over her. She glanced down, returning to connecting the cables. “And my brother’s still off-planet, so you’ll have to do.”

He huffed in amusement. “I am a companion of convenience, then. A replacement brother.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She began to scoot away from the cables, grabbing for her cereal bowl.

Lotor quirked a brow. His blanket shifted around him as he picked up the remaining bowl, mimicking her actions. “What is the topic of today’s entertainment adventure?” He watched curiously as she dumped cereal into her bowl and filled it with milk. And then he followed in kind, hesitantly dipping his spoon into the concoction and biting down.

His slit pupils dilated at the sweet taste.

His fangs crunched down loudly.

Pidge munched more quietly, but her lips stretched as she moved to turn on the movie. “It’s called Atlantis: The Lost Empire.”

Lotor’s elfin ears flicked in interest. “Lost empire?” he repeated curiously, voice muffled by cereal.

As the movie began to play, Pidge’s face brightened. “The whole movie involves an old human legend, about this advanced civilization that sunk under the sea in a sudden cataclysm.”

“Fascinating.” His explorer’s heart lifted in excitement, the sleeping disappearing fully from his eyes. In that moment, it did not matter to him that he was 10,000 years old or watching something that was most assuredly meant for children and families. “Does the legend have any form of validity?”

“Well, being mentioned by Plato, who was a real philosopher—” she pointed to the screen to the opening quote—“has made people search all over for it. But so far, nothing’s proven because there’s a lot of sunken cities on Earth.” She paused. “The movie definitely takes some creative license with ancient human tech, too. Like, ancient humans did not fly in fish ships.”

“I see.” Lotor crunched down happily on the cereal, eyes wide. The screen brightened with the cartoon colors of human animation. Strange, fish-like planes streaked through a blue sky in a panic. Lotor instinctively leaned along with the framing of the movie, as if he were on the ships as well. “Calamity is rather fun to indulge in when it’s not real.”

“I know, right?” Pidge grabbed onto her blanket, wrapping it around her.

And the two remained sitting on the floor of the great lounge, increasingly lost in the tale of Atlantis.

***

It was at some point after Milo Thatch’s introduction that Lotor hesitantly spoke up, his voice catching oddly. “This animation.” He tried again. “I thought you said once that humans were unaware of the planet Altea.”

Pidge pushed up her glasses, still cradling her cereal bowl in her lap. “Yep. Didn’t know about it at all.”

Lotor puzzled at the screen. He hummed, setting his cereal bowl down on his lap. “This Atlantis bears significant similarities to Altean technology and to its people, down to being significantly advanced even ten-thousand years ago.”

The human girl blinked. And then her face twisted in a mischief. “Oh, yeah. It might have more similarities than you think.” She began to waggle her bows. “Including to a certain Altean princess.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Also, you kinda remind me of Milo,” she declared. “Just saying.”

His eyes slit further in consternation, for at that moment, the somewhat bumbling but intelligent character of Milo Thatch was sitting in a water puddle after his museum colleagues rejected his proposal. For good measure, Lotor crunched down on another bite of cereal. “I may enjoy ancient history,” he declared, voice muffled, “but I am not as scrawny as he.”

Pidge poked him hard in his ribs, which still jutted out beneath his sleeping robe. “You’re right. You’re scrawnier.”

Lotor flinched away, shooting her a playfully dark glare. “A temporary consequence of being harvested by the witch. I will reclaim my health, and then you will regret making fun of me so.”

Her face split in a wicked smile. “Nah. You’re definitely Milo. Muscle can’t hide that you’re a nerd.”

He sputtered, waving his cereal spoon. “And what of you? With your books and codes. And cat memes.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd,” she declared. “I just own it proudly.”

The fallen prince ate of his cereal in a light disgruntlement. He watched Milo as the character awkwardly stumbled through meeting a busty blond human woman and then a spastic old man in a bathrobe—his objective always set on discovering the secrets of Atlantis and its sources of power.

Milo Thatch owned a cat too.

Lotor’s face began to heat in realization that he did have a lot in common with this strange human man.

***

By the time the character Milo Thatch met the Princess Kida of Atlantis, a real princess had sleepily trailed into the movie room. Allura’s long, pink robes slipped against the tiles of the halls, her curls a tumble down her shoulders. She yawned and proceeded to stumble her way over to Lotor and Pidge.

With little preamble, she flopped over them.

Pidge barely managed to raise her bowl of frosted cheerios in time, squawking. Lotor froze entirely as Allura’s white curls spilled across his lap—her warm cheek leaning against his leg.

“It’s too early for movies,” the princess whined lightly. She snuggled against him and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, laying across two bodies. “I could hear the sound all the way from my room.” Lotor’s attention split from the animated Princess Kida to the living, breathing princess in his lap. His elfin ears flicked back, and his sharp cheeks heated.

Pidge grumped and tried to shove her off.

The princess did not budge, save for a grump right back.

Lotor had long finished off his bowl of frosted cheerios—leaving not even a drop of milk in his wake. But he carefully pushed the bowl further away, in fear that her hair would end up in it. “We are watching Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” he murmured to her, voice straining. “Would you not like to watch it with us?”

Allura made a noncommittal noise, appearing to fall back asleep, the lines in her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled deeply. The action suggested she had grown to trust him a great deal, for the back of her neck lay bare where her hair had parted.

Lotor swallowed hard.

He turned to look at Pidge, who had sighed and given up trying to push Allura off—instead, she’d moved to accept Allura’s robe as something of a blanket and had rested her arms over the back of the princess’s legs.

Lotor hesitated, knowing that the paladins often piled upon each other as a means of displaying familial affection.

As Milo Thatch moved to swim alongside Princess Kida in search of the Heart of Atlantis, Lotor moved to brush his fingers against the waves of Allura’s curls.

It was a soft, hesitant action—testing the waters of her trust. She made a soft noise in response, her lips sleepily stretching. Her elfin ear flicked lightly as the calloused pads of his fingers ran over it. The action itself meant things to Alteans and Galrans, for only family and lovers touched one’s ears.

The princess nuzzled against him.

His heart skipped. Careful of his claws, he continued to toy with her hair as he turned his attention back to the movie, in which Milo’s very interest in Atlantis had now endangered the Royal Atlantean family.

Lotor bit his lip, feeling a great protectiveness for Allura wash over him.

***

The movie indicated that Atlanteans received their power from a great, sentient crystal—the animation of which was not unlike pure quintessence.

“Do you think,” Lotor asked quietly to Pidge, “that it is possible your Atlantis was real, and that some piece of a quintessence-rich substance—a comet, perhaps—landed upon your Earth?”

Pidge looked over at him, readjusting her glasses in interest. “I suppose it would be possible, but you’re suggesting then that Atlantis is real. And that the power in this movie is real.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“What would you do with it?” she challenged right back, raising a brow. “You got plans for that power or something?”

The fallen prince made a face. He was still absentmindedly running his claws through Princess Allura’s hair. “No. I simply fear that concentrated sources of quintessence may have this effect in our world—that it bonds to a host and…overtakes them, somehow.” His white brows knitted together. “As it did my own mother, who has been lost to quintessence, and a demon has taken her place.”

Pidge’s gaze fell to Lotor’s hand, which ran along the tip of Princess Allura’s ear. The princess herself was fully asleep against him, her mouth open with a trail of drool slipping against Lotor’s pajama-clad leg.

The girl’s face curled with a sneaky smile. “You’re worried about Allura? Afraid you’re gonna lose her over something, because you loveher?”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to Pidge, his face heating. “I know she has successfully navigated Oriande, but…” He fell silent with emotion for a time before he could add, “My mother came across something of great power, and it changed her.”

The strain in his voice made Pidge’s mischievous smile falter. She hesitated.

The movie played between them as the animated humans fought to steal Kida, who was bonded to the crystal.

Pidge eventually said, voice softer, “Allura’s really powerful. We’re not gonna lose her over anything.”

Lotor’s throat tightened. He continued to stroke Allura’s hair as she slept against him. “You do not know what I have seen quintessence do to people. Even now, if certain groups knew what all Princess Allura could do, they would seek to control her, just as the evil humans in this cartoon wish to do with the crystal-bonded Kida.”

An emotion came over Pidge. “Well—I mean, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

Within the movie, Milo Thatch had accrued a small band willing to risk their lives to retrieve the princess.

Lotor watched, his heart rising in a pound. “Do tell me that they save her,” he demanded. “I will not watch the rest of this if the Princess Kida dies.”

The human girl gave him a look. “It’s a children’s cartoon. They’re not gonna kill off the princess.”

His breath caught oddly, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled his hand away from Allura’s hair. “Right, yes. Of course, they wouldn’t.” He breathed out slowly. “That is well.”

“You take these shows too seriously,” Pidge warned. “Half the fun is knowing that it turns out okay, but not knowing how. You just gotta watch.”

“And Princess Kida?” Lotor demanded. “She is not permanently bonded to the crystal by the end, is she?”

Pidge groaned. “Oh my god. Just watch the movie.”

The princess suddenly whined at the loss of Lotor’s touch, her blue eyes cracking open. “No,” she pleaded blearily. She disjointedly reached up, searching for Lotor’s hand. “Keep petting me; it was quite nice.”

He looked down at her, face tightening in a mix of amusement and protectiveness. “Apologies, princess,” he said, moving to run the back of his knuckles against her warm temple. “I will do as you wish.”

She made a happy noise, settling back into sleep.

***

Lotor did not relax until after Milo Thatch had released Princess Kida from her prison, and until after Princess Kida had saved Atlantis and reappeared from out of the crystal’s aura—to land in Milo’s arms.

“You see?” Pidge called, waving her hand at the screen. “What did I tell you?”

Lotor swallowed down emotion. His fingers stilled against Allura’s stiff curls and the warm of her cheek. Despite the fact that he knew the story to be a children’s fairy tale, an odd burn appeared in his eyes. He exhaled shakily. “You were right,” he relented. “The princess lived.”

“Exactly,” Pidge said. For all her youth, she narrowed her eyes with a critical level of awareness. “They saved the princess. Because she had people to fight for her too.”

He raised his vulnerable eyes to her.

An unspoken truth wavered between them—which was that he and the paladins would fight to protect Princess Allura in much the same way, if it ever came to it.

Then, Pidge broke the mood, her expression shifting with a demonic mischief. She waggled her brows. “You love Princess Allura.” She began to shove at Allura’s legs. “Wake up. Lotor wants to declare his undying love for you and tell you that he’ll save you from crystals and evil people and—”

“—Stop it,” he hissed, his cheeks heating. He grabbed for one of the extra pillows that hung off the edge of the couch—and he flung it directly at Pidge. “You gremlin.”

It struck her soundly, but it did not hide her cackle, nor did it stop Princess Allura waking up from all the unsettled movement and raised voices. Her eyes opened a slit. She made a noise of confusion. “What is—going…on?”

She sleepily raised up from Lotor’s lap, her white curls tumbling down her shoulders.

Pidge opened her mouth to respond with a tease, but Lotor smoothly cut in. “Pidge was just putting in another movie,” he said, voice straining. “Weren’t you, Pidge?”

Allura turned to him, still rapidly blinking her eyes. In that moment, she appeared so entirely vulnerable that Lotor struggled against an instinct to gather her into his arms. “Oh, another one?” She yawned. “But I think—I missed all of this one.”

The human girl crawled away, reaching for her watch with her movie collection on it. “Don’t worry,” she called merrily. “I’m sure Lotor wouldn’t mind reenacting it with you one day.”

“I should hope not,” he retorted, his lavender cheeks still in a flame of emotion. “I’d prefer the princess not be in danger at all. And I am not a Milo Thatch.”

“You are definitely a Milo Thatch,” Pidge deadpanned. “Allura, tell him he’s a Milo Thatch. You know he is.”

The sleepy princess only half-understand the plea. She rubbed at her eyes before leaning back against Lotor, resting her heavy cheek against his shoulder, curling up against him. “He’s—my Milo,” she murmured groggily. “Thatch.”

Lotor pressed his lips together, and he damned the skip of his heart.

Allura’s Milo.

He managed a glare at Pidge, but it lacked fire.

The human girl simply smiled back with that demonic mischief before turning away to look for another movie.

[rayfollowsfromhere]

Crossing the River (KotM #1)

I have been working on a story line for my Kingdom of the Mountain characters, attempting to weave a plot against their wishes (or so it often feels). At the very least, it'll let me introduce the characters and play with them a bit. Never a bad use of time in my opinion. They're coming out a bit like interconnected scenes or drabbles. Here's the first installment.

It is also available on my patreon, where the second installment just went live for patrons.

-.-.-

His breath echoed through the trees, as loud as his steps on the ground as he ran. There was blood in his mouth. His vision was blurry.

They just had to make it past the river.

Chana was heavy on his back. Her dead weight slipping to one side or another every time he stepped wrong. He'd tied her hands together with a ribbon to loop them over his neck. The bruise on his neck would be well worth it if Kano could keep her safe.

"Almost there," he swallowed down his next breath as the sound of rushing water met his ears.

A thunk sounded and out of the corner of his eye Kano saw the arrow embed itself in the tree to his right. He held tighter to Chana, pushing himself to run faster. His lungs ached. The air felt like fire licking at his insides.

Another arrow sliced through the air beside his head. Kano felt the blood on his cheek as he twisted to the side, feet tangling together before he caught himself on a tree. He took cover behind it as a barrage of arrows crashed into the ground.

The dense foliage was no longer troubling their aim. Soon the arrows would be replaced by swords. Or worse.

They weren't going to make it to the river.

"Come out thief!" the captain of the band of soldiers called out as they approached.

Kano pursed his lips and then shifted around to lean Chana back against a tree trunk. Her soul hadn't returned yet. He pulled on the ribbon and the knot holding her hands came free.

She couldn't protect herself, not like that. Kano gulped. He wasn't exactly protection. But... he could be distracting.

Reaching a hand towards his neck, Kano grabbed hold of the charm hanging there. His mother's sigil, cast in iron the night he was born. Eyes squeezed shut, he whispered a prayer to the mountain.

Don't let this come to bloodshed.

He stepped out from behind the tree, snaking his way through the forest till he stood before the captain. The man's chin rose high and his eyes fluttered as Kano appeared before him.

"Hiding in the trees? I thought you were braver than that, coward."

Looking pointedly at the man's shield, the king's name pressed into the metal pinned to his chest, "Hiding behind the law, I thought you were better than that, captain."

Captain Milo was no stranger to Kano. He'd been the one to recruit Kano to the king's legion as a healer. He was no stranger to Kano's village either.

"I won't let you take the witch beyond the river," Milo raised his sword. The blade was aimed at Kano's heart. "Hand her over and I'll let you cross."

Kano chuckled. His face was bloodied and bruised. One eye swollen nearly shut. His hair was a tangled mess of black strands matted with blood.

"You're in no position to negotiate, Kano," Milo stepped forward with a snarl. His blade moved to rest against his chest.

"Then why are you negotiating at all?" Kano ignored the sword, focused his shaking gaze on Milo.

They both knew Kano was no match for him, even on his best day, which this certainly wasn't. Milo pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, "Don’t throw your life away for her, she isn't worth it."

"I'm not," Kano stood firm, "But she is."

A bird squawked above them. Milo looked up. His head hit the ground.

Kano stumbled back as a man rushed forward. A blur of black hair and brown clothes. The short blades in his hand sliced through the air as he danced around the remaining members of Milo's party.

They fell, one by one, with their weapons half-drawn. The smell of burning flesh rose in the air. Not a single drop of blood dripped from their bodies.

"You know..." the man sighed, tossing his hair back as he approached Kano with a smile, "...when your mom said you don't fight, I didn't think she meant to the death."

"Uncle Taerus," Kano breathed out as he looked up at the man. He was clad in leather armor. His blades weren't in his hands, but they were red from the heat of his palms all the same.

Taerus had palms as black and burnt as wood in a fire. He smelled faintly of ash. Kano had never seen him when he wasn't smiling.

"Let's get you home, eh, Kano?" Taerus quirked his head towards the river. His blades snapping back into their holsters with a click as Taerus dropped his arms to his side. Kano nodded and scrambled to his feet.

Chana was groggy, head lulling to the side, but she could stand on her own two feet. Kano helped her across the river, the hem of her dress catching in the water. She sighed as the current slid around her feet.

A sizzle rose up as Taerus crossed. He hummed, unbothered by the steam rising around him.

"Last time I saw you two..." Taerus snorted, shaking his head, "...actually, I can't even remembered when I last saw you."

"The spring festival," Chana croaked, tongue swiping over her cracking lips.

Kano nodded, one arm wrapped around Chana's waist as she leaned heavily on him for support. He looked up at Taerus as he walked backwards in front of them, "We were twelve. You bought us ale."

"Oh yeah." Taerus cringed, brow furrowing, "You think your mother will remember that?"

"Yes." Kano and Chana answered in tandem. Taerus pouted, spinning on his heels to walk forward. The gate to the village was rising on the horizon and there was a figure waiting just beyond.

Taeshi was not someone anyone kept waiting. Not if they knew what was good for them anyway.

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

Day 6. Hypothermia

Otherwise known as “Cold 3.0″! This was mostly Em’s idea!

Nothing really in the way of warnings this time, mostly just really kids being cold.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Uh, guys? We’re…not supposed to go in there…” Cody said meekly, hunching into his coat and biting his lip.

Milo and Tegan, who had been in the act of scaling the fence, paused to stare at him.

“And that’s stopped uuuuussss…when?” Milo asked, breath misting in the cool evening air, “Come on, Cody! We’re just gonna take a little look around and then get outta here.”

“It’ll be fiiiiinneee,” Tegan said dismissively, hauling herself the rest of the way up the fence and dropping over onto the other side in a puff of snow. She brushed off the front of her coat with a wide smile, “This place has been empty for literal years and I used to sneak in here all the time! Come on, don’t be such a spoil sport!”

Milo snorted and climbed over the fence too, not landing quite as gracefully as Tegan and sitting down hard in the snow. He leapt up again with a squawk, shaking the snow out of his coat while Tegan laughed at him. Cody sighed, a long stream of mist fading into sky, and trudged over to climb the fence as well.

“Let’s just be fast, please. It’s already past four, it’s gonna be dark soon…”

It was cold in the old quarry, but as they trekked down the ramp into the pit proper it brought them out of the worst of the wind. It looked like an alien planet, great mounds of dirt draped in snowy blankets, fissures in the earth and shallow pits left by hungry machines. Plant life had started to force its way through the rocky ground, stubborn weeds and thick grasses clustering in shriveled sentries around the massive pit. The snow was deep in the pit, deeper than expected. It went almost to their knees in some areas, heavy and wet and difficult to wade through or fluffy powder that billowed into the air when they disturbed it, obscuring their vision

Milo had dropped back to walk with Cody as the shadows began to get longer and deeper. Tegan was ahead of them and slightly to the right, pausing every so often to kick aside the snow and look at the ground underneath. Milo looked up at the edge of the quarry pit far overhead, wandering away, and Cody trailed distractedly after him, looking around at the odd shapes left behind. There was scaffolding, rusted and rotted, half collapsed against an outcrop of stone, its surface shiny with ice. It looked eerie in the half-light.

Cody was moving closer to the broken structure when the ground suddenly dropped out from under him. He barely had time to make a sound before the air was crushed out of his lungs by the icy cold that enveloped him. It shocked him so badly that it took a minute for him to realize what had happened, to understand why the world had suddenly gone cold and dark and airless.

He’d fallen into water.

Panic seized him and he kicked and flailed, pawing at the water around him, trying to find the surface. He didn’t know which way was up or down and he desperately hoped he was going the right way. His chest ached for air and his heavy winter coat dragged him down. Cody broke the surface with a choked gasp, coughing and spitting and flailing. His cheeks and eyes stung in the cold, a bone deep ache settling into him in seconds. The metal of his glasses burned where they touched his face and he wanted to cry.

“This way!” Tegan was on her knees in the snow, holding out her gloved hands, and Cody floundered towards her. He grasped at her hand, his numb fingers clumsy and stiff, but she held tightly to his coat sleeve and hauled him onto stable ground. As Cody lay sprawled in the snow, gasping and shivering, he saw her turn back and pull Milo out as well.

“We gotta get you two out of the cold right now.” Tegan said seriously, “Come on! Get up! You gotta move! Move, move, move!”

“B-b-bossy…” Milo stuttered, hugging himself. His hair was plastered to his head in clumps that were already started to stiffen with frost. The freckles on his face stood out starkly against pale skin, his coat dripping, his fingertips red.

Tegan didn’t bother with an argument. She pulled Cody to his feet and caught him when he stumbled on numb legs. She pulled both of them close to her body heat and frowned, looking around the darkening quarry. After a second of the two of them shivering beside her, she dragged them away from the edge of the water and back towards the ramp that would lead them out. Cody kept tripping over his feet, uncoordinated and dizzy. His eyelashes stuck together when he blinked and it was getting harder and harder to focus. Milo was no better, his head drooping and his breath wheezing in his throat.

And it was so, so cold.

Tegan pulled them to a stop beside a massive boulder, the ground around one side of it relatively free of snow. She pointed aggressively to the spot, “Clear as much snow from here as you can. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Uuuhhhggg do we h-h-h-have tooooo…” Milo whined, slouched over and shaking hard, his hands tucked under his crossed arms.

“Now.” Tegan said in a voice that left no room for argument, glaring at Milo was a serious ferocity neither of them had ever seen from her before.

While they did their best to kick and scrape the snow away as well as they could, Tegan hurried off in the quickening darkness. They could hear he making a lot of noise, banging and crashing and things breaking. Then she was back with an armful of old wooden planks, her cheeks flushed red with exertion.

“It’s not much but it’ll have to work…” She said more to herself than the other two. She shooed them out of the way and laid the boards out over the exposed ground, “Sit.” She commanded the other two and, once they had, “Stay there real quick, lean against each other, and don’t fall asleep!” And she ran off into the dark again.

Cody and Milo glanced at each other but shuffled closer together, shoulder pressed against one another, shivering in the cold. The freezing ache felt like it had seized Cody’s lungs, making every breath an ache that stabbed into the back of his throat. Beside him, Milo was sniffling, tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, shaking so hard Cody could hear his teeth rattling.

“W-w-why were y-y-you in the w-water?” Cody asked, voice stuttering as his body was wracked with shivers.

Milo glanced at him, “I h-heard a splash and w-wh-when I turned a-around you w-w-were g-gone. S-s-so I ran over to t-try to look for y-you a-a-and f-fell in. Ih-it was kh-kinda shallow s-so I didn’t s-s-sink b-but it was s-s-s-so c-cold…”

“M-musta been a h-hole that got dh-dug out and gh-ground water f-f-filled it or s-s-somethin’…” Cody muttered. Words were difficult, his mouth was numb and his lips felt chapped and swollen, his tongue thick and clumsy. Exhaustion was starting to weigh heavy on him and it was hard to keep his eyes open.

The sound of footsteps and Tegan suddenly appeared from the dark, almost stumbling right into them. She was murmuring under her breath, brow furrowed, as she skittered around them. Cody watched her work, if only to keep himself occupied, but Milo had his face in his knees, eyes heavy and lidded.

Tegan worked quickly, using a combination of things she salvaged from around the quarry and the heavy snow around them to build a haphazard shelter. She packed the snow around them, reinforced it with broken or rotting boards, and then packed in more snow. Then she laid more boards over top of them to create a crude roof, draped a tarp that was mostly holes over it, and packed more snow on top of the tarp to keep it in place. Once she was satisfied by that, she cleared more snow from in front of their makeshift shelter, building it up into a sort of wall, reinforced again with more boards and planks. Then she took the remaining boards and a bunch of the dried and dead plant life and carefully constructed it into a small pile. When she dug a pocket knife from somewhere in her bundle of clothes, Cody let out a soft noise of surprise.

“What?” Tegan only spared him a glance before she started striking the back of her knife against a rock, creating sparks, “It’s a basic survival tool! You mean you don’t carry one of these puppies around with you?” She sounded like she was trying to keep her usual good humor as she nursed the sputtering fire into a more steady blaze. The warmth from it was like a balm to the aching cold that was eating away at Cody’s bones.

Tegan crawled into the tiny shelter and nudged and pushed Cody and Milo apart until she could sit between them, her arms around both of them. She peeled off her heavy winter coat and draped it over all three of them as best she could. Her warmth, combined with the warmth of the fire, helped ease Cody’s shivering, at least a little bit. Milo kept blinking rapidly, his head drooping and then jerking awake again as he tried to stay conscious.

“I called for help,” Tegan said, unusually soft. She leaned forward and tossed some more grasses and slivers of wood on the fire, “They should find us pretty quick. We need to get you guys warmed up ASAP.”

Milo mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “dad’s gonna kill me” and Tegan let out a humorless chuckle. She cupped her gloved hand around the side of his head and gently pushed him so he was leaning against her shoulder. His frozen hair must have been fiercely cold against her cheek but she said nothing in protest.

True to her word, there was soon the sound of distant sirens and flashing lights, then the sweeping beams of flashlights, figures moving in the dark, and shouting. The fire was a beacon and the rescue team found them quickly. They moved with the same practiced efficiency that Tegan had, bundling all three of them in thick, warm blankets and carrying them out of the quarry to waiting ambulances. Tegan was talking rapidly, filling the team in on who they were and what had happened, telling them to call Milo and Cody’s dads.

Cody tried to see where she and Milo were taken but he was so cold and everything hurt and the blanket’s warmth was seeping into his aching body. He let the exhaustion take him and closed his eyes before they’d even made it into the back of an ambulance.

--------------

Their parents were less than pleased, to say the least.

Dom braved the hospital to see his son and then promptly cried on Cody for a good ten minutes. Then he tried to berate him for such reckless behavior.

Miranda ended up giving Cody a very stern but concerned lecture while Dom cried all over again. Then he was grounded for a month.

Apparently there had been a lot of almost yelling in Milo’s room. Jake had wanted to ground Milo for a whole year. Dan managed to talk him down to two months. Milo had sulked about it until Dan had given him such a distraught look that Milo had simply reached out for hugs from both of them.

Tegan was only grounded for a week.

But all three of them agreed that going into the old quarry in the middle of winter was one of their stupidest ideas ever.

[rexs-writing]

blurb from my novel: a vampire wife and her ghost husband

Martha’s brown eyes went wide as she looked over the almost glowing face of Milo. He didn’t look like he did when she last saw him. Instead of wrinkled, with thinning grey hair, and dull eyes. He looked the way he did when they met. His hair thick and light brown, freckles over his face, skin tanned, and eyes clear and hazel. Martha gasped as she watched him reach out to touch her, she tensed. And then relaxed as he brushed her dark hair from her face and rubbed a thumb over her cheek. Somehow, his hand still felt warm against her fair skin.

Martha realized how dumb she must have looked, just gawking at the ghost of her husband. Quickly she cleared her throat and adjusted her round glasses. Trying to think of something intelligent to say. But instead all that she managed to squawk out was “Milo! Wh-What are you- H-How did you? What?” she asked, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

Milo chuckled and turned her head by her chin to get her to look at him “Don’t you remember?” he asked, tilting his head, “Death cannot stop true love, only delay it for a little while.” he replied.

[cottonthumb]

@hoennhibana shows their strength:

💪(BOOM)

❦ Kabu knew Milo well. Heavens, he knew him VERY well after their years of working together, be it as gym leaders or close friends awa from the pitch.

So Kabu knew exactly what he was doing when he came around to Milo's side that evening, shortly after they'd finished warming up. The farmer, gulible like no other, merely blinked curiously at Kabu's approach, all the while dabbing sweat from off his cheek. "Hm? Something the matter Kabu? Are you feeling under the weather?" Milo's concerns were promptly cut off when the fire master all but scooped his smaller companion off the ground, earning a loud squawk of alarm before Milo promptly held onto his shoulders for dear life.

"Kabu, no!" Milo protested, his voice much higher pitched than he'd have wished. He remained firmly koala'd onto his dear - if devilish - friend. "Put me down, Kabu, this isn't fair-"

[cottonthumb-archive]

❦ The cabin lurched precariously to the right and Milo squeaked with alarm.

The entire ride to Circhester had been like this, most of it he’d spent with his eyes tightly shut and his hands clutching the life out of the taxi’s upholstery. He’d pointedly avoided looking out the window at any moment. The Corviknight overhead squawked in response to the farmer’s Rookidee like squeak and Milo wondered if the Pokémon was concerned for him or teasing him. He reached out one hand to the bag at his side, his fingers resting on the smooth surface of his wrapped up gift. He tried to think of what it’d be like once he landed. Moving his headspace to solid ground would probably help with the panic.

Then the taxi shook and he practically squawked this time.

By the time Milo arrived on the cold northern lands of Circhester, his legs were gelatinous. He looked pale, but still managed to throw a tentative ‘thank you’ back to his driver and the Corviknight. Taking a seat on the nearest bench to gather himself, Milo fumbled to pluck his phone out of the coat’s pocket, not wanting to wake up his Rotom who’d napped the long trip off. Slowly, he typed out his text.

[To Gordie]: Just arrived. I’m taking a bit of a breather by Circhester Station. [To Gordie]: See you in a bit!

He was still shaking - more on account of leftover fear than cold - when he finished. Milo sighed heavily, once more resting a hand onto the bag he’d brought along. Briefly, he wished he could call on one of his partners for some added comfort, but knew that none of them would appreciate the biting chill.

Well... He’d be fine in a bit. There was a birthday to celebrate. He’d come over to meet a dear friend and he’d be up and running in no time to do so!

@gigekitanzan

[itslookingback]

fave mechs tweets

[split-n-splice]

you live, you learn / you love, you learn / you cry, you learn / you lose, you learn / you bleed, you learn / you scream, you learn ~ "You Learn" by Alanis Morissette Time for a brief intermission for some backstory. I have my reasons. This may clash with the flow a little bit, but oh well. Regular linear timeline will resume Ch27: Aura Of Others

[Chapter Guide]

26. Intermission: Jagged Little Pill

New Years Eve held promise. A new year, a new start, a new resolution, a new her. The troubled city now knew her not as Shilo Gough, a local nobody, but as a rising superheroine by the alias of Shego.

It had taken a heap of good behavior to get out on probation just to go home in time for the winter holidays, though her siblings had been deemed low-risk and returned officially months ago once the restoration of the neighborhood had been completed. It helped that the grand unveiling of Team Go and her return to Go City had come a month early out of necessity.

At first, she eagerly embraced the new double-lifestyle, even if she wore an anklet at all times to track her whereabouts and the activity level of the new innate gift only Shego was permitted to use. It at least meant getting out of the facility and distancing herself from the research teams which wanted to dissect her under the guise of helping.

She’d thought going home to rejoin her family would mean returning to some normalcy, but December hadn’t gone great, as she’d been called into action no less than three times a week. Overall, it really hadn’t been her year, so it didn’t surprise her that even the season of gift-giving, comfy sweaters, and cookies was put on the back burner in favor of demanding hero duty.

She convinced herself she didn’t mind the distraction from Yuletide festivities. It beat sitting at home looking at gift tags signed From Santa in inelegant print or noticing the distinct lack of music that somehow made the house several degrees colder. Spending time with family was disheartening when it was incomplete anyway, but she’d run herself so far into the ground by Christmas that the best gift she could hope for was to be buried in her blankets – not running through the streets after the criminal of the week. Even with Global Justice’s so-called assistance, she’d hardly had a good night’s rest since coming home.

End of the month meant another refill on her prescription. The narcotic was uniquely formulated for her and came from no ordinary pharmacy.

Shilo – Shego – and her brothers-turned-teammates, Hego and Mego, had just wrapped up the Christmas caper and smiled and waved for the press and wished an early Happy New Year to all of Go City when they were collectively pulled aside by agents in the shadows. A woman with an eye patch congratulated them on a job well done, but a pat on the back was the extent of their reward when it came down to it. Mego sniffed and grinned, happy for the attention from a pretty lady doling out compliments, and Hego proudly announced it was all in a day’s work. Shego sighed and held out her hand in anticipation of the usual delivery she’d received from Betty personally for the past three months.

From there, they dressed back into street clothes in one of the agency’s many secret boltholes found throughout Go City, and Shego shook herself out in relief to be Shilo again. Her brothers wanted to walk home together, her sandwiched between them, so the relief was short-lived.

“There’s safety in numbers,” reminded Hugo, grabbing her arm to tow her along. He was filling out around the shoulders and torso, and lately his idea of a gentle grip had begun leaving bruises.

“Oh, come on!” Shilo whined. She recomposed herself quickly then to tease her older sibling instead, “What do you need me for? You can walk home yourself. You’re a big boy.” It was no exaggeration either. Hugo was little more than seventeen, but over the past year had developed a pair of guns capable of intimidating professional wrestlers. The jocks at their new school, which Hugo had been attending for months now, gave him a wide berth, so she heard.

Milo sprang three steps ahead in the snow suddenly, proclaiming his independence, “I don’t need either of you! Anyone comes after me, I’ll sock it to ‘em.” He boxed at the air with pale bony knuckles, a far cry from Hugo. Affected with the onset of puberty and ganglier than ever, the tween tripped over his own legs and slipped, falling to the icy sidewalk. In a perfect world, he’d be home next to Mom, taking a piano lesson or baking sugar cookies – not out on the streets, excited to pick up the slack for policemen or secret agents.

Shilo’s fist curled in her pocket, palm growing warm around her refilled prescription. Her other hand reached down to grab one of Milo’s as he stuck both of his up in the air, expectantly waiting for a sibling on either side to grab hold. Shilo was glad Hugo released her to take Milo’s other hand, and while she would have been happy to drag her little brother through the slush, her big brother spoiled the fun by lifting him to his feet with ease.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just going to the mall,” she swore. “I’ll be home by three.”

“That’s what you said last time,” noted Milo, ambling along next to her. At least his tiny body put something between her and Hugo now. “Dad made dinner! Do you know what he made?”

“Fishcakes,” she sighed, nodding. She’d barely choked down the cold leftovers that night when she snuck in at six in the evening. Anyway, 6:00PM wasn’t that late. Back when she still visited her best friend at her house down the street, she used to come home at a quarter to nine, if at all. But that was before Lady Fate came to Go City. Now that she had a superpower and could defend herself better than ever, it made an early curfew pretty silly.

Shilo opened her mouth to argue when a fluttering past her head made her duck and topple into her spindly little brother. A curse nearly escaped her lips as she locked her eyes on the offending – pigeon? – flapping away to join its flock in a skeletal snowy elm at the corner. In the past month, she’d had a lot of things hurled her way, and it was becoming second nature to dodge at the faintest sign of a projectile. So her heart hammering in her chest was justified as Milo shoved her away.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose when a nasally voice behind them called, “Excuse me?”

Hugo turned, even though Shilo grabbed Milo and kept towing him along. “Can I help you, sir?” asked her big brother to the civilian behind them. Shilo clenched her jaw. Didn’t they have a rule? Don’t talk to strangers. Not outside of uniform, anyway. It wasn’t conducive to keeping a secret—

“You’re Team Go. Right?”

Shilo whipped around to lock her eyes on the stranger, freezing on the spot.

Milo on the other hand bounced free of her grip. She grabbed for him again, but he’d bound up to Hugo’s side to proudly announce, “Yes! Yes, we are.”

Hugo cuffed him on the shoulder, and just about threw him into a snowdrift by doing so had he not caught him in his other paw. “I’m – we are not,” corrected Hugo in a practiced statement. “But maybe I can help you?”

The man stood in a grungy old parka trimmed with a collar of white, stained and weathered. He wrung his hands, duct-tape mending the holes in his leather gloves. “I’m Dr. Robinson,” he introduced, and struck out a hand to shake. The grimy man didn’t look like a doctor. He wasn’t one of Global Justice’s anyway.

Hugo didn’t take the hand and he most certainly didn’t give his name. It was probably the smartest thing he’d done all day. “Pleasure,” he said, and repeated once more, firmly, “Can I help you?”

The man’s beak-like nose pointed at them all in turn. Shilo’s stomach twisted as it was aimed in her direction for a millisecond too long, and she stepped forward to take her place between her brothers. The thin lips of the down-on-his-luck doctor, if he was even a doctor at all, split into a wide grin he quickly smothered. That was enough of a clue there was a screw loose. “Actually, I was thinking I could help you.”

“We’re good,” said Shilo, grabbing her brothers by the arms.

Hugo was unmovable. He crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed. “You. Help us? Do we look lost to you?”

“They might need help,” mumbled Milo. Shilo elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“I can – I have – you are Team Go!” Robinson insisted. “Aren’t you?” He sounded a little desperate.

Hugo had been about to steer them away when he shot a look back at the sketchy figure. “I told you, if you need help—”

“I don’t need help,” swore the prideful shivering man, his laugh wavering as he flapped his hands about and lurched forward. “I don’t need you. But you could really use me. I can – I’m like you, see?” He stuck out his hands as if to flip them the bird or show them his fingers. All ten digits were accounted for, but by the wild flick of his eyes as he waited for them to react, he had lost his marbles.

Eyebrows rose at Dr. Robinson. An exchange of glances, and Hugo and Milo burst into laughter. Dr. Robinson looked to his hands, all over himself, and up at them as something strange crossed his face. Disbelief, maybe. Disbelief that two young heroes were laughing at him.

“You can’t see it,” he muttered, sounding halfway out of his mind. “I-I have a gift like you!” he defended as the boys doubled over in infectious laughter. “You just can’t see it! You don’t have the eyes for it,” he squawked, voice shrill with desperation.

“Someone needs to come take Dr. Cuckoo back to the funny farm,” chortled Milo.

Hugo had a hard time reining it in. He thumped Milo so hard on the back that the boy fell into the snow again. “Get me a phonebook!” he guffawed. “We need to find this guy a shrink.”

Milo looked up at Hugo from where he lay, beaming ear to ear, and a new wave of laughter shook him and brought him to tears.

Shilo shoved her big brother, but he didn’t budge. “Leave him alone, you guys.”

The balking man shrank back from them. “I’ll show you!” he squawked, as if it were a threat. He looked beyond them, a hand outstretched and fingers clawing the air in a vaguely come-hither motion, but nothing at all happened. He paled. He shook his head like a wet dog, greasy ginger hair splattering droplets of melted snow. Shilo backed out of range as the man ground out something animalistic she couldn’t decipher. His face twisted and he clawed at his features.

He looked undoubtedly crazy in that moment. He was probably on something, she decided.

She couldn’t complain when Hugo took her by the shoulders, pulling her back from the sketchy derelict tripping out. She caught Milo by the hood of his jacket as the three of them left the questionable individual to have a meltdown there on the snowy sidewalk.

++X++

By the time Shilo reached the mall, the cuckoo lunatic had been left behind along with the worries of Shego’s hero duties, if only for a little while. She peeked over her shoulder, casting a quick glance about for signs of her brothers she’d barely escaped from, before ducking behind the hedge and around the wall to the side of the shopping center where the average civilian had no business loitering.

She smelled her before she saw her. Debatably cooler than the snow around her and seemingly indifferent to the winter chill, a fair blonde leaned against the brick and mortar wall, pink mini skirt daringly short and snow-white stockings spotless. As Shilo sauntered up to the pink-clad girl, striving to match her flippant air, a cigarette was offered to her. She took a drag – she couldn’t not with Priscilla’s critical eyes surveying her – and licked her lips to taste the trace of Priscilla’s cherry lip gloss left on the filter.

Shilo fought against the urge to choke. She swallowed and kept her cool. “So. The usual?”

“Yeah. Why not,” said Priscilla between drags, and patted a fanny pack on her hip to jingle the change inside. “I won a bet with Mickey, so it’s on me.”

“What was the bet?” Shilo was handed the smoke again too soon, Prissy’s smirk egging her on. Unenthused but compliant, she took another puff as the mischievous girl grinned at her. She couldn’t help laughing back and coughing as she did so. It was a good excuse to drop the spent butt on the ground. “What?” she snickered in demand and shook the girl’s shoulder. “Priss, what did you do?”

When her best friend since daycare made a sly gesture with hand and cheek, Shilo shoved her and stumbled away, an awkward bark of laughter erupting from her.

“That’s disgusting!” Shilo declared through her laugh. She wove her fingers behind her back to hide the unsettled burning in her palms as they walked back around toward the front. She grinned nonetheless, cheeks pinched as she failed to fight off a blush. “Don’t even joke like that.”

“Call it what you want, Shi. I call it easy money. It got me ten bucks.”

Priscilla was as proud and smug and comfortable in her own skin as ever. After the hectic year she’d had, Shilo’s gut twisted as she doubted she’d find that level of confidence. The extent of her experience on that front had been Seven Minutes in Heaven with Mickey at Priscilla’s thirteenth birthday party a few years back, and given the resulting locked braces, it wasn’t such a fond memory. And now with her new looks, boyishly short hair, and sickly pasty-pale skin, she was in no hurry to expand on that experience.

“Jeez,” muttered Shilo with a shake of her head. She got a grip on herself and glanced back to the cigarette butt smoldering in the snow. She stopped herself from wiping her mouth before she could smudge Shego’s makeup, and kept her disbelief or disgust or whatever it was she felt to herself as they made for the mall arcade.

As per usual, ten dollars split between two players went quick. Just to extend their stay a little longer, Shilo forfeited some of her own hard-earned babysitting money to the machines.

She wasn’t complaining though. It was a scrap of normalcy she couldn’t find back home. Back home, there was no Mom, no cookies, no music, no joy – only phone calls for appointments with doctors and for interviews, toddlers who never stopped crying, and a father who drank too much these days. It was hardly home at all, and she was hardly even Shilo there anymore. She was just Shego, waiting on standby to be called upon for a hero emergency. Even her prohibited rendezvous with Priscilla felt too much like just going through the motions, but she refused to think of that.

Tickets were redeemed for a handful of cheap toys. Fake spiders and bouncy balls were thrown off the second-story to the level below, landing in the hair of unsuspecting passerby, or bounce-bounce-bouncing across the plaza to inevitably bounce out of sight, disappearing either into a shop or into the expensive indoor garden sporting a water feature at the heart of the mall.

Eventually a beer-bellied security guard walking toward them was their cue to scram.

The small rush paled in comparison to the adrenaline surges she’d have in the heat of battle over the past month, but it was enough to bring a smile to her face and feel normal. Shilo laughed along with Priscilla as they held each other’s hands, taking turns practically dragging the other as they made the dash for the far end of the mall.

Suddenly she was tugged aside and into a parlor. The parlor Shilo had her sights on was still several shops away and involved pizza, not piercings, but she humored Priscilla as the girl sought out the gaudiest hoops and filled her in on a spiel of flimflam about what was trendy at the school they once attended together.

It was a blow she wasn’t ready for, but Shilo tried to keep the smile on her face. They didn’t go to school together anymore. There had been years they didn’t share the same classes, but they’d always shared the same school – until now. Shilo was due to start private school clear on the other end of town soon, and Priscilla would go on attending in the local district. That alone was enough to feel like a guillotine had separated them – but Shilo shook her head and smiled at her reflection as Priscilla held up earrings featuring the eyes of peacock feathers to her ears, still pressing she should have them re-pierced.

With no extra cash for earrings, let alone even considering paying for piercings, Shilo wasn’t so sure about trying the old ice and needle trick again.

Her mouth stayed shut as Priscilla fidgeted with the rack of earrings, taking a nicer pair to hide in her sleeve. Shilo said nothing still as a hand smacked her on the butt, earrings slipped into her back pocket with a sleight of hand. She shot her friend an unhappy look through the mirror.

Priscilla coughed into her fist, “Wet blanket.”

Shilo was soon casting a glance back as they left the parlor. A few shops away, Priscilla retrieved the earrings from Shilo’s back pocket. “These will look good on you,” she said decisively, brandishing the stolen item. “Don’t you think?”

The tag sporting a pair of green rhinestone earrings was deposited in her hand. “Yeah,” said Shilo, pushing the evidence back out of sight into her pocket. She scanned the crowd of shoppers, seeking out anyone in uniform, but even when her search came up empty, she couldn’t relax. The best of GJ’s spies didn’t stand out anyway.

They finally made it to the food court. Shilo pulled out her change and counted nickels and dimes for a slice of pizza that once tasted like greasy cardboard but was now a delectable slice of heaven after the diet she’d been restricted to at the research center for the better half of the year.

Priscilla, with her bowl of chili cheese fries, criticized her for her choice in grub as she joined Shilo at a table. She showily unzipped her jacket, letting her crop top show for all to see, like she was really all that. Still, Shilo pulled into herself just a little, fixing her eyes down on the pizza that had gone cold while waiting for her friend. She was sweltering hot, but she zipped her own coat up a little tighter. She couldn’t go around showing off her skin like that anymore. Her sickly complexion attracted enough stares, and she didn’t need to be recognized as Shego for her pallid green skin alone.

Shilo had taken all of two bites, more focused on digesting the gossip around school and the neighborhood than she was on eating, when Priscilla licked her fingers suggestively and Shilo had to look back down again.

“Eleven o’clock,” said Priscilla, plucking up another chili-saturated crimp-cut fry. Shilo raised her brow in question, and Priscilla rolled her eyes. “My eleven,” reiterated her friend, and a chili cheese fry was used as a pointer before being scarfed down. “Don’t look now, but there’s a total creep checking you out.” If anyone was looking their way, it sure wasn’t because of Shilo.

“What?” she blurted and looked anyway. She didn’t find anyone staring at her, but she did see something just familiar enough to catch her eye: a raggedy parka and a head of dirty red hair.

It was the raving lunatic from earlier. He was counting change in the palm of his hand. Looking to menus. Checking his pockets and finding a hole.

The mall food court wasn’t the best place to find a meal on a budget, but Shilo turned back to her pizza, choosing not to think too hard on it. Where the beak-nosed man chose to scrounge a meal was none of her concern.

Except, now it sort of was. It was Shego’s concern. An oath to protect and aid the citizens of Go City and adjacent towns had been sworn on live television for thousands to see just a few short weeks ago. She’d been given a crash course on emergency aid, combat, and etiquette in preparation for her introduction as a guardian of the public.

She hadn’t needed a whole lot drilling to be told to be a Good Samaritan, even if she’d protested the extremes the supervising agency wanted her to go to. Shego had a reputation, but she wasn’t Shego right now. She was Shilo, and Shilo’s best friend was giving her a funny look at she stood.

It was no big deal. She had some leftover change in her pocket. Enough for something more substantial than an overpriced plain corndog she could see Robinson settling for as he stepped toward a counter.

++X++

By the time the sketchy man sat down at their table, he’d already blathered a bit about himself, as if in an attempt to put her at ease and make up for the poor first impression. He dealt with exotics, namely wildlife, so he claimed. The winged world was Dr. Robinson’s specialty, and he’d devoted his life to rescuing and rehabilitating birds of all kinds, from condors to hummingbirds. A glimpse at scars decorating his arms stood testimony, carved into him from beaks and claws of every size, worn like badges of honor.

“So…you’re a veterinarian?”

“Was,” corrected Dr. Robinson, and corrected himself again. “I-I mean. I’m qualified! I just…don’t have my office anymore.”

Across from Shilo, Prissy Priscilla heaved a sigh and leaned heavily on her fist. For the first time since the scruffy panhandler sat down at their table, she spoke, wondering, “Now what do you do?” Shilo knew better than to believe her friend was genuinely interested. It was merely a dig at an exposed sore spot.

Dr. Robinson was quiet for a moment before answering, “I’m in between jobs,” in between bites of chili cheese fries. Prissy had forfeited the snack to him after claiming she was on a diet anyway.

Shilo relaxed only slightly. He was just a veterinarian. There was a distinction between a mere animal vet and the doctors that had poked and probed her and studied her for weeks – months – on end in the name of science and the greater good.

It was no surprise Priscilla didn’t share the same concerns. After all, she hadn’t been quarantined after the incident back in April. She was eyeballing the man, relaxed and critical, not leery or suspicious as Shilo was, and not even a crowd of shoppers to eavesdrop deterred her from asking aloud, “You got bud? You stink like it.”

Before Shilo could kick her under the table to silently reprimand her for going around saying rude things or inquiring on illegal substances so openly, Dr. Robinson scooted his chair back. His eyes flickered from Prissy to Shilo and back. He was in no rush to voice a reply.

“She can keep a secret,” promised Priscilla on Shilo’s behalf, lowering her voice. “Right, Shi?”

“I…I do not have any on hand,” said the man carefully, withdrawing the tray of fries with him.

Priscilla puffed. “Well, you’re old, right?” she said. Shilo almost kicked her again, but she must have known it was coming, because her boot met open air.

Robinson frowned. “I’m only thirty—,” he began indignantly.

“Perfect,” said Priscilla with a smile.

Shilo couldn’t say she agreed with Priscilla’s newfound interest in the man or the ploy she was weaving. If she had a choice, she’d choose not to be part of it, but as things were, she didn’t have much of a say in the matter – because Prissy would do what Prissy pleased, and whether Shilo tagged along was up to her own moral code, which at the moment was a grey area. She couldn’t just leave her best friend to venture off with a strange man alone without someone to back her up.

Dark snow clouds made it impossible to see the sun setting, but it was growing ever darker by the minute as they left the mall, a clear indicator it was past curfew and high time she head home to fix dinner and prepare for a grand countdown on live television tonight – but Priscilla was pushy and always got her way, grabbing Shilo by the hand to insist she not be a spoilsport. The thought of leaving her alone with the shifty man made her stomach twist, so she yielded easily to the pressure and let Prissy pull her after the guy.

A tobacco store was soon located, and while Prissy was getting her latest nicotine fix, unabashedly chain-smoking away as they waited around the corner of yet another shop they legally had no business with, Shilo had to whisper over to wonder why they were still following Dr. Robinson. The man had just left them a second time to run inside the liquor store to make another purchase with Priscilla’s cash.

“Psh. Because he’s cool?” answered Prissy under her breath. She held up the cigarette as though it were proof, and passed it over.

Shilo took a hesitant drag, but couldn’t help shuddering to think of where Prissy’s lips may have been just hours ago. Whispered chatter and answers to questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask in the first place were interrupted soon enough by Dr. Robinson’s return.

“Cool,” praised Prissy, inspecting the label on the bottle she was presented with. Shilo recognized the brand as something her own father drank. The sight of hard liquor in her friend’s hands made her insides writhe.

“Well. I’ll see you girls around,” said the nervous man as he began to retreat into the shadows of the alleyway. It had begun to snow again, and it seemed to concern him as he glanced skyward. “I really must be getting home.”

“I thought you were homeless?” blurted Priscilla, already following him before Shilo could make a grab for her. “I’ve got a garage you can crash in if you need it.” Surely she just wanted to squeeze more favors out of him in return for her pocket change.

“Oh, no. I have an apartment. Not far from here.” Nerves flashed in his eyes as Priscilla sauntered toward him. “There’s no – it’s – it’s really no place for girls like you. It’s condemned, you see—”

Prissy sounded giddy as she grinned and giggled, “Sounds creepy. That where you keep the goods, Robby?”

“Priss!” Shilo called, still standing cemented to the spot where she’d been left.

Her best friend shadowing the scruffy man paused and glanced back just as she’d been about to grab his arm. “What?” she asked back, smiling innocently. “Too good for a little fun now? Is that it? Don’t be a drag, Shi.”

Shilo glanced back toward the street, and back to Priscilla slowly backing away toward Robinson as the man retreated. “We need to head home,” she insisted.

“I don’t have a curfew,” scoffed Priss. “You can go home if you’re so afraid of the dark.”

It wasn’t the dark she was afraid of. Most of the criminals she’d dealt with so far didn’t care what time it was. But leaving Priscilla alone with a strange man wasn’t happening. Shilo at least had a means of defending herself and others too, and if anything bad happened because she left Prissy alone with some creepy exiled veterinarian, she’d never be able to live with herself.

So for the sake of her best friend, she followed.

Shilo knew they didn’t belong there the moment they entered Robinson’s neck of the woods. She had a hunch Priscilla knew as well. Her best friend began to look nervous for a change as they ventured deeper into the sketchy neighborhood.

The uneasy girl even reached across in an attempt to hold Shilo’s hand, as she used to when they were in a rough area – but after an accidental zap, kept them to herself. Alienated by her own alien fire, Shilo did the same, keeping her fingers safely tucked in her armpits and accepting the chill in the gap between her and her best friend. If she didn’t get a grip on Lady Fate’s gift soon, the organization overseeing her underaged superhero team might insist she wear “fire-proof” gloves full time, for the safety of those around her, like Priscilla.

Priscilla didn’t seem terribly concerned for her own safety though, considering how willing she was to follow the strange man through the driving snow. They were led further from home with each step they took, and it was indisputably past sundown when Robinson cut into a dead-end alley.

He waved for them to follow him into the dark niche, out of view of potential witnesses. If it weren’t for the blanket of white snow, it might have been too dark to see anything at all. It didn’t make the rickety old fire escape the man gestured to any more welcoming though.

“It’s. Up here,” he said through chattering teeth, and breathed on his hands, still bound up in soggy worn gloves. He strained to smile, barely visible in the dark, and tried to jokily add, “This would be so much easier if one could fly.”

Shilo unfolded her arms and cast a glance up and down the street. There was no one coming from either direction. This man and her best friend already knew her secret. There was no harm in lighting up a hand to let some of the energy burn off. If anything, it served as a warning for Robinson, and might cause the ankle bracelet to ping for Global Justice to send out an agent to investigate or collect her for the unauthorized use.

She didn’t expect Priscilla to scoff at the sight of her green luminescence. Lip raised and eyes rolling, the girl turned her back to Shilo’s glow. Shilo recalled it, snuffing out the lantern-like plasma radiating and bubbling from her hand. She at least used the residual warmth in her palm to rub her other hand and return some feeling to her frozen fingers.

Her stomach twisted into a knot as she watched the tall man lift Priscilla up by the waist to aid in getting her footing on the hanging ladder above.

“You should wait down there, Shi,” called Priscilla through her exertion as she meticulously scaled her way up to the first landing. “Don’t think it’ll hold ya.”

Shilo said nothing. It was a dig at her feather-light weight. It wasn’t hard to see she was still on the scrawny side, still recovering from her bad experience at a research facility that had allegedly been shut down. Knobby bones, gaunt features barely filling out, and pants that needed help staying up on her hips wasn’t a good feeling, but she was making progress day by day. Personal trainers had been helping her recondition with diet and exercise, but she still felt like a shadow of her past self. She really wasn’t fit yet to be out fighting criminals of any degree – not that any minor should be out doing such risky work in the first place.

Eyeing the man extending his grubby paws out toward her, she knew without a doubt she could at least take him on, glow or no glow. Before he could assist her, with or without asking, she leapt up as high as she could, catching a grip on the slippery bars and scrabbling with her feet as her hands melted the ice coating the metal. She climbed and clawed her way up after Priscilla as her friend stepped back, clapping slowly.

“Me-ow,” jibbed Prissy. “Where’s the catsuit?”

“It’s not a catsuit,” Shilo hissed. At least she hadn’t called her Team Go uniform a onesie again.

She felt the shake of the metal platform underfoot then, and shot a glance down to Robinson hefting himself up. He was tall enough he didn’t have to jump, but his upper body strength was unexpected as he hoisted himself up. Being cornered on a fire escape wouldn’t concern Shilo so much if she was alone, but Priscilla was already climbing precariously higher.

Several stories up was a broken window, fully kicked in to allow safe entry. Snow blew in after them as they trespassed into the condemned building. The man’s so-called apartment exceeded expectations – at least in terms of how decrepit and dilapidated it was. Robinson might have known his way around in the dark, and Priscilla might have made a show of rolling her eyes about it, but Shilo lit the way with her radium-green plasma as there were no working utilities. Still, water could be heard dripping as if they were walking through a cave system, and filthy icicles hanging like stalactites in places didn’t bode well. Graffiti decorated the walls, some partly obscured by the mold and stains. Rats could be heard squeaking and scurrying about out of sight.

Shilo was barely glad Robinson led the way because the last thing she needed was his malodorous breath on the back of her neck to urge her onward. She had to continuously remind herself that the only reason she was following him at all was to keep herself between him and her friend.

Up a multitude of staircases and finally through a door that had been busted off its hinges, and Dr. Robinson sighed hugely and spread his arms abruptly, making Shilo jump back and snap out an arm to stop Priscilla in her tracks.

“Home sweet home!” he announced. “Mi casa es su casa.” He ducked around the wall, and a dim orange light flickered on with the hiss of propane, and then he was popping back into view, shuffling away into the dark depths of the cluttered room. “Top floor. You’re welcome to come meet my friends up on the roof, if you’d like. If you’ll excuse me, I’m late with dinner.”

Robinson was already heading for another staircase, grabbing a sack of birdseed off a shelf as he went. A door opened at the top, a gust of freezing air and a few snowflakes blew in, and then he was gone.

The moment they were left alone, Shilo shook her hand as if to put out a match, and she turned to Priscilla. “We shouldn’t be here,” she stated. It was true. It had to be true – because what teenage girl should be hanging around with some creepy thirty-whatever year old homeless man squatting in a condemned building?

“No way,” Priscilla protested, holding up the bottle of booze and cracking it open. “This guy’s cool.”

Their definitions of cool had seriously diverged over the past year. Shilo grabbed the neck of the bottle and pulled it down before Prissy could take a gulp. “You can get high at home. This isn’t worth it,” she pressed. She shouldn’t have even had to say so.

Prissy cracked a grin then and jerked the bottle away, taking a defiant swig anyway. The alcohol looked like it tasted bitter. “I’m exploring my options,” she said nonchalantly. “This guy might be able to hook me up with a little more. Y’never know.” She shrugged. “If he can, you’ll try it with me, won’t you?”

Shilo gawped, rendered just short of speechless. “No!” she blurted, the answer one of pure reflex.

The bleached-blonde’s mischievous smile vanished, replaced by a frown. “God, Shi. Don’t be a prude,” she hissed, shoving Shilo’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me that goodie-two-shoes shit has gotten to you?”

It had and it hadn’t. She was being pressured into the lifestyle with ultimatums, and there was a new code of conduct she had to follow, but even if she didn’t have to save face as an up-and-coming superhero, what Prissy was asking was still out of the question. Otherworldly gifts and an outrageous double-life had nothing to do with her resolve to get out of Robinson’s shabby niche of the city.

“That’s not it,” Shilo argued. “I have responsibilities! I have to get home for dinner, and get ready to go on air tonight for the countdown, and—,” she was interrupted before she could go over the entire list of reasons she couldn’t stay – why they shouldn’t stay.

“If you’re too busy to be my friend anymore, just say so, Shilo.” The words stung, but they were second to Priscilla’s dark eyes boring into her like a stake to the heart.

She reeled then, but Priscilla caught her wrist before she could step back. She was drawn into a sudden hug, Prissy’s arms nearly crushing the breath out of her in a hold that didn’t feel so great. It was a far cry from the buoyant girlish embraces they used to bounce and crash into when they were seven, ten, twelve, a year ago – and Shilo’s stomach twisted into a knot now as newfound reservations made her pause to peer over her best friend’s shoulder to check her hands for warning signs of igniting before letting her own arms loop around the girl to squeeze her back. Prissy didn’t stay long enough.

Cold sticky lips pressed to Shilo’s cheek, the ginger kiss devoid of affection. “If you need me to disappear from your life, I can do that for ya,” was not what she needed her best friend to whisper in her ear.

The arms around her slipped away, leaving Shilo bewildered and cold and hugging herself as she reluctantly let the girl withdraw from the hug. Priscilla spun around on her heel then to trot off after the shabby creep up the creaky staircase and onto the roof. A momentary cold gust blew in again, chilling Shilo to the bone.

Her throat was too thick to swallow, much less call after her friend to tell Priscilla she was being too melodramatic. The girl was the sort for theatrics – but the past month since Shilo had been home, things had been indisputably different. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed. She knew Priscilla’s fake smiles when she saw them, knew when Prissy was kidding around, knew when she was overreacting. She knew her best friend. And she knew her well enough to know she’d just made neither an offer nor a threat.

It was a promise.

Shilo didn’t even feel her legs move when she lurched forward suddenly. She flew up the steps and just about kicked the door open, her heart hammering as she burst out onto the snowy rooftop. She whirled around, scanning the white-blanketed surroundings as icy wind blew through her, a flurry of snowflakes breezing past the hems of her jacket to sting her burning skin.

Dr. Robinson was spotted beside a shack-like structure, chattering and gesticulating to himself. The bottle of liquor in his hand made her stomach churn and she scanned the snow for signs of tracks that lead to the parapet, but there were none, as far as she could see. He cocked an eyebrow as she stalked toward him, fists glowing.

“Where’s Priss?” she demanded, stepping past him to take a look inside the stinking little rooftop shed. There was nothing but racks and cubby holes to be found inside, filled with dozens of sleeping and cooing pigeons.

“Your friend? I haven’t seen her,” said Robinson. “But I can help you look.”

“Bullshit.” Shilo whipped around to face him, her eyes drawn to the liquor in his grip. “She just came up here. Who were you talking to?” Her voice was rising. Frantic sparks of green energy were jumping from her fingers. She clenched her fists tight again.

“My pigeon,” Robinson answered, sweeping a small white dove off the nearest roost outside the coop. The symbol of peace, white as the falling snow, perched serenely on his finger. His smile was less white, less peaceful, as he offered a reasonable explanation, “It’s dark inside. Maybe your friend slipped past you.”

Shilo was backing away now, blinking and reeling, if not a little dazed. She scanned the rooftop once more, hardly hearing his offer again to help her look as she circled the one and only thing her best friend could possibly be hiding behind, but the girl was nowhere to be found. No tracks in the snow lead to the edge to indicate foul play.

With the cold of desertion sinking in, Shilo didn’t waste her breath calling for a friend who clearly didn’t want to hold a friendship any longer. At what point her shoulders fell in defeat and she traced the path back through the dark condemned high-rise, she wasn’t sure, but it came shortly after the threat of tears welled up.

She was freezing and soaked from head to toe by the time she trudged home to her own neighborhood, crushed and hours past curfew. She was already late, but stopping by her best friend’s house on the way to ask if she was home hadn’t helped anything. She’d worn a fake smile and everything – but as promised, the girl had vanished. It felt that way anyway, when the girl’s parents refused to answer the door. Unsurprising, as they’d made it clear weeks ago that they didn’t want her around once they’d learned of her tracking anklet and supposed probation, as if she was the bad influence or some kind of criminal now.

Given everything that had turned her life upside down the past year, questioning if the girl ever existed at all really was the last thing she needed.

What she needed was to forget about the empty space left by the stake yanked out of her heart like a massive thorn, and her numb fingers and toes, and her stuffy nose, and the scolding she’d received the second she came walking through her front door.

Discarding sodden slush-covered clothes to the hamper, Shilo reached into every pocket, as per habit, to empty them. A few pennies, a soggy receipt, a plastic spider, shoplifted rhinestone earrings – something was missing. Heart beginning to thud a desperate beat as her hands grew warm, Shilo turned each pocket inside out to be sure.

Shego’s suppressant medication had gone missing.

[dearrrabbit]

if ur still taking kevmilo reqs,,, can i rq kevmilo sunset / night time at the beach....

god of coursw you can i willingly lay my LIFE down for you...

-----------------

The beach was lit up orange and yellow with the fading evening, the distinctive smell of brine and sunscreen filling the air as Kevin stood on the beach, feeling the day's heat in the sand at his feet.

People were starting to filter out as they began their walk, tired children carried by parents, and laughing groups having to be tugged from place to place by their leaders. Milo had taken off his shoes at the beginning, to walk along the surf, hand out as he tried to co-erce his boyfriend in coming with him, into the water. "C'monnn," He drags the word out, "Just waist-deep, I'll be with you the whole time."

Kevin chuckled and took his hand, still weaving and picking past larger waves, that drenched them up to their ankles. "Isn't it, like, dangerous to swim at sunset?" He squawks as Milo uses the leverage on his hand to pull him flush to his body, dissolving into real laughter.

"Not with a partner!" Milo protests, leading them to a spot where large rocks jutted out, water lapping at their knees. Kevin rests against the rock, heart swelling at the feeling if Milo's (cold) hands around his waist, "Be my partner?"

Kevin leans up, closing the distance netwwen them with a kiss, shrugging, "Fine. We can go 'swimming'." Milo steals another kiss, as if in celebration, and slips to chest- deep water, which is, slightly, deeper for Kevin. Though he wouldn't admit it, standing on tiptoes. It's freezing, but they perserve, swimming and splashing at eachother, 'till Milo's hair was soaked, and out of it's pony, and Kevin's hair was damp, clothes sticking to their bodies with the promise of chilling them even further.

----

"It is...so cold." Kevin shudders, holding his arms, as Milo hums, toweling out his own hair before tossing a warm towel to Kevin, who takes it with a pleased gasp. "Oh my God, good thinking."

Milo snickers, "Don't praise me for leaving the towels in a hot car until you partake in warm soda." Kevin hops into the bed of the truck, swinging his legs as he cracked open a Coke, passing another can on to Milo.

They both sip. And grimace. And turn to each other, shaking their heads.

"Not your smartest moment." Kevin tries not to laugh, patting his shoulder as Milo swills it down begrudgingly.

Milo looks back at him and something about Kevin, against the purple sky and waves, makes him feel complete. Like maybe, this is what made it worth it, this was whatever entity was tasked with his life's way of apologizing. A pretty boy and a pretty night, and a pretty life. He'd have to find a way of saying that that.. Didn't seem rambley and insane. Kevin deserved to know how good he was.

So, mulling it over lukewarm Coke, and leaning into the arm around him, he smiles. And he rests.