#so once species enters the mix people need a way to take their [identity word] and modify it

[roughentumble]

then people in the marvel universe start saying something like (prefix)ttracted to mean like. when you're a certain sexuality but attracted to all species. i.e. all genders and all species would be panttracted. someone who's gay but doesnt mind species would be gayttracted. someone coins lesttraction and then gets cancelled for using "les" since it's used in a derogatory way but it still catches on and becomes the de facto word for that sexuality because its catchy.

[detectivedreameater]

What We Do In The Shadows|| Morelia and Marley

TIMING: A few nights ago probably PARTIES: @morelias and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Sometimes you have a nice meet up with a shadowy gal pal, and sometimes that dinner is interrupted by a sentient tablecloth.

In all honesty, Morelia didn’t know what she was doing going on a date with someone she didn’t know. It wasn’t even an exaggeration - she didn’t even know the name of the woman, let alone her species. But, hey, she had nothing better to do and she was pissed enough at Orobas to go out and have fun on her own (though, deep down she knew he wouldn’t care). Best case scenario, the mystery woman could be a powered human and she’d get a different kind of meal that night - worst case scenario, a warden could be waiting on the other side of the table. But alas, there was no point in being a paranoid fae, and the knife always pressed against her left thigh underneath her dress gave her a fake sense of security. 

She was used to the strange looks she got every time she left her house, and when Morelia entered the Thai Thanic it was no different. Then again, only weirdos wore sunglasses in the middle of the night. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was extremely over dressed. Still, she didn’t care, and looked around until she spotted the promised leather jacket, a satisfied grin appearing on her face as she realized that the other wasn’t joking when she called herself attractive. Slowly, she made her way towards the table, her purse held between both hands, the clinking noise of her heels lost between all the chatter around them. “You look like you could use some company, my dear.” 

This wasn’t anything unusual for Marley to be doing. Especially at night, under the cover of the darkness that she felt so attached to. A part of. Mara, after all, could not be killed at night, so of course she would feel that way. She’d arrived to the restaurant early and procured a table near the back-- for privacy, of course. She settled her sunglasses on her face, feeling the comfort they brought her more so than the regular pair she carried. It might’ve been odd to most, but she didn’t care. They were as much a part of her as the need to feed on fear at this point. Most people didn’t bother to ask her, either. Something about the intimidating aura she put off. Even the other detectives often shirked from her.

But when a voice cut through the crowd, low and lilting, and Marley looked up-- she was met with a sight she had not prepared for. Someone else wearing sunglasses, eyes hidden behind their sheen. Another mara? Could it be possible? A tentativeness gripped Marley’s chest, but she just smiled. “Only if you’re wearing the lace you promised,” she said, even though she could clearly see the lacey dress she’d promised to meet her in. Marley took a moment to stand, looking at her up and down, taking in the sight. Held out her hand. “You didn’t disappoint.”

Being stared at didn’t bother Morelia in the slightest. She never really knew if it was a personality trait or if it came with the lampade package, but she knew that she had beyond exceptional beauty and adored how it took breaths’ out of people's lungs. It was pleasant and it showed on her face, but it didn’t wash away the intrigue of the other also wearing sunglasses this late at night. There was nothing suggesting that she was one her kind; the usual pulling she felt when another fae was nearby was completely absent, and Morelia couldn’t help but wonder if she was just one of those weirdos people always mistook her for, or if there was something more to it.

A soft laugh rumbled in her chest. “I never do. And there is more lace, in case you were wondering.” Not that she had really promised anything, really, but it felt good to be acknowledged anyways. With an arched eyebrow, she took her hand. A firm grip, but nothing to taste. So far, this was looking promising, but Morelia couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the other didn’t have magic inside. Still, a smile was still plastered on her face as she left her purse on the table. “Shall we?” 

The other woman’s voice sounded like a cloud, if it were to speak soft and lofty. Marley was immediately smitten with it, smiling as she took her hand. Not too cool to the touch, but it was still more so than others. She was pretty sure mara didn’t run cold, but she didn’t come here to parse out what species she was. She came here to have a good time, and if that second part happened as well, then it was just a bonus. Her eyes dropped ever so subtly at the mention of more lace. “Oh?” was all she said, raising a brow. “Well, guess I’ll have to use my imagination for now.” She motioned to the table. “We shall.” Sat back down across from her, eyes sharp behind her glasses, wondering how she wanted to play it this time. Licked her lips. “I have a fun idea,” she said after a moment, “to keep the mystery alive.”

“Let us hope your imagination doesn’t run out.” If her eyes hadn’t been covered, Morelia would’ve winked in her direction, but instead she sat down and laced her fingers together as she rested both hands on the table. She looked ready to do business, and maybe, in a way, she was. There was something about her voice that made her feel drawn to her, and for a moment the fae only wanted to keep her talking. The appearance of her tongue for half a second threw her off for a moment, and she was thankful the other couldn’t notice that her eyes were fixated on her lips. “Hmm. Mystery you say? If it has to do with our identities it would be a pity. I would love it if a woman as beautiful as you gave me her name.”

Marley’s eyes followed the other woman as she sat across from her, hands hooked together in such a neat way, resting on the table. She was much more formal than Marley herself, sitting with legs slightly spread, elbows on the table, chin on her knuckles. She tilted her head. “Oh, well, if you wanna know my name that bad, I’m at least gonna make you work for it,” she said, giving a smile, soft but somehow devious, filled with her every intention for the night. Her thoughts, for a moment, slipped back to Anita. And how this woman’s allure was just like hers. She pulled the thought away and focused on her, shifting so that her cheek rested in her palm and she rolled her lip between her teeth a moment. “Think you can live with that?”

Another laugh rolled off Morelia, her body relaxing a little. Oh, if she knew she wanted more than to know her name, and she was glad the other hadn’t picked up her wording. Popular knowledge of being careful with your name had spread faster than she’d liked, but every now and then she was lucky enough to get one - not that she needed it, of course. Ann Marie had worked so far, and she didn’t need a new one for now. She focused on her mouth once again, her own lips pursing while her head tilted slightly to one side, as she pretended to be pondering. “Well, I’ve always loved a challenge. This time is no different, my dear.” One of her hands extended, on the table, softly poking her arm. “What can I do to get it?”

Marley shivered at the touch, watching the other woman closely. Her eyes dropped to the hand on her arm for a moment, before coming back up. She wondered if they were looking at each other, or at different parts of each other. She’d never met another person so hidden behind glasses, like hers. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, words she’d somehow ached to ask someone else, but never did. Never would. “What’s a woman like you doing in a town like White Crest?” 

Her fingers lingered for a moment before returning to her side of the table. Morelia hadn’t expected that question as it kinda drifted away from the whole concept of mystery, but she would take the bait. “I needed a place where I could fit in and this town has given me exactly that. There was, also, an open job at the hospital that I was more than happy to fill.” She also needed to move away as far away from Virginia as she could, and her criminal record mixed with the lack of passport made it difficult to leave the country. Both truths that told different sides of the same story. Leaning back on the chair, she casually fixed her sunglasses. “I could ask the same. What does this town offer that has made you stay?”

“The hospital? Interesting,” Marley said, still leaning forward on the table. She was already fascinated, but this was making it more so. “This town certainly has its charm, and finding a place for everyone to fit in, no matter how...strange.” She was half tempted to take her glasses off, but didn’t. “Oh, the mystery and the death rate, of course. Do you know how many cold cases this town has? How many unexplainable deaths? How could I not be drawn here?” The waiter came by and they ordered drinks-- a gin and tonic for Marley-- before she focused on her counterpart for the night. “So here’s a hypothetical-- you meet someone in a bar, and you get on well with them, but you know they’re hiding something. Do you go home with them, or keep the night going?”

Her lips pressed together as she suppressed a soft laugh. With her luck, of course she had ended up having a blind date with a cop. “I always thought the lines of White Crest’s finest were filled with old, bald men. I’m pleased to see I was wrong.” After the other, she ordered sangria for herself. Morelia’s mouth remained closed for a few seconds after the other spoke, thinking about a good answer for that. “I guess my answer would depend on what I think they’re hiding. There are few things that would make me back away from an interesting person.” And like that, she took her glasses off and folded them, placing them on the table. She knew her eyes weren’t exactly special, not when glamoured at least, but she was well aware that her stolen magic was going to run out in the next couple of days, which meant that it was only a matter of hours before the black hues turned disappeared, leaving space to a glowing silver. “And, of course, the supernatural isn’t one of them.”

“Don’t worry,” Marley said with a smirk, “there’s plenty of old, bald men on the force still.” She grinned again, watching her, watching her movements as she answered, the way she held herself, the way her hair fell down her shoulders, the way she remained posed and postured as she talked. Something practiced, not bred. Watched as she reached up and took her glasses off and-- there was nothing strange behind them. So, why? No glowing red eyes, no iridescence. A glamor, perhaps? Marley knew a lot of supernaturals chose to glamor, and most Fae had to, to fit in. Was this woman Fae? She certainly had the air of one. “Few things, huh?” she said, leaning back finally. A hand reached up, fingers pushing gently against the wires of her own glasses. After a moment, she pulled them from her face, eyes cast down. “Gotta say, I like a woman who knows what she’s about,” she said, then, lifting her gaze, glowing red across the table. “Like what you see so far?”

Both her eyebrows shot up when the other looked up. Red eyes could only mean one of two things: either she was a vampire trying to impress her, which she had already discarded earlier after shaking her warm hand; or she was a mara, which made sense looking back. Morelia wasn’t really familiar with the species, not recalling ever crossing paths with one in the past at all. Still, she knew about them; or at least had heard stories about their fear induced appetite and how they were practically unkillable at night. A smirk slowly showed on her own face, suddenly very impressed. Had their meeting happened during the day, her reaction would’ve been completely different; but she was also protected by the night - in a different sense, but that was still effective. A soft laugh escaped her. “I had already figured out this night would be interesting, but you brought it to the next level. I’m definitely enjoying the evening.” Resting her right elbow on the table, Morelia used her hand to support her chin, her turn to lean forward on the table. She let her glamour go, flashing her own silver eyes for a few seconds, wondering if she had already figured out what she was yet. “Are you?”

Silver eyes. Marley knew about silver eyes. A species of fae. They were also creatures of the dark, of the night, slipping through shadows, just like herself. Though where she went invisible, they became shadows. And where she became intangible, they leapt through the dark from spot to spot. Still, it was almost nice meeting another who was wholly like her, but wholly different. After a moment, she slid her glasses back on, and looked across the table. The waitress came back with their drinks and set them down, gathering their food orders next. She wondered if the other woman actually needed human food, or if she was like her and fed off something other. “Oh, I’m definitely having a good time,” she smirked, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass, before dipping a finger in, and sticking it in her mouth, drawing it out slowly. “Okay,” she said after a moment, “you can ask for my name again.”

Morelia’s smile fell slightly as the other put the glasses back on, a little disappointed that their little show was over, but understanding why she did it as the waitress appeared. She took a quick look at the menu that seemed to have been forgotten until now, picking the first vegan thing her eyes landed on. Dealing with human food was always a gamble with her, as she was never quite sure how much iron she’d had to deal with. Avoiding meat and legumes usually seemed to do the trick. Both her eyes narrowed as the other teased her, and she wondered if maras were able to tell when a heartbeat sped up. “What happened to the mystery you were aiming for?” Though she knew the trick most likely wouldn’t work now that she had shown her true colors, there was no shame in trying once more. “If I ask nicely, will you give it to me this time?” 

The fae’s choice of food was interesting, though it made sense, once Marley remembered their weakness to iron. She looked down a moment, waiting for the waitress to walk away, before casting her glance back up at her counterpart. She didn’t miss the slight droop in her expression which signaled her disappointment at Marley’s eyes hidden behind shades again. Still, in public, without a glamour, she didn’t want the questions. A grin grew onto her face when she spoke again and Marley shrugged, cheek resting in her hand, the other playing with the little straw in her drink. “I said you could ask for it,” she replied, “I never said I was going to tell you.” Plucked the lime out from her drink, stuck it between her lips and bit down.

Another laugh threatened to leave Morelia’s mouth, but a sudden tug to the fabric beneath her arm made her attention suddenly shift, and she moved her eyes around, wondering if she had been too mesmerized by the mara that she hadn’t noticed a waitress bumping into their table. Weird. She blinked a few times, looking back at the shades, resting her chin on her hand once more. “Being a tease suits you, my dear. Maybe if I give you mine you can change your…” Her voice trailed off as another tug of the fabric made her whole arm tremble, and Morelia straightened as she watched the corners of the tablecloth move on its own, tangling around both of their wrists. The hell? Her free hand tried to yank the cloth, but it didn’t bulge, getting tighter by the second. “Are you --- Is this your doing?”

Something was happening, and in the blink of an eye, there was a strip of white fabric wrapping around Marley’s wrist. “What the--” she started, then looked up. The other woman was wrapped up, as well. “I’m not--” but she didn’t get another chance to say anything when the cloth yanked on both of them, pulling them from the booth and crashing to the ground with their drinks and everything else on the table. Eyes turned their direction. Marley felt the cloth begin to tug again and in an instant, allowed her body to go intangible. The cloth slipped right through, seemingly choking itself into a knot. But the other woman wasn’t so lucky, as the cloth wrapped around her neck and began to squeeze. “Fuck!” Marley said, reconstituting herself and standing up, grabbing at the cloth, trying to yank it back. “The hell is this thing? Someone get a knife!” she shouted to the room, people looking on in confusion and shock. “Don’t just stand there!”

The dim artificial lights were enough to avoid Morelia from disappearing, as there wasn’t a dark enough shadow she could blend with. As soon as the other woman easily disentangled herself, she let out a curse that was quickly cut short by the fabric wrapping around her neck, and thankfully she had been quick enough to slip one hand in between before it started pulling itself, tightening and quickly stopping the air flowing to her lungs. Shit. The lack of air made it impossible for her to fight against the thing; her hand wasn’t enough to allow the passage of oxygen, and Morelia came to the conclusion that if the other woman didn’t do anything, she would die a very humiliating death. Half her glamour was gone, panic and fear slowly but steadily rising inside of her, and her head felt lighter each second that passed, a weird and painful burning sensation on her lungs as they screamed for air. Silver eyes tried to find the mara, silently screaming for help.

Marley didn’t stop to question the black painting the woman’s skin, as her glamor supposedly slipped, opting to stow that information away for later. She leapt for the cloth trying to strangle her, wrapping her hands into it and tearing a large chunk off, sending her flying. Whatever it was screamed, which meant it was sentient. It could feel pain. Scrambling back up, Marley dug into her pocket, pulling out the lighter she kept there. Didn’t really think about the implication of setting a cloth that was strangling someone on fire, and flicked the lighter. Flame erupted. The sheet caught fire in an instant. Another screech made Marley drop the lighter, clasping her hands over her ears. Everyone in the restaurant tumbled with the noise as well. Someone was calling the police, others were scrambling to get away, abandoning their dinners. Someone had been heading towards them with the knife Marley had requested, but had since abandoned that quest as well. Marley watched the fire blaze up the creature’s skin as it screamed, finally loosening its grip enough for the other woman to escape.

If she wasn’t scared before, then she definitely was once whatever was around her neck went up in flames. For the first time in several decades, Morelia screamed, or at least attempted to scream with the very little air inside her lungs. Flashing images of a burning house in front of her eyes, accompanied by the feeling of a lit torch and dried grass on her hands; a past mistake that would haunt her forever. As soon as the thing loosened its grip on her throat, Morelia slipped her other hand between her skin and the fabric to pull it and the fire away from her, the screeching next to her ear nothing compared to other screams she’d had to deal with in the past few weeks, but this time she didn’t get resistance from it, the now dead cloth engulfed in flames next to both of them. Her chest felt tight in a way she didn’t know, and even though there wasn’t anything around her throat she was still struggling to breathe, black tears running down her face as her right hand touched her red marked neck, and her body suddenly collapsed from the effort, her glamour completely gone as her head hit the floor.

Shit. That was Marley’s first thought. A seasoned detective, trained in emergency tactics and for stressful situations and all Marley could think was-- shit. The next moment, someone screamed. Marley whipped around and grabbed another table cloth, yanking it from the table behind her, hoping it, too wasn’t sentient. Cover her up was her second thought, registering moments after the table cloth was lain over Morelia’s unconscious-- gods, please don’t be dead, she so didn’t need that kind of attention right now-- body. Pushing forward, Marley scooped her up into her arms, even as people started to head their way again. “Out of the way!” Marley barked in her authoritative voice. “I’m an officer of the law!” Flashed her badge as much as she could while carrying a body-- person, carrying a person-- across the room. People shuffled out of the way quickly. Someone offered to help, but Marley ignored them. Maybe she didn’t even hear them. Get her somewhere hidden, was her final thought, as she barged from the restaurant and bee-lined for her car. Safety was behind her tinted windows, laying the woman down and removing the sheet. Skin, pale slate, swallowing the shadows around it. Eyes closed but Marley could remember the swirling, white glow they’d had in the moments before her glamor returned. Antlers, digging into the leather of her back seat. Shit, she thought again, crawling into the car behind her and shutting the door. “Please don’t be dead.” 

A pounding headache blasted Morelia’s head, though if it was from hitting the floor or because her brain was still needy for oxygen wasn’t clear. Her whole body groaned as she slowly opened her eyes, confusion washing over her. Where was she? It took several seconds to realize she was in a car and that her glamour was completely gone. It wasn’t hard to add one plus one and determine that her companion had carried her, and the sensation of someone next to her only confirmed it. She blinked several times, before it suddenly hit her. She was alone in the car of a stranger that had recently set her on fire. Glowing silver eyes flashed open as she scrambled to sit as far away from the other, antlers hitting the roof in the process making her wince. “What the FUCK--” She mumbled, her back pressed against the door. her heartbeat steadily speeding up. “--were you thinking when you set that.. that thing on fire? I could’ve died----” And it hit her. She saved her. She was in debt. Shit. Without adding anything, Morelia opened the car door, and with the advantage of the dark night, she merged with the shadows, getting away as fast as possible. 

Marley frowned. She didn’t protest, didn’t argue, didn’t even attempt to stop her as she raced from the car and disappeared into the night. Lamapde, that was what they were. She looked up to examine the scratch marks on the roof of her car now, and the torn bits of leather on the seats. She understood the implication of what saving a fae meant. Eventually, she got out of the car and looked around, but it didn’t seem as if she was coming back. Not even a thank you. Well, that was fine. She knew how to contact her. With one last glance back to the shadows, Marley said, “You owe me.”

[slightly-nerdy-rambles]

Robstarweek Day 6: Children, Plural (Prompt: Children)

I was very excited to see the prompt “Children” because 1) it encourages lots of cute parenthood/next-gen shenanigans and 2) it gave me an opportunity to use an idea I already had floating around. As you might have guessed by the title, I had a bit of fun taking advantage of the specific word choice for this prompt.

Children, Plural

In his defense, Nightwing had not freaked out when he first learned his wife was pregnant.

Why should he? They had planned this, carefully. The process of starting a family was complicated enough without the parents being both different species and full-time superheroes, but they had researched and discussed and gotten advice and outlined exactly how active on the team Starfire could be before the baby came and how they would handle alerts after.

…He really should have known that all those plans would go out the window once it actually happened, but he had been too busy assuring himself that he was ready for this. And then when Starfire had rushed to him, practically glowing, with the news, he’d been so happy.

(He still was happy, too. He had to stop and remind himself that. It was just… a little overwhelming right now.)

But then had come one of those odd little moments that crops up from time to time when you share your home with four superpowered beings. Apparently, the new little life force had just gotten strong enough for Raven’s passive senses to pick up, because she’d felt the need to round up both parents-to-be and tell them about it.

Mostly because there were two of them.

Nightwing groaned again and laid his head down on his desk, pulling lightly at his hair. He’d shut himself into his office on the pretense of working on a case and blocked off his emotions from Raven’s half of their mental bond. She wouldn’t be suspicious of that. Probably.

Look, he just needed a little time to process everything, okay?

…Great, how he was arguing with himself. He let out a slow breath and tried to focus.

Twins. Twins. This was a thing that was happening now. He was going to have two babies at the same time. He and Star hadn’t really planned to have more than one child at all, unless perhaps they decided to retire from hero work to focus on their family. That wasn’t something either of them intended to do right now, but somehow they were still going to have to raise two infants at once.

It really drove home the fact that Tarmaraneans (and most Tamaranean hybrids) could fly at just a few months old. Could Nightwing fly? No. The “wing” in his name was a lie. Why had he made that part of his adult hero identity anyway?

…Right. In any case, until now he had expected to take care of his flying baby with a careful eye, some help from his teammates, and maybe the occasional bit of clever acrobatics. He could accept that. He could deal with it. But he wasn’t so sure he could keep up with two of them at once. What if they went zipping off in different directions? What if it was his turn to watch the kids while the others were on a mission, and he lost track of one of them?

What if they got hurt because of him?

And that wasn’t even considering what could happen once they got older and their other powers manifested. Surrounded by superpowered, often mischief-loving honorary aunts and uncles, he had no doubt that they would pick up roughhousing. And if sibling rivalry cropped up, well… Nightwing had seen firsthand what kind of destruction a pair of warring Tamaranean siblings could wreak.

What was he supposed to do about any of that? He could take on supervillains and monsters, but that required using weapons and actively fighting them. He could keep a handle on his team, but only because they were all mature enough to listen to him (or at least not do anything too stupid when they refused to listen). How was he going to handle his own children when they had tantrums or fights or stubborn phases, when they would be stronger and faster than him?

Nightwing’s face was practically pressed into the surface of his desk now, his fingers tangled in an unruly mess of hair. He couldn’t, that was the answer. Starfire would know what to do, and be perfectly capable of doing it, and the others with their superstrength and magic and shape-changing abilities could probably help as well, but him?

He was going to be a terrible father.

So absorbed was Nightwing in his emotional breakdown that he didn’t even hear the light knock on the door behind him. After a few seconds, it opened to Changeling’s face poking its way in.

The other Titan opened his mouth to say something, but then he got a good look at his hopelessly panicked leader. His mouth snapped shut, he backed out and closed the door silently, and then he turned tail and hurried back to the common room.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Starfire, meanwhile, was in an exceedingly good mood today.

She flitted around the kitchen, humming a wordless tune to herself as she prepared a sort of “Tamaranean fusion” dish that she and Cyborg had perfected years ago. Her feet barely touched the ground – probably a result of the emotional highs and other extremes that naturally accompanied Tamaranean pregnancies, but she was hardly complaining. It suited her attitude now, and if it flipped to rage later, she could take that out in training or perhaps on the next villain who dared to threaten her home and family.

Twins. Twins. She had always wanted two or three children and had been admittedly disappointed when she and Nightwing discussed the matter and decided to minimize the possible complications by focusing on just one. But now…

Okay, so this development had thrown them for a bit of a loop. It would probably present some new challenges to raising a family. But wasn’t that how family worked? It was never meant to be easy. And regardless of the challenges, she had people she loved by her side, and she knew she always would.

In the end, she believed that Fate had smiled upon her and her husband, that it found a way to still bless them with two beautiful children.

The sudden sound of the common room door opening drew Starfire’s attention out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her mixing bowl to see Changeling entering the room. He had an uneasy frown on his face, and he kept glancing back down the hall until his eyes suddenly met hers.

“Uh, Star?” he called to her, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I think your husband’s broken.”

Starfire dropped what she was doing immediately and touched down, running to him. “What do you mean?”

Changeling shrugged. “Don’t know why, but when I went to ask him a question, he was headdesking so hard he looked like he was trying to fuse with it. He didn’t hear me come in either, which is super not Nightwing.”

Well that didn’t sound promising. Brows knitting in concern, she excused herself and darted through the doorway and up the stairs.

Sure enough, Nightwing was in his office, looking exactly as Changeling had described. He didn’t even look up when she entered, but he jolted upright and turned to face her when she put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“What is wrong, love?” she asked him gently.

Nightwing blinked rapidly – Starfire wasn’t sure whether he even realized he’d taken off his mask – and then turned back around and started scrounging at the papers scattered on his desk.

“I just… can’t find a break in the… uh…” he glanced at one of the papers, “Killer Moth case.”

Starfire’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Richard.”

Nightwing winced at her warning tone, and then let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I shouldn’t lie to you, I’m sorry. It’s just…” His eyes flicked to her stomach for a moment, and then back up to meet her gaze.

“…I just can’t help but worry, and I didn’t want you worrying too.”

Starfire took a moment to search his face, trying to parse what exactly had him so rattled. With a low sigh of her own, she knelt down by his chair and took one of his hands in hers.

“Nightwing, we have talked about this,” she told him, her voice gentle. “The Tower’s defenses are powerful and have not been breached in years. I know how to defend myself and when to hold back from a risky situation, and I wouldn’t dream of putting our children in danger. They are protected, and they will be as long as we are there for them.”

But even as she spoke, her husband started shaking his head. “No, it’s not that.” His forehead wrinkled in thought for a moment before he amended, “at least, not entirely. It’s more that… Twins are hard, Kor. Even when they don’t have powers… or when both parents have the same powers as them. I just… don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up with them, if they end up with both flight and Tamaranean high-strength.”

Starfire listened patiently, her eyes never leaving his face. She waited a few moments longer, to see if he had any other worries. Nightwing just grimaced and dropped his gaze, as if ashamed to have his fears laid out in the open.

In spite of herself, Starfire felt a little smile tug at the corner of her lip. “Is that all?”

Nightwing looked up at her in surprise, but she just shook her head. “Of course it will be difficult. Families always are, even perfectly ordinary ones. In all honesty, I’m a little afraid too.”

She squeezed his hand, letting the smile overtake her features. “But that is okay, because we are doing it together. And we are fortunate enough to have our closest friends to help us when we need it. You do not need to always ‘keep up’ with the children to be a good father, because you will not be doing it alone. I will help you with that if it ever becomes an issue, just as you will do the same for any of my shortcomings.”

Nightwing took a moment to absorb all that. He blinked once, took a deep breath, and then managed to crack a tiny smile of his own.

“Not alone, huh? I can’t believe after all these years you still have to remind me that.”

Starfire giggled and rose slightly, leaning forward to give him a light peck on the lips. “Only rarely. But I will always be ready to remind you when you need it.”

She felt his arm curl around her back, and she let him pull her closer to return the kiss with a lingering one of his own.

“And I’ll always be ready to listen,” he promised, as he lifted his other hand to rub lightly over her abdomen.

[theroseandcrown]

The Rose & Crown: Chapter Six

Rating: M Chapters: 6/24

Summary: The villain-ess we all love has revealed herself to be part of the mystery the Doctor and Clara are trying to solve. But how far does her reach go? The Doctor discovers what Missy has been up to since he last saw her back on Skaro.

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“Missy,” the Doctor whispered through gritted teeth. He could feel anger building inside of him. He should have been able to sense her presence before yet was too preoccupied with his companion’s unknowingly dark secret to detect her. The last time he saw her was back on Skaro amidst a civil war raging between the living and dead Daleks. She had locked Clara away in the armour of a deceased Dalek and tried to convince him to destroy her. If it weren’t for his intuitiveness of the inner workings of their species and knowing a Dalek would never utter the word ‘mercy,’ Clara would be dead. He had no knowledge of what became of her after he and Clara escaped. He left her behind to fend for herself during the chaos. Knowing her, she probably found some clever way off of the planet. All he did know was that he told her to run and run she had. Even now, as she stood high above him, all the risks he took to save her in the past came rushing into his mind. He realized how stupid he was for falling right into her trap yet again.

“I don’t believe it,” Clara admitted in shock. She would never be able to understand why the Doctor let her escape that day. He and the Master’s history went so deep in time it would take an eternity to grasp what they were to each other. Friends? Foes? As much as she tried to be understanding, his weakness was the hope that one day she would change her ways and be the friends they once were so many years ago. Back when they were just children.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming to my little soirée,” Missy continued, wielding her signature sonic-parasol beside her. “The auction will begin shortly. So until then, keep your panties on. Or don’t! Either way, we’re going to have a bit of fun now, aren’t we?” The crowd shouted their cheers to her as she stood above them like a Goddess, all except for two. Her head turned towards the cheerless guests sulking below her, her eyes connecting with her old friend. A smile peeled over her lips as she descended the stairs, greeting her followers in the crowd with her devious flirtatious behaviour. Approaching the Doctor, her smile widened. “My my my, I knew you could never stay away for very long,” she gloated as his eyes burned with anger. “I have to say, this obsessive infatuation you have with me is rather sexy.”

“I should have known it was you behind all of this. What are you playing at this time, Missy? Are you planning to turn all these people into more Cybermen? Or perhaps you’re in league with the Zygons now. I can never seem to keep up to speed with all of your charming charades.” He held on to his temper as best he could.

“Oh, Doctor,” she pouted her lips. “You’re so predictable when you’re wearing your cross-pants.” She noticed Clara standing next to him. “And Clara, so good to see you again! How’s my girl? Have you been treating my boyfriend well?”

“I’m not your girl. Or did you forget that little bit where you tried to have me killed?” she fumed, resisting the urge to hit her in her evil face.

“Let’s just consider that my way of flirting, dear.” She watched as Clara turned red with hatred. “Whew! It must be absolutely boiling with all these sweaty bodies about. You look a bit flushed. By the way, how are you feeling these days?” she provoked her, looking her up and down.

“Stop playing games,” he interjected. “What’s this auction really all about?”

“Charity, darling,” she teased.

“Charity for whom?”

“Why, for me of course!”

“What could you possibly need all that money for? Planning a holiday somewhere? Off to some hot spot all the kids are talking about these days?” Missy laughed at the old man which only made him more furious. “Oh, you silly little man. There’s more to life than just money. Here we are a trade-way where just about anything can be considered payment.” She glanced at Clara. “Including pets.” She watched Clara’s heated reaction, grinning to herself. “Listen, just between us girls, with a dress like that you don’t have to stick around this frumpy old face. There are plenty of younger men in this room willing to sweep you off your feet faster than you can drop your knickers!”

“What’s with the brain scanners?” he interrupted before Clara could say anything. “Or did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Can’t be too trusting these days.” She reached up to straighten his jacket. He grabbed her wrists harshly to stop her. “Oh, I didn’t realize you liked it rough,” she insinuated, snapping her teeth together provocatively.

“Why did you bring us here before? What are you really after?” He squeezed her wrists tighter.

“Well now, that’s my little secret. You wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise! Besides, I know you better than anyone. You’ve never been able to resist a good mystery.” Before he could say anything more, the sound of bells chimed overhead. The guests sat down their beverages and began to gather like a herd of cattle towards the open doors on the other side of the room. She pulled herself from his grasp and joined the others before turning around towards them once more. “Coming? You wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun now, would you?”

The Doctor and Clara reluctantly followed the crowd hand in hand. He had a horrible feeling coursing through him, but he couldn’t turn back now. Not when they were so close to discovering the truth of why they were there. As they walked through the threshold, their grip on each other’s hands tightened in anticipation of what was to come. They entered like a great flood sweeping over every inch of the room. Whatever this was seemed to be incredibly popular amongst the several species they could see. The room was certainly large enough to house all of the people in attendance. A massive stage stood in front of a double hanging grand curtain as if they were about to watch a play. In the middle of the stage sat a short pillar on display. On one side of the stage was a podium. The seats were arranged in rows with no particular order or reservation. Staying mostly behind, they chose two seats in the back for better observation. He took the opportunity to look around the room for anything out of place while the guests were filling in their seats. Emergency exits on the sides, unmanned and unlocked. Another brain scanner on the ceiling. Nothing that would seem to suggest a trap, yet.

“I don’t get it,” Clara stated, breaking the silence between them. “With all these different species here from all over the galaxy, why have we never heard of this auction going on before? If it were this popular, you’d think someone would’ve mentioned it by now.”

“Yes, it would appear this is the best-kept secret in all the universe,” he agreed. He had been thinking the same thing from the moment they arrived. He watched as Missy made her way to the stage.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, lads and lasses, lords and mistresses!” she began, fluffing her hair at her own recognition. “If you will be kind enough to take your seats, we can get started.” She waited a moment for the guests to settle quietly then reached into her pocket. The Doctor observed closely as she pulled a pair of reading glasses matching the ones he had been given earlier and placed them on her face. “There now, that’s better! I’d like to begin with our very first item this evening. I believe you’ll find no other in the universe quite like it.”

From behind the curtain appeared a beautiful young woman of no more than twenty bearing long auburn hair and sparkling brown eyes who seemed familiar to the Doctor yet he could not recall having ever seen her before. She was dressed in a long-sleeved gown and wearing an identical pair of glasses. She held a brilliantly decorated layered necklace fastened to a blue velvet display in which she placed upon the pillar. The chain was made from a mix of different types of gold. The gems themselves were mostly diamonds ranging in various sizes. The lights reflecting upon the surface of the gemstones embedded into its metallic fixings sparkled in a million different places. Truly an unmistakable work of art.

“Nicknamed ‘The Eyes of the Galaxy,’” she continued, “this piece is amongst the rarest in the universe and was one of two precious items to have been smuggled out of the Halassi vaults during the great raid. The chain is composed of blue and yellow gold mined from the Flidor moon and Jupiter’s orbiting asteroid Voga. The diamonds were mined from several different planets including Arcadia and the reefs of Kataa Flo Ko. Each link was hand-dipped in the golden whirlpools of Catrigan Nova, my personal favourite...”

“Is she serious?” Clara finally spoke, trying to keep the agitation in her voice to a minimum. “Did we really come all this way for a bit of jewellery?”

The Doctor remained silent. He too was in disbelief that nothing had blown up, setting the walls ablaze and trapping everyone in the room. None of the guests were being captured or forced into some kind of slavery which would have been so fitting for someone like Missy, at least the Missy he knew. His mind was in conflict over knowing what she was capable of yet saw no one in distress. No world he had to save from her evil plans. He’d be a fool to believe she wasn’t up to something. So what was he missing? What should he be looking for that no one else could see?

His eyes searched the room for anything representing danger when he noticed something rather odd. The guests were too busy with chatter to realize the young woman who presented the necklace was pulling an object from one of her sleeves. Perfectly sphere-like in shape, it was hardly larger than her hand. But the Doctor recognized it almost immediately, suddenly realizing why he had been sent the mysterious gift. Great fear tore through him. No time to save anyone else, only enough to save her. “Clara!” he called, scrambling to get the pairs of glasses out of his pocket. “Quickly, put these on!”

“What? Why?” she asked, cautiously taking a pair from his hand.

“No questions, just do it! Do as you’re told!” he ordered her.

She hastily did as she was asked as he did the same. Before she could inquire any further into what they were for, a sudden flash of blinding white light engulfed the entire room followed by a deafening silence. They felt themselves shielding their eyes from its intense glow. After a moment, the light simply faded away. When he felt it was safe, he returned his attention towards the front of the room. It was completely quiet, not a sound to be heard. No shifting of the seats, no speaking, no one was moving in any way at all. The entire auditorium was under some sort of trance-like state. All pairs of eyes were fixed towards the orb.

Clara uncovered her face as the Doctor had and observed the guests in their stillness. “The people,” she noted as her fear began to rise inside of her. “They’re all frozen! What happened to them?”

“They’re not frozen. They’ve been put into a comatose state. By that,” he gestured towards the sphere.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Comasphere, nearly impossible to come by. It puts whoever looks into it in a trace. They have no idea anything has happened to them. No knowledge of time passing.”

Before Clara could say anything more, they heard the shrieking cries of something approaching them as if it were moaning in pain. Terrified, she took the Doctor’s hand. Suddenly from all around them appeared the ghost-like creatures from her dream. They passed through the walls and floors from every direction. “Doctor!” she nearly screamed in terror.

“I know, I see them too.” He tried to count exactly how many there were. Dozens at least.

“I saw one in my dream right before you woke me.” They watched the spectres quickly making their way over the crowd of comatose people. Each of them appeared to be searching for something as they began to scan the guests one by one. After a moment, one became fixed on a man in the audience. It lowered itself upon him and placed its ashy fingers upon his temples. The Doctor and Clara observed as the creature let out a horrible shrieking sound then entered the body of the man and disappeared inside of him. “What just happened? Where did it go? What are those things?!”

“They’re called Persuaders. Highly telepathic creatures. They can convince you to do whatever they want you to. But they can only enter a body if that person’s mind is completely open. Which is exactly what the Comasphere does. It opens your mind so you don’t even know what’s happening. The guests can’t see the creatures or even know they’re there. But we can.”

“Why weren’t we affected?”

“The glasses, they must shield the effects of the sphere.”

Before they could determine anything else, the Comasphere began to chime. The Persuaders in the room screamed and disappeared behind the walls and floors from whence they came. On the last chime, the guests began to regain consciousness, talking amongst themselves as if nothing happened. The Doctor and Clara stared in disbelief over what they just witnessed.

“Congratulations on your winnings, Baron von Kinloss of Hedron,” Missy applauded, addressing the man in which the Persuader had entered. “We give our thanks for your generous donation to our cause.” The room filled with the sound of cheers and applause for the gentleman as he nodded in appreciation. “Do be sure to collect your winnings afterwards.”

“What? I didn’t hear him bid anything, did you?” Clara asked.

“No, but whatever he offered was done telepathically by the Persuaders. Missy must share a link with them.”

“What are you saying? That the Persuaders are convincing people to make bets for them?”

“Not for them, for her.” He glared at Missy, the gears in his head turning. What is she after? Do these people have any idea what they are promising her?

“Doctor, we should go,” Clara advised, placing her hand on his. Something didn’t feel right to her, she just couldn’t place it. “Let’s just forget about this memory hunt and get out while we still can. I don’t know what Missy is up to, but I don’t want to stick around any longer to find out.”

He looked into her eyes. At any other time, he would have scoffed at her ridiculous human emotions while embracing whatever challenge may have found its way to him. But she was right. He couldn’t risk putting her and the child in danger any longer. He needed to protect them. This was something he’d have to do on his own. “Okay, we’ll go,” he agreed, taking her hand in his.

“And now we’ve come to the next exciting item this evening,” Missy shouted over the chatter. Two large men entered from the sides of the stage and removed the pillar from the centre. “Get your credits ready for this one, ladies and gents. I hope you’ll find it to be quite the addition to your private collection!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but remain seated as if frozen with curiosity. The large curtains hiding the remaining stage behind it slowly began to slide open. He found himself unable to move. The anticipation awaiting the reveal of what was to come consumed him. The curtains soon parted from each other, fully exposing its wonders concealed behind it. As he and Clara realized what they were looking at, their jaws dropped in utter shock.

It was the TARDIS.

[shioritsumi]

No but I have so many feels about Tym as a character and a person and sometimes I think about his entire story and I just get feels? Like ‘omg bby why did I do this to you’. 

SO. First of all, he’s a Scollix, and they have a sort of body chemistry and function that basically makes it so that they can’t effectively go through puberty fully without having sex at least once. (Hetero or non doesn’t matter, they just need to have sex once.) Tym is on the average size as compared to a human; little shorter, even. He has slightly pointed ears, off-color eyes, and a short little stubby tail (sort of like a hamster tail) easily hidden with the right pair of pants. And for a while, people assumed that was normal. Then his childhood friend/ parole officer Acrole showed up and people saw an 8-foot tall almost rabbit-like humanoid with a long lion-like tail and pointed ears and dark sclera and light glowing eyes and darkened skin and they finally realized.....Tym’s appearance ISN’T that of an adult Scollix. Scollix don’t look THAT identical to humans. They’re taller, tougher, stronger, their tails grow, their eye color stabilizes, they finish developing. 

Tym has this problem, personally, of knowing too much. He describes it to humans as being like knowing how hot dogs are made. He’s personally pansexual, but also kind of sex-repulsed bc he feels like he knows too much about the internal workings of bodies to actually be comfortable with ever doing it. 

IMPORTANT: Tym is NOT asexual. You don’t get to mix up his sex-repulsion with asexuality. They’re completely different things. 

ANYWAYS. Now, Tym is a smart guy. He found a species called Numoreans, sort of like amorphous mercury-like race. They’re shape-shifters and the younger ones have trouble holding a form at all so they end up as adorable giggling silver blobs. Here’s the problem: they’re also used as....fuel. Like, for space ships. Tym found a way to use Numoreans as companions, giving them methods of holding solid forms for longer and allowing them to go to new places. (When Earth found one of Tym’s ‘inventions’ in another story which will likely never see the light of day again, they called it the ‘Veil of Ether’. A name Tym thinks is cool, but inaccurate.) Tym’s intention was to basically make the Numoreans into, like, Cabbage Patch Kids. They would be like artifacts, but also, you’d just be adopting them under the condition that you take good care of them. This was his plan to get innocent Numoreans out of being used as space ship fuel. 

Enter PETER (Peoples for the Ethical Treatment of Exotic Races). They took Tym to court for turning a sentient race into objects and selling them. Tym brought up all the paperwork that specifically stating the transactions were adoptions.  PETER brought a dozen of the galaxy’s best lawyers and a lot of money. He didn’t stand a chance. All of his ‘stock’ were placed into cold storage except for the one he had on hand, disguised as his coat, and Tym was sentenced to community service on a far off planet called Earth. Tym is of the opinion Earthlings should be offended they’re considered an exotic race. Sometimes Tym just doesn’t sleep bc he keeps thinking about the poor Numoreans trapped in a warehouse in stasis storage. While other Numoreans are STILL on their home planet being mined and used for space ship fuel. He has the BEST of intentions and still!

And then there are just some humans in his new work place that are just....he doesn’t know the Earth words for them. He can’t decide how exactly to curse them out, and isn’t sure he has the lung capacity to do all the languages in one go. No, he definitely doesn’t. He’s disappointed. 

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 70)

Candela, Acropolis

“Well… it is NOT a ‘Good Morning’ today, Avalon.

“I’ll be honest with you, listeners: it was a hell of a night for me, for all of us in Candela, and not for the good reasons. For those of you who’ve been shuffled off to the evacuation centers so fast they couldn’t check the news, had slept through the whole thing, or still can’t wrap your head around what happened last night:

“We’re under attack.

“A terrorist organization calling themselves ‘The Heralds of the New World Order’ just made their public debut last night, in the middle of Candela’s Eve of the Ether festival right there in Goldleaf Park—well, what’s left of it, anyway. They crashed the end of the Couple’s Costume Contest, blew up the stage just as they were announcing the winners, before their troops on the ground swarmed in as the crowds were running.

“You could tell who they were by the freaky, highly-advanced magitech and weapons they were carrying, and their masks, all white with red markings—so might want to seriously reconsider your choices in case you’re going to a masquerade party one of these days.

“Though they mostly seemed to be interested in raising hell and fighting the PKB than shooting up innocent folks, we’ve still got thousands injured, and hundreds dead, missing, or in critical condition at the hospitals.

“The numbers are still being tallied, but I’m looking at them on a screen right now and it’s not looking good, listeners.

“Then, in a turn of events that the phrase ‘mixed blessing’ was made for, a different terrorist organization we only know as the ‘Council’ clashed with them, fighting with the very same alien magitech the Heralds were using, up until the Queensguard arrived, at which point they turned tail and ran, leaving the Royals to finish the job.

“The AFA is playing it safe for now and declaring the Council a fellow terrorist organization and threat to all of Avalon, but the fact of the matter is that a lot of people and peackeepers owe their lives to those folks in those blue masks fending off the Heralds while they ran.

“Only time will tell if this is a case of ‘allies in the shadows,’ or an ‘enemy of my enemy situation.’

“I’m sure you’re all waiting for me to tell you all about the chaos that happened in the radioactive disaster zone that was Maharlika Avenue, but unfortunately, we’re scarce on any concrete details; you’ve got the Info-Grid for all the theories, guesses, and footage your hearts desire; and we here at Good Morning Avalon are going to commit to our dedication to only delivering you the facts, and reasonable, well-argued opinions, so I’ll tell you what we all know for sure:

“The Heralds are a new, extremely dangerous terrorist organization, equipped with magitech we’ve never seen before.

“They’ve got all three branches of the Armed Forces of Avalon scrambling to figure out where they got it, how we’re going to fight them, and why they escaped our attention until it was too late. We don’t know what their goals are, exactly, but going from their leader Cinder Fall’s speech last night, our best guess is this:

“They want to watch Avalon burn, and build something new over the ashes.

“The Council is the same except opposed to the Heralds, and hopefully not fighting over who gets to pour the gas and light the match. What we are sure is of is that they are definitely connected to the whole Keeper of the Grove business with the Schnee family less than a month ago, and that things weren’t as clear cut as we once thought they were, now that Weiss Schnee turns out to be both alive and working with them.

“I’d love to discuss my own thoughts about it, but again, Truth and Reasonable Opinions over Ratings, so here’s the Public Service Announcements:

“The AFA is still putting a cap on civilian use of the Info-Grid, but you may still queue up your messages to your loved ones, which will all be sent out as soon as possible. We know you need to tell them you’re alright, but right now, the protectors in platinum need those information highways free as they make sure that we all stay alright.

“All businesses and schools, public and private, are shut down until further notice by order of the Peacekeeping Bureau. Any enterprises or institutions found violating this order will be severely sanctioned, and forcibly closed for the day—possibly permanently, so think twice about trying to make a buck off this tragedy.

“The Candela International Airport has canceled all commercial flights, to make way for emergency evacuations out of Acropolis. If you have any complaints about refunds or any other concern, please take them to the respective agencies you brought your tickets or travel packages from.

“Travel within six blocks of and especially into Goldleaf Park and Maharlika Avenue are restricted. We know you want to see what the aftermath is with your own eyes, folks, or maybe even try to find whatever it is you dropped in the chaos, but the fact is there is some serious magical radiation going on there in both of those places.

“A cool selfie at ground zero is not worth the permanent, lifetime health complications, or even death by exposure.

“The Peacekeeping Bureau is making their rounds, distributing medicine, food, and water to everyone affected by this tragedy. Please, line-up in an orderly fashion at the designated evacuation centers and distribution sites, and wait for your turn.

“We’re living in Candela, people: having an abundance of everything for everyone is kind of our thing...”

The Nexus, Heartland

A Wolf in Shepherd’s Clothing?

By Halili Hyenhyota

The very foundations of the Church of the Holy Shepherd have been rocked with the biggest scandal they have ever experienced: collusion with terrorists at the very highest level.

Holos, eyewitness accounts, and confirmed reports from the Peackeeping Bureau, the Armed Forces of Avalon, and the Church itself all show that the current Holy Shepherd, Pyrrha Nikos, is guilty of aiding and abetting the operations and escape of members of the terrorist organization known ‘the Council’ during the terror attack at Goldleaf Park, Candela.

Only making matters worse are the circumstances of her disappearance from the Nexus and subsequent appearance in Candela last night, as authorities are only just finding out the details of a masterfully executed escape plan a year in the making; and the conclusive, undeniable evidence that she and the suspects were obviously extremely close and familiar with each other, openly enjoying themselves at the Eve of the Ether fair for hours beforehand, and even entering the Candela Couples’ Costume contest—an event personally attended to by thousands, through the Info-Grid by billions over the Info-Grid, and broadcasted live on realm-wide public-access Holovision.

They had escaped suspicion and attention from the authorities by going undercover, wearing “costumes” of their true identities. It was an audacious ruse that worked all too well as they were only exposed during the attack by the Council’s rivals, the “Heralds of the New World Order.”  

Questions abound:

How long have they known each other? Was this just a brazen night out on the town, or a cover for something much more sinister? And just what exactly is going on inside the highest echelons of the Church of the Holy Shepherd, that their Head of State felt the need to escape in the night, to the company of Enemies of the Realm...?

What is for sure is that the faith of even the most devoted is shook, Church officials are scrambling to control the damage, and that the future of Avalon’s first government is in serious question once more.

Lumania, Heartland

In the lobby of the Curie Nikos College and Research Center (or as it was affectionately known as, “The Academy”), the media, scientists, and curious souls all rubbed up against each other’s shoulders in the suddenly too-tight space, the rest tuning in on their HoloVision devices of choice.

The speaker on the podium took a moment to review her words, before she began the press release, holos broadcasting on the screen beside her. “Our medical examinations and autopsies of the members of the terrorist organization ‘The Heralds of the New World Order’ are now complete, and have turned up some incredibly disturbing details...”

“It’s of little surprise to anyone that majority of them are heavily modded, with genetic and/or cybernetic enhancements, but the sheer depth and complexity of many of them boggle the minds of us here at the Academy, and worry us greatly beside.

“In simple terms, these are extremely precise and dramatic modifications to a patient’s body, helping them easily exceed the limits of the most highly advanced procedures and cybernetic implants we are currently aware of—ones we haven’t even come close to attempting to create or even consider for development from the sheer number of things that could go wrong, the highly questionable and unethical implications and necessities of creating and testing them, and the limits of our own capabilities beside.

“Of particular note are those bodies that have animal ears, tails, and other traits. At first glance, this just seems to be nothing more than the incredibly popular animal-themed cosmetic mods used by a sizable niche interest group, until further examination yielded such extreme changes to their DNA that we find ourselves hesitating to even call them ‘human.’

“In every level, from their physiology, to the sequences of their genomes, and the structures of their brains—it’s almost like they’re an entirely new species...”

Valentino, Heartland

Two peacekeepers held on tight to either side of a raving, ranting, homeless man dressed in rags, trying to wrestle him into a waiting squad boat.

He kept on shouting his message, spit flying from his mouth full of rotting teeth. “The End Times are here! The Truth has been revealed to me! The Lies of the Holy Shepherd, what lurks within the Viridian Valley, what you will find at the end of the Endless Sea!”

They grunted as they tried to push him into the brig, but the man was possessed, fighting back with more strength than his emaciated body would hint at.

“The Heralds are here, and the first trumpet has been blown! Flee from the Wolves in the Flock, their Mistress and her Hunters! Piper will not protect you—she never had!”

Slam!

The door was shut in his face. The peackeepers sighed in relief; the raving man was still pressing his face up to the glass, but now they couldn’t hear him, and sensors beside would alert them if anything was truly wrong.

They got back behind the wheel, and jetted off through Valentino's numerous canals and waterways.

Most of the residents went back to their business walking through the streets, enjoying themselves in their homes or at the numerous business, or puttering on through with their own boats, but some couldn’t help but have the message linger in the back of their heads...

Solaris, Celestion

In a secure, secret Trance server…

“What the fuck do you mean ‘We don’t know’?!” a shadowy figure with a question mark on their head screamed. “We are Jahilliyah! The entire point of our organization is that we know EVERYTHING, and more so, that our name is IRONIC, not LITERAL!”

A talking toilet stepped up, its lid flapping up and down as it spoke. “But Nobody, we are being offered extremely generous sums from our clients for exclusive access--”

“FUCK the money!” Nobody cried as they threw their hands up. “I want EVERYONE to dig up EVERYTHING they have on these fucking Heralds, then throw all that shit out on the Info-Grid for everyone to see, on the off-chance someone out there will help us see where the fucking dots are, let alone connect them!

“This isn’t about money any more, people—this is our reputation, our very existence! Who the HELL is going to trust an information broker that doesn’t know shit?!”

The various Trance avatars of humans, pop culture characters and celebrities, animals, and inanimate objects all looked at each other nervously.

“WELL?! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! GO BEFORE I SEND SOMEONE TO WHEREVER YOU ARE IRL TO KICK YOU IN YOUR PHYSICAL ASSES!”

The Jahiliyah operatives all started DC’ing or heading elsewhere on the server in a hurry.

In the boardroom of Adel Enterprises in Ciel Solaris…

High-profile members of the Black Cross all sat in a long, elegant dining table, finely dressed servers quietly pouring fine, ancient wines which were downed without a second thought, their drinkers more interested in getting drunk than savouring the rich, complex flavours.

At the head of it, Coco Adel let out a long, heavy sigh. “Well… at the very least, we now know what Roman’s been up to these past few years...” she said as she looked at two conspicuously empty seats on the side, their place cards summarily removed.

In room 314 of the Marimar Hotel in Terre Solaris…

Yukino Aguilar sat in her favourite chair, facing out the window of her favourite spot in her suite, the one that had the most perfect view of the Endless Sea and lovingly preserved streets of the original Terre Solaris, tourists and locals alike going about their business that fine evening.

Despite the incredibly heavy security presence, the android entering the room was waved on through without so much as a second glance.

They stepped up beside Yuki, a grim expression on their face.

“Andrei,” Yuki hummed.

“Yuki,” Andrei replied, bowing.

Yuki took a sip of her tea, before she slowly put her cup back on its saucer. “How bad is it...?”

“The weapons deliveries we have intercepted our stumping all of our suppliers,” Andrei replied. “No one knows how they were made, where they got the materials, or what they are made of, as they are nothing they have ever seen.

“The data the Academy is publishing also do not match any of our modifications, legal or otherwise, in development or awaiting deployment into the black market.”

“And finally...” Andrei paused, their normally stoic, expressionless face worried, if only for a moment. “… Xiaoyu and Nikolai Wu have called an indefinite truce, until further notice.”

Yuki frowned. “Begin stockpiling weapons, supplies, and soldiers—this is war.”

Zeal, Sekhmet

It was business as usual in the Grand Bazaar, nomadic traders and permanent residents trading goods, services, and information, biding their time till nightfall, acquiring what they needed to survive, and just generally making the long, hot days a pass little easier.

“Did you hear about what happened over in Candela?” asked a man buying fruit.

“Yeah, terrible stuff!” the stall owner replied. “It’s why I moved here—at least I expect loonies wielding freaky weapons to come attacking the city every once in a while!”

“Praise be to that! Now how much for this watermelon…?”