#who would you rather have in yo detective squad

[danganronpa96]

How do you think Walter and Mr. Krabs would generally act in Trials? Not how they would react to specific scenarios, just what do you think they would do? How seriously do you think they will take it? Will they take the lead or provide support? How good would they be when it comes to making new theories?

Walter & Krabs fans take notes

Krabs would be somewhere in the middle in terms of overall trial competence. He wouldn’t take much of a centre stage in anything, that is, unless he came up with a big theory. He would gather everyone’s attention with a “listen up”, and he’d either be completely off or somewhat there, but it really depends on if the particular case lines up with any of his own expertise. He’s have some of his own comic relief moments, mainly about money or free labour (“they weren’t even getting paid to do all that!”)

Walter on the other hand, I feel like he’d be on the same playing field as L and Hayasaka. However, I don’t think he’d be so cooperative with his theories, unless gathering information would benefit him. He’d be the type to help explain some harder parts to the others, however with Jesse in the mix, I feel like he’d have that hurdle of trying to focus while Jesse stands on the other side of the room making terrible theories or saying to him “in English, yo,” anytime he says something. Then, we can bet Walter’s patience would run very thin very quickly.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Freeze| Blue Bloods One Shot

Summary: After hearing the call for an officer down, Libby Reagan and her training officer Renzulli rush to the scene and knowing she was faster Libby went after the shooter. 

@prettyinpayne

masterlist coming soon

**

Central Park New York

**

“You know your brother Joe spoke very highly of you.” Sergeant Renzulli said, watching his new partner. Libby Reagan-O’Malley beamed before shaking her head, “I hope only good things. He and Danny use to talk me into stupid stuff when I was  younger.” 

“Like what?” 

“I would rather not talk about it, I will break out in hives if I do.” She laughed. 

“You have a twin brother right?” 

“Yes Jamie, he is at law school.” 

“Smart kid.’ 

“Very smart. I should have followed him out of New York.” 

“Why?”

Libby rubbed her lips together and twirled her straw around her almost empty glass.

 “I got accepted into Northwestern, which was my top school. I wanted to go so bad.’

 “Then why didn’t you?” 

“My husband stopped me from going and he got  so mad when I decided instead to get my bachelors degree in criminal justice and join the police academy.” 

“He should be proud.” 

“Keyword should be.” She said, “he wants to drive a wedge between me and my family.”  

Tony started laughing long and hard at that, her family, the Reagan family was infamous for being tight knit. 

Always checking in. 

There had even been rumors about her grandfather and father having her and her older sister Erin followed on their dates.

 Which Tony himself said he would do if he ever had a daughter. 

He watched her mouth twitch in a smile for several long minutes before speaking up, “If you are unhappy Libby, then you need to change that. You are a Reagan, you don’t need a man to be happy. And no offense Michael is an ass.

” 

That got her to laugh, “That is true. But he won’t let me leave. I have spent more time at my parents house than I have in the last 4 years. Just to get away from him.”  

“You need to leave him, if I can tell you aren’t happy, then your family definitely can.” Libby nodded her head as she went to talk, static filled the air, “10-24 officer down! We need back up!’ 

Libby’s blood ran cold as she stood up, quickly knocking her chair over.

One thing she had always feared being in a family that housed not only the commissioner but the chief of deans and two other officers that one day those calls would be involving one of them.  And hopefully this time was one of those situations that didn’t involve them.

 “10-4 show us responding.” Tony said as they rushed out of the diner and down the street to their squad car.

Libby’s heart was in her throat as she threw herself out of the car.  Her hand trembling as she grabbed ahold of her gun. 

Her partner was on her heels. 

“We need more back up. NOW!”  Renzulli shouted into his radio. 

“They came out of nowhere!” 

Riker shouted, putting his hands on the bleeding wounds that his partner had.

 “What way did they go?” 

“That way!’ She glanced over her shoulder at her partner who nodded quickly. Out of the two of them, she was the quickest.  

Having been on track and softball in high school as well as an avid runner now so she had a better chance of catching the shooter. 

She tore down the path quickly, her heavy belt banging against her hips and upper thighs. 

“I really need to become a detective so I don’t have to wear this stupid belt!” She muttered to herself, “HEY! FREEZE!” 

The prep wasn’t a man like she was expecting but a teenage girl, close to her sister-in-law Mary’s age, in fact she was friends with Mary, she just couldn’t put her finger on the name.

 Her radio had static as Tony radioed for more backup for her and a bus.

  The girl turned around and looked at her, her gun trembling as she pointed it at her. Libby raised her gun and pointed it at her.

 “I don’t want to shoot you.” 

“Do it! Shoot me!’ The girl shouted. 

She was trembling from head to toe, she obviously was frightened by what she did.

 “I am not going to shoot you. I need you to put the gun down now.’

 Running footsteps alerted her that she wasn’t alone now. 

“You okay Libs?” her older brother Joe asked, coming to a stop at her elbow, his own gun drawn. 

“Yes.’ She answered as their older brother Danny joined them. They had been surprised when Renzulli’s voice came onto the radio calling for backup. 

They wanted to be with Libby to shield her from this. They could survive if it was anyone else that answered the call but since it was their little sister they wanted to be with her.

“Look, I am going to put my gun away.” Libby said, flipping the safety back on and putting it back in the hostler and holding her hands up. 

“See, we aren’t going to hurt you. I just want to talk.” 

“Talk? Yeah right!” The girl laughed, wiping her eyes off on the back of her hand. 

‘Your name is Tessa right?” She asked, taking a step closer to her, her two older brothers following her. 

“How do you know that?” 

“I am Mary’s sister-in-law Libby.’ 

“I heard about you.” Tessa started waving the gun around, “Her mom doesn’t like you very much.” 

Libby glanced out of the corner of her eye at Danny who gave a slight nod. He didn’t want to take a shot at the girl. Girls like this were innocent. 

“I heard your brother was killed.” Libby said, 'In Attica.I am so sorry, I don’t know if I would survive without any of my brothers.’ 

“The guard killed him! He did nothing wrong!” 

“Michael told me what happened. There was a riot, your brother Randy was involved in it.’ 

“No! That's not true!” Tessa pointed her gun at Libby who held her hands up and took another nervous step forward. 

“Tessa, it is true, I am sorry.” She said, “Grief is an unspeakable thing.’ 

“What do you know? You live in an ivory tower and everything is good and wholesome.’

 “No, Tessa, that's not true at all. Last year, my son MJ, died. He was a year old and he was hit by a car. He died on the way to the hospital.” 

Danny made a noise deep in his throat, he would never forget that day, hearing Libby scream and then hold her son's crumpled body to her chest. He never wanted her to live through something like that again. 

The driver had been distracted texting and hit the youngest Reagan grandchild. The grief that Libby had been in had been heartbreaking. 

It was something that he never wanted to see again. It had just been recently that she started to come back to them and be apart of their family again. And they wanted that for as long as possible. 

Tessa watched the pretty police officer for several long minutes before squeezing the trigger. The gunshot sounded like a broom breaking loudly and as if  in slow motion  the bullet flew through the air and landed in Libby’s midsection. Joe grabbed a hold of her elbow and helped her lower down on the ground. 

“Libby?!’  

Another loud bang filled the air and Tessa crumbled to the ground face first. Riker had come up from behind her and shot her. 

“We need another ambulance over here!” He said into his radio before going over to the trio.

 “I am okay.” She gasped between breaths of pain. “I don’t think she hit anything.” Danny reached his hand out and put it on her stomach. It came back bloody. 

“Oh shit.” She muttered, “Mom is gonna be so pissed.” 

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Oh boy that post I reblogged about Todoroki and Iida understanding memes & pretending not to got me INSPIRED so here r some Izukrew groupchat/meme headcanons:

Everyone thinks the bakusquad chat is crazy and while they’re right, the izukrew chat is just as wild

They have probably planned acts of vigilanteism in here I mean what?

The chat has definitely made at least 164 different plans to kill End**v*r, just in case. They aren’t gonna actually use them they’re just a precaution & a way to vent (probably. End**v*r better watch what he does tho). Someone in the squad had a bad day? Make a plan to kill End**v*r, you’ll feel better. Todoroki doesn’t always contribute, & they always ask him before they make a new plan to make sure he’s still okay with it, but he appreciates the support & knowing that his friends love him and have his back

[Achey Breaky 🅱️ones]: Hey Todoroki, can we make a plan to kill your dad? [Elsa But Better]: ya sure go wild [Running in the 90s]: Can Uraraka float the bastard into the sun? Discuss. [You’ll Float Too]: ive never tried to make anything go that high but for todoroki definitely!! [Elsa But Better]: ...thank you” [Kermit With A Gun]: (flamingdumpster.jpg) it is He go wild Ochako

Uraraka talks in the chat the most, followed by Todoroki (if sending memes counts as talking), Midoriya, Iida, and finally Tsuyu who lurks a lot but doesn’t respond as often as the others

They have a “days since Midoriya last injured himself” counter that they update daily. The record was 15 days. The average is 3.

They change each other’s nicknames often. They have free reign as long as it’s not too mean, and chat rules say they have to keep whatever their name was changed to for at least a week. Sometimes they match names/ have a theme. Sometimes they bring their name changes over to the main chat too.

There is a designated “Iida Appreciation Day” when the chat is especially nice to and appreciative of Iida that happens in the chat every few weeks because they realize that they as a class are a Lot to deal with & even tho Iida is way more chill in the chat with his close friends than he can be in the main class chat they know he still feels responsible for them & does a lot for them. Iida does not know about Iida Appreciation Day (but when he finds out he is super touched & maybe cries a little bit)

Todoroki is king of the really weird, really abstract memes. The rest of the squad has no idea how he finds them & is kinda too afraid to ask

He also has a reaction image for everything and like,,, he just HAS them he doesn’t look them up, which the rest of the squad realizes cause he replies way too fast to have looked it up on the internet. They are in awe of his power

Besides the izukrew gc, only one person knows that Todoroki memes, and that’s Kaminari, because Todoroki likes to t-pose & do other meme things while Kaminari is looking at him & then as soon as anyone else is about to see what he’s doing he immediately stops. Kaminari is going crazy because nobody will believe him that stoic Todoroki, who has the greatest deadpan expression ever, memes. “Todoroki? Are you sure? Kaminari maybe you’re sick, he doesn’t know memes remember? We yelled ‘this b*tch empty’ in front of him yesterday and he just stared blankly at us.” “BUT MINA I SWEAR I SAW HIM DAB!” Ashido and Sero tried to catch him doing it but gave up after a while, stating that nobody is that good at hiding their meme knowledge. The rest of the izukrew knows obviously but feign confusion because 1) it’s funny and 2) Todoroki is genuinely having fun. When Todoroki eventually reveals to the rest of the class that he can meme, he apologizes for pranking a very vindicated Kaminari.

Iida likes those memes that combine several memes. He sends reaction images that are just memes without text bc he knows his friends will understand exactly what he’s talking about

He’s also king of photoshop & totally uses those skills for evil - he’s rly good at putting Lucky Luciano into pictures, making his friends break into a cold sweat as he sends a picture to the chat that is seemingly the exact same as the one the last person sent. Since they’re so competitive they have an ongoing competition to see who can find him first (Iida keeps the score. Right now Tsuyu is winning, but the ranks change often)

He, like Todoroki, pretends not to know memes, but takes it a little further & pretends not to know teen slang either so he can misuse it in front of people & laugh at his classmates cringing (Iida: Seatbelts are important. As Ashido might say, they are “totes yeet, yo!” Ashido: //crying// IIDA NO! Iida: Does that not mean that it is very important? Ashido: //crying louder// NO!!!). Some classmates attempt to “teach” him but he “just does not get it”. Again the izukrew pretends not to know because it’s funny.

Uraraka is queen of wholesome memes. She has so many “I love my friends” memes & always has cute images ready to send in case anyone is sad or stressed. Everyone in the chat would die for her no questions asked (she will use this to her advantage one day probably).

She also really likes spongebob memes and uses them often. Her favorite is the one where spongebob is wearing those pink frilly glasses

While she is queen of wholesome memes, she’s not afraid to tease anyone & often sends smug/teasing reaction images. Nobody is safe, especially if they tease her first, & if there’s a competition in the chat she goes all in. When she wins anything it’s like “[You’ll Float Too]: (dignitylaugh.gif) whats this? it seems i have won our little competition...” (But then immediately after she sends her first victory message she’s like “lmao jk good game”)

Midoriya sends links to random ass YouTube videos to the chat at 3 am. Sometimes the videos aren’t even memes they’re all might documentaries or something he thought was interesting or thought one of his friends might think was interesting or videos someone made about how they trained their quirk that he thinks might help someone but sometimes they’re completely nonsensical. It’s like a roulette wheel every time someone clicks a link Midoriya sent. Sometimes the chat makes bets about the contents of the video before anyone opens it. Most of the time they’re all wrong.

He doesn’t rlly have a favorite style of meme, but he always has a million specific variations of whatever meme is popular at the time and all past popular memes. His phone camera is like a meme record. He’s rlly good at finding vine comps with good but not rlly well known vines.

He also infodumps in the chat sometimes bc they let him & he is really grateful that his friends are actually interested in what he has to say

Tsuyu sends memes that roast the sh*t out of everyone in the chat. When one of her friends is doing smth stupid she totally calls them out in the form of memes (she’s really good at finding those tiktoks that feel like they are roasting you specifically). She’s a comedic timing genius and knows just when to send things (& because she doesn’t use the chat as much that makes it even funnier). She also is, rather predictably, fond of frog memes

She also loves making those alignment chart type memes (& the ones with like the triangles or the four quadrants) & makes them for/about her friends & classmates often. She is scarily good at reading people and hits the nail on the head 99% of the time. Sometimes she sends them to the main class chat too and the rest of the class is like ?!?!?!?!?!?!

Because she’s a big sister, she often sends reminders to the chat to take care of bthemselves (Iida does this a lot too, but sometimes she has to remind him because he’s so caught up in caring about others he forgets to care about himself. Actually everyone in this chat is guilty of that including Tsuyu smh). Since the others make sure she takes care of herself in return, she’s really grateful for her friends

Bonus hcs:

Aoyama, once he is added to the chat, become the expert at sending selfies of himself looking directly at the camera while a member of the chat is distracted in the background, not seeing him. The chat makes it a game to try and spot Aoyama before he can get a picture, but Aoyama always wins. When asked how he can escape the detection of even those who are always on edge/have been trained to notice every little movement, he just smiles and says “it’s a secret~!”

Shinsou, who eventually replaces M*n*t* in 1A bc this is my city & grape boy is gross, does a thing called “insomniac hours” where he will send a random question to the chat at like 3 am & Midoriya, who is almost always awake then (or sometimes Todoroki Tsuyu or Uraraka if they’re up, and very very occasionally Iida), will give him a super detailed answer. Sometimes during the day the chat plays a version of this where Shinsou asks an obviously nonsensical question and the rest of the chat has to come up with long, nonsensical answers & then votes on the best ones. Many inside jokes were borne from this game.

[truthbeetoldmedia]

Brooklyn Nine-Nine 6x08 “He Said, She Said” Review

The detectives of Brooklyn’s 99th precinct have solved plenty of gory murders, drug rings, B&Es, and cases of identity theft, but one area the show has steered clear of — until now — was the subject of sexual assault. And with good reason: how does a comedy find the humour in a situation that is all too distressingly real for the majority of women?

In the wake of the #MeToo movement (it’s worth mentioning that Terry Crews, who plays Terry Jeffords, has been one of the most vocal supporters of the movement since the beginning, sharing his own story of sexual assault), it seemed it would only be a matter of time before Brooklyn Nine-Nine turned its attention to the sensitive subject; and, in the same vein as episodes such as “Moo Moo” and “Game Night”, manages to make its point authentically and succinctly, while still providing laughs.

During the morning briefing, Captain Holt tells the squad about their newest case: Seth Haggerty, who has had his penis broken by a golf club. Jake’s game of guessing how such an injury could possibly occur is ruined when Holt somberly informs them that Seth was attacked by a female coworker who claims he had sexually assaulted her.

Jake is assigned to the case and Amy, who is somehow three weeks ahead in her paperwork, offers to jump on with him. As we learn later, Amy has ulterior motives for wanting to work the case, outside of getting back in the field: it hits close to home for her, as she, like many, has also suffered through workplace harassment.

First, Jake and Amy interrogate Seth, who is wearing a comedic diaper cast. Predictably, he claims that he did nothing wrong. Next, they bring in Keri, who tells her side of the story: Seth had been drinking, he got her alone and tried to take her clothes off, so she took his golf club and hit him in the “cookie monster” with it.

Right away, this episode did something I was impressed by: it would have been easy for Jake or someone else to want to take Seth at his word, to question Keri’s version of events, or to suggest that her response was the wrong one; but no one does. (In fact, the show sends Hitchcock, perhaps the one most likely to make any such comments, home for the week in the cold open, perhaps realizing that such a storyline is one Hitchcock can’t live in genuinely.)

It’s one thing to say the woman needs to be believed; it’s another to show it, and show it without saying that that’s what you’re doing.

After discussing it, Jake and Amy decide that Keri should file charges against Seth for sexual assault. But she refuses, because her company has already offered her a $2.5 million hush money payment and a promotion in exchange for her silence.

It seems like an easy decision to make: $2.5 million to pretend nothing ever happened; or open an investigation which has little chance of finding any damning evidence, relive the assault, and open yourself up to being disbelieved, ostracized, and punished for telling the truth.

Except.

Assaulters don’t deserve to walk free.

This is the crux of Me Too: it takes an inordinate amount of courage to make oneself so vulnerable in order to stop the same thing from happening again, to someone else, when there seems to be so little possibility of success.

After some encouragement from Amy, Keri decides to press charges and an investigation is officially opened, but it doesn’t get off to the most auspicious start: Jake and Amy arrive at Keri’s workplace to conduct interviews with her coworkers, hoping someone else will corroborate her story, but everyone seems intent on toeing the company line and insist that Seth is a “great guy” and the company is a “very professional place.” (This, while some employees are openly drunk.)

Not only do Jake and Amy not get the evidence they need, they find out that Keri has been fired and her settlement retracted because acts of violence won’t be tolerated. Distressed, Amy throws herself into the case, desperate to find evidence so that Keri doesn’t lose her job because of Amy’s advice.

Later, Amy comes clean to Jake about why exactly this case hits so close to home for her: at her first precinct, she was approached by her commanding officer after being promoted to detective, because he seemed to think she owed him something in return for her career. Amy never told anyone about the incident, in which her boss tried to kiss her, because she felt that maybe her promotion hadn’t been earned in the first place and that any future promotions wouldn’t be offered to her. (This particular backstory seems to be lifted right from the Harvey Weinstein scandal that started the whole Me Too movement in the first place.)

Another thing this episode did very well — as it did in the aforementioned “Game Night” episode, also — was let Jake sit back and be a comforting presence and ally rather than an active participant. As “Game Night” was Rosa’s episode, “He Said, She Said” is Amy’s. (Jake himself brings attention to the role of men in this topic while Rosa and Amy are having a back-and-forth about the merits of pursuing a sexual assault charge: should he leave the room, or should he be a part of the conversation? In the end, he decides to be an active listener and stop interjecting, which is exactly the right call.)

Because this is Brooklyn Nine-Nine and, above all, it’s a show that’s meant to make you feel good, Amy and Jake do end up with the evidence they need: one of the employees at the firm comes forward with a text chain in which Seth tells the same story Keri did. However, even with the conviction, Keri still quits her job because she knows she’s being isolated from her other coworkers and that will have ramifications of her career.

Two step forward and one step back. As the show is sure to iterate, doing the right thing isn’t always easy.

It’s not all bittersweet, though; the episode ends with Rosa revealing that another female employee from the same firm has come forward to share her story, which leads to my favourite line of the episode: “Two steps forward and one step back is still one step forward.”

If this plotline does all the heavy lifting of the episode, the B-plot works hard to add in some levity: Captain Holt learns that one of his greatest-ever collars, the Disco Strangler, has died when his transport van flipped and caught on fire. (This is a reference that goes waaaaaay back: the Disco Strangler was mentioned in the show’s pilot episode, when Terry uses the story of his capture to convince Jake that their new captain is the Real Deal.)

Although all evidence — including a charred body and the word of a badly injured van driver — points to his old nemesis actually being dead, Captain Holt refuses to believe it, thinking instead that this is the Disco Strangler’s great escape.

Is this a case of Captain Holt’s detective senses being right despite having no evidence to go on, or is he making up a case because accepting that the Disco Strangler is dead would also mean accepting that his best years are behind him?

Terry and Charles seem to think it’s the latter, and as Holt investigates and the evidence mounts against him, it seems they’re right: Holt’s main clue, a piece of string that he believes belonged to a yo-yo, turns out to be part of the sign the Strangler had to wear that declared him a fall risk, and seeing the van driver badly injured in the hospital makes it seem ridiculous to think that she could be in cahoots with the criminal.

Just as Holt is ready to admit that he’s wrong and he is no longer the young cop he used to be, he receives aerial footage from a helicopter of the Disco Strangler walking along a highway. Holt orders a team be dispatched to pick him up. The thirty-odd intervening years since Holt last caught the Disco Strangler make themselves known though, as Holt’s triumphant moment is somewhat ruined by the fact that the old Strangler is too deaf to hear what he’s saying.

Working off a reduced cast for this episode (as previously mentioned, Hitchcock is sent home in the cold open, Scully only has a minor role to play, and Stephanie Beatriz, who directed the episode, only appears as Rosa a couple of times) works in the show’s favour: the two main plots balance each other nicely, and each is given room to breathe, with especial attention given to Amy’s story in a way that doesn’t feel rushed or overbearing. As usual, the show handles delicate subject matter with deftness and finesse, and I’m grateful for it.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine airs Thursdays on NBC at 9/8c.

Sam’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝.5

[howtohero]

Protecting Yourself From Psychics

The average person has at least four or eighty-three thoughts per day. Some of these thoughts are rather mundane: “what should I eat for lunch today?”, “what should I eat for lunch tomorrow?”, “how many ants would need to band together in order to lift me and should that number make me feel bad?” While others are vastly more important: “My pin is ****”, “I am secretly the superhero Captain Thunder”, “I hope nobody finds that embarrassing video of me drunkenly singing ‘Yo Ho A Pirate’s Life For Me’ whilst jabbing a plastic sword at a city bus.” You probably have a lot of important thoughts rattling around in your head. Thoughts other people might like to take a glance at. Well, unbeknownst to you there are dozens of people around you, listening to your thoughts, and judging you for them, on a day to day basis. So how do you protect yourself from that?

The easiest way to prevent someone from listening to or reading your thoughts is to never have any thoughts ever. Do everything solely on impulse. What are you having for lunch today? The first thing that comes to your mind at lunch time. Spaghetti! Pizza! A rock! Whatever the first thing you think of is what you’re eating. You can’t risk putting any more thought into it, if you do, a hostile psychic might know about it and poison your food. Any decision you ever need to make needs to be quick and at the last possible second to prevent your enemies from catching wind of it. Nobody should ever know what you’re doing before you do it. Not even yourself.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, because you haven’t finished reading this blog post yet: “Zach didn’t you once mention a device that could prevent mind readers from reading minds? Why don’t I just get myself one of those bad boys?” Gosh you’re a real idiot aren’t you. If you had any brains at all you would know that the device you’re talking about came up in our post about animal sidekicks and those mind-reading-deflector helmets were for animals. Humans have more complex brains than animals. These things aren’t going to work for you. So how about you never throw my past writing in my face ever again. You don’t know anything. You utter dingus.

ANYHOO if you want to be able to think freely the best way to stop people from peering into your innermost thoughts is to wear metal on your head. That’s right, all you robots, mech pilots, and armored heroes are totally safe and you guys can skip this post! Mind control beams (or whatever?) can’t get through metal, everyone knows that. It’s like how I can’t get through the doors at La Mardi because they have a very strict “no Zach Schechters” policy because one Zach Schechter once went in there and set off a bunch of confetti poppers in the middle of the dance floor and ruined it for the other Zach Schechters. When you’ve encased your head in a metal block, psychics can’t get past the bouncer.

But, a metal cap isn’t for everyone. Some superheroes are allergic to metal. It might clash with the rest of your costume. It might be too heavy for your head. So let’s take a look at some other options.

Some superheroes have been known to be so careful about guarding their secrets from mind readers that they actually use hypnosis or other forms of brain washing to repress or lock away their secrets so that they can’t think about them even if they wanted to. Since most superheroes’ biggest secret is that they’re living a superpowered double life, this sometimes results in them developing a split personality. One of their identities is mild mannered Whomever Jones while their other identity is superhero Power Jones. Due the hypnosis, the two identities will be completely unaware of each other so it would be impossible for either of them to have their minds read and for their secret identity to be revealed. (Note: I only used Power Jones here as an example. The man has one million powers, I’m sure one of them is mind reading immunity.) This might seem a tad extreme but hey, if you keep repressing your memories and secrets and splitting off parts of your personality, eventually one of your multiple personalities will be the kind of guy who makes better decisions! So that’s something to look forward to.

Another method you can try is to, every so often, think “hey mind readers! I know you’re there. Get out!” This serves two purposes, for one, you’ll definitely freak out any mind readers who happen to be nearby, causing them to both fear and respect you and your mind reading detection prowess. And secondly, such a declaration actually makes it illegal for any mind reader to continue to read your mind. (I feel like it’s always illegal for people to read your mind.) Well your feelings are both wrong and invalid!

If you’re bi- or multilingual, try thinking in a language that you don’t think anyone else in the room understands. Or think in abstract thoughts that only somebody with your experiences and context would be able to decipher. Sometimes preventing someone from understanding what they’re reading is just as valuable as preventing someone from reading your mind 

You can also try thinking entirely in lies. If you think a bunch of fake secrets then any psychics or telepaths or Professor Brain-Scrambler <*cough* hack *cough*> will be acting on faulty information. You can even use this method to set up ambushes to take evil mind readers off the board. Simply think up a fake location for your hideout and then lie in wait with your squad for some evil mind reader’s evil henchmen to attack the place. You’ll be able to round up a bunch of evil mind readers this way, making your city a safer place to think freely. 

You can actually use your mind to fight off evil mind readers in a number of ways. Here are some aggressive tactics you can use when you think mind readers are milling about:

Think of the most annoying song you know. In no time at all the annoying jingle that’s stuck in your head, will be stuck in their head and they’ll think twice before probing your mind again.

Whenever you enter a room that you’re reasonably sure has mind readers in it think up some absolutely devastating insults about every single person in the room. With any luck your mind reader will be so devastated that they’ll run off crying before they can get any useful information out of you.

Conjure up some really gross images. They’ll be so caught off guard by the disturbing pictures you’re projecting with your mind that they’ll start gagging and you’ll be able to apprehend them quickly and put a metal hat on their head to prevent them from reading any more minds.

Hijack their signal and read their mind. This is a little tricky but a neural passageway goes both ways and if you’re a skilled enough active thinker you can identify the intrusion into your mind and ride it back into the mind reader’s brain and read their thoughts. With any luck they’ll feel so violated by the experience that they swear off reading minds forever and you’ll have saved the day just by being your nosy, intrusive self!

Nobody wants their mind read. Well except for people who sometimes have a hard time articulating their thoughts. They might like having someone who can read their mind and explain to others what they’re thinking. Mind control definitely has its time and place. I guess that’s why the Psychic Fish is (somehow) so popular. But if you don’t expect to have your mind read it can be an intensely uncomfortable experience. Your mind is your haven, you should feel safe thinking your weird thoughts and housing your secrets there. So get educated, and protect yourself against mind readers. 

[theslayersblog]

Slayers novel 1 chapter 2

Caught Between a Rock and a Red Priest

I awoke in what, judging by the colorful smashed glass and statuary, must have been an abandoned church. It was filthy, and it smelled bad. Hanging by bound hands from a ceiling hook in an unfamiliar (and stinky) environment, with a throbbing headache and my enemy staring me down? Not my favorite way to greet the day. It beat not waking up at all, I guess, but just barely.

Of course, the headache wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was somewhere in the vicinity of my wounded pride—that stung horribly.

Zelgadiss stood with his arms folded, sizing me up for something awful, I was certain. Zolf, the mummy man, was there too—along with poor, pathetic Dilgear the dork-wolf and a guy I hadn’t seen before… who was a fish. No, seriously, he was a fish.

You know those things that live in the water? A fish. Fish plus guy equals fishguy. And fishguy made Dilgear look downright handsome by comparison.

Ever run into fish people before? No? Okay, there are essentially two families: Lagon and Gillman. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what distinguishes one family from the other, but I do know that most of the fish people you run into are humanoid with scales, and a fair number of them have fins. They’re also a foul-tempered bunch. But I suppose I’d be nasty, too, if I smelled like a fish. (Oh hey, I think I just figured out where that stink in the church was coming from.)

Now, this particular fishguy was more fish than guy. His body was thin and long. He had two huge fish eyes on either side of his head, which really was not so much a head as an extension of his body, since he hadn’t gone to the trouble of growing a neck. He looked like a flounder with arms and legs. How would you like to wake up to that? At least I didn’t see the old guy around anywhere.

“Not so quick with a quip, now are you?” asked Zelgadiss. It was a rhetorical question.

I hate you, you horrible bastard. Does that count as a quip?

“You should thank Zolf. He’s the one who spared your life. Or, rather, he was the one who most desperately wanted to kill you but fought valiantly to contain his passions.”

“Thanks, Zolf. I owe you one.” I would’ve winked but my face hurt. I managed a smile. Kind of.

“Watch your mouth, you little—!” That was Zolf.

“Little what? C’mon Zolf, take your best shot.”

“Too bad about your boyfriend running off and abandoning you,” said Dilgear, obviously trying to help his buddy out.

“Yeah… too bad,” I replied. My boyfriend?

Zelgadiss sighed and said, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d trust your companion with the object. As it turns out, it’s good for you that you did. We’ll have to keep you alive as bait.”

“Uh, we’ll have to what?” Dilgear blubbered.

“This girl does not have the object.”

“What?” Everyone gasped all at once—everyone, that is, except Zelgadiss and me.

“How can you tell?”

Zelgadiss turned and looked at Dilgear like he was an idiot. Because, well… he was an idiot. “Do you see the statue anywhere, Dilgear?”

Now, don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like I was hanging there naked: I was wearing what I normally wear, minus the sword and mantle. I couldn’t hide a statue without looking like I had at least a sandwich under there.

Dilgear walked around me, looking over my body. Ew.

“Huh. Maybe she swallowed it?” He smiled an idiotic smile. Because, well… he was idiotic.

“I was unable to detect the Orihalcon on him during battle. How did you manage to shield that?” Zelgadiss queried.

“I stuck a protection spell on it.”

“Protection spell?”

“It cancels out search spells. The statue can’t be detected, even from the astral plane.”

“Kudos. Well done.” Zelgadiss sounded impressed.

“Thanks.”

What did he expect? Jeez. These people have no faith in me.

“You didn’t use anything that impressive during our battle.”

“I was holding back.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You’re not a fool. Do you expect me to… ?” Then he figured it out. “Oh, I see. That time of the month, then?”

“Piss off!” I reddened. Am I wearing a sign that says, “I’m on my period. Please let’s discuss”?

“Well, in any case, we’ll need to keep you alive until your companion turns up,” he said. “Zolf, do what you like with her, but don’t kill her.”

Do what you like with her?

Zolf smiled. My stomach turned.

Oh this is just great…

“Sweetheart,” Zolf cooed in a voice that gave my goose bumps goose bumps. “I believe we have established that you owe me your life, and I intend to be repaid. Now, where shall we begin, hmmm… ?” He eyed me up and down.

Oh, good. He’s a psychopath. What exactly did I do to deserve an invitation to this party… ?

“Mr. Zolf… sir?”

“Yes?” he purred, pleased with my newfound respect.

I looked at him rather meekly and whispered, “I just… I just want to—”

“If you want to beg for forgiveness, save it.”

“It’s not that,” I said, lowering my voice even more. “I just want to say that I think you’re…”

“What? Speak up!”

“I’m embarrassed,” I whispered. “I’m young and not very experienced with men. I just want to say that I think you’re… “

“What? You think I’m what? Handsome?” he leaned in closer to hear me.

“Third-rate.“ I said, in a voice as clear as church bells. Gotcha. Sucker.

The room exploded with laughter. Everyone except Zolf was howling. Zelgadiss tried to hide his mirth by shielding his mouth with his fist, but his quivering shoulders gave him away. What can I say? I’m a funny girl.

I wasn’t laughing at my own joke in part because, well, that’s just tacky. But also because—zinger or no zinger—I was tied up, and Zolf still had the upper hand. I expected him to explode, but he just glared, which was worse.

Well, that’s terrifying.

There was a long uncomfortable pause after the laughter died down. Finally, Zolf smiled. “Dilgear…” he called to the wolf/troll/ man/ thug.

“Yeah, Zolf?” Dilgear answered.

“Kiss her.”

“WHAAAAA ?!”

Everyone turned to see where the scream came from. It came from Dilgear. The wolf… thing was apparently more grossed out at the prospect of sucking face than I was.

Now that’s not exactly the kind of ego boost a girl needs.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” He sounded like he might puke.

“What? Do I ever kid? I’m serious,” Zolf answered, annoyed.

“But… she’s human! And she’s plain! And she’s a kid, Zolf. She’s not… developed, you know what I’m saying? I mean, I like women-women, you know? Like, maybe a hot little cyclops, or… oh! do you remember that goblin chick we met that one time? Remember her? Now, that was a woman. I mean she had a set, right? Not like—”

Oh, just kill me.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss spoke. “Dilgear would prefer not to assist you with this particular task.”

A human male would’ve had the same reaction if asked to kiss a wolf chick, right? I mean, unless he were weird and into body hair or whatever. I mean, it’s not me being rejected here, it’s my genus. It’s not my fault he’s not attracted to women outside his species. Wait, goblins are outside his species…

“Hmph, Nunsa then!” Zolf was pointing at the fishguy. “You kiss her!”

“Me?” he asked. It’s a very weird thing to see a fish talk.

“Kiss her!”

“You wish for me to engage the human girl romantically?”

                        “Yes, kiss her! What else would you—never mind, I don’t want to know. Just kiss her!”

The fish fellow’s lack of enthusiasm was frustrating Zolf as much as it was hurting my feelings.

“Very well.”

“Wait—no!” This time I was doing the screaming. I would rather have gnawed my arm off at the shoulder than shake the fishguy’s hand. Kiss him? It was too horrible to contemplate.

“Yes! Do it! Lay one on her. Lock those fish lips on her like she’s bait, my good man!” Zolf was a one-man cheerleading squad.

Nunsa’s webbed feet made wet, slurping noises as he approached.

“No! Stay away from me! Stop it!”

“You are a very lucky human girl,” Nunsa assured me. “I am the most popular potential mate in my school. The smartest, the handsomest…” His fish whiskers wiggled.

“Oh, my god! Seriously? Where do you go to school?”

“Cry! Whimper! Beg me for mercy! Suffer as I have suffered!” Zolf certainly was enjoying himself.

Oh god…

Nunsa moved in close, “Now then…” His voice took on a peculiar tone. I was too horrified to reply. “Let us begin.”

No one understood exactly what Nunsa meant. Or, considering the nauseating possibilities, particularly wanted to.

“Is there a problem?” the fish man questioned the delay

“Um…” Dilgear wondered aloud, “Nunsa, what do you mean?”

Fishguy turned one eye and looked at the wolf.

“I am waiting for the eggs,” he said, as though that would make sense to anyone.

“I believe,” Zelgadiss theorized, “something about the word ‘kiss’ may have gotten lost in translation.”

I’d come to the same conclusion as Zelgadiss, which just added insult to injury.

Zolf looked completely lost.

“Nunsa, how do your people mate?” Zelgadiss inquired.

“Females lay eggs. Males fertilize the eggs. Then, some fifteen days later, there are babies.”

Figures. Their females don’t want to touch them either.

“Oh.” Zolf seemed disappointed. “You couldn’t have said something before?”

“Said something about what?” asked a bewildered Nunsa.

“Oh, never mind, ‘‘ Zolf said in an attempt to drop the subject.

“Zolf, I have an idea,” declared Dilgear.

Oh, this’ll be good.

“Get Rodimus. He’s a human, like her.”

“First of all, that’s not going to be as punishingly awful, now is it? Secondly, Rodimus thinks he’s a knight. He won’t mistreat a girl merely at my request. You know, chivalry and all that rot,” said Zelgadiss in opposition to Dilgear’s suggestion.

This Rodimus has to be the old guy.

“The girl is responsible for my condition. I will have vengeance,” whined Zolf.

“Maybe it’s time to let it go, Zolf?” prodded Zelgadiss.

“No, not yet.” His gaze drifted to Zelgadiss.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss put an end to the discussion. “I have no interest in making little girls cry.”

“I know, but…” Zolf was nearly in tears. I actually started to feel bad for him.

Hey, don’t cry! It’s going to be all right. You’ll heal up! And how many times do I have to keep telling you people, I’m not a little kid!

“I have no choice…” It looked as if Zolf finally got the hint.

“… I’ll have to handle this myself,” Zolf concluded. I guess he didn’t get the hint.

“Now, then…” Zolf reached into his pocket and brought forth a giant handkerchief.

“W-what’s that for?” I freaked.

Zolf walked around behind me, where I couldn’t see.

“It’s for little girls who don’t know when to shut up!” he said, as he reached around and stuffed the handkerchief into my mouth.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed, walking around to face me again. “Don’t have much to say now, do you?”

“Well then,” Zolf stretched his mouth into an unpleasant smile and began, “You are a runt.“

Mmrmfph!”

“And a cow.“

“Mmmrugmf!”“

“You are a flat-chested runt cow… who is narcissistic.” He was having fun now, enunciating every epithet as though it tasted sweet on his tongue. “You are a shrew. Your eyes are too big for your face and it makes you look funny.” He went on, and on.

How dare he! If I didn’t have a tablecloth shoved in my mouth, I’d bury him! What’s not to insult? For starters, he’s a big old freak who can’t let go of a grudge. Besides the mummy business (and god only knows what’s under those bandages!)—he’s got teeny-tiny feet and he’s all bowlegged! Where does he get off insulting my proportions?!

“I believe you’ve just about covered it,” Zelgadiss said, sounding bored. “How much longer do you insist on prolonging this childish nonsense?”

“Until I feel revenged.” Zolf’s face reddened.

“Mmrpf! Mmmrumpfer! Mfumpfuu, muumrufferffuffer!” I couldn’t take it any longer. I was trying to tell him that I was going to kill him as soon as I had the chance, but all I managed to get out against the gag was, “Mmrpf!”

“How does it feel, being helpless?! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

One day, I will feed you those words.

Eventually, Zolf wore himself out, and he and the others went to find food and make arrangements for the night. The sun made its way across the sky until all that was left was a single ray of light colored bright orange by the remaining bits of window it passed through. Then that light faded, cloaking me in darkness, save for the faintest glimmers of starlight. My wrists hurt, my jaw hurt, and I was very, very tired. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep.

I awoke with a start, to the sound of someone entering the room.

“Be quiet…” Zelgadiss whispered.

Why would Zelgadiss be sneaking around in here? Isn’t he in charge… ? I still had a gag in my mouth so I pretty much had to be quiet. I waited, not understanding.

A white light flashed above me and I fell to the floor. Ouch.

“Your sword and mantle.”

“Eh?” Zelgadiss pulled the cloth from my mouth. No mistake—those were my things. “Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Do you wish to escape, or not?”

I nodded silently and took my gear.

“Follow me.”

I followed behind Zelgadiss, as quietly as possible. It occurred to me that this might be a trap, but even a trap was better than being suspended from that ceiling another night at the mercy of Zolf.

Outside, patches of moonlight illuminated a thick, dark forest beside the dilapidated structure. A stone path led from the church into the woods.

“Hurry!” Zelgadiss said.

“Wait…” I hesitated.

This was a little too convenient. I’ve always been a firm believer in the adage, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

“The situation’s changed,” he shot back urgently. “We have to go now!”

“All right.” I made the decision to trust him for the time being. We ran along the path into the forest. Then… we stopped.

Something crimson emerged from the darkness to block the forest path. From behind, I heard Zelgadiss mutter under his breath, “Rezo.”

The Red Priest stood before us.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Zelgadiss?” Rezo asked. “You’ve followed orders admirably up until now… but this? This is an act of treason.”

“Then I am a traitor!” Zelgadiss yelled. His voice was desperate. He was clearly afraid.

“I cannot do this any more!”

“Oh, is that so?” Rezo asked quietly. “I’m very sorry to hear That.” He seemed an entirely different person than he was at our first meeting. And I couldn’t read his thoughts at all.

“You’re turning against me, then? Have you forgotten that I made you? I blessed you with your power…”

He wha—huh?

“Blessed me?” Zelgadiss broke in. “I will admit, Lord Rezo, that I wanted power. But I never asked to become a chimera! I never wanted… this“

“One has to be willing to make sacrifices, pet. And I gave you what you asked for, in the most direct way possible. If you had something else in mind, you ought to have specified. In any case, I won’t tolerate impudence. This ends here.”

Zelgadiss grunted. He moved suddenly, circling behind me and grabbing hold.

“Hey! W-what the—?” We began to move forward like that.

Rezo grinned, amused. “Do you intend to use that girl as a shield? Fool, do you presume I have guilt about going through her to get to you?”

“No, I don’t!” Zelgadiss’ voice was quivering now. He compensated for the fear it betrayed by raising the volume. Right in my ear.

“Using the girl as a shield won’t help me much, which is why I’m not making her my shield.…”

He raised my body high in the air. Oh, no—he wouldn’t!

“Yaaaah!”

“… I’m making her my arrow!“

He did!

Zelgadiss launched my body toward Rezo the same way you’d hurl a ball in shot put! Even as I sped through the air toward certain injury, I had to hand it to him: It was an impressive strategy.

Rezo was surprised, of course, but he managed to sidestep the assault, which left me fast approaching lip-lock with a tree. It looked like I was going to get a kiss after all.

I flailed my limbs in midair in a vain attempt to alter my direction, or slow myself down… or something. It didn’t do much.

I hit the tree with an audible splat, my limbs flailing around, grabbing the tree like a cornered money.

Ow. My nose!

“Mom always said I’d wind up a worthless tree-hugger.” Even dizzy with pain, I could try to be a good one.

“We don’t have time for jokes!” Zelgadiss caught up and managed to get me down from the tree. With a flying sorceress as a distraction, he’d been able to blast past Rezo unharmed.

Just then, several fireballs detonated behind us. “Those should buy us enough time to lose him.”

“Gently!” I shrieked, as Zelgadiss heaved me over his shoulder and sprinted.

“Complain later!” he shot back, scattering still more fireballs and taking us straight into the darkness.

* * *

“I think we’ve lost him,” Zelgadiss sighed, letting himself breathe at last. We’d been running for most of the night and had finally come to rest near a waterfall inside the forest. The roar of the falls camouflaged our voices, allowing us to speak without worrying about being heard. I had to hand it to Zelgadiss—the guy had formidable energy reserves. He’d spent the bulk of the last several hours running while carrying me. All I’d done was feel my wrists ache and my nose throb.

Shortly, the sun would threaten to make its way over the horizon.

“My nose hurts,” I whined.

“Well then, quit picking at it,” he said.

“Not funny.” I stuck my tongue out at him and leaned back against the river rocks. The cool stones felt good. As fighters go, my size gives me better-than-average speed and explosiveness, but that’s offset by my lack of strength and endurance. I needed some sleep… badly. But morning was coming soon, and there wasn’t any time.

“Go ahead,” Zelgadiss said, watching my eyes droop. “We’re safe here, and we could both use a little rest. I’ll close my eyes, too.” Perfect!

“You’d be ill-advised to take off on your own while I’m asleep.”

Crap. Busted.

“You’re right. I’m tired, and my magic hasn’t fully recovered yet,” I reasoned aloud.

“So, that means it should recover soon?” he responded hopefully.

“It should. Look, I’ll give you my word I’m not going to take off without you while you’re asleep, okay? In exchange, before we nod off, you’re going to answer a few questions for me.”

Zelgadiss flashed a strained smile. “I suppose that’s fair. You’re deeply involved in this mess now; you have a right to know. Very well, where would you like me to begin?”

“Let’s start with the guy who calls himself Rezo the Red Priest—”

“Ah, so he’d already made contact with you?”

“Yeah, and I had a weird feeling about him. Who is he really?”

Zelgadiss shrugged. “He is the man he claims to be. He is the authentic Rezo the Red Priest. However, he’s not the man the world knows him to be. Perhaps, a long time ago, he was…”

“I don’t understand. How could he be the total opposite of what the whole world thinks?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people believe what they want to believe. Do you understand the significance of the object he seeks?”

“Time out. Just so we’re clear here: He’s the one who wants to revive Shabranigdu the Dark Lord, and not you, right?”

Zelgadiss obviously didn’t understand my question. “Shabranigdu? What are you talking about?”

“Um… well, he said—”

“The object he desires is known by a great many names, but the most famous is the ‘Philosopher’s Stone.’”

Eeep! I was speechless.

“Th-the Philosopher’s Stone… ? Then… he, he could …”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“The Philosopher’s Stone is contained within the goddess statue that you briefly possessed.”

The Philosopher’s Stone… heard of it? You probably have. There’s not a single practitioner of sorcery who does not know of it and wonder at its legendary power. It is said to be a relic of advanced sorcery from a lost civilization, or,

alternatively a fragment of the Divine Staff that supports the world. The only thing known for certain about it is that it amplifies magic. Like, a gazillion-fold. Each rumored appearance of the Philosopher’s Stone has profoundly affected the course of human history. It’s believed that even an apprentice sorcerer in possession of the stone could wipe out an entire kingdom. Though it is a near myth, elder sorcerers insist that it’s real.

And, I’d actually held it in my hands!

“B-but, what does he want to do with it?” Even if the legends of Rezo’s goodness were exaggerated, the extent of his powers wasn’t. On his own, they were astounding, but with the stone… he claims he has no plans to conquer the world,” Zelgadiss replied. “He says he simply wants to see it.”

“He wants to see it… ?”

“Yes. As the stories say, Rezo was born blind. He began to learn White Magic for the sole purpose of opening his own eyes.

“Once he mastered White Magic, he traveled the world, visiting other sages, helping many people along he way. But, while he could heal the eyes of others, for some reason he was unable to heal his own. He began to wonder why his efforts were inadequate. So he studied Black Magic and then Shamanic Magic, hoping that they would provide him with sufficient power. He was talented and driven and he mastered these mystic traditions well. And still, his eyes would not open. Only one means remained.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone, which he probably wasn’t even sure existed.”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“Then… I don’t understand. Why stop him from getting the stone? What’s the harm in him acquiring vision?’’

“There may not be any. But my objective is vengeance. For that, I require the Philospher’s Stone. I am nowhere near powerful enough to defeat him on my own.”

“Rezo’s that powerful?”

He nodded silently. So, this was all about Zelgadiss refusing to be a pawn. Of course, I’d feel the same way.

“So, he… he is the one who did this to you?” I said, referring to his rocky skin.

“Yes. On that day, he told me he was granting me power so that I could assist him in his quest for the stone. And I… foolishly, accepted. I did not understand what he intended to do.”

“How did you know him?”

Zelgadiss’ mood changed as I posed the question. He broke out in self-derisive laughter. “I’ve known him since I was born. He is, it would seem, either my grandfather or my great-grandfather. I’m not sure which, and I don’t really want to find out.”

“For real?”

“I suppose he doesn’t look his age, but he was born over a century ago. In any case, the blood of the famous (or infamous, depending upon your perspective) Rezo the Red Priest does flow through my veins.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry I asked.”

Well, this is awkward. I gingerly rubbed my nose with a fingertip.

“It’s all right,” he said, not laughing anymore.

The weight of our conversation hung unbearably heavy in the air. How do you change the subject after something like that? So, how about this weather, huh?

“All right, well, I get the gist of it now, and I appreciate you filling me in,” I said, trying to sound chipper. “Let’s try to get some sleep,” I added, lying down on my side.

Ah, that’s the good stuff…

I looked over at Zelgadiss, who still stood upright. “Aren’t you going to sleep? You’re tired too, right?”

“I suppose, but I’ll stand watch for now,” he said. “I’ll wake you up after a while, and we’ll trade places.”

“That’s fine. Good night.” I closed my eyes. As tired as I was, it didn’t take long before…

* * *

I awoke, as I always seem to awaken—with a jolt.

I was certain I hadn’t slept for more than a few hours. I could tell from the position of the sun, and the extent to which my body had recovered.

The thirst for battle poisoned the air and penetrated my sleep. It wasn’t coming from one or two people. I figured it to be emanating from as many as ten, maybe more. Normally, I could be more precise about the number, but I was tired and groggy, and my magic was still on the fritz. Whatever the specifics, the enemy outnumbered us.

“We’ve been surrounded,” Zelgadiss said quickly. He didn’t bother lowering his voice. They already knew where we were, so what was the point?

“By whom?”

“Twenty or thirty trolls. Rezo’s not with them. We’ll manage.” He sounded unconcerned. I, on the other hand, was somewhat less than confident.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice you was gone, did you? We gotta settle this, boss.”

Recognizing the voice, I rose to my feet, spotting trolls attempting to conceal themselves in trees.

“Well hello, Dilgear! Fancy meeting you all the way out here,” I shouted to the trees. “Why don’t you come out of there? Show yourself and greet me properly We’ll reminisce about old times. It’ll be peachy.”

The wolf-thing dropped from a tree much closer than I’d expected.

“You remembered my name,” he said, sounding sincerely flattered. That was weird.

“Like I could forget you!” I answered, staring him straight in the snout. “Aren’t you the one who found me so repulsive that you’d rather make out with a goat? Or was it a goblin? That’s right. You probably eat goats. Goats are for eating, goblins are for swapping spit. There was something about a cyclops, too, wasn’t there? Well, I can certainly understand

why you’d favor a gal who couldn’t see too well, you know what I’m saying? Then again, what do I know? Apparently, I wish I were as hot as a cyclops. My skin’s rougher than a rock golem’s; I’m smaller than a pixie; really, I’m just an underdeveloped little—”

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t go that far.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because Zelgadiss is gonna kick your butt for insulting me, you’ll see! Go, Zelgadiss! The world is waiting for you! Show ‘em what you’ve got! Get ‘em!”

“Go on, now, we’re waiting!”

“Sic ‘em!”

“What… do you think you’re doing?” Zelgadiss was staring at me, arms crossed, a quizzical look on his face.

“Me?” I looked back at him, just as perplexed. It wasn’t as if I were going off on Dilgear just for fun—no, it wasn’t!—it was strategic! I was attacking the enemy’s morale.

Seriously!

“Dilgear, did you not swear an oath of loyalty to me?” Zelgadiss’ voice took on a surpassingly menacing tone.

The wolf-thing balked. “I didn’t swear loyalty to Zelgadiss,” he replied. “I swore to the berserker that Rezo the Red Priest created. I checked! The moment you betrayed Lord Rezo, you became my enemy, and I was relieved of any obligation to you!” Apparently, it’s in the manual.

“Oh, really?” Zelgadiss’ eyes narrowed. He certainly looked like a berserker.

“Do you really think you can take me? You measly dimwitted, half-breed, pathetic excuse for a wolf—” Wow. Remind me to stay on Zelgadiss’ good side from now on.

“Half-breed, is it? Has it come to that? All right, if that’s the way you want to play it, boss, I’ll show you what a stupid half-breed like me can do… Get ‘emmmmm!” Dilgear bellowed, and a phalanx of armed trolls charged straight at us.

Oh, holy crap.

A subtle smile appeared on Zelgadiss’ lips as he raised his right hand. I couldn’t see what he was gripping, but I could feel the earth starting to move.

“Dug Haut!” he shouted.

“Wah!” I rushed to his side and held on tight. The earth pulsed. It began to quiver and quake, and undulate like the surface of the ocean during a storm.

The trolls began to panic.

“Haaa!” Zelgadiss shook his right hand violently, a maniacal grin spread across his face. “Earth! Obey my will!”

Rocks and soil heeded Zelgadiss’ command. The undulating ground transformed into countless stalagmites, bursting through the surface and impaling the trolls wherever they stood.

Game over.

As great as their regenerative abilities were, their troll bodies failed to heal around the spikes, while the effort was wearing out their life forces fast. Their powers fading; they would surely die soon.

Not a good way to go, if you ask me. Then again, considering my stunt with the reversed recovery spell back at the inn, I wasn’t in any position to judge.

“Now then,” Zelgadiss retained his smile as he spoke. “You were saying… ? Something about how you’d show me what you could do… ? What can you do, Dilgear? Play board games… ? Defeat me at the game, Go?“

“Hmph,” Dilgear grumped from atop one of the stone spikes. He had managed to avoid impalement, but was clinging on for dear life. “I’m not impressed, you know. Real warriors don’t have to rely on stupid magic tricks.”

“Stupid magic tricks?” Zelgadiss was incredulous. “That was no trick, Dilgear. I moved the earth for you. What is it that you’re suggesting? That you could defeat me by the blade?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Dilgear grinned.

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Zelgadiss drew his sword smoothly.

“You won’t cheat and ambush me with magic?” Dilgear had not drawn his own sword yet.

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Dilgear promised, after hitting the ground and then rising to his feet. As he got back on

his feet, he drew the sword off his back. Its blade was huge and curved, and it gave off a fiendish light.

It was some sort of super-sized scimitar, the equal of which Td never seen. I retreated a little, agape at the sheer size of the thing.

“Arrrrrhh!” Dilgear let out an animalistic roar as he charged.

Zelgadiss leapt. He met the werewolf head-on. Their blades crossed, sparks flying. Though the smaller of the two, Zelgadiss began to force the wolf-thing back, bit-by-bit.

“What’s the matter, Dilgear? We’re sword-to-sword now. Like real warriors. Shouldn’t you be defeating me handily?”

“We’re just getting started here, boss!” Dilgear growled, changing the scimitar’s angle slightly, which forced Zelgadiss’ wrist and broadsword in the other direction.

The broadsword’s blade slid a short way before the scimitar Hashed out and caught Zelgadiss’ robe, cutting it open and revealing his chest.

“Not bad,” Zelgadiss complimented Dilgear.

“Thanks, boss. I’m going to hate to have to kill you, you know.”

“Thank you, Dilgear. I am going to hate to have to kill you, too.”

As near as I could tell, the two were equally matched as swordsmen. However, being as good as Zelgadiss wasn’t going to be good enough for Dilgear. After all, if it came down to his life being on the line, Zelgadiss could still use magic.

As to my personal opinion? I didn’t really care who won. Either way, I was going to be somebody’s hostage—Rezo’s or Zelgadiss’. And as far as either of them was concerned, I was merely a means to obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone, nothing else. That’s hardly an attitude to engender loyalty in a gal.

As the two circled each another, I considered taking the opportunity to run but quickly dismissed that idea, figuring that if Zelgadiss noticed, he’d send a flurry of fireballs in my direction as a parting gift.

“Hii-yaa!” Dilgear leapt into the air sideways, toward the pillars of earth, slicing through them with the full force of his giant scimitar.

Magic doesn’t last forever, and neither do things created by magic. Things created by magic lose stability the longer they’re around. Collapsing at the force of the scimitar’s blow, the pillars avalanched in Zelgadiss’ direction. The force of that fall started a chain reaction.

“Wah!” I gasped as I hustled to get out of the way of the second and third rapidly collapsing pillars.

Dilgear moved from column to column, helping them along. Zelgadiss’ relatively small form was quickly swallowed up in the dust storm.

Dilgear charged in after him.

Me, I sneezed. Not only was it hard to see, but it was pretty hard to breathe.

“Ugh…” I held my breath and used a handkerchief to filter the dust away from my nose and mouth. My eyes stung, and my throat itched.

At last the cloud began to settle, and both combatants reappeared.

Dilgear’s plan to blind his opponent may have looked impressive, even spectacular, but it hadn’t been properly thought out, which made sense given the wolf-thing was an idiot.

“What a spectacularly stupid stunt,” Zelgadiss said, feigning amazement. “Just when I was starting to respect you, Dilgear.”

“I take back what I said earlier, boss. I cant wait to shut that smart mouth of yours.” Dilgear screamed, renewing his charge.

I thought I saw Zelgadiss smile therefor a minute.

The two ran at each other with tremendous force. Zelgadiss’ blade caught Dilgear’s shoulder.

Suddenly, I understood the smile: Before, when it looked like Zelgadiss was merely evading Dilgear’s blows, he’d kicked a number of rocks in Dilgear’s direction while his

lower body was concealed by the dust cloud. Of course, that wasn’t enough to bring down Dilgear, but it was more than enough to knock him off balance. And knocking him off balance was all that Zelgadiss wanted.

“What’s wrong? Wasn’t I supposed to regret this?” Zelgadiss’ voice dripped with sarcasm as blood dripped from the werewolf’s shoulder.

“Who says you won’t still?” Dilgear smiled.

My eyes widened. So did Zelgadiss’. The werewolf’s wound was healing itself as we watched. Just like that, a huge gaping wound knit itself up until you could barely tell there had been a wound there at all.

“I’m half wolf and half troll,” Dilgear reminded us. “Or did you forget? If you keep to your word and don’t use your magic, there’s no way you can beat me with a sword. It don’t matter how good you think you are, you’re not good enough to take my head off.”

He was right. Because he possessed a troll’s regenerative ability, there was no way Zelgadiss’ sword alone could defeat him.

“I see. You’re right. I did forget that.” Zelgadiss didn’t sound fazed, though. He returned to his fighting stance. This time, he took the initiative.

“Yaahh!” He raised his broadsword high above him.

Oh! Not good! Not good!

He’d exposed his abdomen and Dilgear wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Gaa!” The scimitar hit Zelgadiss’ abdomen fiercely.

Blood splattered.

Or… blood should have splattered. Instead, the scimitar hit with a scrape and a thunk.

Zelgadiss smiled grandly where he stood.

“It seems there’s something you have forgotten as well, doesn’t it?” he said. “I’m one-third golem, you’ll recall. If you wish to defeat me with a sword, it had better be the Sword of Light. You cannot win this battle, either.”

Dilgear’s wolf-jaw fell.

“We can fight until you’re too tired to keep me from chopping your head off, or you can go back and cry to Rezo. You choose.”

“Hmph!” Rather than retreat, the were-thing brought something out of his pocket, holding it in a fist while readying it for a throw. The foreign object splashed as it hit the water.

“I won’t forget this!” That cliche was all Dilgear left behind as he vanished into the trees.

Zelgadiss watched him go. “That poor fool,” he muttered as he attempted to fix his now-terribly-disordered hair.

I clapped and whistled and jumped up and down, congratulating the victor.

“Wow, Zelgadiss! Well done! Woo-hoo!

Zelgadiss didn’t seem to be enjoying his triumph. “What… are you… going on about?”

“I’m congratulating you!”

“Ah, I see.” He gave up trying to argue and began walking slowly along the riverbank.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water to drink,” he replied bluntly

“Oooookay. I’ll wash my face then.” I jogged up behind Zelgadiss. Because of his spell from earlier, the earth had been broken up randomly, making the jog a little difficult. Still, I made it to the riverbank, if awkwardly, then removed my gloves and dipped my hands into the water. Mmmm… the cold felt good.

Huh? What the… ? “Don’t drink it! It’s poison!” I screamed.

Either surprised by the volume of my voice or in preparation for a drink, Zelgadiss’ mouth opened wide.

“What did you just say… ?”

“It’s poison. It’s been poisoned! Look!” I pointed to the surface near some small rocks. A number of fish were floating there belly-up. They were most certainly not swimming, and I don’t think fish are into tanning.

“But, how?”

“Dilgear, remember? He was getting ready to throw something? It was probably a vial of poison. He must’ve figured that you’d need a drink. He tried to make the thing’s falling into the water look harmless by aiming for you at first, then seeming to give up.”

“Huh…” He sounded impressed. “Apparently Dilgear’s not quite as stupid as he looks.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be falling all over myself to praise him if he’d just tried to poison me. Anyway, Rezo’s people know where we are now. You have any destination in mind beyond this?”

“None whatsoever.” He spoke slowly.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised. Well, that’s okay. You just follow me.” I began walking in the direction of Atlas City. I needed to find Gourry. That would change the situation a little. And if there was anything my situation needed desperately, it was a little change.

What had started off as an innocent treasure hunt had quickly become an ugly mess, with more characters gunning for my back than I cared to keep track of. It didn’t matter, though. Soon, I was going to be back to full strength, and then it would he payback time. But, for the time being, we kept walking.

* * *

Rezo and company pursued us fiercely They showed up twice in the morning and again during lunch. They showed up twice in the afternoon, and then they interrupted our dinner. And of course, they showed up while I was trying, at long last, to get some sleep.

Give me a break! This is harassment!

I mean, c’mon. It was getting to the point where it was almost comic! Like when you chop off the head of a hydra, and two more grow in its place.

And there were a gazillion varieties of pursuers, too. Whatever bad stuff you could say about Rezo, he was certainly an equal opportunity employer! I mean, trolls, goblins, cyclops, berserkers, ogres, and just about anything else you could think of or imagine. It was like a parade! Only instead of marching bands playing music, this parade had other-worldly creatures; and instead of playing music, THEY WERE OUT TO KILL US.

Eventually, it was our old friend Dilgear’s turn at the helm again. He had a new guy with him, a Mazoku of some sort. And a few war mantises and some durahans (death

knights), too. And about fifty ogres and berserkers, just, you know, for padding.

“Quite an army you got yourself,” Zelgadiss said in a voice that wasn’t as confident as usual. “Congratulations, Dilgear. Your mummy must be proud.”

I hated to admit it, but it was impressive.

“Thanks again, boss,” Dilgear grinned, taking a step forward as he showed us his teeth. “I owe you for last time, you know?”

Great.

Some pretty tough customers were in that group. On the other hand, tough customers are still flammable.

“You’re good, boss, but you’re not good enough to beat a hunch like this on your own. Nobody’s that good.”

I took a step forward. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

Dilgear scrunched up his face and thought hard, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

W-why the nerve of that… !

“Yes, you are, Dildork! You’re forgetting about me.”

“Who cares about you?“

The disrespect he dared show me was staggering. I considered displaying the extent of my powers (such as they were) in one spectacular shot.

“No, don’t—” Zelgadiss protested before I had a chance to do anything. He must have read my thoughts.

“Why not?”

“The whole point of sending one unit after another is to get us to exhaust our powers.”

“That makes sense.” Well, I’d just have to tone it down a little.

This sucks. No way around it… I drew my sword from my hip.

“How is it that they always know where we are, you think?” The question I let slip from my lips so casually had been building in my brain for a while. After all, even if they’d figured out we were heading to Atlas City, there were at least a dozen different routes there. How did they always know exactly which one we’d take?

“It’s because you’re with me,” Zelgadiss said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“How’s that?” I glanced over at him for clarification.

“I told you. My body was created by Rezo’s magic.”

Ah, I get it. Of course!

That is to say, Zelgadiss’ entire body had been magically marked. There was probably no way to stop Rezo from using him like a tracking device. Even my spell for blocking magical searches wouldn’t do it.

The only way I could think to hide Zelgadiss from Rezo was to reverse the fusion process. However, there was no doubt in my mind that this particular process was a Rezo original. And even as good as I am—me, super-genius pretty-girl Lina Inverse—there wasn’t a chance I could reverse it.

“So, no matter what we do, we’re going to have to face the Red Priest sooner or later?

“Yep.”

Well, that’s just great. Zelgadiss and I made a good team, but against someone like Rezo, even the two of us didn’t stand much of a chance. I figured at the rate we were going, it was only a matter of time before I ended up hanging from that church ceiling again. That’s what I thought at the time, anyway. With the stakes so high, I had only one choice.

All right, it’s showtime!

I began, from the back of my throat, to quietly recite an incantation.

“Fire… BALL!”

My first shot would signal the start of combat. In preparation for the attack, I brought my palms together in front of my chest. I’d kept the power on low, but a fair number of surprised ogres were still engulfed in flames.

The rest charged in unison.

I pummelled them with my next attack spell, Dig Volt. Though I was aiming for the demon at the vanguard, he dodged me. Instead, I caught the berserker behind him. I did manage to get the demon’s attention, however.

Oops.

Sure enough, he turned and started in my direction.

ine! Try some of this!

“Flame Arrow!” As I called for them, a dozen arrows of fire formed before my eyes. “Flame Arrow, GO!” The arrows attacked the Mazoku from all sides.

Dodge that, jerkface.

“Kaa!” he yelled, thrusting his hands at the arrows coming at him from the front. The rest he deflected toward the sky. Somehow he managed to dodge them all.

In the meantime, everyone else was headed in Zelgadiss’ direction.

Sorry, buddy. Not that I was having a party, but still. As low ranking as he was, I was still waging war with a Mazoku. If you weren’t careful, you might have mistaken this demon for an old man. He wore a green robe, and his white beard extended from what looked like the withered face of a geezer—but he had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Definitely not human.

“Hmph!” A whip of fire extended from the palm of his hand.

I enchanted my sword with a cold spell and sliced away at the fire whip. It took me a few minutes, but I worked my way in, and soon we stood face-to… place-where-face-should-be.

“You’re an awfully young woman to take on the likes of Zorom,” he purred from his non-mouth. Honestly, I have no idea where his voice was coming from, but there it was. Who knew?

“You’re an awfully reckless demon to take on the likes of Lina Inverse,” I countered.

Zorom made a sound that would have accompanied a smile, had he a mouth to smile with.

I brought my palms together before my chest, leaping back as I chanted my spell.

“A fireball? You’re wasting your time and your energy, little girl!” Zorom declared.

“Maybe, but let’s just give it a go and see what happens.” A small ball of light shot forth from the space between my hands. I sent the ball of light in Zorom’s direction.

“Fwaa!” He sidestepped the shimmering sphere without any difficulty whatsoever. “Just as I said! A waste!”

From a certain perspective, he was right. True, a fireball that misses has no real effect, since fireballs explode on contact. But I wasn’t done yet. I raised up my right thumb, and angled it back toward myself. Then I smiled… partly because I knew what was coming next, and partly because I was happy to have a mouth.

“What’s that grin for?” Zorom asked as he casually descended to the ground.

Fireball at six o’clock. Sucker. My fireball swung back around, nailing him from behind!

“Aaaahhh!”

Fireball go boom.

Contact. Explosion. I’ve been writing spell variations since the day I learned my first chant. That boomerang effect was just one of many.

“Carelessness is a warrior’s greatest enemy, Zorom.” Too bad. Now to find Zelgadiss…

I’d spun my mantle round and turned to find my companion, when… a craving for carnage ran through me like cold steel.

I instinctively leapt to the left, but it was too late.

“Aah!” A stinging pain ripped into my right arm. I’d been pierced by a legion of steel needles. It was all I could do to keep from crying. I looked to find the culprit and—

Zorom was still standing.

“I didn’t say I was dead. Carelessness is a warrior’s greatest enemy, you know.”

Shit. I hated to admit it, but I had been careless. I could barely move my right side.

“Now it’s my turn!” Flame whips extended from both his palms. He aimed one at my head and the other at my feet. Switching my cold-enchanted sword to my left hand, I used it to parry the attack aimed at my head, and managed to dance away from the one heading for my feet.

I used to jump rope all the time, back in the old days. Guess I’ve still got some moves.

But… for that instant when I was in midair, Zorom’s forehead split open, and more silver glints than I could count rushed out, and then toward me. There’s no way I could dodge all of them.

Tink! Tink! Tink!

Huh?

I heard a sound like metal-on-metal, and needles fell to the ground like rain.

What the—?

“Fancy meeting you here, little lady!” he winked. “Miss me?”

Gourry. Yes! “I was wondering when you were going to show up,” I replied. And tried to look cool as I winked back.

Oh, It’s On Now!

Gourry shook his head as Zorom spoke… or oozed… or whatever it was that Zorom did to produce sounds.

“An ally of the girl, are you?”

“I’m more than her ally. I’m this girl’s guardian.”

My guardian?

“This really doesn’t make any difference to me. Whichever way you define your relationship to the girl, you still wind up my enemy. Am I mistaken?”

“Not at all, old man.”

“Then I shall destroy you.”

“Go on… take your best shot!” Gourry shouted, as he took off running, luring the big, ugly pincushion away from me.

“Haaaaaa!” With that blood-curdling battle cry, the demon unleashed his flame whips and silver needles in a single volley

Gourry’s sword flashed.

Damn! I couldn’t even track the blade with my eyes. It was the first time I’d really watched Gourry’s swordsmanship in action. His skill was on a completely different level from my own.

An instant later, his blade sliced Zorom’s head open. Nice!

“Ha!” Zorom laughed.

Gourry turned just in time to knock away a battery of silver flashes headed for his back.

“So young, too! Impressive for someone so new.” Zorom spoke as if the cuts didn’t matter.

“You’re a demon, then… Gourry tossed out the question as casually as if he were asking, “So, where’re you from?”

Of course he’s a demon, doofus! Haven’t you been paying attention?

“Oh yes. Which means, you will not be able to do me damage with that blade, young man. It just won’t cut it.” Demon humor. You just knew it had to be yucky.

He was right, though. All Mazoku, including half demons, lesser demons, brass demons, and especially pureblooded demons like this one, exist on the astral plane. Their physical forms cannot be destroyed because they’re not really there— make sense? You have two options, then, for prevailing over a Mazoku: trapping him in a holy talisman (none of which were handy at the moment) or defeating him with a magical sword. Gourry was amazing with his blade, but the blade itself seemed unremarkable. Even my enchanted sword wasn’t powerful enough to do the job.

In my estimation, the situation was just about as futile as Zorom said it was. With no other choice, I was going to have to get serious.

“Oh, it’ll cut,” Gourry said curtly.

It’ll cut his hair maybe, but a fat lot of good that’ll do us!

“Oh, really?” Zorom mocked him. “Then, show me, please. I’m anxious to see this.”

“Well, since you asked…”

I had absolutely no idea what Gourry was thinking when instead of sheathing his sword he withdrew a single needle from his pocket with his right hand.

“Do you intend to annoy me to death with pinpricks?” Zorom could barely contain his amusement. “Perhaps you’ll finish me off with paper cuts?”

“Of course not.” Gourry smiled as he gripped his sheathed sword’s hilt with his left hand. “Don’t be silly.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is it that you intend to do?”

“This.” And with that, Gourry threaded the needle into the hilt.

Huh? What is he doing? He was messing around with the joint that locked the blade of his sword to its hilt. Which meant… he was detaching the blade?

Why?

Gourry drew the now-bladeless hilt, pocketed the needle, and looked up and smiled. “Do you understand now?”

Understand what?!

He was both calm and confident. Neither of which made any sense, since he was about to take on a demon pureblood while brandishing… a hilt.

“Young man,” Zorom sighed. “I am greatly amused and am grateful to you for that. But I cannot claim any understanding whatsoever.”

“Then how about—THIS!“ Gourry grasped the sword hilt with his right hand, thrusting it forward.

Yeah, no, you still look like an idiot brandishing a wooden handle, Gourry. Sorry.

“Well… I understand that you are a fool!“ Zorom laughed as dozens of flaming arrows appeared, all targeted at Gourry.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Gourry scoffed and—incredibly— managed to dodge the lot.

Still, he wasn’t any closer to defeating Zorom. It didn’t matter how many attacks he evaded, it was just prolonging the inevitable.

Zorom closed in. And then…

“Light come forth!” Gourry roared.

Zorom stiffened. My eyes widened. Zorom was bisected from his head to his toes. It took me a minute, but I did manage to scream.

Gourry held his sword in his right hand. Where the steel blade had been, a blade of light shone forth.

“Th-th-the Sword… of L-L-Light…” I stuttered.

Before my very eyes, flickering in Gourry’s hand… there was no doubt about it. It was the legendary Sword of Light. Hot damn.

Zorom’s body cleaved in two like a split log, before crumbling into dust and returning to the astral plane.

Gourry sheathed the Sword of Light, since it had done its duty.

“G-Gourry…” I finally managed, my voice crackling like oil in a hot iron skillet.

“Yes, ma’am?” Gourry grinned widely and looked my way. “How’ve you been, little lady?”

“Gourry—!” I broke into a run and headed toward him with all the speed my dainty legs could muster. I stopped and stood right in front of him, gazing up at his face.

“Gourry?”

“Lina?”

“Gimme that sword!” I screeched. “Gimme gimee gimee!” Gourry nearly fell over.

Don’t fall on the sword!

“Hey now, just a minute…” Gourry acted as if he were stumbling out of bed. “How about jumping into my arms and telling me how happy you are to see me, huh?”

“That? Sure, okay. We can do that later. But now, gimme that sword! No, wait, that’s rude. I’m sorry. Don’t give me the sword— I’ll buy it from you. How could I have been so thoughtless? I’m sorry. Five hundred! I’ll buy it from you for five hundred!”

“Now you just wait a darn minute!” Gourry raised his voice. “Five hundred… that’s totally a fair price for that run-of-the-mill rapier of yours!” I was talking so fast, it was hard to catch my breath. “Oh, all right, five hundred and fifty! But that’s just because we’re friends. Now, c’mon! Fork it over! Gimme, gimme, gimme! Don’t be stingy.”

“Don’t be stingy? Do you seriously think I’m going to hand over the Sword of Light for five hundred?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“You’re nuts! And you’re cheap.“

Throw away enough pennies, and soon you’ll have wasted a fortune. I am a merchant’s daughter, after all.

“First of all, this sword is a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. I wouldn’t sell it at any price!”

“So give it to me, and it’ll be my family heirloom! It’ll be okay then, right? Right? Just so long as it stays in a family?”

“You’re a lunatic! What’s wrong with you? No, I’m not doing it! N! O!”

“You monster! How dare you treat a little girl like that! I mean it! I’m going to cry!”

“So cry!”

“Okay, so I’m not going to cry. So what?”

As soon as I said that, I snapped back to my senses. I didn’t know why but I’d taken one look at that sword and just lost my grip. A couple of deep breaths and I was moderately sane again. Poor Gourry was just as freaked out by my snapping back as he’d been by my initial snap.

“What the… ?”

“Sorry, I’m better now. I have a thing for swords, what can I say?” I didn’t wait for a response; it was urgent we moved on. “Listen. I don’t have time to explain, but a guy who bailed me out of a pinch while you were away is in big trouble. Can you come with me to help? I owe him.”

“A-ah, yeah, sure…”

“Okay, great! This way!” I broke into a run, hoping we’d make it in time to rescue Zelgadiss. Good as he was, he was monstrously outnumbered—by actual monsters, no less. The ogres and berserkers were just the appetizers. If he spent too much time on them, he wouldn’t have the energy for the main course of war mantises and durahans, with a side of Dilgear.

We ran in Dildork’s direction.

Gourry brought out the Sword of Light and cut down a nearby durahan before he even saw what was coming.

“Here we are to save the day!” I announced.

Except, apparently, the day didn’t need saving. I had the situation totally backward. Rezo’s forces were already retreating, only one ogre and one berserker were still standing along with Dilgear, who was groaning audibly.

And…

“What do you know?” Zelgadiss sighed.

The three of us stopped.

“Yes!” Dilgear looked over his shoulder; joy spreading over his face. “Rodimus!”

The old man…

Rodimus stood there, halberd in hand. He had a companion with him I didn’t recognize. A remarkably good-looking older man.

“You came! You finally came! We’re saved!” hissed a war mantis in as exuberant a hiss as he could muster.

“You’re half right,” the swordsman replied, and he struck out at Dilgear without warning. The werewolf sailed through the air and smacked into a nearby tree, making an unfortunate crunching sound. We were all too shocked to move.

“R-Rodimus! What are you… ?” The war mantis was appalled. “Have you gone mad?”

“I am not crazy, if that’s what you mean!” He moved deliberately. “I pledged my loyalty to Lord Zelgadiss, and no nonsense from the Red Priest will cause me to stand against my comrades!”

“W-why you!” The war mantis rushed Rodimus in a frenzy. Unfortunately, that made him easy prey for the halberd.

“Doryaa!” The fight ended the instant that Rodimus yelled out. The war mantis’ torso had been divided cleanly in two. The lower half took several steps before walking into a tree. The upper half fell to the ground, squirmed for an excruciating while, then stopped. The remaining combatants scattered without a word.

“Thank you for coming,” Zelgadiss said humbly, “but I believe we have things under control.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Gourry smiled, and then turned to the two elder swordsmen. “Seriously, just so we’re clear: We’re all on the same side here, right?”

“For the time being,’“ the handsome guy responded.

Wait, where have I heard that voice before… ?

“I’m sorry for dragging you two into this, Rodimus… Zolf,” said Zelgadiss.

Z-Z-Zolf?! The good-looking guy was Zolf?! Nuh-uh!

Zolf’s gaze turned in my direction. “Well, young lady I’m glad to see you made it.”

Yeah, I’ll bet.

Don’t go thinking I changed my mind about him just because he was a looker, okay? All that mattered at this point was that he was an enemy of Rezo the Red Priest. That made him a friend of mine… an inordinately good-looking friend of mine.

“In the interest of maximizing our forces, I hope we can agree to a fresh start,” he said.

I nodded, indicating my intention to let bygones be bygones. “You do have small feet. I’m standing by that one. And you are a third-rate sorcerer—and a sadist. But an ally is an ally. Since we’re stronger together than separate, I’ll be happy to call you friend. “

“Lucky me. Guess I’m not the only one who can hold a grudge.”

“Who, me? No, not me. You are totally forgiven for trying to get me knocked up by a walking flounder. Totally. The only people who hold grudges are the ones who let their pride get the better of them. It warps their personalities after a while, and no matter how good-looking they are—”

“Look, you little bitch—!”

“Lina!” Gourry butted in. “Not to change the subject, but I need you to catch me up on what I’ve missed.”

Oh, yeah. I hadn’t given Gourry any of the details yet. Starting with the moment we’d been separated, I filled him in on everything that had happened since. The church, the fish, the escape, Dilgear, the poison, my nap… I recounted it all in rich detail. I have a gift for storytelling, as you well know.

I finished up as the sun set, “… and that’s where you came in. Understand?”

I fished for a response. “Hellooo? Any questions?”

Gourry didn’t say a word. He looked—no, stared—blankly in my direction. Everyone but me was sitting on the ground. I guessed all that fighting had worn them out. Sheesh, you guys. And I thought I had a problem with stamina.

“You know,” Rodimus said, staring at a series of tally marks he’d made on the ground in front of him. “You’ve been talking nonstop for over an hour.”

“I have?”

Everyone nodded decisively

Really… ? Huh.

“Well, anyway You got the gist?”

“Oh, I think I got more than the gist,” Gourry said, climbing slowly to his feet.

“I have a question,” Zelgadiss said, and he rose to his feet as well. “Will you now hand over the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Nope.” I sighed. “Sorry.”

“I’m not surprised,” Zelgadiss replied. There was hostility in his tone.

“Rezo wants it to restore his sight. You want it for vengeance. They’re both selfish acts, neither of them worthy of the stone.”

“Do not judge me, girl, unless you intend to start a war.”

“I don’t want to start a war, Zelgadiss, but I’m not going to hand over the stone. That’s all there is to it. If that means we’re foes, then so be it. I haven’t ruled out the possibility that this is all a scheme between you and Rezo, remember.”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Zelgadiss said, drawing his sword. “But it seems you give me no choice.”

“You could walk away,” Gourry said, hilt in hand. I guess he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Aw jeez, guys.

Zolf and Rodimus took their places on either side of Zelgadiss.

“You two fall back,” Zelgadiss commanded.

At least he was after a fair fight. Rodimus took a single step backward, then managed a grin.

“B-but…” Zolf stuttered.

“Fall back,” Zelgadiss repeated.

Dejected, Zolf withdrew.

“Wait,” I said. “Cut it out, all of you! This is stupid!”

Neither combatant could take his eyes off his foe. Zolf and Rodimus wouldn’t look at me, either.

Gourry and Zelgadiss gradually closed the distance between them.

I raised my voice. “I said, cut it out!” I screamed. “We’ll have plenty of time to fight among ourselves later. Right now, we have more pressing problems to attend to!”

“The lady has no idea just how right she is,” said a voice like very sharp glass. It was coming from right behind—no, right beside my ear. I felt something sharp and cold making its way up the back of my neck. I knew instinctively that if I so much as flinched, I’d die.

Everyone’s eyes swung around in my direction, and had a good look at who was behind me. I didn’t have to see him to know who it was. The voice was unmistakable.

“Rezo.” Gourry was the first to say his name.

“Yes. Sorry for not keeping in touch. Let us skip the usual formalities, shall we? You must know what I want, don’t you… Gourry? Oh, yes. I can feel it. Yes, you most certainly do.”

“You want the stone.”

“I do indeed want “the stone,’ as you have so disrespectfully called it. I’m certain that you understand, but please let me spell it out for you: If you should try anything rash, if you should so much as sneeze unexpectedly, I might lean forward the slightest little bit. And that motion, however slight, would be enough to drive this needle into this lovely neck, killing the girl… instantly.”

Yikes.

My heartbeat picked up the pace as I grasped the reality of what was happening. I started to sweat. Buckets.

I don’t want to die.

“He’s bluffing! Don’t do it!” Zelgadiss raised his voice to a shriek. No one bought it for a moment. Zelgadiss knew better than anyone that Rezo wasn’t the type to bluff. He was willing to sacrifice me for the stone.

A drop of sweat made its way down my cheek to my chin. It might have looked like a tear.

“Tell me what you want with the stone,” Gourry commanded.

“The girl explained it to you earlier. I desire only to see the world with my own eyes. Nothing more.”

“You would sacrifice my life for your sight?” I asked him, standing rigidly. “Why?”

“There is no explanation that a sighted person could possibly understand.”

So, that’s that.

“Now, the stone…” He tightened his hold.

“All right.” Gourry dropped his blade.

“Stop! No! Don’t give it to him—!”

Ignoring Zelgadiss��� pleas, Gourry produced the Orihalcon statue.

“Here,” he said as he tossed the statue to Rezo. It seemed to have curved through the space between them in slow motion. Rezo extended his right hand and caught it, clasping it tightly.

“I have it,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “I have it… After all these years, it is mine!” His voice had changed. He was overcome with wicked delight.

“Let the girl go!” Gourry shouted.

“Never you fear. I will release her momentarily.”

With a smash, the Orihalcon statue self-destructed as Rezo held it in his hand. The proximity of the power of the great sorcerer combined with the power of the stone was too much even for a substance as strong as Orihalcon.

Rezo extracted a small black stone from the rubble. It looked like… a rock, or maybe a piece of coal. Nothing a geologist would bother picking up. That pebble was the Philosopher’s Stone.

“Yes! This is it… this, most certainly, is it!”

Rezo tossed me onto my back.

“Oof!” I slid several paces over rough ground before coming to a stop. I reached back right away, found the needle still protruding from my neck, and pulled it out.

Brrr. Just the thought still gives me chills.

The pain had been bearable, but if that needle—which was about the length of a man’s thumb and more like a tiny sharpened razor than a pin—had been pushed in any further; it would have severed the bundle of nerves in my spinal column, and I’d have been dead or paralyzed for sure. That fiendish plot was brought to you by the renowned Red Priest. Thankyouverymuch.

Zelgadiss began chanting a spell. Gourry drew the Sword of Light.

And Rezo? He took the tiny stone from his hand and popped it into his mouth.

He wouldn’t…

Yes, he would. He swallowed it.

A strong wind gusted out of nowhere, sending my mantle flying into my face, and nearly scooping me up like a kite into the air. I covered my mouth as nausea welled within me. It wasn’t vertigo or fear. It wasn’t the wind. It was the certain knowledge that something was very, very wrong in the world.

The shears of wind that tore through the air weren’t part of a sudden storm. They were the physical manifestations of an intense miasma. In the center of that miasma, Rezo was alone. And laughing.

A roar came from Zelgadiss. With it, he sent a pillar of blue flames toward Rezo. They wound around the Red Priest like a chrysalis and then… disappeared.

Whatever spell that was—and I wasn’t familiar with it—had no effect whatsoever.

“Ah ha ha ha… ! I can see! I can SEE!”

I was mesmerized. We all were. We’d never seen anything like it in our lives. Rezo’s eyes opened. Orbs of red emanated from the darkness within. His eyes were at once the color of rubies and blood, and the tongues of fire, and behind them…

“Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! They’re open! My eyes have opened!” The flesh from his cheeks fell to the ground with a plop. Something white could be seen underneath.

“What was that?” someone asked.

Plop. From his forehead this time.

And then… I understood. I knew what had been sealed behind Rezo’s eyes. Rezo’s face transformed into a mask of white stone, with rubies fit in where his eyes should have been. His entire body, still covered in red robes, hardened into something that wasn’t human.

“It can’t be…” Zelgadiss muttered. He’d recognized it as well: Ruby Eye Shabranigdu lived.

A silence fell across the land like no silence before or since. The birds ceased their singing. The gurgling of the rivers hushed. It was as though everything had stopped to witness what was happening.

“You may choose the path that you desire,” Rezo, or Shabranigdu, said calmly, his marble mouth fixed open. “If you choose to obey me, you will be permitted to live out your natural lives. I offer you this as an expression of gratitude for having restored me to life.

“However, if you should choose to be enemies, then I will show you no mercy. Before I go to release the Demon Lord of the north, another aspect of myself that was sealed up long ago, I shall be your opponent. Choose wisely.”

It wasn’t exactly what you’d call an easy choice. To allow him to release the Demon Lord of the north was to condemn the world to destruction. To fight him was to take as our enemy one of the seven aspects of the Demon Lord, whom a God—a God—had divided while both fought for hegemony over the world. Victory in that battle had drained every ounce of that God’s power. A band of unorganized sorcerers and warriors, then, was not likely to fare well.

To outlive the destruction of the world was no better a fate than death itself.

Such was the choice we faced.

“This is foolishness!” Zolf belted out, showing no appreciation of the weight of the situation whatsoever.

“Humans are not as you remember us, Lord Shabranigdu! We have had a thousand years to evolve while you stayed stagnant!” he boasted. “No Demon Lord of the last era can stand against Zolf!”

Wow, he really did not get it. He raised both his hands high above him as he began to chant a spell.

Thou art darker than night, Thou art redder than the flowing blood, Thou through whom time flows, I call upon thy exalted name.

No way! The Dragon Slave?! The Dragon Slave is the school of Black Magic’s most powerful spell.

The Dragon Slave is a highly destructive spell that was originally created to take down a dragon in a single blow. Two or three sorcerers chanting the spell at the same time could wipe out an entire kingdom. I couldn’t believe that Zolf could handle the Dragon Slave.

I know it wasn’t very nice considering our status as allies, hut up to this point I had no idea why someone like Zelgadiss would put someone of Zolf’s apparent abilities on retainer. Mystery solved. So much for third rate…

But…

Just as I’d feared, the spell wasn’t going to defeat Shabranigdu.

“Stop it, Zolf! It’s useless!” I cried, but Zolf wasn’t listening.

“What’s this now?” Ruby Eye wondered admiringly. Of course, he knew damn well what it was.

“Wait…” Zelgadiss feebly attempted a cry. Zolf had finished his spell a moment before Zelgadiss had put it all together.

“Dragon Slave!“

An enormous explosion shot out from around the Demon Lord’s body.

“Yes!” Zolf shouted, raising his arms overhead like he’d just won a joust.

“Zolf! Ruuuun!” Rodimus shouted. He sensed it, too. It was still alive.

“What?” Zolf still didn’t understand, but a look of doubt was slowly making its way across his face.

“Dammit!” Rodimus muttered as he broke into a run toward Zolf, intending to tackle him.

A moment later, the two were engulfed in a sea of flames.

“Rodimus! Zolf!” Zelgadiss cried out. “Nooo!”

The only reply came in the form of a red silhouette in the midst of the flames. A silhouette glowing more crimson than the flames themselves.

No…

I felt like I could almost hear a voice from within the roar of the fire, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was saying.

“Run…” Zelgadiss muttered under his breath.

“What?” I replied, starting to unfreeze.

“RUN!”

On that note, the three of us fled like rats leaving a sinking ship.

* * *

Silently, we watched the small flames of our campfire burn. Each of us was reminded of the wretched sight we’d all witnessed earlier.

We didn’t stand a chance against Shabranigdu, and we knew it. We’d escaped for the time being, but we knew that no matter how far we ran, he’d find us. And you can’t outrun your destiny.

“I’ll fight…” Zelgadiss muttered at last.

“I realize I won’t win, but if I keep running, Rodimus and Zolf will never forgive me.”

Poof. The fire burned out again.

“Guess I’ll go with you,” Gourry said, perhaps finding an omen in the dying of the flames. “Even if it’s not going to work,

I can’t let you go alone.”

“I’m sorry… it wasn’t your fight,” Zelgadiss whispered.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s my world, too. And it’s my choice,” Gourry replied.

With that settled, they both returned to silence. I understood, of course, that they were waiting for my reply. It wasn’t that I couldn’t say it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t paying attention.

I was just watching the fire smolder.

“I…” I opened my mouth and tried to speak. Neither of them responded, not wanting to influence my decision, I suppose. They remained still, gazing at the glowing embers.

“I don’t want to die,” I muttered, and I kept my eyes on the fire.

“No one’s forcing you to,” Gourry turned and looked at me kindly as he spoke.

I got up. I felt anger in my blood.

“Is that so? You know what? Fighting to die is stupid. Men always talk about stupid things like ‘backbone’ and ‘honor’ before throwing their lives away! When you die—that’s it! It’s all over, folks. You can’t take honor to the grave!”

“You do as you must,” Zelgadiss spoke. “Keep running if you so choose. Just… do not ally yourself with him. If you do that, I will kill you with my own hands.”

I put my hands on my hips and let out a huge sigh. “Hey… did you hear me say I wasn’t going to fight?”

“What?” They both looked up at me, neither one understanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. Saying ‘I don’t want to fight to lose’ isn’t just another way of saying ‘I don’t want to fight,’ got it? It’s another way of saying ‘I don’t want to lose.‘ If we have even a 1 percent chance of winning, and we fight to lose, that 1 percent becomes a big, fat zero.

“I absolutely do not want to die. That’s why, when I fight… I fight to win! With you guys, of course… if you’ll have me.”

The two of them exchanged glances.

“Of course, we want to win, but I don’t know that we have even a 1 percent chance, Lina. I’m sorry,” Zelgadiss replied in what was, for him, an unusually weak voice.

“I certainly can’t defeat him with my Black Magic, but maybe in combination with your Shamanic Magic, we might have a chance….”

“No, Lina.”

“N… o? No?”

“That’s right. No. Did you notice the spell I cast on him at the time of his revival?”

“The blue flames? Yeah. I didn’t know what spell you were using, but it bounced right off him. Wait…”

“Yes. It was Ra Tilt.”

“Holy crap!” I held my face in my hands.

“What? What does that mean? What’s a raw tilt?” Gourry asked, clueless as ever.

“Ra Tilt is…” I paused, searching for a simple answer. “Ra Tilt is the most powerful attack spell of Shamanic Magic. It’s a technique used to destroy an opponent from the astral plane. Although it affects only one individual, it’s as powerful as a Dragon Slave in its own tradition.”

“Drag and slave?”

You bonehead! Haven’t you ever read a book? “Dragon Slave is the most powerful Black Magic spell that humans can use. It was the first spell used by a sage named Ray Magnus to destroy a six-thousand-year-old Arc Dragon, so they called it Dragon Slayer.

Over time, that evolved into Dragon Slave. That’s the spell that Zolf tried to use on the Red Priest.”

“If these spells are so powerful, why didn’t they work? Did they do them wrong?”

Argh, I’d had enough. “Pass. Zelgadiss, you explain it.”

“Shamanic Magic is composed of magic that uses the four major elements—earth, water, fire, and air—as well as spiritual magic that uses the astral plane. As Lina said, Ra Tilt is a spell that draws on spiritual energy from the astral plane. However, a Demon Lord is much closer to a being of pure spirit than is a human being. So, even an attack powered from the astral plane, if done by a human, barely registers against a demon. It goes without saying that elemental spells of earth, water, fire, and air can destroy a human. But of course, the power level required to destroy something made of spirit is much greater than what Shamanic Magic can muster.

“So, all the tools of Shamanic Magic are pretty useless in this case,” he concluded. “Pass.”

“Black Magic will not work on Shabranigdu for a very simple reason,” I explained, picking up where Zelgadiss left off. “The primary source of the power of Black Magic is the dark side of human nature: hatred, fear, and malice. But the ultimate embodiment of that power is the Dark Lord himself.

“Zolf said it at the start of his spell, remember? Thou art darker than night, thou art redder than flowing blood. That’s Shabranigdu he was talking about.”

I was interrupted mid-sentence.

“He said that?” Gourry looked at me funny.

“Of course he did! You were there! Oh, yeah, that’s right, you don’t know about Chaos Words.”

“Chaos Words?”

“Yeah, they’re… they’re the words you use when you’re casting Black Magic. It’s hard to explain. Anyway. That’s how it is. It’s a trade secret. Explaining it further is like saying, ‘Here, let me help you kill me!’ Even you can understand what idiocy that is.”

“What do you mean, even me?“

Oops.

“At any rate,” I continued, “White Magic doesn’t really have any attack spells. It has spells for exorcism that’ll work on ghosts and zombies, but they aren’t nearly powerful enough to affect him.

“So the long and short of it is this: Zelgadiss and I can’t beat him using magic.”

“Well, we’ve got to do something,“ Zelgadiss said, turning his gaze toward Gourry. “It looks like you and the Sword of Light are our best hope.”

“So, in the end, you’re the one who’s going to have to fight him. We’ll back you up as much as we possibly can.”

“Huh. All right. That’s easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t think there are any other options left,” I said. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Well… no,” Gourry sighed.

“It’s settled, then.” Zelgadiss nodded, sealing the deal.

“I’m pleased you’ve finally come to an agreement.”

Our gazes shot in the direction of his voice. There was no mistaking that fiendish sound.

When did he get here? How long has he been there? His blood-red darkness hidden in the nightshade of the trees… the Dark Lord, Ruby Shabranigdu.

“Combatants such as the two who met their fate back there… they weren’t—how shall I put this? They weren’t a good exercise. Too easy. I so hoped that you would choose to train with me. I have been locked away for so very long. I am—how do you say it—rusty? My countless important travels can wait until we have completed our exercises.”

“This is bullshit….” I muttered, rising to my feet. He wants to slaughter us for practice. He went to the trouble of following us so he could train, because his destruction muscles were apparently feeling a little stiff.

Sure, Zolf had a distasteful personality. Sure, Rodimus wasn’t very easy on the eyes. But he burned them alive… for sport.

I didn’t think I was qualified to give any lectures on acting humane. I’d killed people, too. And it was certainly no different for Zelgadiss or Gourry.

But…

This was different somehow. This, I would not forgive or forget.

“Train, you say? Sure, we’ll play along. We could use some training, couldn’t we, boys? But be careful, Rezo. You might be the one to regret this.”

“Ha ha ha. Perhaps. But these high spirits are good. Feisty is what I want. Or else, coming after you would have been a waste of my time.”

“We don’t intend to lose, you know,” Gourry said. Both he and Zelgadiss rose.

“Intent is completely irrelevant. Surely even you could realize this.”

“Sure,” I replied. “I get what you’re saying, Lord Shabranigdu. But we still intend to kick your ass.”

It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw the Demon Lord flinch.

“Let us begin.” And with that, the Demon Lord stabbed the ground with the staff he held in his hand. And the earth moved,

No… !

The movement wasn’t coming from the ground, rather, it came from under the ground—from the roots of the forest’s trees. Shabranigdu had animated them, causing them to creep through the earth beneath our feet like giant serpents.

“That’s kind of a lame attack.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Zelgadiss!”

“Right! Dug Haut!” He instantly understood my request.

This time, the earth truly shook.

With a single quake, the tree-root snakes were torn asunder. The twitching roots fell into their ready-made graves, the cracks in the earth spawned by Dug Haut.

“Okay, next one’s mine!”

“All yours, young lady.” Zelgadiss strained to smile.

“Oh, goody. I wonder what you’ll try. Do make it something interesting?” the Demon Lord whined.

“It’s not anything big. It’s only special because it’s mine,” I raised my right hand. A ball of light burst into being.

“Surely, you do not intend to use a fireball against me?” said the Demon Lord. He sounded disappointed. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Yep! fireball, sure enough…” and I lightly tossed it in his direction. The flaming ball lazily winged its way to Shabranigdu, finally stopping right before his eyes.

“This one is orange…” the Demon Lord said, the same way a child might identify a pet: “This one’s a bunny .”

“A direct hit from a fireball—even a direct hit from an orange fireball—won’t harm me in any way,” he whined, bemused.

“I know that,” I said, “But let’s give it a shot, just for grins and giggles.”

“I am neither grinning, nor giggling,” Shabranigdu said, slowly raising up the staff he held in his hand.

“Break!” I shouted at the appropriate moment. The ball of light split apart, its remnants falling on the Demon Lord in a helix pattern.

“What now? What is this?” the Demon Lord asked, his voice registering surprise. He hadn’t been prepared for this, and his form soon disappeared in a fiery sandstorm.

“Gourry! It’s your turn!”

“Gotcha!“ Gourry responded, breaking into a run, Sword of Light at the ready.

“Run, Gourry!” Zelgadiss called out.

“DIE, Demon Lord!” Gourry issued his battle cry. The Sword of Light hummed.

Then… Shabranigdu, the creature we’d first known as Rezo the Red Priest… began to laugh.

“The Sword of Light? The sword that slew Zanaffar, the Demon Beast, at Sairaag, in the City of Sorcery? Oh, I am sh-sh-shaking, my foes,” he stuttered. He was shaking all right. With laughter. “You will find that a Demon Beast half-breed is a gnat compared to a Demon Lord.”

Then he… stopped the Sword of Light with one bare hand.

“A little warm, perhaps, but it feels almost pleasant,” he guffawed.

Quite a monster, he was.

Gourry growled under his breath. No matter how hard he pushed, the sword wouldn’t budge.

“Little man, even in the hands of a master, such means are far too weak to defeat me. However, if it will give you comfort, you may die knowing you’ve done as much as a human can do.”

There was an explosion.

“Gwaa!” Gourry was blown back about fifty feet. He hit the ground hard.

“Gourry!”

“I’m all right!” He shouted while still on the ground, and not looking “all right” at all.

“I believe I am done toying with you. Have you made your peace? Your time to die has come,” the Demon Lord announced matter-of-factly. Some bedside manner, huh?

“Dammit, no!” Zelgadiss retreated. His form was instantly engulfed in flames.

“Zel!” I screamed.

“He’s made out of rock, Lina, it’s all right! He’s not going to burn. And anyway—take this!” Gourry shouted, tossing something in my direction. I caught it reflexively.

The heck?!

I grasped it but my eyes were on the Demon Lord, who took a step forward.

The Sword of Light?!

“Use it well, Lina!” Gourry said. “Use the sword’s power with your Black Magic!”

“You intend to use the power of Light to heighten the power of Darkness?” Shabranigdu was so amused, he no longer tried containing his mirth. “Foolishness…” He chuckled.

He was right. You can’t combine Light Magic and Dark Magic. The two opposing forces only cancel each other out.

However… !

“Sword! Give me your power!” I felt its power building in my hands. In a second, the blade of light sprang forth. Whereas when Gourry had used it, the blade was the length of a long sword, but this blade was the size of a short sword.

Which meant I’d figured right.

“Such futility!” The Demon Lord sneered. He was growing impatient with this little training exercise. No telling how much longer it would last. I began chanting as quickly as I could.

It started out just like the Dragon Slave. A spell calling on all the darkness in the entire world was nothing compared to the darkness of Shabranigdu, but I knew of another legend, about a Demon Lord among Demon Lords, who had fallen from the heavens themselves. He was known both as the Golden Demon Lord, and as the Lord of Nightmares.

Black Magic calling on Shabranigdu’s own power could not be used to harm Shabranigdu himself. But it was possible that even Ruby Eye could be wounded by power drawn from an even more powerful Demon Lord.

Thou who art darker than dark, Thou who art deeper than night, Thou of the Sea of Chaos, The Golden King of Darkness…

I swore I saw Shabranigdu begin to tremble. “You crafty little bitch! Who told you to call that name?”

I ignored him and continued:

I call upon thee, I pledge myself to thee; Let us stand together, And let the fools Who would destroy us Feel the force of our true power.

Darkness suddenly appeared, surrounding me. It was as though the air bled black—darkness become visible. An impenetrable absence from which no one could be brought back… a portal into death itself.

It worked both ways, I knew. If I lost control of the spell, the magic would absorb all of my energy… and I would die.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, having calmed considerably. “And it’s almost charming how you refuse to see the futility!” Still contemplating my charm, the Demon Lord began to chant, creating and releasing several energy balls. Each undoubtedly contained enough power to split a stone.

Suddenly, the darkness coiled around me vanished. This was to be my first-ever public demonstration of my most secret of secret techniques—the Giga Slave.

The first time I tried it, I turned a nice sandy beach into a huge inlet. I’ve heard that even now, fish avoid the place.

I was aware that no single spell of mine could defeat Ruby Eye. No matter how hard I might try. No human in history had ever been able to devise a spell that could defeat a Demon Lord. There was only one alternative left.

The shining blade of the Sword of Light continued to absorb the darkness around me. Maybe that, at least, would be felt by Shabranigdu.

The Light Magic imbued within the sword was in fact canceling out the Dark Magic from my spell. That part, Gourry hadn’t expected. However, I suspected something else was happening, too.

Confirming my suspicions, the Demon Lord appeared nervous.

Got to give it a shot… “Sword!” I called out. “Consume the darkness with your blade!”

“What are you up to, girl?”

The darkness created by the Giga Slave flowed from my hands into the blade, merging with it. It was just as I’d thought:

The Sword of Light was an amplifier of human will. The “light” is just the form it takes. What tipped me off was how Gourry could use it despite neither possessing nor understanding mystic power whatsoever. It’s willpower that both controls it and determines its strength.

I wasn’t at all convinced my plan would work, but it was quite literally the only option remaining….

“Enough of this!” The Demon Lord readied his priest’s staff. He muttered in a low voice, speaking in a language I had never heard before.

Not good! My sword still needed more time to absorb all of the darkness from the Giga Slave.

No matter how large or small the spell a sorcerer is casting, a mystic field protects him or her for the duration. As long as I was casting the Giga Slave spell, the field would be protected from those powerful energy balls. The question was: How much could the Demon Lord’s mystic field withstand while he cast a spell? To be honest, I really wanted some way to test my idea before actually trying it.

In any case, I was still in the middle of pouring the Giga Slave’s energy into the sword. Finding out whether or not the mystic barrier would hold was going to have to wait.

The tip of the Demon Lord’s staff glowed red.

Faster!

A Demon Lord wasn’t going to go down in half-measures. This was—

“End this!” Zelgadiss’ voice called out.

Who is he talking to?

“That’s enough…! You said you wanted to see the world, didn’t you?! I don’t believe you want to destroy it! LORD REZO! Hear me!”

His speech was frenzied. He was close to babbling.

But then… the spell stopped. The red glow atop the Demon Lord’s staff vanished.

Shabranigdu—or Rezo, perhaps?—lowered his gaze to stare at Zelgadiss.

Gotcha! I just need a moment more…

After a long pause, Shabranigdu spoke scornfully, “Foolishness…”

At that instant, the Sword of Darkness was fully loaded.

“Rezo the Red Priest!“ I called out. “Hear me!”

The blade of the Sword of Darkness extended as I spoke.

“You can allow Shabranigdu to completely devour your soul, or you can avenge yourself! The outcome is yours to determine. Choose well!”

“Yes…” whispered a gracious voice from within the Red Priest’s form.

“Impossible,” cried Shabranigdu from the same mouth, at the same time.

“Sword! Destroy the red darkness!” I said as I brought my weapon down upon him.

The black light abandoned its shape and advanced toward the Demon Lord.

“Such a pathetic little cloud! I shall return it to you in a storm!“ The Demon Lord raised his staff. Dark energies massed together, forming a pillar of black flame, and then…

Something went wrong on his end. Perhaps whatever was left of the good priest Rezo had intervened… ? What-ever had happened, the power of the sword was able to break through.

“Yes…” I whispered, and for a moment, felt real hope. I wiped the sweat off my brow.

Within the pillar of flames, I could discern a quivering form. The silence was finally broken.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” The Demon Lord’s laughter was loud enough to shake the forest.

“No…” I collapsed to my knees.

“Congratulations, human!“ he continued laughing. “I didn’t think it possible!”

I heard a quiet crackling sound.

“Well done. Well done, little bitch. You, above all others of your kind, deserve to hold the title of “Master.’“

Hey, I’m usually happy to take compliments wherever I can find them, but at that point, I had no energy left for happiness. I had used all of my power in that one attack. Not one ounce of strength remained for escaping the radiating heat of the pillar of fire. All I could do was fall to the ground and try not to breathe in the searing smoke.

“Unfortunately, child, I doubt you’ll live long enough to repeat this feat. As impressive a sorceress as you may be, you are still only human.“

CR-ACK.

That crackling sound, again. What… ?

“Then again, those who employ sorcery sometimes live for centuries. Even I cannot predict the course of history, or if another part of me will awaken while you live….”

Huh? What does he mean… ?

I raised my head, finally seeing it: Countless small cracks ran along the body of Shabranigdu the Demon Lord.

“I could recover over a lengthy period, and do battle with you again… but no… no. I choose to honor you, and accept… my destruction.”

“Here… I die.” Both voices became heavy. Ruby Eye Shabra-nigdu’s, and Rezo the Red Priest’s.

The cheek of the Demon Lord’s mask split off. Before falling to the ground, it turned to dust and scattered through the air.

“It was amusing… young… lady…” the wind sang. “Thank you… my regrets…”

“Truly… truly…”

“Ugh… uhhhh… ughhh…”

I stared blankly as the smiling form of the Demon Lord, Ruby Eye Shabranigdu, turned to dust before my eyes.

Only his laughter remained, released in the wind.

Epilogue

Is it… over?” By the time Gourry finally broke the silence, Shabranigdu’s body had long since blown away. “Yeah,” I croaked, my voice dry with the smoke and heat. “Thanks to Rezo.”

“Rezo…” Zelgadiss spoke as he stared at the place where the Demon Lord had stood. He was finding it hard to believe it had been destroyed.

“You knew it, didn’t you? That Rezo’s soul was still there inside him? Even after the Demon Lord corrupted him— over months and years, a part of the good in him remained, hating the Demon Lord for having deceived him. Without his help… the dark energy I created would have drained my own.”

“Just the same, Lina, what you did was really something.” Gourry stared at me, speechless.

Then, Zelgadiss too.

I bet they’re both in love with me. It just goes to show you— “Your hair,” Gourry whispered. They were staring at my silver hair. The mark of an excessive drain on one’s life force.

“L-Lina… your hair…” Gourry stepped back. Like it was contagious.

“I’m A-okay. I just used a little too much power. I smiled sweetly. “I am tired, though. How about you guys?”

“I’m… fine….”

Liar. Despite what he said, Gourry seemed a bit wobbly “I’m… not dead yet, at least.” Zelgadiss looked like he was doing just a bit better than Gourry.

“Okay, well, I’m glad,” I murmured. Still smiling, I spread myself flat on my back and closed my eyes.

It felt good to just let my tired body… rest.

* * *

It took us three more days to get to the point where we were within sight of Atlas City. I raised my voice as I caught a glimpse of the cityscape in the distance.

“Yay!” I shrieked. “Tonight we can eat good food and sleep in soft, fluffy beds….” My hair hadn’t returned to its normal chestnut yet, but I’d completely recovered from the fatigue.

“It’s been quite a trip,” Gourry sighed.

“Well, then… it seems this is where we part company,” said Zelgadiss abruptly.

“Why?” Gourry and I both asked at once.

“Although I have appreciated our time together, someone of my appearance is ill-suited for large cities such as this one.”

“Oh… I see. I’m sorry.” I knew arguing with him would be pointless. “What are you going to do from here?”

“Well, I’ll do as I please on my own. I’d just cause trouble if I stayed with you two….” He rubbed the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“Should we live much longer, I’m sure we’ll meet again…. I only hope that the next time, it is I who can be of assistance to you!”

“I’m sure well meet again. I hope so,” I said, and before he could leave, I awkwardly shook his hand.

“Someday,” Zelgadiss replied softly.

You know, for a guy with stone for skin, he was quite a softie.

“Take care.” Gourry waved lightly.

“Yeah. You, too.”

Goodbyes said, Zelgadiss released my hand, turned his back, and walked away

“Lina…” Gourry began, as we both watched Zelgadiss’ shape grow smaller in the distance.

Since the battle with the Demon Lord, Gourry had taken to calling me “Lina” instead of “little lady.”

“Lina, the way you shook his hand… you’re not falling for that guy, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed.

“I don’t think it’s so ridiculous,” he said, and mercifully changed the subject. “So, what are you going to do when we arrive in Atlas City?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” I fell into thought. “How about if you give me that Sword of Light like you said you would, Gourry?”

“I said what? When?”

“You’re not going to hand it over then?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s too bad. I’d be nearly invincible. It would make a spectacular research project….”

“I said no.”

“Yeah, I know,” I nodded.

“So what are your plans?” Gourry asked in confusion.

“I’ve decided I’ll keep traveling on ahead.”

Where to?” he asked, still not getting it.

“Wherever you go.”

“Huh?”

I’m going to follow you everywhere you go until you decide to give the Sword of Light to me.” I winked. “Anyway… let’s go.” “Oooooh,” said Gourry, smiling. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With that, we began moving forward. On to Atlas City.

[maxsevenbetterplaylist]

fire jewels theft – jake peralta x reader;

author’s note: I TOLD YALL THIS WAS COMING I’M NOT EVEN SORRY btw this is part one because i figured out i’d split it into at least two so. also if you don’t know a thing about avatar: the last airbender, just think about it like this: there were four nations, each of them represented one element and some citizens (benders) of those nations had the ability to bend (manipulate, or, in case of fire, even create) that element. in the original avatar universe, after a 100 year war, initiated and lost by the fire nation, all of them are now mixed up and live in harmony, although they have different cultures and all that jazz, but this is a little different. it’s as if something happened and made the four nations live together and evolve into the world we have today, except with the cultural differences and bENDING. enjoy!;

pairing: firebender!jake peralta x earthbender!reader;

request: uh no one because no one caresss but i did take the idea from this post right here, it’s an avatar: the last airbender!brooklyn 99 au;

word count: 2174;

tags: @linslovelylocks (reply or send me an ask if you want to be tagged on imagines!);

TW: probably swearing. mention of guns;

You sighed as you let your bag fall on your desk and sat down. The precinct slowly began to fill up with cops, chatter and phones ringing, and you turned on your computer and grabbed the case file from the case you were currently working. On the other side of your desk, Charles' chair made a puff noise when he settled down. 

"Hey, Y/N, have you solved the Fire Jewels Theft yet?" He asked in a friendly tone, but you still sighed and frowned slightly. 

You had been working thaut case for over a month now. Some relic jewelry from the Fire people, that belonged to a well-known firebender and supposedly dated from when the Sun Warriors were the main firebenders, had been stolen, and you were the officer assigned to figure out who did it. Whenever you got a new lead and thought you found a pattern, however, a new theft happened to another fire family, and you were back to the drawing board. 

"No, not yet." You admitted, and he pursed his lips in sympathy. "I have a lead though. There will be an exclusive fire-culture event tonight and there’s chatter on the streets that says that the thief will be there.”

"Except you can't go in, Y/N." A third voice said, and both of you looked right to see Jake Peralta had just arrived. As per usual, he had a cocky smirk on his face. "Like you said, it's a fire-culture exclusive event. An earthbender like you won't get in without blowing your cover, it's like you have earth written all over your skin."

You rolled your eyes. Jake had been pressing you to let him help with the case since he found out about it. You knew that he was a firebender, but he never seemed to care too much about the fire culture. You'd overheard him and Gina talking about his family a couple of times, and you actually thought they were all airbenders except for him. You just didn't know why he cared so much about this case, and you wouldn't let him help unless he told you. 

"Jake does have a point, Y/N." Charles reinforced, to what Jake raised his eyebrows. He gestured at your green and brown clothing (ref). "Not that that's bad, but anyone in the precinct could tell you were raised by earth people."

"As if you were any better, Boyle." You shot back, referring to his beige and green outfit and complete lack of shoes. He threw his hands up. 

"I plead guilty, but I'm not the one who needs to sneak into a fire culture party."

Jake smirked when you rolled your eyes again, turning around and walking back to his chair. "Face it, Y/N. You need me on the case. I can teach you how to dress and behave like a fire person, and, if they doubt anything, I can pull some fire or lightningbending. I'm your best option."

"I think you meant last option." You told him, smiling mockingly. "I can behave and dress like a fire person on my own, and, if I can't, Holt will help me. Not all fire people are firebenders, so I won't need that, and weren't you raised in an airbending family anyways?"

Jake's smile faltered for a millisecond, but, before you could even think about it, he opened his mouth for a witty comeback. As the words began to leave his mouth, however, Captain Holt entered the bullpen and called the two of you. "Peralta, L/N! My office, immediately."

Jake mouthed 'I told you so' to you, but you chose to ignore him and follow Holt instead. Once you were both inside his office and the door was closed, he asked both of you to have a seat. You did, analyzing the small LGBT flag by his desk before he started talking. "So, you might remember that I agreed with you, L/N, about how Peralta was not professional enough to deal with the Fire Jewels Theft, right?"

"Most definitely do, Captain." You answered shortly. 

"And you, Peralta, must remember how I reinforced that all of the times you came to ask me to be included in the case, right?" 

"Clear as day." Jake said with his usual humorous undertone. 

"And, as it turns out, there is a fire culture exclusive event tonight." Holt said, and you cringed, predicting his next words. "Now, Y/N, I do not doubt your capacity to do this by yourself. I am actually pretty sure you could pass as a fire raised woman if it was what you wished. However, Peralta is a firebender, which would make your cover stronger, and with all his recent research into the fire culture, I think he could be a real asset to the operation."

Despite being pissed by having to include Peralta, that was not what drew the most attention on what Holt had just said. Jake had been learning more about the fire culture? But why? And how didn't you know about it? You looked at him and realized he wasn't celebrating being included, but rather pressing his nose bridge and sighing – you weren't supposed to know. Probably no one was. 

"Is this really necessary, Captain?" You inquired. "I really can handle it. I also think Detective Peralta has other reasons to be interested in this case and he refuses to tell me, and that might compromise the operation."

Holt, however, nodded firmly. "Jacob will be... Fine, Y/N. The two of you can take the day to work on the case, figure out your strategy and covers and preferably solve your personal problems like grown ups before going to the event tonight. Gina has your tickets. Don't ruin it. Dismissed.”

As soon as the Captain stopped speaking, Jake got up from his chair and left the room in silence. You followed him back to his desk, where he sat down and sighed. You landed on his spare chair, observing him carefully. After a couple moments of silence, you cleared your throat. “Jake, why have you been studying fire culture?”

Jake struggled for a few seconds before answering. “If I tell you it’s no biggie, will you be convinced?”

“Absolutely not.” You replied quickly, and he sighed again, bending over the table so his face was closer to yours.

“Alright, fine.” He said, and you realized he was measuring his words carefully. “You were right about my family. My mom, Nana and everyone else in it are air people, airbenders actually. My dad is a firebender, and that’s why I am one. But he left us when I was seven, and I never knew nothing about the fire culture. Or firebending. Actually, I was pretty suckish at it until Holt became our Captain. He showed me how to use my gift and how firebending isn’t only chaos and destruction as I thought.”

“So you wanted to learn more about the fire culture.” You completed him, starting to catch up. Jake reclined against his chair, shrugging. You felt your conscience weighing on you. “Jake, that’s actually really sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He replied and you realized his little moment of emotional vulnerability was over. Great. “Please don’t start telling people about it. I don’t want the squad to think – ”

“To think that you actually have emotions?” You questioned rather ironically, but Jake smirked slightly.

“Emotions? I don’t know what that is. Can I eat it for lunch?” He inquired playfully, and you smiled.

“And he’s back.”

"Duty calls." He smiled knowingly at you and you chuckled at him. 

"Damn right it does."

"No, seriously, we have to work. We need all information on this case and on this nights event as soon as possible."

"Oh. Right." You said, blinking. "It's all on my desk. Come on, lets do this."

Hours later, you found yourself late to the party you and Jake were supposed to go undercover. He was supposed to pick you up at your apartment, and, surprisingly, he seemed to be on time, but you spent longer than you predicted trying to get the little golden hairpin right. God, how did fire people do it? Why couldn't everyone just use normal hairpieces that attached properly to one's head, like earth people did? Fire people were just insane. 

That said, when the bell rung, you were still in your PJs, the dress being the only thing missing to your cover. You heard Amy, who you lived with since the Academy, rushing to the door, and, then, back into your room. She put her head into your bathroom to see you. "Y/N, Jake's already here."

You cursed under your breath. "I'm a little late... Tell him to come in and wait in my room?"

"He's also dressed ridiculously."

"It's for the operation. Just let him in?"

"Are we really letting Jacob Peralta into our apartment?"

"Amy!"

"Fine! Just be quick."

"I owe you!" You said as she closed your bathroom door and left. You grabbed the fire culture-looking dress (ref) you'd rented from a shop, under the excuse of being a cop, and put it on. Although you thought it was too much, it was actually a pretty dress. The red and golden details looked good, and it fit you really well. You took one last look in the mirror before walking out. 

"So?" You said, drawing Jake's attention from your bedside portraits. He was wearing what looked like sort of a burgundy blazer with golden details (ref), black pants and his old good fire culture pointy shoes; and you had to admit he was one of the few people that could pull that outfit off and still look ridiculously good in it. "Fire culture enough?"

Jake held back laughter. "Ok, don't get me wrong." He said defensively. "You look good. You really do. It's just... That is a fire culture wedding dress."

You blushed. So your research wasn't thorough enough. "Why the heck do you guys wed in red? White is the best color for wedding dresses!"

"White is the color for grief in the – “ Jake started, but stopped when he saw your cold glare. “Hey, don't look at me! Air people don't even have a fancy ceremony like you all do!" He defended himself, but then smiled, grabbing a bag he seemed to have left on your bed and handing it to you. "But not to worry – I brought a backup plan."

You opened the bag to see shiny red fabric in it. "How...?"

"Captain's sister, Debby. He knew you'd mess up." Jake said, and you rolled your eyes. "Now go put that on! We don't exactly have all night!"

You rushed back into the bathroom, untying all the knots and taking the bridal dress off. Without paying too much attention to it – you were late to a very important operation, after all –, you grabbed the new dress (ref) from inside the bag and put it on, zipping it up on your lower back and regulating the knot upper. There was also a necklace, red jewels with golden details, and you tried to put it on, fumbling a little before giving up. You shot the door open. “Hey, Jake, can you come in here and help me with the necklace?”

“Sure thing, Y/N!” He said, and you checked your hair, putting a couple of pins back in place as his footsteps approached. When Jake entered the small bathroom and looked at your reflection, his jaw dropped. He had never seen you in red before, as you were raised by earth people, but, damn, that was a waste. The color looked great on you, and the fabric seemed to hug all of your features perfectly. It was as if the dress had been made especially for you. The burgundy lipstick you were wearing and how your hair gracefully adorned your face didn’t help either – Jake had never felt so attracted to you, and he had to admit he did feel attracted to you most of the time. Eventually, you felt his stare, and he cleared his throat. “Wow. You look just like my – just like a fire person. The dress fits you really well.”

You blushed a little. “Thanks. I didn’t think it’d fit, me and Debby have different shapes.”

Jake looked away, seeming eager to change subjects. “So you can take down bad guys but not put a necklace back on?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just help me already, you asshole.”

He stood right behind you, fumbling for a second with the strings before successfully attaching them to one another. You were surprised by how warm his hands were – but then, he was a firebender. “There.” Jake said, taking a step back when he was done.

“Thanks again.” You smiled, touching it as though you doubted it was really done for a second. Then, you reached for your gun, which you left over the sink – it had been hidden in the bridal desk – and put it in your hand purse. “Now, lets catch some bad guys.”

“That was badass.” He admitted, nodded. “But it would have been way better if you had said it anywhere but inside your bathroom.”

“Shut up, Peralta.”

[avidfanficwriter]

Rollins Vs. Amaro. (Chapter 1)

Characters: Amanda Rollins. Nick Amaro. 

Rating: M. 

Summary:

Warnings: Talk of abuse. Drinking. Anger. (more to come)

Authors Note: Takes place during the episode Spousal Privilege. Mainly after/During Nick and Amanda’s encounter at the bar which inspired me. (was posted on Fanfic but i lost rest of the story so, I’m reposting here technically) 

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

Chapter One: Drunken Fights. 

Amanda had got at the bar earlier than Nick did, an hour before they were even suppose to met. Drink after drink, she ordered and drank down. By the time Nick arrived, she had a buzz and wasn’t anywhere close to stopping. He walked over to her, smiling; no longer dressed in his suit but now a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a brown jacket. If she hadn’t of already been drinking, she would have been frustrated that he was late but instead took another long swig of her drink. 

“I started without you.” She said as he approached her eye sight, sitting on the stool next to her. 

“Went to the gym first.” Was all he said ordering a drink for himself. 

He fibbed. He wasn’t at the gym, in fact the last twenty-some times he’d used that excuse it was nothing more than an excuse. Most of the time, he was drowning himself in alcohol or dialing Maria’s phone number begging for her to talk to him. This time he was mentally yelling at himself for screwing up his relationship with Maria and now loosing his daughter. This case wasn’t helping, seeing Paula and A.J. having issues not exactly the same as he was in but they also couldn’t fix them, the only way he found how was the hit Paula. Nick could never allow himself to do that, no matter the problems he and Maria had. He would never lay his hands on her, not even in a joking manner. He wasn’t that man. His marriage was hanging off an edge of a cliff, Maria didn’t want to talk anymore, she didn’t want to see him; she wanted to leave. He didn’t blame her, he allowed it to happen. When he was finally able to talk, she was leaving. 

“You okay?” Amanda asked. “That was rough.” 

“Well, Calhouns just doing his job.” 

“Yeah, but she had no right to go after you like that.” Amanda said taking another sip of her drink then scoffing. “She’s got a point though.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, trying to hide his confusion. “Yeah, what point is that?” 

“That it’s a private---private manner...” Amanda was trying to composure herself, to pass off that she was sober but she looked anything but. The blonde resembled a kid who had just found alcohol, over indulging their selves in it. “between Paula Martin and her husband. I just think we’re over reaching.” 

Nick sits up straight, “Amanda, he hit her. End of story.” He couldn’t believe he was having to stress that point to Amanda of all people. He knew he shouldn’t have to, any sane person on this earth would feel the same but her, being an Special victims detective made it worse. She had a job to fight for the victims not the bully. 

“So, we get to decide what’s best for her? That’s infantilizing. That’s” She scoffs again. “that’s making her the victim all over again.” Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Nick looked at her, in disbelief. “Take it easy.”

Amanda did the opposite. “You counting my drinks now?” She accused in a annoyed tone. Nick clenched his jaw at Amanda, watching her stare at him in her drunken glaze. “Saint Nick? Right? Savior of damaged women.” She said leaning closer to him. 

“Stop.” Nick said in a loud tone. “Look, all I’m saying is: no man has the right to hit a woman.” 

“That’s right. That’s right.” Amanda agreed. “But some of us, don’t need to be saved. Okay? Like you married a woman who didn’t. Right? Maria?” She chuckles, proud of herself. “I saw the way she went after you in the squad--” 

“I never laid a hand on Maria.” He interrupts her, angered. 

She continues egging him on. “Yeah, but you never wanted too?” Not at all?” She asks leaning closer, she not even in her chair anymore, now standing on her own two feet trying to get right into his face. “She got to you.” A wicked smile appears on her face. “She still gets to you.” She pushes him, her hand colliding with his shoulder and shoving him away. 

“Right.” Nick agrees, trying to turn his attention back to this drink. 

“Huh, that doesn’t get to you?” 

“No.” 

She pushes him once again, harder this time. “Come on. That wouldn’t get to you?”

“No.” ‘

‘Really? How about that?” She speaks quicker now, pushing him harder and harder. Trying desperately to prove her point. “Come on, Nick, I know it does.” 

“Are you jealous of Maria?” Is that whats happening now?” He asks in both annoyance and anger, hoping that just maybe this would stop her pathetic attempt to anger him further. 

It’s her turn to look at him in disbelief. “Really? That’s where you’re going with this?” She asks. 

Nick’s plan failed, miserably. ‘Then what are we talking about here?” He asks. 

“You! Nick!” She says pushing him again. Harder, now grabbing the front of his shirt, tightening her grip around the cotton material. “No, no, no, Just drop the rock. No, we’ve just all seen you loose it. The whole squad room heard you yelling at your wife on the phone.” She continues pushing him, pulling him so he has no choice but to look at her in the eyes. “Listen, Paula Martin has the right to choose whether she presses charges or not. Okay? Because some of us don’t want to be victims.” She hit him this time, forcefully colliding her hand with his chest. 

“Hey!” He shouts. Rising to his feet so quickly, he kicks his chair back. He walks right in front of her, towering of her. His breathe quickens and he steps back, being a better man than she was expecting to get. He hits his drink, causing it to shatter on the floor. He wanted to yell at her but the last thing he was going to do was give her exactly what she wanted. He was done. 

“Alright, I’m gonna do what A.J. Martin should have done” He pulls his wallet out, slamming money on the counter, “walk away.” He gives her one last look, grabbing her drink before walking away. All eyes are on Amanda know, the drunken blonde causing a scene in the bar. 

Amanda resumed her seat at the bar, chuckling with amusement. “They’re all alike! They think they can tell us what to do. Order us around and all because of that thing they have in their pants.” She chuckles again. 

It wasn’t long before the bartender cut her off, telling her to get home. She argued as expected, going on about how she was a police officer and deserved respect. Unfortunately for Amanda, she was escorted out of the bar and told to come back when she could behave herself. The left her tab open as a courtesy to police officers but took her badge number in case she decided to skip paying it off.

She argued and kicked the whole way out, creating even more of a scene before tossing her jacket over her shoulder and stumbling down the road. She’d taken her hair out of the ponytail, letting her blonde hair flow in the slight breeze.

Amanda was drunk, far to drunk to think right and even worse could barely navigate where she was. Which helped stem her next bad decision. She pulled her cell phone out, after getting into a fight with her pocket. Dialed Nick’s number and held it to her ear.

He didn’t answer. It went straight it voicemail and he rant began. “Hey…. Nick, Nicky, nick.” She said in a slurred voice. “You… You are a good one, you know. Maria.. Maria, she doesn’t deserve you, I know that. Yo–you know that. Maybe you shouldn’t hit her but you should tell her you deserve better, you know? Tha–that you are better.” the sound of a car honking take her voice away from the phone as she shouts at it. “I’m on the phone asshole!” she tosses an arm up in the air angered. “But yeah… ” she says turning her attention back to the phone. “Just say it. Like you mean it. It’ll be fun, Nicky.” she takes the phone from her ear, glancing at the screen, ending the call before she spots another bar.

It was one thing she loved about New York, there was always a bar no matter where you were.

Nick’s eyes slowly fluttered open to the sound of a television in low, his head was pounding and his eyes were dry. Slowly, he sat up, letting the blanket fall from his chest when he noticed Maison was sitting in front of him. She was seated directly in front of his legs, a coffee mug in her hand and her eyes starring at the television paying no attention to him.

He groaned as fully sat up, “He’s alive.” Maison shouted with glee as she finally turned to face him.

Maison had a peculiar sense of humor and most of the time, it came out at the worst moments. They’d meet when she was just a rookie, had two weeks experience on the job when she stumbled upon a crime scene that had multiple illegal drugs and weapons. She was tiny but tall a good 5'7" with chocolate hair and a pair of light brown eyes. She was native to Staten Island but moved to The Bronx when she was eighteen. She joked at the scene in perfect ear shot of nick, “Maybe I should bag me up a few of these drugs for the headache, my paperwork is gonna give me.” Nick jokingly responding: “The dealer would give you hell.” It was a start of a beautiful friendship, with time she’d became a family member. “Aunt Maison.” Who came bearing gifts to make Maria and Nick miserable. As well as an outlet for Nick, when he and his wife fought, Maison would sit along side him listening as he went on and on about their problems. Usually within a few hours, he’d make his way back home to apologizes, coming to the conclusion he was in the wrong and things would be better until next time.

The most recent time, he came out drinking, a pained look on his face as he told the story of his wife cheating on him. Maison denied it, knowing with absolute positivity that she wouldn’t do that Nick or Zara. Only it didnt end there, Nick went full recon, spying on her and ultimately ruining his relationship for good. Rather than taking him home after their night of drinking, she was taking him to a hotel room and making him hand over his gun and go to bed. He was a mess. Which is how he wound up living with her, in her tiny two bedroom apartment. It’d been six months since he officially moved out of his home and into hers, boxes still sat in her living room and the spare bedroom.

Nick put his hand to his head. “How long have you been awake?”

Maison raised her hand, glancing at her watch. “Two, three hours.” She says then pointing her hand at the end table behind Nick. “There’s water and a aspirin on the table for you.”

Nick rubbed his face, breathing deeply and slowly started pulling his tie off. He was a miserable mess and overwhelmed by the fact that he didnt accident my choke to death in his sleep.

“Big night?” She asks, watching him drink the water.

“No.” He nods.

“Maria?” She asks focusing her attention back to the TV.

“Amanda.”

Slowly, she shifts her gaze back to him, confused. “The blonde chick?”

“Yeah.”

Maison chuckles, “Doing real great with the women in your life.” She smiles, taking a sip of her coffee. “What’d you fight about?”

“I think she wanted me… to hit her.” Nick says confused. He wasn’t sure if that was what Amanda was trying to do or if she was simply just angry. It could have been both for all he knew.

“Wait? She wanted you to hit her?” Maison chokes out, blinkly quickly.

“I-I dont know.” He says shaking his head.

“So?”

“What? Did I? Is that what you’re asking?” Nick raises his voice at her, puffing out his chest. “No, I didn’t.”

“That’s not what I was asking and you know that.” Maison objects annoyed. She puts her mug onto the coffee table. “So you what decided to drink besidehe while she tried to frame you for abuse?”

Nick cocks his head at her, “No, I left Amanda and went to another bar.”

Maison nods. The pair sat in silence, Maison returning her attention to the news and Nick laying back down and starring at the ceiling. Maison had only meet Amanda and the gang once or twice around the time Nick has first transferred to SVU. Right off the bat, Maison could tell Amanda was trouble and because Nick was the sweet, far to caring guy that he was he didn't see it.

It was Nick’s first month at the new precinct, he sat at his desk across from Olivia’s, starring at the pile of paperwork. Fin was slowly making his way to Nick’s desk.

“Hey, newbie. What do you say you join us for some drinks?” Nick meet Fin’s eyes and suddenly realized everyone else’s eyes where also on them as well.

“I.. Uh… I appreciate the offer but I’ve got plans with a friend.”

“Bring ‘em.”

“I dont know, she’s homicide. My old squad didnt want anyone who wasn’t narcotics around.” He says, shrugging his shoulder.s

Fin who was now sitting on Nick’s desk, chuckles looking over at his partner, John. “As long as she ain’t the rat squad, she’s alright in my book.” He then glances at his desk, starring at the paperwork he had yet to touch. “But compared to my paperowkr I got, I’ll take your homicide friend and the rat squad any day.”

Nick and Maison arrived at the bar, quickly ordering their drinks and heading over the group of svu detectives. Olivia was the first to introduce herself to the young detective, shortly after Fin and John followed.

“I thought Amanda was coming.” Nick said looking around.

“Running late.” Fin said smiling The detectives all squashed together at a table, sharing the horror stories of past cases mostly at the fault of Fin and Maison. The two trying to top one another. Half an hour later, Amanda walked through the door, smiling as she approached the table. It wasn’t a pretty scene, her hair was a mess, eyes glazed and kept blinking it was uncomfortable yet no one said a thing, Nick however could tell that Maison was starting too and casually stepped on her foot to prevent her from. She gritted her teeth, elbowing Nick in his side while the conversations continued.

As the hours ticked by the detectives made their way home, leaving Nick, Maison and Amanda sitting at a table together trying to make small talk. Maison would have opted to leave shortly after Fin did but Nick was her ride and if she’d taken a taxi, he would have been tailing her, so Maison sat leaning on the wall as she played with her drink watching Amanda pull her lower lip into her mouth. She was flirting… With Nick. Openly flirting. A small smile, a chuckle, a casual hand rested on his bicep and some corny comment asking if he’d been working out. It was pathetic. Nick knew what was going on, he wasn’t furthering it but he also wasn’t putting a stop to it.

“Hey, Nick. Don’t you think it’s time to head home? Zara’s probably not asleep yet, huh?” Maison asks, not actually wanting to go home but wanting to escape the drunken escapade of Amanda Rollins.

“God, what are you his mother?” Amanda retorted, chuckling.

Maison smiled, leaning her arms on the table. “No, just a detective that knows how to handle their liquor.”

“Sure, it’s not Nick you want to be able to handle?” Amanda remarked with a smirk.

Maison cocked her head with an annoyed expression on her face. “Excuse me?” She asked in a tone Nick knew far to well.

“Maison, you’re right. We should start heading home.” He said putting his arm on her shoulder trying to keep her in her seat. “Amanda, this was fun but I’ve got to get home to Zara.”

“Nick, come on. Dont listen to her.” She whined, trying to grab his arm.

“Maison, let’s go.” He said, forcefully pulling Maison out of the chair, making her follow him.

Inside of the car, Nick looked at Maison disapprovingly, mimicking an expression he’d give his own daughter. “How the hell is she a detective?” Maison asked avoiding his gaze.

“She’s a good cop, Maise.” Nick argued.

“Yeah, good at making cops look bad.” Nick didn’t respond.

The memory wasn’t a pleasant one for either of them, Maison nearly ripped Amanda’s head off and Amanda was trying to sleep with him. “I told you something was off about that girl.” She said finally breaking the silence and glancing over at him.

“She’s not off, she needs help.”

Maison stood up, grabbing her coffee. “Amado, you need help now. Drink your water and don’t sleep with her. You’ve got enough problems.” She said leaving the living room.

She disappeared down the hall and shortly after the sound of the shower starting proved she wasn’t planning on coming back at least for a while. He laid back down, checking his cell phone and saw he had five missed call from Olivia. Instead of calling her back, he shut off his phone. He wasn’t going to work today, not with a hangover and not after what happened with Amanda. Instead he was going to lay down… until Maison kicked him off the couch and do nothing all day.

[letthesleepingdoglie]

The Long Road - 04

Title: Culmination

Part: 04 of 12

Rated: T

September 5 th , 2014

Gotham City

12:47 AM EST Team Year Four

“Batgirl.” Nightwing said, dropping down into one of Gotham’s many alleyways.

The female vigilante stood triumphantly over what looked like a pair of would be muggers, looking satisfied with herself. In contrast to his more subdued tone, she was clearly excited to see him.“Nightwing.”

She smiled he landed on the ground next to her. “There you are! I was worried.”

“We need to talk.” He told her. He pulled out his grapnel launcher and fired it, ascending to the roof of a nearby building. Without having to check, he knew she was using the equipment he and Batman had given to her barely a few months ago to skillfully follow him.

Batgirl was enthusiastic about crime-fighting, but she wasn’t cocky. When she’d first donned her home-made cape and cowl, she’d mostly stuck to small time criminals and muggers. That had brought her to Batman’s attention, who then tracked down Gotham’s newest vigilante and made a deal with her.

In return for new equipment and advanced training on how to use it, Batgirl had sworn to them that she wouldn’t approach situations in Gotham that they thought were too tough for her. It wasn’t a question of trust, but of skill.

Batgirl had been trained in various martial arts, and that gave her an edge over the would be muggers and rapists that she encountered in certain areas of Gotham, but she wasn’t up to the task of clashing with an assassin from the League of Shadows, or dealing with a squad of mercenaries employed by any of Gotham’s major crime families. At least, not yet.

She could tell that something was wrong as she landed next to Nightwing. He had his back to her. “What’s happened?”

“Robin is… gone.” Nightwing said sadly.

“What?” Her tone was clearly shocked.

“He’s dead, Batgirl.” he said, using some of the rage that he felt from his brother’s death to color his tone. “Things have changed. You can’t be do this anymore. You need to hang up your cape and cowl.”

Her hands twitched towards her utility belt, as if afraid he was going to take it from her then and there. “It’s not up to you.” She said, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “You don’t get to make this choice for me.”

His comm chimed in his ear. Probably one of the Team members, M’gann or KF probably, checking in on him again. He banished the call with a touch of a button before continuing to speak. “If you don’t quit, I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” She glared.

Nightwing was unfazed. “I’ll tell your father, Barbara .”

She gasped in fear, unconsciously reaching up to touch her cowl to make sure it was still there. “How did yo-“

He crossed his arms. “I’m a detective, remember?” He said flatly. “Either you stop now, or I stop you. It’s that simple.”

It took a measure of self control to keep his tone and expression flat. He hated doing this to her; she’d always been one of his closest friends. Barb wouldn’t meet his gaze, clearly distraught about the prospect of losing the opportunity to be a vigilante.

“Why do you want to do this?” He asked her, again keeping his voice flat.

She looked up at him, but didn’t answer, confusion beginning to color her dismayed expression.

He started moving towards the edge of the roof.

“You have one week to figure out your answer.” He declared. “If you need more time to figure it out, you shouldn’t be doing this. If you put on your costume again before then, I’ll know.”

He somersaulted backwards over the edge, arms wide as he fell. Barbara gasped and sprinted to peer over the edge of the roof, but it was a wasted effort. He’d disappeared.

July 5 th , 2016

09:34 EDT

Wayne Manor

Can I really do this?  Dick thought as he surveyed the meagre array of belongings he’d packed for his trip.

Yes. He’d already made up his mind. The rest was just details.

While they might have received the League’s official approval to form the Team three days later, in Dick’s mind, July 4 th would always be the day he, Wally and Kaldur first come together to do great things.

As Kaldur had said that night, exactly 6 years ago, together they had forged something powerful. The three of them, him, Kaldur, and Wally, had come together and freed Superboy from Cadmus. That night had been the first time he realized he could step out of Batman’s shadow and stand as a hero, all on his own.

The symbolism of officially starting his leave of absence today felt right.

Apart from Zatanna and his adopted family, the only people he’d informed that he was leaving were Kaldur and Dinah. He’d felt that Kaldur deserved to know he was leaving, given his friend’s role as the Team’s leader, and he’d told Black Canary out of professional courtesy. Now that she’d replaced Captain Atom as chairman of the Justice League, she needed to know what resources were at available to her. Or not.

Keeping his preparations for leaving secret from Bruce, Alfred and Tim had never been a realistic option, but none of them had questioned his decision to leave. In a way, Dick felt better that they knew; once the Team worked past its initial grief and came looking for him, his family would help cover for him.

Satisfied that his bags were packed, Dick turned to his computer and keyed in a code that would erase his search and message history completely. Covering his tracks made sense; he didn’t want to be located before he was ready to come back.  

Once the process was done, he scooped up his duffel bag and left his room.

Bruce was waiting for him in the Manor’s expansive dining room, wearing a charcoal gray suit and browsing the paper. At this point in the day his mentor was usually already at the office or the Watchtower, but Dick knew that Bruce had stayed behind today in order to see him off.  Not for the first time, he was grateful for his adoptive father’s unquestioning support.

“I’m going now.”

Bruce nodded and stood up slowly, walking to stand in front of him. He set a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Say goodbye to Tim and Alfred before you go.”

Dick nodded and turned to leave the room, but was pulled short. “Dick.” Bruce said.

He turned to look at his mentor questioningly.

“Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to be… I’ll support you.” There was respect in Bruce’s eyes, mixed between sadness and pride. The pride of a father who had seen his son take on impossible odds and win. The sadness of a father who might never see his son again.

Dick didn’t have the words to express how much the support meant to him, and settled for giving his adopted father a heartfelt hug. “Thank you.” He whispered.

Tim and Alfred were waiting for him in the main hall leading to the garage.

Evidently Tim had still been sleeping before Alfred had grabbed him to say farewell. He was still dressed in his pajamas, and there was a definite dent in his normally perfect crew cut from the way he had slept on his pillow.

Dick reached over and ruffled his adopted brother’s hair. “Sleep well?” he asked, smiling. Tim swatted his hand away, before stifling a yawn.

“Indeed he did sir.” Alfred said, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Young Master Tim was snoring so loud that dust was shaken loose from the rafters.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Tim replied as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. “How is it I can hear you snore from two floors up and three rooms away?”

Dick chuckled as Tim finally managed to gain some semblance of consciousness. Tim looked up at him. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah. I was going to leave before you woke up, but Bruce…”

“Yeah.” Tim said, looking away.

Dick pulled him into a hug, which Tim reciprocated. He was proud of how much his little brother had matured in the last few months. He was smart, capable, and a good leader. Dick wished he had been as good as Tim was at his age. His only problem was confidence, and that couldn’t be taught.

Once they were finished, but before Tim could step out of reach, Dick grabbed his little brother and trapped him in a simple headlock. Roughly, he ran his knuckles across the top of Tim’s head, which elicited a laugh from Tim and a smile from Alfred as the youngest member of the Wayne Household struggled to get free.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you fix your hair, porcupine. Don’t forget, you got a girl to look good for now.”

As Tim finally wriggled free, smiling this time, Dick turned to face Alfred. Quickly, the butler pulled him into another hug. “Make sure you take care of yourself sir.”

Dick smiled at them before picking up his bags and walking to the garage, where his modified Ducati waited for him. It was time. He tucked his bag onto the bike, making sure it was attached securely before grabbing his helmet.

He hit a switch, and the garage door slid open. Rather than the empty driveway that he expected, Barbara was standing in front of the garage. It was clear that she’d been waiting for him.

“Going somewhere?” She asked him flatly, arms crossed.

He laughed, but the sound was bitter, even to him. “You really are a detective.” He sat back on his bike. “Who told you I was leaving?”

“Dinah.” She said defiantly. “She was worried about you running off on your own. I know we didn’t end things on the best of terms but… You’re still my friend. I still care about you.” She walked over and placed a beseeching hand on his shoulder. He stiffened. “Please, talk to me.”

Dick looked up at her blankly. “What is there to say, Barbara? You made it pretty clear when you broke up with me that you couldn’t accept me because of what I’ve done.”

It hurt him to says those words. He’d loved her, once. He really had. Barbara was smart, beautiful, strong. When they’d finally gotten together, less than a year ago, he’d thought he’d found someone who understood him fully. Her outburst on the Watchtower had shattered that illusion.

He’d accepted her rage at his deception before, but now… now he could feel anger beneath it. Not just anger at her, but anger at his friend’s death. Anger for everything that had ever been unjustly taken from him over his life so far. He struggled to keep his rage in check.

“You lied to everyone on the Team. You lied to me, Dick. You didn’t trust me. You let me think one of my best friends was dead! How did you think I was going to feel?”

“I thought you’d be angry. What I did, I knew you’d be angry. But I trusted you to understand why I did it.” His voice broke, and he turned his head away. “I really didn’t think you, of all people, would reject me.”

“I’m sorry.” Her tone softened at his expression. It was clear that she was struggling with a mix of emotions too. “I’m here for you now.” She said soothingly. “Me, Zatanna, Kaldur, M’gann. The whole Team. We will help you get through this.”

Dick looked at the ground. “No.” He met her eyes again. “I’m sorry, but no. It’s too late for that.”

“You know what I really need, Barb? I need the last 10 years of my life back. Where I would’ve gotten to be a normal teenager. Where I get to live a life not worrying about the fate of the world. Without having to bury my parents. My brother. My best friend.”

“Dick, you can't blame yourself for his death. It wasn't your fault!” Barbara yelled, frustrated with his inability to accept help. She immediately knew that she’d said the wrong thing. Dick’s face hardened into something she’d never seen before; something frightening.

“That’s the point!” Dick screamed at her, unable to contain his rage any longer. “Why do you all think saying that will make me feel better?! I did everything right and he died anyway!”

He pointed outside, out the open garage door. “You think I want to go out there and be on my own? I want to be a hero again, work with the Team I helped create. I want to go back and be with the only friends and family I have left. But I can’t.”

He flipped the kickstand up on his bike and gunned the engine. “Leave me alone.”

He didn’t look back as the bike roared away from the manor, leaving Barbara in tears.

Barbara keyed the comm in her ear with a shaking hand.  “I’m sorry Artemis. I screwed up. I used to think that I knew how to talk to him, but now…” She took a shaky breath. “He’s gone.”

————————————————————————————————————

July 5 th , 2016

Barcelona, Spain

19:52

He rode for an hour from the manor to a small private airstrip outside the city limits, where a private jet was waiting for him. He left the bike when he boarded; Bruce would have it picked up and returned to the Manor later.

From there, it was a relatively quick and comfortable flight to Barcelona. He could’ve simply taken the Zeta tube from Gotham, but he’d decided against it. For one thing, it didn’t seem right to rush through his journey.

There was also a much more practical reason he’d decided against using a Zeta tube: each time someone used the tubes, both the point of origin and destination were logged, and using one would’ve left a clear trail for someone to follow. In contrast, the flight Bruce had chartered for him had been under an assumed name, and the smaller airports that catered to private jets usually had fewer cameras and less strenuous customs and security to deal with.

The whole point of taking a break from the Team had been to re-examine his life on his own terms, and he didn’t want anybody, especially the team, intruding on his contemplation until he felt he was ready.

Dick made his way towards the city center, and eventually passed sign that proclaimed proudly in big bold letters “Haly’s International Traveling Circus”.

The circus wasn’t fully assembled yet. Off in the distance Dick could see workers erecting the big top using long guide wires and a veritable fleet of big rigs were arrayed in the parking lot, waiting to be unloaded

Still, Dick felt happy. He’d come back to his first home.

The sights that greeted him as he walked around the area devoted to Hill’s Circus filled him with a sad nostalgia. He’d spent years here, playing with the other performers, practicing on the trapeze with his family. In taking him in, Bruce had given Dick a good home and family that he’d always be grateful for, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been born and raised a wanderer.

Despite the pain of loss that the recollection brought, he had missed this place, and the happiness it had brought. He could still see his mother, fussing over him and making final adjustments to his costume before a performance. His cousin John, who would often watch him during the day when his parents were busy.

His reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice that called out to him. “Is that who I think it is?”

Dick smiled as he spun around to see a familiar figure approaching him. The man in question wore a simple shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and his pants were held up with suspenders. Inwardly, Dick was surprised to find the old man still up and about, since he knew that his old ringmaster had to be pushing 70.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Haly.” he said, somewhat awkwardly. He extended his hand. It had been almost 5 years since they’d last seen each other, and 10 since they’d last been able to really interact. Dick found he didn’t know how to treat the old ringmaster.

“Please son, just Jack,” Haly chuckled, ignoring the proffered hand and pulling Dick forward into a giant bear hug. ”Lord knows you’ve earned the right to call me that.”

He motioned for them to walk, keeping his arm wrapped around Dick’s shoulders in a fatherly manner he led him away towards the RV that currently served as the show’s main office.

“It’s good to see you again.” Jack said, patting him on the back affectionately. Dick appreciated the warmth and kindness his old ringmaster was showing him. He hadn’t known his biological grandparents, and the closest he’d had to a grandfather as a kid had been Jack Haly.

“You’ve come back at a good time, all things considered. We’ve had a good couple of years, and I decided to buy out Hill’s circus to get some new blood under this old big top.”

“I’d heard.” Dick said earnestly. “I’m glad too. I know things were rough for you a while ago.”

“Mmm.” Jack grunted in agreement. “So what happened Dick? You get adopted and disappear for five years, and then you suddenly show up and help with that Interpol trouble in Europe. Five years later, and now you’re back again. I’m not in trouble this time. At least, I don’t think I am.” Haly raised a questioning eyebrow at Dick, who smiled and shook his head.

“So that means that the trouble is on your end.”

Dick took a steadying breath. “I don’t want to lie to you,” He said. Dick felt like he’d done enough lying to last him a lifetime. “But, there’s a lot I can’t tell you about the last few years.”

Haly nodded. “Of course” he clapped Dick on the shoulder as they kept walking. “Just tell me as much as you can.”

Dick’s mind worked quickly, trying to boil his story down to a manageable level while keeping any compromising details out.

“The basic story is that I kept a secret from my friends. A big one. It ended up hurting a lot of them, and my best friend died before I could make it up to him.” They stopped walking, with Dick avoiding Jack’s gaze as he continued. “My life’s just been a mess the last few years, and it feels like everything I’ve done to fix it has made it worse.”

He breathed. “I just need to get away from my usual life for a while. Find a place to think.”

Dick felt Jack squeeze his shoulder before he gave him a reassuring pat on the back and ushered him further towards the center of the circus.

“So you came back home, just like you should’ve done.” Jack said warmly. He motioned at the assembled big top, and the circus performers milling about outside, and despite himself, Dick smiled.  “I’ll give you the quick tour, then we’ll talk about getting you set up here.”

He hugged Dick closer to his chest as they walked. “It’s good to have you back son.”

Once they arrived at the main office, the two of them chatted some more. Hill’s was starting another European tour, and was planning to stay and perform for about three months. Jack gave him a quick tour, covering the logistics of having Dick live and work there once again. After another day or two of setting up, Dick would be able to join a group of Trapeze artists Jack had signed and practice before their opening. Dick found himself excited. He was looking forward to being back on a trapeze.

“That’s your bunk covered.” Jack said, as Dick emerged from the interior of one of the many trucks that comprised the fleet of vehicles required to move the circus around. Jack had offered to put Dick up in one of the apartments the circus was renting  for its performers, but Dick turned him down. He wanted to stay close to the circus.

Jack walked on, with Dick following close behind. “I’ll introduce you to the trapeze guys later. Maybe breakfast tomorrow at the cafeteria.”

“Alright.” Dick said.

“You got a stage name picked out yet?” Jack asked. “I’m assuming you’re going to want to keep your real name quiet, just like that last time.”

Dick considered Jack’s question. He most definitely did not want his real name appearing anywhere on the circus’ promotional material, where it might be easily found online. After a moment’s thought, he spoke.

“Put me down as Daniel Lloyd, for old time’s sake.” Dick said, knowing that Jack would understand the reference. Dan had been the stage name he’d used while undercover at the circus years ago, and Lloyd had been his mother’s maiden name.

It seemed fitting.

“Alright.” Jack agreed. “Daniel Lloyd it is.” The old ringmaster waved a hand towards the emerging big top. “Welcome back to Haly’s Circus.”

September 10 th , 2014

Gotham City

1:11 AM EST

Team Year Four

“You’re here.” Nightwing said, dropping down onto the roof of the building that he’d left her on several nights ago. He’d been tracking her movements, enforcing the ultimatum that he’d set for her.

“Surprised?” She asked. There was a bit of playfulness in her tone despite the obvious resentment.

He thought about it for a moment. She was early, but the mere fact that she’d put on the uniform and waited for him meant that she’d made a decision.

“No.” He said ruefully. “You’ve always been a stubborn one.”

He tilted his head. “So? You have an answer to my question?”

Her eyes blazed. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

“Barbar-“ He began, but she cut him off.

“I told my dad myself. Two days ago. This is what I want. I won’t let you or anyone else stop me.”

He was stunned. “Wow.” Barbara’s father was a lot like Zee’s had been. He’d met Commissioner Gordon more than a few times in his civilian identity, knew how protective he was of his daughter. More than once, Barbara had complained to him about how overbearing he could be.

“That must have been difficult.” He said sympathetically.

She crossed her arms. “As if you care.”

That hurt. Nightwing didn’t expect it to, but it did. He did care. That was the whole point of trying to get her to stop.

He sighed, taking her by the arm. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“You’ll understand when we get there.”

They made their way to his bike, and he drove them out of the city via the highway, and then off road into the wilderness. Although it looked like an ordinary sports motorcycle, various upgrades to the suspension, tires, and shock absorbers meant that he was more than capable of handling the rough terrain necessary to get to where he was going.

It took half an hour of riding, going through the woods and up and down various hills, but eventually they arrived safe and sound. He pulled off his helmet. “We’re here.”

Barbara unwrapped her arms from around his torso and looked around.“Where are we?”

He didn’t answer her, pulling a bundle of flowers from the motorcycle’s storage compartment and walking off towards a solitary tree at the edge of a hill.

“What’s…” She began to ask, but her voice died off as she realized what she was looking at. Three gravestones were arranged in a neat row. Two of them were larger, built for a couple, while the third was small, meant for a single grave.

“It’s why I do what I do.”

She made her way over to him. Despite the fact that it was dark, there was enough moonlight for her to read the inscriptions on each stone. She began with the smallest.

“John…” Barbara’s eyes widened as she read the last name. “…Grayson.” Quickly, she moved on to the next gravestone. “Karla and Richard Grayson.” She almost tripped over herself in her haste to get to the last gravestone. “John and Mary… Grayson.”

He ignored her and knelt down tidying his family’s graves, removing weeds, debris and other leaves before placing the flowers he had brought with him on top of the dirt.

“Oh my god…” she whispered to herself, as it dawned on her who was behind the mask. She turned back to face him, her eyes wide with shock. She pulled off her cowl slowly, not removing her gaze from the man in front of her. “Dick?”

Nightwing sighed as he peeled his mask off. He raised his head so that his eyes met hers, the expression on his face a mixture of sadness and resignation. “And now you know.”

Barbara began to breathe rapidly, her mind racing as everything fell into place. “But then, you and Bruce are… and Jason was…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes.” Dick said, looking at her the entire time. “Jason was the second Robin. We told everyone he died in a bombing during one of our trips abroad, but the truth is, he died saving millions of people.

She struggled with this information, too shocked for words. That didn’t stop her from trying though.“Wha-…. How… Why?”

“Barbara,” Dick said, finally moving forward to her. “I’ve never spoken to you about my childhood. I know you already know most of the story… but this is the truth.”

“I grew up in the circus with my family. Then, when I was 9… My family was killed by a mob boss named Tony Zucco. He was trying to shake down the Circus for protection money, and our ringmaster Jack Haly refused to pay him. Zucco sabotaged our trapeze rig, and my family died. My family was killed… to send a message.”

He knelt down in front of his parent’s headstone, placing a hand on top of the heavy marble. He didn’t look away from his parent’s names as he spoke.

“Bruce was in the audience that night. He saw what had happened to my family, he saw what had happened to me. He knew that I wouldn’t rest until I brought their killer to justice. He took me in, trained me. And I’ve been working to make him proud ever since.

He got up and turned to face her. “You have to understand Barbara. I never asked for this. The kind of trauma Bruce, Jason and I went through, it’ll never let us stop. We will keep fighting the good fight until it kills us.“

“I don’t want this for you.” He said, his voice soft. He gripped her by the shoulders, fingers tight as he spoke. “Live your life. Let me protect you. Leave the good fight to Bruce and me.”

Gently, she stepped forward and hugged him tightly. Dick was dumbfounded, but returned the embrace. “This isn’t just about me. You know the system is broken. You, Batman, my dad. I want to help. I want to take some of the burden off of your shoulders.” She whispered. “Could you really think less of me for wanting to make a difference?”

“No.” He whispered back, resigned. He held onto her for some time, taking comfort in her embrace.

When they finally broke apart, it was so that he could look her in the eyes again. “Bruce will never accept you. Not now. Not if you keep going the way you’re going.”

“Then…” She hesitated.”What do I do?”

He gave her a determined stare. “You listen to me, train with me. And we change Batman’s mind, together.”