#I think ms. hunt would have a restraining order against me-

[robo-milky]

Cloche and I are at optimal heights

[staliaqueen]

bittersweet | 16

pairing: stiles stilinski x oc a/n: three chapters in two days???? what?? what has happened to me?? no seriously, I finished this in one sitting and was gonna wait till tomorrow until I published it, but then I thought “nah, fuck that” and now we’re here. hope you enjoy! warnings: animal attack, mentions of a panic attack and, surprisingly, no angst as far as I can tell.  wordcount: 1518

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Valerie

I sat at my usual desk in History class right by the window in the second row to the back. I liked sitting in the back. There weren’t as many people watching you and it was more private. God, that sounds so lone wolf-y. 

I never liked that word. I just never liked wolves I guess. Plus it doesn’t make any sense. Wolves aren’t alone. They hunt in packs and mate for life. Lone cat, lone bear, lone fox, and even lone sloth would’ve made much more sense. 

My eyes drifted to the new girl when she walked into the classroom. Her name was Kira and she was really pretty. She was Asian, had long wavy black hair, and doe-like eyes. She was wearing a purple and black flannel dress and a black leather jacket. 

With all that had happened recently, I could really use a friend, and since Erica was no longer around and Ethan had gone MIA (maybe there had been some truth to what Stiles said) I would have to make some new ones. 

She stopped in front of Scott right beside my desk. 

“Hi. I’m Kira,” she said. “You knew that. I knew you knew that. I don’t know why I just told you that again.”

Scott smiled and Kira shook her head.

“Anyway,” she said as she took her backpack off of her shoulders. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” Scott questioned. 

Kira nodded and opened her backpack. “Yeah. About the Bardo. My explanation was sort of all over the place, so I did some research and printed it out for you.”

Scott chuckled. “Ah, you didn’t have to do that.”

“It only took a couple of hours,” Kira reassured as she searched through her backpack. 

“Wow. Then you really didn’t have to do that.”

Kira didn’t answer but continued searching. It seemed like she couldn’t find the research. “I swear I printed it out,” she insisted. 

“Kira!” 

Kira turned around as Mr. Yukimura, our new History teacher and also Kira’s dad, called her name.

“You forgot all the research you did for that boy you like.” Mr. Yukimura handed her the papers and walked away, not realizing his mistake. I had to bite my lip in order to restrain from physically cringing and facepalming.  

Kira was frozen in her place and Scott’s mouth hung open. As Kira turned around and faced him again Scott’s expression changed into a small smile. But Kira couldn’t see that since she was too busy avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. When Scott took the papers she defeatedly sank down into the desk beside me. Once Scott had taken his seat I leaned over towards her. 

“I love your dress.” 

Kira looked around for a second as if to make sure that I was talking to her and not someone else. 

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I love your hair.” 

“Thanks.” I smiled back. “You’re Kira, right?”

Kirra nodded. 

“I’m Valerie. Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand towards her and she took it. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” 

“Don’t worry about Scott,” I tried reassuring her. 

“You saw that, huh?” 

“Look,” I said, placing a hand on her wrist, “I’ve known Scott since fifth grade, okay? He does not think you’re weird. Even all that was your dad’s fault. Yes, you’re a little awkward but in a charming way. And Scott would be a total hypocrite if he didn’t like someone because they’re awkward. I’ve seen him do way worse.”

Kira chuckled a bit. 

“Like way worse.”

She laughed even more. I could tell she was successfully cheered up. 

“Besides, you’re, like, a total smoke show. He would be crazy not to be into you.”

Kira smiled. “Thank you.” 

I shrugged, taking my hand away from her wrist and leaning back in my seat. “No worries.”

“Hey, would you maybe wanna hang out some time? Wow, that totally sounded like I asked you out- I wasn’t asking you out. Not that you’re not pretty or anything I just don’t really have any friends here and you seem really nice so-”

“Kira!” I interrupted. 

“Yes?” Kira stopped rambling and looked at me. 

“I’d love to hang out with you! I actually don’t have that many friends either, believe it or not.”

Kira smiled. “Okay, that’s great.”

Kira and I turned to face the board as her dad began his lecture. 

“All right everyone, let’s get started. We were talking about internment camps and prisoners of war. There’s a passage in our reading that I’d like to go over in more detail. Who would like to come up and read-aloud for us?”

No one volunteered. 

“Mr. Stilinski, how about you?” said Mr. Yukimura. 

Stiles looked up at him. “Oh, uh, maybe someone else could.” 

“Everyone participates in my class Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles looked worried. I didn’t know what, but something was definitely wrong. 

I raised my hand. “I can read the passage, Mr. Yukimura.” 

“That’s very nice of you Ms. Thomas, but I asked Mr. Stilinski.”

God, give the guy a break. I just volunteered. 

Stiles sighed. “Okay.” He stood up and walked over to the podium. He looked down at the book but did not begin to read. Instead, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched on the side of the podium. He looked up, breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded. My brows drew together in worry. 

Scott stood up from his desk and began walking towards him. “Stiles, are you okay?” 

Stiles didn’t answer. He just stumbled against the podium. He looked like he was going to faint. Scott rushed over and put his hands on his shoulders, steadying him. 

“I should take him to the nurse’s office,” he told Mr. Yukimura, who nodded nervously in response. This was your fault jerk. 

With permission from his teacher, Scott led Stiles out of the classroom. 

---

The school bell rang and everyone began gathering their stuff and walk out of History. 

“Do not forget the chapters on President Carter!” Mr. Yukimura reminded everyone. 

I was just shoving the last book in my bag when Kira nudged me. I looked up at her and she gestured towards Scott’s and Stiles’ old seats. 

“They forgot their bags,” she said. Indeed they had. We exchanged a glance and I nodded. Kira picked up Scott’s backpack and I picked up Stiles’ and I led her towards the nurse’s office where we assumed they’d be. 

“Maybe they went to the locker room to calm down,” I suggested when they were nowhere in sight. 

I led her to the corridor where the entrance to the boys’ locker room was located. Just as I was about to open the door Kira stopped me. 

“Wait! This is the boys' locker room,” she said nervously. 

I shrugged. “Don’t worry. I have supervision to be here. I’m Coach’s assistant. Besides, I assume Stilinski had a panic attack. It’s not like they’re changing for gym.” 

Just as I was about to open the door again, a low growl came from beside me. Kira and I slowly turned our heads to the left and immediately discovered the source od the sound. 

A coyote stood looking at us at the end of the corridor. It growled again, much louder this time. 

“Oh my god,” Kira breathed into my ear as the coyote pounced towards us. I quickly pushed her through the door. I closed and locked it as soon as we both were in. We dropped the bags and ran to the other side of the room, pressed ourselves to the lockers and tried to still our rabid breathing. 

Soon we could hear the sound of a window breaking. The coyote was in. 

The next moments were painfully slow. I had no idea how much time passed. All we could hear were our own breaths and the occasional low growl from the coyote as we prayed it wouldn’t find us. 

Then we heard loud growling right around the corner from the lockers we were pressed against. Trying not to scream in panic, I grabbed Kira’s hand and nodded my head towards my left. She nodded and we slowly began to make our way backward, keeping our eyes on the corner where the coyote could jump out at ay second. 

Suddenly, a hand was put on my shoulder and I jumped. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I turned around and found that the culprit was just Scott. But Scott didn’t even look at us. He just quickly led us to stand behind him as he pushed down the row of lockers, making them fall on each other like domino bricks. 

Something in the way he moved made it seem like he had done this before. But that was impossible. 

The growling stopped and Scott began walking forward in search of the coyote. Kira grabbed onto my hand again and I squeezed it reassuringly as we followed slowly behind Scott, not wanting to be left alone. 

There was no sign of the coyote anymore. The lockers falling had scared it off and it had run away. 

(not my gif)

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[brownstonearmy]

2020-09-25: Juiced! (Part 5)

August 7 (Friday midmorning)

After the events of the previous day, you'd think our lovely band of adventurers would catch a break. BUT YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN! Messages, insights and calls to action proliferate throughout the party.

Lucky receives a letter from Miss Mavis asking for a favor:

"Lucky, can you and your friends help me find a crystalline energy amplifier? I need one for a restoration project. They're worth a hefty price, but I'll gladly reimburse if you find one."

Norm, meanwhile, has learned that Yance Elbereth is convalescing at SHART HQ. The time to strike against his assassination target is nigh!

Spleenifer has learned through meditation and spiritual attunement that the waterskin from the monk is a type of holy water and the decorative bowl is actually a bowl of Commanding Water Elementals. And on Spleenifer's first day of official work as Mayor Dunwall's assistant, she has been asked for her input how best to solicit donations to help the Mayor with reelection.

Q (going as Jay on this auspicious day) found a note under their door:

"From one bard to another, here's a piece of advice: never trust a Stout you can't drink. I have Stout problems of my own, if ever you want to meet for a pint at the usual bard hangouts. I'm easy to find, since the scales stand out. -Kadana Meristan"

Everyone splits up to start on their respective tasks, so let's follow one adventurer at a time and see where things lead!

Up first we have have Jay, and they strike out for the Juicy Lyre tavern to meet up with the mysterious author of the letter. Kadana, an attractive dragonborn, is nursing a pint while composing a song on the back of a playbill. After Jay takes a seat, she explains that Lawrence Stout was once her patron. But like Jay, she got into some hot water when things got a little too close between Kadana and Russell Stout. The younger Stout seems to have a habit of fraternizing with the arts (as the euphemism goes). But in Kadana's case, her arts funding got cut off as punishment.

Jay and Kadana muse for a bit on strategies to get back at Lawrence and/or Russell. The best way to strike back seems to be breaking up the Stout family businesses, but neither of them are quite sure how to go about doing that. Kadana excuses herself to attend to some other bardly matters, but it's clear that Kadana is playing this as a playful round of hard to get. Folks, we're seeing the beginnings of a beautiful friendship (and possible romance)!

But we must fade to black for now and pick up on Spleenifer's tale! She's back at the Mayoral Manor to discuss the upcoming election strategy. On the way over to the Mayor's place, she found a slightly-charred scrap of paper that probably fell out of someone's pocket during the events of last night. It reads: "You promised me I could use the ring to fix my problem. -Rooney"

Spleenifer stuffs the scrap in her pocket and focuses on the task at hand with the mayor. Since Zaribeth Quickfingers is mounting an unexpectedly strong campaign (though really, any campaign at all is probably unexpectedly strong against Dunwall), the incumbent mayor needs to take the special election preparations seriously. Spleenifer suggests mounting a spin campaign to solicit donations, but her methods are a bit... unorthodox:

"Make it say incontinent instead of incumbent!"

That'll surely take away from the discontent brewing about the mayor's presumed incompetence! What's a giant dung beetle to do? Approve the suggestion and blast it out across town, of course!

Now we switch POV to Lucky, who suggested at the start of the adventure that the party should investigate an unusual announcement in today's Brownstone Bugle where the Meyrick family was looking to hire someone to kidnap their daughter for ransom. But Lucky isn't abandoning Miss Mavis's task! In her words, she's gonna try to kill two stones with one bird.

Lucky is already familiar with crystalline energy amplifiers, and knows they can be found in certain naturally occurring crystal deposits. The catch is that only the biggest crystals (worth at least 1,000GP) can function as a proper amplifier, but she's got a lead on a potential source in a mine about 10 miles east of town. If Lucky can win the audition to kidnap the daughter, she could potentially stash her quarry in the mine while looking for crystals.

She knocks on the the door of the Meyrick estate, and the butler escorts her Mr. Meyrick's study. Mr. Meyrick is a skinny man with wild hair that is graying at the temples. If Gary Busey was a used car salesman and the characters knew what car salespeople were, that's what everyone would say the elder Meyrick looks like.

Mr. Meyrick asks Ms. Lucky Proudfoot what her plans for his daughter are, and she explains the plan. She also plans to scurry off to the mines in a mobile house on chicken legs for extra dramatic flair. The daughter can work in the mines hunting crystals while waiting for the ransom payment to arrive. Meyrick thinks this is an excellent plan and hires Lucky on the spot. He just needs some time to subdue his daughter before she'll be ready for the exchange. Come back later this evening, he says, and she'll be Lucky's problem for the next few hours.

Now's the perfect time to switch over to Norm, who's sneaking his way to where Yance is staying. The recently-concussed trader of illicit antiquities is laying on a cot staring at the ceiling. Norm applies some of the St. Ignatius's Re-Dead Juice to his dagger and moves in for the kill. But Yance rolls over just as Norm enters the room and makes eye contact.

All is not lost, though! Norm shifts into playing the part of an ally who is checking in on him after the concussion. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Norm asks. He goes through a series of simple tests and then "checks for bumps" on the back of Yance's head. That's when Norm makes a tiny nick at the base of Yance's hairline with his poison-coated dagger. Yance passes away seconds later, peacefully slumping back onto the cot.

Sounds of a loud scuffle erupt outside, and from Norm's vantage point, it appears to be a fight between five drunken sailors and a sober-seeming ship's officer. Despite being split up, the rest of the party is close enough to hear the sounds of the brawl and everyone converges on the scene.

Lucky triggers a wild surge and casts Suggestion on one of the sailors, telling him to "make love, not war." Every time she blinks, a duck appears nearby. The sailor under the influence of Lucky's Suggestion grabs a fellow sailor by the arms and pulls him over for a deep kiss. The sailor on the receiving end of the kiss is surprisingly receptive to the romantic gestures, and they stumble away from the fray to keep the passion burning.

Norm exits his building, dashing through alleyways so as to make it look as though he came from a completely different building. There's a drunken brawl and a separate manly make-out session and at least a dozen ducks by this point. What the heck is happening here?

Spleenifer, having been a sheltered woman of faith, has never seen men kiss before. She grabs a duck and announces to her newfound companion: "Let's watch together!" Regardless of the duck's opinion on the matter, it's along for the ride. The passionate pirates are flattered by Spleenifer's audience, but their ships don't really sail that way, if you catch their drift.

While all this chaos is unfolding, Lucky has a bit more fuel to add to the fire. She drops her suggestion and casts invisibility on two pirates and the officer. It's hard to fight when you can't see each other, right? Well, it does stop the fight for the most part, as the two invisible pirates stumble off to rob a bank with their newfound invisibility powers.

The remaining pirate is lifted up by an invisible force (spoiler: it's the captain) and slapped. Now the captain's visible again and orders him to return to the Rising Howl, their ship that is currently docked until the river rises high enough to let them sail. Spleenifer grabs another duck from the flock (now called Prongle), while still restraining the original duck (now named T'Pam) in her sturdy arms. She manages to coax them into pecking at each other like they're kissing.

Norm dashes over to where the sailors were fighting and is nearly overpowered by the stench of alcohol. He pulls out a match lights it to see just how much of a drunken cloud the sailors left behind. Lucky adds a little pizzazz to the situation with a little bit of flammable luck, and the cloud ignites in an impressive cloud of flame in the air that leads in the direction of the fleeing sailors. Jay leaps in front of the two kissing sailors to shield their love from the explosion.

Once things calm down (always only briefly in this town), the party swings by the general store for some pickaxes for their upcoming mining expedition. Not wanting T'Pam and Prongle to feel left out, Spleenifer fashions some miniature pickaxes out of twigs to give to the ducks. Lucky snags a caterpillar cocoon (foreshadowed magical purposes!) on the way to contact the lizardfolk to borrow their house.

At the Meyrick estate, Mr. Meyrick greets the party and directs them to a wagon containing a tied-up sleeping giantess (technically half-giantess, but still LORGE). Once their "hostage" is safely aboard the house, the party contemplates what to do.

"I've never done kidnapping before," asks Lucky "but is it reasonable to ask for her emancipation?" But that is soon answered once the giantess wakes up. Lucky is able to communicate with her, and learns that the giantess's name is Tina. She's well-spoken and her family loves her a lot. This whole kidnapping thing is a publicity stunt to get some sponsorship deals. The house gallops toward the mine, reaching the entrance after about 20 minutes.

Tina agrees to help the party mine for crystalline amplifiers and takes up a pickaxe along with the rest of the party. Lucky uses the cocoon to transform herself into an umber hulk with a sweet, sweet burrowing speed. But after some time has passed, a group of eight drunken brigands arrives at the mine's entrance to hide out.

Norm puts down his pickaxe and sneaks toward the boisterous brigands to assess the situation. One of the group has a rucksack full of books, while the rest carry sacks of more conventional treasure. As Norm listens in from the shadows, he learns that the treasure comes from their recent break-in of Salem's.

The sound of picks against stone catches the attention of the brigands, who drop their spoils and tread deeper into the tunnels. A massive chunk of crystal has just been unearthed, and it could function as a quality crystalline amplifier if it can be completely excavated. However, that's the time the drunkards show up. One of them makes obscene and probably physiologically incompatible advances at Tina and a fight soon breaks out.

Smites, spells, and sneak attacks smash into the metaphorically-smashed sailors. Lucky's burrowing triggers a small tunnel collapse, and her confusing gaze disorients even more of the sailors. Spleenifer smacks at the base of the crystal to uproot it before the tunnel collapses further, and soon the party emerges victorious.

Mr. Meyrick arrives to collect his daughter just as the last brigands flee into the night. He mentions that the sponsorship deal fell through, though he still brought the promised ransom. Maybe they'll be able to collaborate on another scheduled kidnapping in the future? Who knows!

The party searches through the stuff left behind by the brigands and finds wealth of many types. Material wealth in the form of gold and gems is most obvious here, but there is also informational wealth. Among the books that were stolen from Salem's is a copy of Zaribeth's accounting ledger. As in, the true version that depicts all the shady stuff going on with Zaribeth's businesses.

With that realization, the adventure concludes for the night and everyone advances to level 12. Stay tuned next time for more!

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid

Chapter 3 

Three more weeks. That’s how long you were all stuck in God damn Colter. Tensions ran high as blowhards like Michah started to feel too cooped up, and you had to verbally beat him away more than once. Someone was always with you to help but you dreaded the day he managed to find you on your own. 

Finally, finally, the storm broke and Dutch decided to make a break for it. Last week a group attacked a rival gang for dynamite supplies to rob a train which ended up being a success. They managed to grab some bonds that Hosea promised he could sell quick and get the gang money, something that was desperately needed to buy supplies once off the mountain. 

“Alright, Ms. Grimshaw. Get this place packed up and ready to go! We are finally leaving this mountain!” Dutch cried out one morning. Whooping rang out as people scrambled to gather their few belongings. It wasn’t long before the 5 wagons were packed and ready to go. The 4 covered wagons were filled with people who were injured or healing, so you got stuck in the semi open wagon with Hosea and Arthur. The snow wasn’t falling by this time so it wasn’t too cold. You listened to them talk comfortably with one another and forget you were in the back. Every once in awhile Hosea would ask you a question. His eyes were kind as they turned to give you their full attention. 

Once the wagons passed the snow line, the green valley was in full view below. You had never seen anything like it, Blackwater in the fall couldn’t even come close to this beauty. 

Trees towered above you and reached upwards towards the blue sky, their leaves contrasting against the dark mountains with sprigs of the brightest green. Rivers and lakes could be seen below, and everything was so different from the dead grass you were used to seeing during June back home. Crossing one such stream proved too much for the wagon Arthur was driving, for as soon as it made it over the back left wheel fell off. 

“Ah, shit!” Arthur jumped down as the whole wagon veered back. You tried to grab everything you could from falling but a few bags and canisters still managed to land in the mud. 

“Everything alright back there?” someone called from ahead. 

“I broke the God damned wheel.” Arthur’s tone was serious but you couldn't help but laugh. He glanced up, surprised to see you still in the back. “You hang in there okay, Miss Moore?” 

You nodded and motioned to the bags you were restraining from joining those that had fallen out of the back. “You boys need help with that?” Charles had ran up to offer Hosea a hand at lifting the wagon while Arthur rolled the wheel back into place. Arthur waved his hand at you to stay and the whole wagon lifted suddenly. In no time everything was set in place and ready to go. 

Charles swung himself up to the back to sit with you on one of the crates. Hosea and him started talking about the Native Americans in these parts, the Heartlands, and how they were so mistreated by the government. Your grandfather on your mother’s side had been Native American, but he moved off the reservation when your mother was born and resided in Boston. You had only known him as an infant but your mother was very fond of him. Charles explained his sad story of how he ended up on his own, and it only occurred to you then that you and your family had been so lucky. 

Talk soon turned to where you were headed to make camp. Hosea had been there before and thought it would be suitable. “There’s a livestock town not far from here, called Valentine. Cowboys, outlaws, working girls. Our kind of place.”

Arthur chimed in, “O’Driscolls?”

“Probably them too.”

“Pinktertons?”

At the mention of the large detective agency your father was a part of, you gripped the side of the wagon too hard. A splinter caught your hand and you shook the pain out, but not before you noticed Charles watching you intently. You had flinched massively when Arthur mentioned their name.  

“Let’s hope not,” Hosea answered. It had never occurred to you that that was who the Van der Linde gang was on the run from. You knew the agency was based in Chicago but had a large force down south and must have been called in to see about catching the gang. The man in charge of the Blackwater division was a mean old thing that waltzed around and scared the town to bits. Someone your father, of course, admired greatly. 

The wagons eventually moved through a small forest and came out to a clearing. Hosea called it Horseshoe Overlook. A morning fog hung over the new campsite and gave a glow to the tents that were already set up. You hoped down and walked out to where Abigail was setting up their new home. John had to be carried in, his leg still bandaged and aching. The scars on his face looked better from the weeks of healing in Colter, but Abigail hadn’t let up on him for one moment. Little Jack was running and chasing a butterfly through the grounds, happy and free. Not everyone had the same enthusiasm for the new place. Javier, one of those most loyal to Dutch, was sour at being on the run again. He grumbled in Spanish while hoisting his tent over the standing poles. Ms. Grimshaw pulled you to a few standing barrels and asked you to fill them with water from the stream. 

“The one way down at the bottom of the hill?” you stared incredulously. She looked as though she was about to swing at you so you darted under her pointing arm with two buckets and began the trek. 

All around you were new sights. Bushes, and animals, and trees softly swaying in the breeze. You wished you could draw to try and capture some of the newfound beauty, but art had never come easy. Your hands had been made for great things but holding a pencil was not one of them. 

By the time you had all three water barrels brimming to the top you were hot, sweaty, and the camp was almost entirely set up. Ms. Grimshaw had orders from Dutch to set up a temporary site for you just past Arthur’s wagon and next to a tree. You figured this was so you couldn't run without either passing Arthur, or jumping headfirst off of the cliff. Neither, surprisingly, seemed like viable options. 

Dutch was talking with Arthur and Hosea when he started walking back towards the center of camp. “Now, everyone put down your tools for a moment. Come on gather round, quickly now. I know that things have been tough but we are safe now, and we are far too poor. So it is time for everyone to get to work. It is time for everyone to earn their keep!”  

The gang moved off back to whatever they had planned after the speech when Dutch motioned to you. He and Hosea were in his tent with Molly O’Shea. “Now, Ms. Moore, what can I expect from you?”

Three sets of eyes watched you think of something to say. Clearly he had set this up so that Abigail couldn't sweep in and save you. You tried to come up with some ways to make money. You had no clothes besides those on your back, no discernible skills besides pickpocketing and singing, and a whole camp of people to prove yourself to. 

“Well, I - I can sing real well, and pickpocket the best of them. I’m a fast learner and decent with a bow, I learned to hunt from up high. I promise that I can pull my weight and hold my own here, I just need to be given a chance.”

You must have sounded desperate because Molly spoke up. “Moore? That’s an Irish last name. She’s good to stay with me.”

Hosea and Dutch were very surprised by her contribution but agreed that you could stay on a trial period. You left with renewed confidence, and set off to see about a horse. If you could head into town and sell the few items you had in your pockets you could pick up a decent bow. Bows meant hunting, and there was your contributions all in place. 

A group was planning on heading into Valentine to check it out and you were pleased to see Mary-Beth was among them. Abigail decided to stay with John and Jack but you promised to grab some herbs for her while you were out. The wagon kicked into motion and rolled up the hill to meet the town of Valentine.

Overall, it was not a great place. Blackwater was larger, and at least had some paved roads. The mud on the main road got stuck everywhere and somehow it always seemed wet. The people were friendly enough and bought your cover story about why the gang was in the area. 

The bell in the general store dinged quietly when you pushed the door open. A man was hunched over the catalogue and in deep conversation with the owner so you decided to browse before making any purchases. All the same goods as your general store back home greeted you, but there was no happy memory associated with being in that place. Finally the shopkeeper called you over and you handed him the list of what you needed. Canned fruits and vegetables that could last, dried meats for the hunters when they headed out of camp, treats and food for the horses, herbs for Abigail, and some drinks for sitting around the campfire. 

“Of course. I can gather these for you. Is that your wagon out front? I’ll load them onto it for you while you shop around town.”

You smiled and thanked the man. The bell above the door dinged again and Mary-Beth walked in to greet you. “Oh, Y/N, let’s get you set up with some new clothes. Those old things haven’t lasted well through our travels and I would love to see you in something blue. I would say green, but thats Molly’s color and she’s hotter than a fire poker when someone else wears it.”

“Did I tell you she’s the reason I get to stay? When Dutch and Hosea asked what I could contribute I couldn’t think of one darn thing, but because my surname sounds vaguely Irish she laid down the law that I must stay.”

Mary-Beth looked at you with wide eyes. “Most days she won’t even share the same air as these folks. You must have really done something to her, YN!”

She held a stunning blue cloth up against your torso. “This. I am adding this to our pile before he notices so we can make you a new dress. Or shirt, it would look keen tucked into your pants now.” Mary-Beth snagged some lace for herself and rushed out the front door, smiling at the attendant as she passed him on her way out. 

Discussing your contribution reminded you that you needed to see the gunsmith before the wagon left for the day. Walking back to camp through the mud sounded like a nightmare. 

Arthur was in the gun shop trying out a new long range rifle. He was holding it up in the air while the attendant repositioned his shoulders. “Now sir, you should know that this one has quiet the kick. Be careful and don’t hold on too tight or your shoulder will go right out.” Arthur nodded and placed the gun down on the counter. You browsed the bows on the opposite wall and picked a sturdy one out. It was tall, almost to your shoulder height, but you knew the power it held in its limbs. Testing it out proved you right, and you asked the shopkeep how much it was. 

Your jaw dropped at the total and you quickly put it back, embarrassed you had even touched it. Arthur chuckled lightly before reaching over you and plucked it back out of the case. 

“Mr. Morgan, please, you know I can’t afford that.” He looked back over at you and said, “Way I see it this is for the camp. You know how to hunt, we need meat, camp only gets fed if meat comes in. Therefore, you ain’t paying for this one.”

A flush of embarrassment covered your face and neck and you muttered a thank you to Arthur before rushing out the door. Everything has been checked off your list and you headed back to the wagon, but before you reach it you heard a sucking sound and your left boot flew off your foot. Hopping over to a post by the saloon you desperately searched for your boot. The mud smelled, and you scrunched up your nose while you tried to yank and pull but to no luck. 

Tilly Jackson was your hero this time. She laughed so hard watching you stumble about she almost didn't make it to the middle of the street from falling over sideways. You watched from your seat in front of the saloon, one foot with a boot and one with only a sock. After a few moments of digging and pulling she succeeded. You whooped with her and quickly laced up your boot. 

“I can’t believe this smell! Tilly what awful things does Valentine do to have this affliction sit over the town?”

“Well, Y/N, this here town doesn't have the luxury of being situated by a lake like Blackwater. I reckon the breeze came in and swept away everything that didn’t want to stick around.”

As you contemplated that and watched the wagon being loaded up to head back to camp, the sadness that sat in your heart shocked you. After over a month on the road you began to miss Blackwater and the comfort of being home. It was a strange thing knowing that you were happier now. Your mother and father and friends were all back in that city, going day to day about their normal lives. You wondered if they missed you. But this was your decision and you knew it was for the best. 

You chuckle back at Tilly. “Well, I guess that breeze decided to take me too then.”

[argyle-s]

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME CHAPTER 13/38

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

Kara deals with the aftermath of Cat's Supergirl interview.

Thanks to @ifourmindbeso for her great work as a beta. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Chapter 13 – Sticky Buns, Hope, and a Little Bit of Cheating

“And a fourth Orange sticky bun for my favorite alien,” the Sally said as she sat Kara’s order down in front of her.

“You sure I haven’t been replaced by Supergirl, Sally?” Kara asked.

“Nah, sweetie.  You’re a better tipper,” the Sally replied as she walked away.

Kara grinned.

“Hey,” Alex said as she came around the bar, and sat down at Kara’s table.  “Are you okay?  I tried calling you a bunch of times last night.”

“Oh,” Kara said.  “Sorry, I must have forgotten to turn the ringer back on.”  She reached into her purse, and pulled out her phone, and turning the ringer back on.  “Okay, for the record, forty-seven isn’t ‘a bunch’, it’s ‘I need to get a date before my sister gets a restraining order’.”

“Funny,” Alex said.  “Seriously-”

“Hey, ladies,” James said, cutting Alex off.

Kara looked up from her phone and gave him a smile.  “Hey, James,” she said.  “You remember Alex, from the other night?”

“I do,” James said.  “How’s the covert alien-hunting business?”

“Not as covert as we’d like, apparently,” Alex replied, turning to give Kara a glare.

Kara held up her hands.  “Hey, I have already had a very sternly-worded discussion with my blabbermouth cousin.”

“Sorry,” James said.  “I forgot that was still a sore point.”

“It’s okay,” Kara said.  “You might want to tread lightly at the office today.”

“Oh?” James asked.  “You know something?”

“Cat had her big interview last night,” Kara said.  “She’s going to be writing today.”

“You say that like it’s bad,” James said.

“People have been known to schedule vacations around the features Cat writes every year.”

“Oh,” James said.  “I’ll take your advice to heart.”

“You might also want to start laying out a special issue template for the magazine.  I have a feeling Cat’s going to want to go to press early this month.”

“You know, it’s a little scary how well you know her,” James said.

Kara shrugged, and gave a perfect imitation of Cat’s dismissive wave, earning her a chuckle as James headed for the door.

“Okay, I know it’s not your thing, but you know he is into you, right?” Alex said.

Kara rolled her eyes.  “He thinks he’s into me,” she said.  “It’s actually pretty convincing, right up until he starts talking about Clark.”

Both of Alex’s eyebrows made a beeline for her hair.  “Really?”

“Really,” Kara said.

Alex glared.  “That’s kinda sad.”

“It would be if I were interested in him, but you know, I’m just over here, being really super gay.”

“In a shocker of a news item today, Cat Grant, CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media, is reporting that Supergirl and Superman, are in fact, related.”

Alex turned around, looking at the TV, where a picture of Kara and Clark, both in full costume, were shown side by side.  Kara had just made it to a three count when Alex turned back around.

“What did you do?” she asked.

Kara smiled and took a bite of her sticky bun.

“Ah, interesting choice,” Winn said, “mentioning that in an interview.”

Kara shrugged as she sat down behind her desk.  “Not so much interesting, as strategic.  It was bound to get out sooner or later,” she said.  “This way, I can control the timing, the narrative, and with a little luck, the fallout.”

“Fallout is what I’m worried about,” Winn said.  “Your cousin has a *lot* of enemies.”

“Keira!” Cat called from her office, and Kara jumped slightly, turning to look through the glass.

“She’s here?” Kara said, reaching for Cat’s latte.

“Apparently,” Winn replied.

Kara did a quick check to make sure no one was looking before she zapped Cat’s latte with her heat vision, then stood up, grabbing her note pad and tablet, then rushing into Cat’s office.

“Morning, Ms. Grant,” she said.  “You’re in early.”

“I am,” Cat said as she looked around for a pair of glasses.

“On your head, Ms. Grant,” Kara said.

“Oh,” Cat replied, reaching up and pulling the glasses down.  “Thank you.”

Kara sat the latte on the desk, and Cat picked it up, taking a sip, and giving a small, appreciative moan.

“Congratulations,” Kara said, and Cat looked up at her.

“On?”

“You scooped the Daily Planet,” she said.

Cat sighed.  “Yes,” she said.  “I did.”

Kara frowned, because Cat didn’t seem excited and she didn’t understand why.  She’d given Cat far, far more to work with this time around.  The woman should be bouncing off the walls.

“Keira.”

“Yes, Ms. Grant?”

“Send out an email to the department heads.  We’re going to press in six days with a special issue of the Monthly.  I want a content meeting in two hours, where I will be handing out assignments.  We’re going to pull content from online, social, and the Trib.  I want anything we have on the refugees, natural disasters, and so on.  Also, get Bunny Watson to pull everything we have from our archives and the Daily Planet.  I want a list of every alien Superman, or any other superhero, has ever fought.  The entire issue is going to be focused on Supergirl.  Once the content meeting is done, I’m going to be busy writing the feature.  While I’m doing that, I need you to plan a launch Gala for the issue for one week from today.”

“Okay, Ms. Grant,” Kara said, more than a little surprised.  In the original time line, Cat had pushed the issue out in two days, with a single story on Supergirl.  “I can do that.”

“Of course you can,” Cat said.  “That’s why I pay you a soon to be increasing in size paycheck.”

Kara smiled.  “Of course.”

“And Kara, something tasteful.  I don’t want waitresses running around dressed in Supergirl outfits.  And see if we can get a more refined guest list.  Let’s go for Senators and Congressmen.  See if you can get anyone who’s been dealing with the Syrian Refugee Crisis.  If you think they would attend, extend invitations to Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince and anyone they want to bring along from their foundations.  Also, anyone else you think it would be appropriate to invite.”

“Yes, Ms. Grant.”

“Oh, and Keira.”

“Yes?”

“Start looking for someone to fill your position,” Cat said.

“Ms. Grant?” Kara said, unable to hide the hurt and the panic in her voice.

“Well, I am going to need an assistant Keira.  I can’t schedule my own travel and manage my own schedule while I’m running the company and I think it’s time we started looking at taking better advantage of your abilities.”

“Um...  I’ll make some calls,” Kara said, feeling more than a little shocked.  She’d expected some changes in her relationship with Cat, but nothing so drastic, and nothing so quick.

“Good.  Now, get on with it, Keira.  Chop Chop.”

Kara nodded and turned around, heading back to her desk to make the arrangements, before she headed off to the DEO for the meeting she had scheduled with J’onn.

“Are you out of your Kryptonian mind?” J’onn asked as he, Kara and Alex walked down the corridor to the command center.  “What the hell were you thinking, giving an interview to Cat Grant?”

“It worked well the first time,” Kara said.

“Really?  What’s next?  A book deal?  A reality show?  Keeping up with the Kryptonians?”  He shook his head, and stormed off, marking up on the dais to glare at the monitors as if they had personally offended him.

“He seems upset,” Kara said.

“Hard to tell with him,” Alex replied.  “Seriously though, why give the interview?”

Kara looked at Alex, “It’s hard to explain when you haven’t seen the entire interview yet.  The ‘I’m Superman’s cousin’, thing was mostly to draw out an enemy I need to deal with.  The rest of the interview is more focused on my long-term agenda, which is getting the Alien Amnesty Act pushed through.”

“Enemy?” Alex asked

Kara nodded.  She’d shown Alex, J’onn and Susan a few of the highlights from her time as Supergirl in the original timeline, but she hadn’t given them anywhere near all the details, and Reactron was a fairly minor footnote.

“Sir, ma’am’s, we have a Code Grey,” Susan announced.  “Coming from the NCH.  Looks like a multiple car collision.”

Kara didn’t wait to hear the rest.  She already knew how this went.  She turned and used a bit of super-speed to get to the surface, then shot into the air.  Less than two minutes later, she was descending towards the pile up, trying to recall the details of the incident.  A quick scan with her x-ray vision confirmed what she remembered.  The bus driver was pinned, and there was a downed electrical line blocking the rescue.  A quick blast of her heat vision severed the power line from the pole as she dropped down straight into the bus.

“I’m stuck,” the driver said.

“It’s okay.  I’ve got you,” she said as she approached the driver.  She x-rayed the woman’s pinned legs and spotted a minor tear in the femoral artery.  It was a slow leak, but too much jostling might tear it wide open.  She knelt down, and very carefully bent the steering column up, then lifted the driver and floated them both out of the bus and down next to a pair of paramedics with a waiting gurney.

“She’s got a tear in the right femoral,” Kara said.  “Very minor bleed, but you need to tourniquet and get her into surgery to repair it before it widens.”

The paramedic nodded as the EMT started strapping the driver down.  Kara turned and stepped away from them as Reactron dropped out of the sky.

“Don’t do this here,” she shouted.  “These people are innocent.”

“I don’t care,” he said.  “Not as long as Superman bleeds.”  He raised his arm and fired off a blast of energy which shot towards her, and fizzled out against her anti-kryptonite shield, which was currently running in a much broader spectrum than normal.

“If you were looking for a soft target,” Kara said, “you picked the wrong girl.”  She shot across the distance between them, reaching under her cape as she moved, and pulling out the rolled-up sheet of lead she’d brought along with her that morning.  When she reached him, she slapped the sheet over the Demon Core of the suit, and pulled it free, carefully wrapping the entire core in lead as she pulled it loose.  Reactron stumbled back, looking down in shock.

Kara switched the core to her left hand and tapped her ear piece.  “Hey, I need a nuclear containment team out here, ASAP.”

Kara reached out and grabbed Reactron before he could run away or do much of anything.

“What the hell is going on out there?” J’onn asked.

“I’ve got a subcritical mass of plutonium in my left hand, and a mentally disturbed victim of radiation poisoning in my right.  Would you please just send a containment team?”

Kara ran from the elevator to Cat’s office as fast as she could without arousing suspicion.  She was beyond annoyed because J’onn had taken his own sweet time getting the hazmat team out to collect the demon core.  Then there had been a jurisdictional dispute between the ‘FBI’ and NCPD over who got custody of the suit.  Kara hadn’t stuck around for that.  Once she’d finished washing her hands and got a clean read off the Geiger counter, she’d left the DEO and NCPD arguing and rushed back to her apartment, grabbed the research Konex had put together for her on Reactron, including a face shot that had been culled from social media of his face after Kara had unmasked him, and a facial recognition software comparison between the social media shot and a picture of Ben Krull before the terrorist attack at Bakerline Nuclear Power Station.  Then she’d flown back to CatCo.

Except, she was five minutes late getting to the content meeting.

“Nice of you to join us, Keira,” Cat said as she came through the door.

“Sorry,” she said, edging around Kelly and James.  “Sorry.  I was just... well... um...”

“Please, Keira, spit it out already.  Why have you held up a very important meeting by showing up late?”

“Reactron,” Kara said.  “Supergirl just fought him on the 935 near the Nation’s Bay exit.”

“Supergirl fought Reactron?” James asked.

“Oh, do keep up, Olsen,” Cat said, “we reported that thirty minutes ago.”

“Right,” Kara said.  “anyway, Reactron…  That’s a kind of a stupid name.  Who came up with it?”

James cleared his throat.

Kara turned around to look at him.  “Really?”

James nodded.

“I know a guy,” Kara said, reaching up and patting him lightly on the shoulder.  “I’m pretty sure he can get you into his support group.”  She turned back around and had to fight not to smile when she noticed the look of shocked pride on Cat’s face.  “Anyway, someone got a shot of his face.  I have a friend who’s good with facial recognition, so I emailed it over, and my friend got a hit.”  She held out the stack of papers she’d been holding.  “His name is Ben Krull.  He was an engineer at Bakerline Nuclear Power Station.  He went missing and was presumed dead after the terrorist attack five years ago.  His wife died in the attack from radiation poisoning.  I was just going to outline something, but once I got started, it seemed easier to just write out a full article.  I included citations for how radiation exposure can lead to shifts in personality, neurological disorders, and other problems going all the way back to the ‘Demon Core’ accidents during the Manhattan Project.”

Cat reached out and took the papers from Kara, without ever looking away from her face.  “You wrote an article?”

Kara nodded.  “Yes.”

Cat looked down and scanned over the pages while everyone else in the room seemed to hold their collective breath.  “This is excellent work, Kiera.  In fact, I think it bought you five minutes,” she said, turning and handing the papers over to the lead Content Editor for CatCo online.  “I want this online within two hours.  Pull something from the archives on Bakerline, and get it updated and reposted, with a ‘since the attack’ section.”

Cat turned back to address the room as a whole.  “Our girl just beat a villain Superman couldn’t take down, which makes this issue even more important, so it’s get started...”

Cat Grant was not a woman unaware of her issues.  The Lexapro she took every twelve hours, with much more clockwork-like regularity since Kara had come into her life, was proof of that.  She was older than she wanted to admit to, she was bitter, she was lonely, she was more than a little vindictive.  All these things were facts of life.  But the one thing Cat hated about herself, the one thing she considered a failure, aside from Adam, was that she was disillusioned.

It wasn’t her fault.  Not really.  After all, she had no one to have faith in.  Not the father she had loved so dearly, who had, one quiet Sunday morning, pressed a gun against his temple and abandoned her.  Not the mother who had never been kind, or caring, or warm, or affectionate when Cat had desperately needed those things.  Not the boss who had leered at her and let her do nothing but write for the gossip column, then belittled her for being good at it.  Not the friend who had snatched away the job she’d dreamed of.  Not the boyfriend who’d snatched away her first son.  Not the husband who she’d caught with the Nanny.  Certainly not the Superhero who rescued pretty reporters.

Superman, more than any of the others, had broken her.  Cat didn’t get Superman.  Cat got grabbed walking home one night.  Cat got a knife in the stomach, a skull fracture, six broken ribs and a broken arm.  Cat got a fourteen-block walk in the rain, with a perforated intestine, and blood running down her stomach.  Cat got thirteen hours in surgery, and four weeks in intensive care battling sepsis.  Cat got to sit in her hospital room, protected by private security, because the article on human trafficking she wrote from her hospital bed had implicated more than thirty police officers, a Congressman, and the National City Deputy Mayor, plus mobsters in National City, Metropolis, Gotham and Hub City.  Cat Grant got post-traumatic stress and an anxiety disorder that required twice daily Lexapro.  And Cat Grant got to watch Lois Lane accept a Pulitzer for the first story written about Superman’s sudden appearance, plucking a crashing plane out of the sky.  Superman, the hero who brought so many people hope, had always somehow managed to be a symbol to Cat of her own failure to measure up.

Supergirl though, felt different.  Right from the start, there had been something about her, something Cat couldn’t quite place, that made her feel connected.  She tried to play it off in her own mind as her desire to save the Tribune, as the economic benefit the girl could bring to CatCo, but in her own, private thoughts, she’d known that was bullshit right from the start.  There was something different about this girl.  Something that spoke to Cat on a level Superman never had.

At first, she thought it was the costume, or rather, the lack of one.  When Superman first appeared, he’d been decked out in full costume, ‘S’ blazing and cape flapping.  Yes, the plane had been a crisis, but it was clearly something Superman had been planning.  Not so with Supergirl.  Her first save had been in street clothes, which suggested a certain lack of planning.  She hadn’t saved the plane to make a statement or to announce her arrival.  She hadn’t stepped out at a moment of her choosing.  She’d seen a crisis and abandoned the safety and security of her own anonymity, risked exposure of her identity, to help.  The costume came after, because now people were looking up, watching for her.  There was an honestly about it that spoke to the girl’s nature and her need to help.

Now, Cat also wondered if she hadn’t recognized Kara in some way in the photo or video.  Wondered if the connection she’d felt was the affection she hadn’t quite been able to keep at bay over the last year.  Kara was one of the few people left in her life who challenged her, who provoked her.  Oh, others tried.  Professional rivals, board members who thought they were smarter than they actually were.  Cat had them all cowed.  Honestly, Lois and Kara were probably the only people left in Cat’s life who stood up to her.

What she couldn’t quite understand though, what honestly threw her for a loop with all of this, was the way Kara was basically handing her Supergirl on a silver platter.  At first, she’d just thought Kara was being her usual extraordinary self.  Until she’d seen the pictures.  Oh, sure, most people wouldn’t be able to tell.  She had to admit to herself, she’d been fooled by a similar disguise with Clark and Superman for thirteen years or so, but this was Kara, and Cat would know those eyes anywhere.

She hadn’t been sure, not at first.  Oh, close to sure.  Sure enough that if she pulled Kara’s employee ID photo and ran facial recognition against one of the Supergirl photos she’d get a match good enough to clear legal and publish, not that she would.  Still, she’d sent Bunny Watson out to research it, to confirm it.  She’d gotten the facial recognition match and the documentation and then she’d destroyed it, because this was Kara.  Kara who’d given her the photos.  Kara who’d recommended Bunny.  Kara who’d agreed to do the interview.

Kara who’d been Carter’s age when she watched her family, her home, her culture and her entire world burn, right before her eyes.  Kara who’d been thirteen years old and told she had to live, not for herself, but to protect her cousin, only to have even that taken from her.  Kara who smiled every day and who texted her links to kitten videos she’d never admit to laughing at.  Kara who brought her coffee and refilled her M&M’s and always remembered to make sure there was a cheeseburger on her salad when there was a board meeting.

Kara who was sunshine and light and happiness that was infectious, only sometimes it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  Kara who fought to save people’s jobs when they’d made honest mistakes, but who would show up in the middle of the day with a copy of a harassment complaint and a prepared termination packet from legal for the offender.  Kara who just smiled and said “Yes, Ms. Grant” every time Cat fired her and just showed up the next day anyway.  Kara who was surrounded by people, who loved people and thrived on attention and was always lonely, even in the middle of a crowd.

The interview had broken Cat’s heart, right from the first question.  The way Kara had talked about the friend who’d introduced her to the rather excellent Scotch.  Cat could see the pain there, the sense that it was a personal failure.  She’d seen the look in the mirror often enough.  But it just went on and on.  Things beyond her control that she blamed herself for.

It wasn’t fair.  Cat wanted to stomp her feet in shout in rage about how unfair it was that so much had been placed on Kara’s shoulders.  No one should feel the way she did, no one should have to shoulder the weight Kara did.  She wanted to tell the girl she was worthwhile, that anyone would be proud of the person she’d become, because it was true.  Even before she’d caught that plane, before she’d put on the ‘S’, Kara Danvers was extraordinary.

But she couldn’t.  Not without admitting what she knew, and that was a line she wasn’t ready to cross.  Not yet.  But that didn’t mean she was powerless.  Kara had told Cat what she wanted, what her ultimate goal was.  And Cat was Cat Grant, CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media.  A woman who had been dubbed ‘The Queen of All Media’ for good reason.  She had power at her fingertips.  Power to shape the way people thought.  Power to change the narrative.

Power to help.

Cat opened Word, and for the first time in the longest time, the constant buzzing of her anxiety was quiet.  There were no imagined noises, no demands for extracts or juices to help her focus.  Because for the first time in a very long time, the writing wasn’t about her, it was more important than that.  It was about helping, about changing the world for the better.  It was the kind of story she dreamed about writing when she was Perry White’s assistant.

It was a story about hope.

Planning a party on short notice was a skill Kara had mastered so long ago she could almost do it in her sleep.  She picked a different venue, this time.  One with more security.  The Presidential Ballroom at the Rosewood was the venue Senators and Presidents chose when they came to National City, so she booked it, hoping the familiarity would inspire better attendance.  Once she had that squared away, she went ahead and started working on hiring caterers who were already cleared for sensitive events where government officials might be making an appearance.  That had been the easy part.  The hard part was deciding on decorations, catering attire, and the menu.

When Cat had given her the assignment, she’d been more than a little relieved that she didn’t have to spend the evening watching waitresses parade around with her House Coat of Arms on their chest.  She’d planned on having them in shirts, bow ties and vests.  It was simple yet formal enough that they would blend into the background.  But then she’d sat through the content meeting.  She’d listened as Cat had handed out content assignments.  There would be articles on the various aliens Superman had fought over the years, as well as a piece on Superman’s status as a citizen, comparing it to the legal limbo other aliens, including Supergirl, existed in.  There would be articles on refugee crises, both human and alien.  There would be articles on immigration, and the legal status of undocumented people.  There would be feature focusing on President Marsdin’s push for immigration reform, and an analysis of whether or not the policy was worded in such a way that it included people of a non-terrestrial origin.

Which left Kara a bit indecisive.  This was moving events up in the timeline by almost a year.  Most of the discussion of this type had happened after Myriad, after J’onn J’onzz had revealed himself.  She was okay with that, but she was afraid that without seeing J’onn out there, fighting beside her, just the articles might not be enough.  Which left her wondering how far to push.

When she’d had Konex rebuilt, one of the things she’d done was have him go through human food stuffs and analyze them to see when foods could be used to recreate something resembling Kryptonian Cuisine.  There were certain flavors that couldn’t be recreated of course, but she had about three hundred recipes that Konex had modified to produce good approximations of Kryptonian food.  It had been a private, guilty little pleasure.  Something she enjoyed when she headed out to Sanctuary.  But now she was wondering if she should share this part of her home.  If she should select various finger food recipes and send them over to the caterers.  She also wondered about sending over service guild robes.

Oddly enough, this didn’t feel like a decision she should make on her own, so she brought up her IM client, and double clicked on Clark’s contact.

Kara:  Here there, baby cousin.

The three little dots indicating Clark was typing appeared.  Then disappeared.  Then appeared again.  This happened three more times before Clark’s message finally came through.

Clark: You caught Reactron?

Kara smiled as she typed out her answer.

Kara:  Guess it was a job for Supergirl.

Clark:  Yeah.  I’m impressed, Kara.  Really.

Kara: Impressed enough to do me a favor?

Clark:  Sure.

Kara:  Never ever let James name another supervillain.

Clark:  Oh, come on.  Reactron isn’t that bad.

Kara:  What about Glow-man?  Amazo?  Kryptonoid?

Clark:  Okay, so, some of the names are a little odd.

Kara:  Clark, the man is a menace.  Seriously, no more names from James Olsen.

Clark:  I feel like you and Lois are ganging up on me.

Kara:  Well, tell me Lois has a younger, hotter sister, and maybe I’ll be too busy to gang up on you.

Clark:  Well, she does have a sister, and Lucy is younger than Lois, but I wouldn’t say hotter.

Kara:  That is because you are both very loyal, and completely smitten, but I just followed a link from Lois’s facebook.  I’m looking at Lucy right now.  You have been holding out on me, baby cousin.

Clark:  Hey!  If you want to talk about who’s been holding out on who, I had to find out from James that you like women.  What is up with that?

Kara let out a laugh.

Kara:  Maybe if you’d visit more often, you’d get more gossip.

Clark:  Okay, guilty as charged.

Kara:  Thanksgiving?

Clark:  I’d like that.  And Lois says “as long as she’s not expected to do dishes.”

Kara:  Clark Kent, do you make that woman clean up after you?

Clark:  Um... no?

Kara:  Are you asking me, or telling me?

Clark:  Okay, there may have been one or two incidents in the last month where supervillains attacked the city during dinner, and she had to do the dishes.

Kara:  Uh huh.

Clark:  I’m in trouble, aren’t I?

Kara:  That depends...

Clark:  I’m almost afraid to ask, but what does it depend on?

Kara:  On whether or not Diana remembers to check her text messages today.

Clark:  Diana always checks her messages.

Kara:  Then, baby cousin, I’d say you should start running now.

Clark:  *sigh*

Clark:  I see how it is.

Kara:  Darn right!  Seriously though, I have a question, and I feel like this is a decision we both should make.

Clark:  Okay.  What’s up?

Kara:  You know I gave an interview to Cat, right?

Clark:  Yeah.  BTW, Lois says “What’s the big idea, short stuff?”

Kara:  Tell Lois I’m mad because she’s been hiding her insanely hot young sister from me.

Clark:  Kara, Lucy was kind of seeing someone up until recently.  A guy someone.

Kara:  Probably for the best.  Not sure I’d want Sam Lane as a father-in-law anyway.

Clark:  Why do you think I haven’t proposed to Lois? ;)

Kara:  Fear.

Kara:  That woman scares you.

Clark:  Okay, true, but Sam Lane isn’t exactly helpful.

Clark:  Anyway, what’s the interview have to do with this decision you want help with?

Kara:  Okay, this is a Cousin-to-Cousin and Cousin’s Girlfriend discussion.

Kara:  No spreading this around the Daily Planet for corporate espionage purposes.

Clark:  Right.

Kara:  Cat’s doing a Supergirl issue of the monthly.  The whole issue is focused on the interview and what I talked to her about.

Clark:  That must have been quite the interview.

Clark:  You sure it was a good idea?

Kara:  Yeah.  Look, I know you probably won’t understand this, but I trust Cat the way you trust Lois.

Clark:  Um…  Kara, is there something you want to tell me?

Kara reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Kara:  That’s not what I meant, Clark.

Kara:  I mean, sure, Cat’s freaking Gorgeous, and sure, I’d like to think she considers me a bit more than an employee, but come on.

Kara:  What would Cat freaking Grant want with me?

System Message:  Lois has joined the chat.

Lois:  Short stuff, have you looked in a mirror lately?

Kara:  Hey, Lois.  And yes, I have, but seriously, Cat can have anyone she wants.  We’re friends.  At least, I’d like to think we are.  You know how Cat is.

Lois:  Yeah, I do, kiddo.  Being her friend is like trying to hug a porcupine.  You can do it, but if you’re not careful, there will be bloodshed.

Kara:  Just for that, I’m inviting her to Thanksgiving Dinner.

Lois:  You wouldn’t dare!

Kara:  I would.  She’d just never take me up on it :P

Lois:  True.

Kara:  Anyway, back to the question at hand.  She’s got me planning a launch party for the Supergirl issue.

Lois:  I still say you should have given that interview to me.

Clark:  Lois.

Lois:  What?

Kara:  What Clark is too polite to say is, you already have a Kryptonian.  Let Cat have this one.

Lois:  Maybe I want both of you.

Lois:  Wait, that did not come out right.

Lois:  Okay, I’m slightly embarrassed, but it was totally worth it for the look on Clark’s face.

Kara:  We’re sorry, the party you are trying to reach is currently busy trying to find a telepath to scour her brain.

Kara:  Seriously, not cool Lois.

Lois:  I’m sorry.  It sounded a lot less suggestive in my head.

Clark:  She has that problem a lot.

Lois:  Shut up, you.

Clark:  Sorry, love.  Journalists are supposed to tell the truth.

Lois:  Yeah, well, I hope some journalists like sleeping on the couch.

Kara:  GUYS!

Lois:  Sorry, Short Stuff.

Clark: Sorry.

Kara:  Anyone, Gala, next Friday night.  Launching Supergirl issue.

Clark:  Right.

Kara:  I just feel like I should ask, because it’s your culture too, Clark.  Would it be okay with you if I gave the caterers some Kryptonian Recipes that have been adapted to use Earth ingredients?  Also, I was thinking of maybe having the wait staff dressed in Service Guild robes.

There was a long pause before Clark answered.  So much so she was worried he’d be offended by the suggestion.

Clark:  Kara, you’re probably a lot better qualified to determine what is an appropriate way to share our culture.  You have actually lived it.

Clark:  My concern would be that it might tip Cat off to who you are.

Clark:  Cat Grant is probably one of the smartest people I know, and I say that with you fully aware of the company I keep on a regular basis.

Clark:  You need to be extremely careful with her.

Kara:  Clark, trust me when I say I know Cat better than you.  I know how smart she is.  I also know that she can help me, help all of us, make the world a better place.

Kara:  No offense, Lois, but Cat is probably the single biggest force in media right now.

Lois:  No offense taken, Short Stuff.  I made my choices, and I’m happy with how they turned out.  I know Perry White’s chair is about as far as I’ll ever go, and I’m good with that.

Kara:  You could go further than that, Lois.

Kara:  A lot further.

Kara:  You’d just have to be willing to leave Metropolis to do it.

Lois:  And that’s the issue.  I’m not, because Clark’s not.

Clark:  Besides, National City’s already got the Superhero thing covered.

Kara:  Yeah, well, if you ever need help with Rubberbandotron or something, you know who to call.

Lois:  Is it too late to adopt her?

Clark:  A little.

Clark:  Seriously, Kara, the decision is yours.  If you can find a way to share our culture that you think is safe and respectful, I’d really love that.

Kara:  Thanks, Clark.

Kara:  Oh, BTW, tell Perry White you two both need to be in National City next Friday.

Clark:  Okay...

Clark:  Why?

Kara:  Lois, you want to tell him?

Lois:  She’s inviting us to her coming out party, Smallville.

Clark:  OH!

Kara:  Love you both.  See you soon.

Clark:  Love you too, Kara.

Lois:  Love you, Short Stuff.  Watch out for hairballs.

[unchain-the-escapist]

Jurassic Meteor [Part 14]

““You fucking bitch! You will not lay a hand on my raptors!”

Seeing as Ms. Turunen didn’t even flinch, the brunette instead straightened her back and faced Merel with determination plastered all over her face.

“You're gonna watch a news story tomorrow about how you all saved lives. No, better yet, how your animals saved lives.””

Meteor (Merel/Charlotte/Floor) (Romantic pairing)

Words: 816

Other parts (x)

The truck had barely pulled to a stop before Merel was out of it, boots pounding hard against the pebbles. They were back at the raptor enclosure, a tent set up and people running in and out of it. Vans, motorcycles, and large quantities of weapons stood around it. It was late evening and strong lights lit up the enclosure and tent as the darkness outside of their glow only grew.

“What’s going on?” Charlotte asked quietly as she exited, closely followed by Floor.

“I don’t know…”

If Otto had been honest over the walkie-talkie, then this was a whole new, untested protocol. Floor hated those and the unpredictability of them always rubbed her the wrong way. But the move with the raptors was desperate, extremely dangerous even. They had just started to obey Merel fully, Floor hadn’t even gotten the report of how they had responded to today’s exercise.

“Ms. Turunen must be desperate to even think about pulling this off.”

Slamming the truck door shut, Charlotte and Floor followed Merel to the tent, soon hearing shouts and curses coming from the blonde’s mouth. Entering the tent, the pair came face to face with two guards restraining Merel as she kicked and screamed at the people surrounding a huge table at the middle of the tent.

Forcefully holding herself back from interfering, Floor instead clenched her fists as she tried to calm her protective mode. Both her and Charlotte had just gotten Merel back and she would not let her go ever again.

While Merel had fallen into the pool earlier, Floor had felt how the ground had opened up from underneath her and taken her whole chest with it. She had thought that Merel had died, just thinking about it now making Floor’s insides breaking.  

“You fucking bitch! You will not lay a hand on my raptors!”

Seeing as Ms. Turunen didn’t even flinch, the brunette instead straightened her back and faced Merel with determination plastered all over her face.

“You're gonna watch a news story tomorrow about how you all saved lives. No, better yet, how your animals saved lives.”

This whole thing was insane. She wanted to release four deadly predators into the park, having them roam free in the park without restriction. There were so many things that could potentially go wrong that Floor didn’t even know where to start.

And she didn’t even want to imagine what Merel must be feeling right now. She loved those raptors like they were her own children. Or that’s what her rapports seem to convey. They were always written with such detail and in depth.

”They've never been out of containment. It's crazy!” Merel kept shouting, the guard’s grips only getting tighter.

“This is happening! With or without you!”

It got uncomfortably quiet in the tent, Floor just now realizing how Otto was standing in the back, looking helpless.

“Otto has told me about a game called hide-and-seek that you’ve been doing with the raptors. My commanders have conducted a plan of releasing the raptors and let them hunt down the Indominus for us. They will herd the dinosaur into a kill zone and then we give it everything that we got!”

“You’ll never be able to pull it off!”

“And that’s why we need you.” Ms. Turunen finished with, her head signaling for the guards to release Merel from their grips. The blonde stood still for a while, her breaths heavy and limbs stiff. It was an impossible choice, no matter what, Merel would be devastated. If she refused to follow, a lot more people could potentially die at the inexperienced hands of the commanders as they tried in vain to make the raptors follow their orders. And if she did choose to follow, she would risk her “children’s” lives. Floor couldn’t admit to herself that she thought the plan would work, but at this point they had to give it all.

Seeing how Merel slowly turned around, both Charlotte and Floor faced her, her eyes wild and clueless. Something was moving behind there, decisions being made and trying to be put into words.

And then, it seemed like it all came together. And Floor felt like it did so as well. It had happened during the long awaited connection of lips, of hands moving over familiar curves. When Merel had kissed Charlotte, Floor had felt whole for the first time in a year. She still loved Merel. More than ever before. And Floor would do anything to keep them all together. And she hoped that Merel felt like that too. The raptors weren’t just animals to the blonde, and Floor finally understood that now. They had kept her company and she had raised them. And now she was letting them loose.  

Merel’s mouth tightened, head slowly turning and facing Ms. Turunen.

“I’ll come with. On one condition. Do not shoot my raptors.”

[rdmfavcpls]

Dragon of Japan - Chapter 3 A Haunted Manor Part 3

Title: Dragon of Japan

Pairing: Sebastian/Ciel Mai/Lin cheating Madoka/Naru previous Mai/Claude

Category: Crossover Black Butler/Ghost Hunt but I am trying to keep it mostly Ghost Hunt

Rating: T-M will slowly progress

Summary: Mai is a demon and she’s within the top 3 powerful demons, but she still  holds human emotions within her demon life. She got over Naru’s rejection quickly, but now she’s dying and her brother steps in to help her. What adventures will awat the new and improved SPR?

Warning: There is some Naru bashing and Nar is not  a main character in the story. Lin is a lot more talkative in this which I will explain within the story.

Chapter 1 - http://rdmfavcpls.tumblr.com/post/161338218957/dragon-of-japan-chapter-1

Chapter 2 - http://rdmfavcpls.tumblr.com/post/167926182047/dragon-of-japan-chapter-2-a-haunted-manor-part-2

Author’s Note: So I too have fallen victim in the Ghost Hunt Black Butler crossover universe.

Disclaimer: I do not owe any rights to Ghost Hunt or the Black Butler franchise.

Please enjoy the story and constructive feedback is always welcomed.

~~Story Begins~~

Chapter 3 - Haunted Manor Part 3

The night was eventful, screams were heard, howling was heard from the roof, smell of burning flesh had forced John and Monk out of the kitchen. By the time the morning sun started to rise, everyone was exhausted and there was so much evidence to go over that Lin knew he wasn’t going to get any rest during the day.

Lin was on his way to the dining room, his white shirt covering a dragon mark on his shoulder blade that he had now since making that temporarily contract.

“Morning, Lin,” John greeted rubbing his eyes. “Last night was crazy.” Lin nodded his head. “Our client didn’t tell us anything new about the experiences here so that must be what they deal with constantly. No wonder they wanted us to investigate it.”

They arrived at the dining room and Lin wanted to turn around and forget about his morning coffee as his ex-girlfriend was sitting at the table next to her former student.

“Koujo,” she greeted upon seeing him, her pink hair resting past her shoulders, she wore a pink sweater over a white shirt and a pink skirt. “We need to talk.”

Yasuhara was already there and John took the seat next to him as he blurted out, “You are going to be a father!”

“Yasuhara,” the newcomer spoke scolding him. “I wanted to tell Koujo that I’m carrying his baby.”

Lin didn’t think that the change in his life would be this bad, “How? We haven’t been together as a couple in a month and you know I don’t do ‘friends with benefits’ or ‘no strings attached’. So how is it my baby, Madoka?”

“Silly, that’s because I’m two months in,” Madoka said.

The client was sitting at the head of the table, a twenty year old man with short black hair, but long enough to cover one of his bright, wide, blue eyes. He was wearing a purple buttoned silk shirt tucked into black dress pants. He had his tea cup up to his lips before he sat it back down, a smirk on his face.

There was clicking against the hardwood on the main floor coming from behind Lin, when an all too familiar laugh sounded within the silent stunned walls when a voice spoke in japanese, “I’m terribly sorry Madoka, I shouldn’t laugh, but what you are saying isn’t true.”

Lin turned his head as Ayako stood up fast, “Mai!”

Mai walked past Lin, her brown hair was short, just barely touching the top of her shoulders, her amber brown eyes were wide and filled with emotion, her pale skin was highlighted by the dark green dress that looked like it was painted on most of her body, the dress stopped at her knees where knee high ribbons interconnected with each other where they met green heels that had a heel of five inches, making her seem taller than Naru.

“Mai!” Monk yelled ripping off his black shirt revealing a green shirt and proceeded to hug the young girl with all of his might.

“You can hug me all you want later, Bou-san,” Mai said after Ayako dragged him off of her. “Hello, everyone.”

“Idiot,” Naru said watching Mai take a seat next to Masako. “What makes you think that Madoka isn’t pregnant?”

“Oh, no, I believe she’s pregnant, it’s who she is trying to play the daddy card with,” Mai said. She tilted her head to the side. “After all, it would be hard for Lin to be a father when you kept him at the office for five months straight doing paperwork while you went behind his back.”

“That is not true, only an idiot like you would think of something -”

“Oh, are you calling Gene a liar and an idiot?” Mai asked interrupting Naru as she rested her chin on her hand. “You know for a fact that the living cannot control the dead, besides, there is also hard evidence.”

Lin’s shiki pushed him until he was standing behind the empty chair next to Mai, which he sat in. Than his youngest shiki went to Mai’s arm. She reached her hand up as she made the move to push some of her hair behind her ear, his shiki curled around her neck.

“What hard evidence do you have to prove this claim, Mai?” Masako asked, her emotions going crazy. She wanted to hate Mai, but if what she’s saying is true than Masako would be grateful. She doesn’t want any bad publicity.

The person sitting at the head of the table finally spoke after taking a drink of his tea, “It’s refreshing to hear you laugh instead of coughing, Mai, you had all of us scared.”

“I’m sorry, Ceil,” Mai said. “I didn’t mean for that to be intention.”

“As to answer your question about the hard evidence, Ms. Hara,” Ceil said going back to the topic at hand. “For centuries, my family has been known as the ‘Queen’s Guard Dog’. We investigate cases that deal with the black market and where the police have no authority. The Queen gives us the access of many types of resources, so we have a video of you two on Lin’s couch doing more than kissing and watching a movie. We have the punch-out time sheets along with a hallway video showing what times Lin left and entered his office, who visited him and if they brought anything with them. We also have garage videos of his vehicle not moving for five months.

“Naru, Madoka, please be honest,” John said. “Did you commit adultery?”

Lin kept his emotions blanked as Sebastian walked out carrying tea, water, and coffee. “Pardon me for being late to serve,” Sebastian said sitting down the cups. “However, Mr. and Mrs. Davis call lasted longer than I expected.”

“Did you convince them?” Ciel asked.

“Mr. Davis, yes, his wife wanted a much bigger punishment, but he convinced her and they both agreed,” Sebastian said answering. “I sent them the evidence, including Ms. Mori and Doctor Davis’ text messages to capture Mr. Lin in an unhappy relationship.”

“You had this set up!” Ayako said anger radiating off of her. Monk had to restrain her from doing anything rash but his emotions were running wild too.

“Those are private!” Madoka said.

Mai chuckled. “A dog will always follow their nose,” she said. “Besides they had all access to anything they needed. Ceil just told you that.”

“Doctor Davis, Ms. Mari, you two are off the case. My cook, Baldroy, will take you back into town. Mr. Lin, would you be willing to accept lead position in this case?” Ciel asked.

Lin nodded, he wasn’t expecting karma to be like this, but he isn’t one to complain.

“It’s my team,” Naru said.

“Was our tea,” Mai commented as Sebastian went back into the kitchen. “I’m not a part of SPR right now, with me being sick and everything.” Sebastian came back out with plates that had fried eggs, toast, and bacon and proceeded to place them in front of the guests skipping; Naru, Madoka, and Mai. “Ceil just kicked you off of this case and asked Lin if he would be the leader. The only person who has to follow that is Yasuhara, but the others can chose. This isn’t their main source of income.”

“Sir,” Sebastian said, “should I get Finniean to throw them out?”

“No, but I do want them off of my property, show them the way out,” Ciel ordered.

“As you wish, master,” Sebastian said bowing. He forced the two ex-members to get up and pushed them out of the doors and outside (much to their struggle).

Yasuhara looked at Lin, a smile on his face that would make the Cheshire Cat be proud, “Looks like you’re the new big boss.”

Ceil spoke again, his one eye focused on Lin, “There’s more that I would like to talk about since the tension and awkwardness is out of the room, Mr. Lin.”

Lin’s attention that was focused on his youngest shiki sleeping around Mai’s neck while Mai was whispering something into Masako’s ear. He turned his focus back towards the client, “Yes?”

“Doctor Davis is going to be no more than an errand boy and Ms. Mori is going to be a researcher who doesn’t have access to the field, Mr. and Mrs. Davis both agreed that they would like for you to take over the Japan’s branch.”

Lin wanted to take it, but he wasn’t exactly a people person. John, as in reading the man’s mind said, “You’ll be great, Lin. There isn’t much in which you have to change, Yasuhara and Mai could be the ones asking the questions while you type. We all know that you kept SPR standing. Naru and Madoka do not have my support.”

“That is, if Mai rejoins,” Ayako said.

“The only way I wouldn’t rejoin is if you guys didn’t want me,” Mai responded as Masako pushed her food away.

“We all can use a daily Mai in our lives,” Yasuhara joked. He looked across the table at Monk, “I’ll need a dosage of my beloved Monk in my life.”

“...Again?” Monk asked realizing the kid was teasing him.

“I meant with what’s been illing you, Mai,” Ayako said clarifying her statement.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Mai said cheerfully. “I’m getting better now.”

“Lin,” Masako said quietly. “My services will be open to you when I’m free.”

Lin stared at the medium, wondering what exactly Mai whispered to her. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I’m here for you, man,” Monk said. “SPR is home and not going to lie, you would make a much better boss than Naru.”

“Why would we stab you in the back when your charge and girlfriend did that?” Ayako asked. “We consider you a friend, a friend that’s definitely deserving of loyalty and trust.”

“Thank yo-”

“Mai!” a man around twenty-five screamed and proceeded to pick the surprised girl up out of her feet with ease, he turned her around and started hugging her tightly. The man had a worn gardner’s hat hanging around his neck, a shirt that used to be white was covered in mud, grass, and dirt stains while heavy plaid pants led to cargo boots, his blonde hair was in a small man bun.

He spun Mai around in the air, “You’re awake! You’re finally awake! You’re not being subjected to experiments anymore!”

“Finniean,” Mai gasped. “Need air. Remember your strength.”

Finniean put her down, a sheepish smile on his face, “Sorry, I was so excited to see you again!”

“Finniean,” Ciel said. “Did you finish the gardening chores?”

“No, I heard from Mey-Rin that she was finally awake,” Finniean said. “Sorry.”

“Understandable, but please do remember that we are needed at an event tonight,” Ciel said getting up. “The manor will be in your hands, Lin.”

Lin nodded in understanding as Finniean dragged Mai away to help with his chores. Everyone went their ways and SPR arrived at the base. “So, we’ve down one, but it’s not like it matters,” Ayako said.

“Yasuhara,” Lin said, “Can you and Masako do research over this place?”

“Why must I do research?” Masako asked.

“I figured a break from you hearing all the spirits might benefit you, I’m not asking you to leave. There is a library here.”

“Oh,” Masako said. “Okay than.”

“John, Ayako, and Monk,” Lin said. “Get ready to prefer exorcisms tonight in the kitchen but Ayako and Monk, can you start making charms for our clients and his servants, plus Mai, in case the spirit's wishes to follow them.”

“Got’cha, don’t you worry about it,” Monk said.

“John, would be opened to ask everyone as to why Mai is here staying? It’s mostly out of curiousity, but Mai seems to be loved here, not once did we have to speak english once she made her presence known.”

“No worries,” John said grabbing a notebook and pen. “What will you be doing?”

“Monitoring, so far, nothing’s happened in the day, but we must always be on watch.”

“You do care,” Ayako said flipping her hair over her shoulder. “We’ll let you know when I’m done.”

The group left and Lin started typing on his computer, his patient shiki watching the monitors as he listened to the audio. His youngest shiki wanted to play so it kept sliding in between his fingers causing Lin to smile.

After a while, Lin’s shiki finally stopped playing and laid across his laptop when he heard Mai spoke in fluent almost natural cantonese, accent and everything. The only reason as to why it was almost is because Lin knew she was from Japan.

“The groaning and screaming are coming from the spirits who died on this land in a fire, the smell of flesh being burned is from those who the Phantomhive’s caught embezzling from their toy factories and those who can escape the grasp of the law, the barking and howling comes from a hound the Phantomhives had at one point. Sebastian takes the silverware, as for the footsteps, it’s a residual haunting, harmless.”

Lin turned around in his chair to see Mai smiling at him, her dress, knees, and shoes dirty, something which didn’t surprise him. She had a need to help others that outweighed almost everything else to her. “You know cantonese? That’s not important,” Lin said speaking back in cantonese. It felt natural, welcoming for Lin to speak in his native tongue. “Did you have a dream that explained that?”

“No, Mey-Rin, she has a soft spot for horror stories,” Mai said.

“Then they are not proven from fact.”

“Your research will prove her right,” Mai said countering him. “Bind or contract?”

“What?”

“Sebastian  didn’t tell you?” Mai asked her eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Lin said.

“I should have realized that by the way you reacted,” Mai said. “Would you like to make a contract with me or bind me? Honestly, I think a contract would work best considering you and the job we hold. Plus it would look good on your resume.”

“Mai, I’m still confused,” Lin said slowly.

“I’m the Dragon of Japan,” Mai said. “I’m the demon that is going to take your orders? Sebastian did explain part of this, I hope. I’m honestly surprised you accepted. You hate the Japanese.”

Lin openly displayed shock because how could he not? It was hard to let this information sink in that he was working alongside a demon for a year and never noticed or felt threatened, except for when they first met. “You don’t act like a demon.”

“Even after three centuries, close to four, I’m still an anomaly,” Mai said with a shrug. “Bind or contract?”

Lin looked at the young girl, “I prefer binding but what make you think a contract would be better?”

“You’ve binded how many shiki-five? Anyway, you don’t have a contract with one. Create a contract with me, than not only does it show to those that are your opponents that you can make a contract, but that you was able to create a contract with the most reclusive, hardly known demon. With a contract, I can protect or keep an eye on someone else at your command, and lastly, contracts with demons are essentially more powerful.”

“So, how would you like to set up the contract,” Lin asked.

“I’m not going to demand your soul,” Mai explained. “Unlike the Dog of England and Spider of France. I much prefer corrupted souls, preferably those of Catholic priests. John’s safe, his soul is pure. Now, just at the end of each week, you transfer all of your excess magic to me. I’ll reject it if I know you need it.”

“So, you just want my extra magic?” Lin asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid I’m going to be useless until my strength is back.”

“It sounds like I’m getting a better deal,” Lin said. “That’s just your nature, however, always so giving. I will accept the terms on the condition that I can change some of them as needed. It’s more of hands-on learning, isn’t it?”

Mai nodded and stood in front of him. “May I see your wrist?” Lin rolled up his sleeve and showed Mai his wrist, she moved it to where the palm of his hand was up and sat her hand on top of his wrist.

Lin watched as her eyes glowed amber, magic circling around her moving her hair. Lin was still trying to wrap this whole thing inside of his head, that the young woman who he has feelings for - even when he was with Madoka - was a demon and he was agreeing to a contract with her.

Mai realized his wrist and a small image was designed, a dragon in flight, circling around like it was trying to make a full circle. “There, you can pass it off as a tattoo is asked.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Lin asked.

“The pentagram will appear when you give me a direct order, again, something that is easier with practice,” Mai said back away. “I better get going so you can go back to work, would hate it if you was caught slacking.”

Mai headed towards the door. “How exactly did you know that Naru was the father?” Lin asked.

Mai looked at him from her spot at the door. “I didn’t. Gene did. You have Gene’s support by the way. He cut off all connections with Naru thus making his connections with me stronger.”

She left and Lin couldn’t believe how fast his life had changed within one day, and all for the better.