MV: Whisker-Thin Escapes

Andy's biggest fear was that going through the glass would throw his balance off, but it shattered into a webwork of safety-glass cracks the moment his claws pierced it, and he passed through without any significant impact. The ground was far below -- Too far! -- but it was too late to do anything about that. He landed barefoot on the concrete, tucked, and rolled until he fetched up against a wood-and-metal bench. 

Andy pulled himself to his feet, and found himself staring down the barrel of a military-looking rifle, held by a figure in black combat gear. 

Veronica landed behind him, already shifting back to her human form. "Wait! Don't shoot him -- that's the kid. Targets are inside -- werewolf on level three, and a wight and a nightbringer coming down the fire stairs."

The armored figure swung around to look at her. "ID, please."

Veronica fished out her wallet and showed a badge. The armored man nodded, then touched the radio on his chest and spoke into it. Andy sagged with relief, and Veronica came forward to grab his elbow. "Can you drive?"

"Sure." Andy hadn't been driving long, but he could drive. "Stick or automatic, either one."

"Good. I've got a car around the side, and we need to get out of here. The team will get the building locked down, and hopefully eliminate the threat -- whoever they are, these guys are dangerous even for rogues. If you can drive, I can reload -- and make some calls."

Andy shrugged, and followed her as she started walking towards her car. She wasn't slow, and she wasn't worried about whether or not he would follow her; that much was obvious. "I can shoot, too," Andy told her. 

Veronica didn't even break her stride. "You," she reminded him, "are a teenager who's absolutely fed up with all this. I am not giving you a gun."

Okay, fair, Andy thought, and shrugged. "Then I'll drive."

The car was a sort of mini-SUV, a Honda, and Andy reached for the driver's door as Veronica unlocked it. He was pulling his seat belt on as she slid into the passenger seat, and took a brief moment to look over the console. Okay, automatic transmission, button instead of key to start it, nothing unusual. He stepped on the brake and started the car, checked to make sure that the emergency brake was off, and then slipped it into Reverse. He kept the movement casual, getting a feel for how sensitive the pedals were, how much turn it took to adjust the steering, where exactly turn signals and lights were located.  

It was dark out, so he flicked the headlights on, then got the car aligned and put it in Drive. The parking lot was full, so he made his way to the exit and turned onto the street. 

Veronica was shaking the bullets from her revolver into her hand. She took a moment to put the two remaining bullets back into the cylinder, then dumped the empty shells onto the floor of the passenger seat. "Turn right on Coit," she said absently. "We're heading up into Frisco."

"All right," he said, and started looking for street signs. 

He found Coit road, turned onto it, and headed north. He checked the mirrors, then slammed his foot down on the pedal. The car lurched forward, speeding up, and Veronica yelled, "Slow down! The last thing we need is attention from the police!"

Andy pressed down harder, swerved around a Dodge sedan, and kept going. 

"You're going to--" Veronica glanced back. "Oh, shit."

A massive black wolf was chasing them down the road, moving at impossible speeds.

"You motherfucker, I haven't even had a chance to reload!" she said, but she was already rolling down the window and leaning out. She aimed carefully, fired off one shot. Andy watched as the beast behind them lurched, barely managing to keep its footing. She took aim again, then fired a second shot, and watched as it stumbled, tumbled, and slid along the pavement. 

Andy hit the breaks, slowing them gently. 

"What are you doing?" asked Veronica. 

"Can a wight follow at that speed?" He asked. "Or a nightbringer?"

"...No," Veronica admitted. 

"So do you want to keep running, or do we finish it here?" asked Andy, feeling justifiably smug. 

Veronica stared at him for the space of a breath. "You scare me, kid."

Andy shrugged. "They killed me, murdered my girlfriend, and endangered my little sister. When I said I was fed up, that might have been an understatement."

Veronica snorted something that might have been a laugh. "All right. I'll reload and go deal with him. You stay here in the car."

"Not a fucking chance," Andy said. 

She looked at him for another long moment, then reached forward and opened the glove box. "I could get fired for this, so don't ever say anything about it -- but I changed my mind, you're getting a gun." 

Let Freedom (Ear)Ring

We went and got Secondborn's ears pierced at a lovely little local place. It took us three tries; state law has come a long way from when I was sixteen and got my ear pierced at a kiosk in the mall. We needed picture IDs for at least one parent and Secondborn, a birth certificate for her, and a bit of paperwork attesting that yeah, I was okay with this. 

The style of the initial studs is completely different, too. Forget the  rough, spike studs with their stupidly-large backs; today's versions are sleek, a tube inserted from the back, and a selection of fronts that slide into it. The tubes are a bit overlong, in case of swelling, but apparently we can come back in and get them shortened/replaced with something that fits better once they've finished healing. 

Since we were there, and since my own piercings haven't had earrings for decades, I signed up to have my old piercings re-pierced... except they didn't need it. Apparently the holes were still open, so they just stretched them back out to receive the new studs. Which was shockingly easy, and also much cheaper. I'm still not going to grow my hair back out, but I am going to cultivate my pirate earrings again. 

Secondborn was thrilled with this, I think; not only did she get what she'd been wanting, but her father jumped in to restore his version of it too.  Yeah, I'm old, but also I kind of feel like it's time to get back to reclaiming my identity as a freak. 

...Which reminds me, I need to do more sewing on the Patch Jacket MK II.

MV: Change of Plans

Half-transformed, Veronica was about six and half feet tall, covered in thick fur of gray and silver and black, and well equipped with teeth and claws while still retaining hands to hold her gun. Her claws weren't as long as Andy's, and he doubted she could talk with her head in this lupine configuration, but if there was a shape built for fighting this was it. 

She shoved him along, and he didn't try to fight it. Her gun was out, held in one clawed hand, and she alternated between moving away from the stairwell and looking back to see what might come out of it.  If the sign in the stairwell was correct, this was the third floor. 

A massive wolf slammed through the door of the stairwell. It was darker than Veronica, its fur nearly black, and it snarled in a way that echoed out for blood through every vein in Andy's body. Right, time to go, he thought, and raced ahead. Behind him, Veronica stood firm and raised her pistol. She fired off three shots, and then the other wolf was half-transformed as well, and they were half-grappling and half-clawing at each other. 

The silver bullets must have done their work, because the werewolf staggered and half-collapsed, giving Veronica a brief moment to snatch her gun back up and chase after Andy, gesturing for him to precede her. He took the hint and ran, pounding along the laminate floor tiles. There was a window up ahead, and with the stairwell blocked...

He had no idea if this was Veronica's plan, but it was definitely his. 

He leapt at the last moment, put his long-clawed fingers and toes in front of him, and exploded through the glass and out into empty air.  

MV: Hopping Stairs

The stairs were slow; Andy experimented with leaping the last few steps to the landing, then again from slightly higher up. Veronica didn't say anything; she just matched him, gun out but hammer down at his back. Above them, the movements of the wight had grown frantic, then calm as it moved to a spot directly above them. 

It had found the stairs. 

"Shit," said Andy. "It's still up on whatever the hell floor that was, but it's in the stairwell now." 

"We're almost to the ground," said Veronica. "I have a car in the parking lot. If we can get clear before it catches up, we'll be--" 

The stairwell went dark. 

Andy adjusted immediately, and Veronica didn't break her stride either, though she did curse as they made the next jump. "What is it with you and Steve?" he asked, finding that being dead meant that he was never out of breath. 

Veronica didn't have quite the same advantage, but she had enough endurance to answer anyway: "Werewolves," she said. "Late shift is Rodney, a vampire. A lot of the licensed hunters are monsters."

"Ah," said Andy. He'd never considered that some of the monster-hunters might be monsters themselves,  but it made a weird sort of sense. He'd never heard it discussed, but then that made sense, too. They rounded another landing, leapt again, this time taking the entire flight. Both of them landed easily, kicked off the concrete wall, and continued down. 

"Fuck me," said Veronica, catching at Andy's arm and pulling him to a sudden stop. "Goddamn werewolf below us." 

"Wolf?" asked Andy, remembering how the beast had looked as it came at him. 

"Wolf is the default, these days," Veronica said. "With time and practice, we can be other things as well." She hesitated, then said, "Stay behind me, but if you can get past us safely, do it. How close is the wight?"

He paused, looking up, and said, "Three-four landings down from where we started, and coming fast."

"Fuck." Veronica. "I do not want to be caught between them. This way--" She threw open a door labeled 3rd Floor and dragged Andy through after her, half-shifting as she did. 

Okay, that's pretty impressive, he thought.

Valthor: Battles, then Cuddles

"I saw you fighting down there," said Kiela. "It was... well, it really impressive. All those orcs..."

Valthor shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I mean, I wasn't the only one fighting them."

"No, but... I mean, you and your friends fight well together, but you all have different styles. Tizrin seemed to be having a bad day -- I'm sure he fights better than that normally, and Rrhorask is deadly with those knives when he has room to throw them, but as long you have have someone to fight beside you're... I'm not sure how to describe it. I could see you positioning yourself, lining up your shot."

Valthor chuckled. "Well, I was raised to believe that precision counts for more than strength -- most of the time, anyway. That one time my cousin Lothos lifted me off the floor by neck, it sure didn't feel that way."

"Your cousin picked you up by your neck?" Kiela asked, sounding slightly aghast. "How old were you?"

"...Seventeen, I think," Valthor told her. "He wasn't trying to strangle me or anything, he just wanted to make sure we understood each other. Pretty typical cousin stuff."

"Um," said Kiela, still studying his face. "Valthor, that's not typical. It's actually kind of insane."

"Is it?" asked Valthor. "I don't know, it seemed pretty normal at the time."

"Trust me," Kiela told him. "It wasn't." She swallowed. "Anyway, you want to come down to the cargo hold with me and have a drink? We set up a nice, discreet spot behind some of the boxes."

"Sure," said Valthor, and followed her down the stairs. 

He was restless after the fight, and horny, but it wasn't until they reached the corner hideaway that he realized what she had in mind. "No chairs," Kiela told him, looking innocent. "We'll have to sit on the bedroll."

Valthor swallowed. "I can manage that," he said.  

MV: Claws Out

Andy called the claws back out. Unlike his first effort, he could pause to really look at them now: seven inches long, razor-sharp, anchored firmly to his fingers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the beast stirred; it was looking forward to this. He continued down the concrete steps, Veronica right behind him. She had her pistol out, and he was well aware she could shoot him in the back, but he didn't think she would. 

The zombies weren't as intimidating as he'd expected. There were maybe half a dozen of them, and... fuck. They wore nursing scrubs or lab coats, or in one case both. The fucking wight had killed them here in the hospital, brought them back, and turned them to its service. 

It was above them now, moving back and forth -- probably trying to figure out exactly where they'd gone and how to follow. He hoped the nurses at the desk had taken shelter.

Andy launched himself down at the first of the zombies, bowled it over, disemboweled a second one, then rolled back to his feet and tore into the rest, severing tendons and cutting through bones, smashing joints when he could manage it. He'd done some wrestling in PE, and knew how to push a hold into a break; slicing with his new claws was more a matter of instinct and opportunity.

It was still more than the zombies could take. They beat at him, but all they could do was bludgeon him as he tore them apart. 

As the last of them fell, he heard a firm metallic click behind him. "You still okay?" Veronica asked. 

Andy put his claws away and turned slowly to face her. "Yeah," he said, realizing as he said it that he was staring down the barrel of her pistol. "Do wights do berserker shit?" 

"...Not so far as I know," Veronica admitted. "But that was a lot of violence."

"Lady," said Andy, "I am a teenager who is absolutely fucking fed up with all of this, and if I can take it out on a bunch of zombies, that's what I'm doing. So either shoot me now, or come on." 

She eased the hammer back, offered a grim smile. "All right. Let's get the hell out of here. Let the cleanup team handle it." 

MV: Under Siege

"Yeah," Andy agreed. "Are you my current Steve?"

"Yeah," she said. "We take shifts so we can sleep. I'm Veronica."

"Right, pleased to meet you -- and I'll be happy to get back in bed just as soon as I'm not being hunted."

"Miss?" asked the male nurse. "He wants to talk to you."

She nodded and accepted the phone. "Uh huh. Yeah. That's what he says. No... No I don't. All right." She handed the phone back and said, "Fuck," again, this time with a little more force. 

I waited, and she turned back to me. "All right. He's calling it in, but he wants me to get you out of here."

Andy nodded, knowing he was in well over his head. "Please."

"Emergency stairs are over here," she said. "Should be fine unless they're coming up that way."

Andy stopped to focus for a moment. "No, I don't think so."

"All right. Follow me." She strode off down the hall, and Andy fell into place a step behind her. "We've got a team on station," she said. "We were kind of hoping this group would come looking for you."

"Is that common?" 

Veronica shrugged. "Not really, but common enough to be worth preparing for -- especially with a group like this, who've managed to cover their trail so well that any regular pursuit has proven useless." She hesitated. "If I could be sure of the timing, I'd say you could do more good as bait in your room, but I don't know how far out the team is and Steve doesn't want you running up against the wight who turned you."

Andy didn't want that either. Not until he was better prepared, anyway. He followed her through the door to the emergency stairs and started down. "Thank you for helping me."

"I'd tell you it was a pleasure, but--" 

They both huffed a laugh. 

There were footsteps on the stairs below them, coming up. Veronica slowed, then stopped and looked over the rail. She frowned, then said: "Zombies. This wight must have raised some help."

"We can do that?" asked Andy, appalled. "Like, wights can animate corpses?"

Veronica nodded. "Yeah, at least temporarily. Wights are pretty decent necromancers: speak to the dead, raise zombies to help them, stuff like that."

Do not want, Andy thought. Rather than saying that out loud, he asked: "How tough are zombies?"

"Tough is about all they have going for them, honestly," Veronica said. "They aren't especially strong or smart, and most of them weren't created from herd who knew how to fight."

"So you can kill them with bullets?"

Veronica hesitated. "I'd rather not. These are silver rounds, good for wights as well as werewolves -- two-thirds of the trifecta that attacked you."

Andy nodded. "Do you trust me?"

Veronica tilted her head to regard him. "What did you have in mind?"

"I've figured out one basic trick," he said softly. "Save your ammo, and let's see how well it works."

Veronica was easily old enough to be his mother, but she regarded him evenly and then said. "All right. Stay where I can haul you back if it goes badly."