Duendewood: Children of Ruin, part two

"You want to do what?" asked Sun, looking aghast. She was dressed in a robe of bronze and white, which contrasted intriguingly with the gold scales that covered her body. 

Tybalt looked up at her. "I want to found a Temple to our father," he said simply. He was a true elf, dark-haired and pale-skinned, slender and graceful. 

"It isn't really a matter of want," Azrael added. "These two've done it."

"How?" Sun was a cleric of Amun, newly appointed; as far as she knew, this shouldn't be possible.

Tybalt shrugged. "We built an altar, and we pledged ourselves, and he answered."

Sun tilted her head. "So you can actually cast spells?" She was perceptive enough to realize that, of her True Elf half-siblings, Tybalt would have been the one to set this up, and the most likely to have become an actual cleric. ...Of our father, she thought, still trying to wrap her mind around that. 

Tybalt seemed to realize that some sort of demonstration was in order; he gestured and spoke, and a ball of water appeared in the air and splashed to the ground. 

"And I can smite," Ash confirmed. 

"Okay, that's pretty cool," said Risk, who'd been training in unarmed combat -- if fighting with his claws could be said to be unarmed. Like Sun and their brother Scar, he was a golden half-dragon, with all that that entailed.

Scar nudged him. "We should take them with us." He'd turned to his own natural aptitude for magic, begun tapping into it. 

"Take them with us where?" asked Morrigan, who looked deceptively like nothing more than a high elf. 

"Oh, right, I didn't tell you yet." Scar smiled, charming as ever. 

Rose and Skyflower drifted over. "Okay," said Rose, "what are we plotting today?" Skyflower was another of the True Elves, but Rose looked more like Morrigan and could easily have passed as her full sister.

"Heroics," said Scar dramatically, throwing up one hand for emphasis. "Apparently there's a band of gnolls that have drifted down into the Ladriaio Woods, and are using the Sweetwoods to stay hidden so they can raid some of the outlying settlements around Aldpond. Aldpond doesn't have any significant fighting force, and the King's Troops at Wellfort are stretched pretty thin, and haven't been able to mount a significant counterattack or effective patrols. The king himself is busy putting down a revolt of the Wildlanders,"

"I have questions," said Skyflower. "Starting with: how do you know this?"

Scar shrugged. "Magical insight, of course."

"He means there was a notice posted at the tavern the other night," Risk corrected, "What do you think, my siblings and half-siblings?"

Ash shrugged, touched the falchion that was slung across her back. "I'm a Paladin of Ruin," she said. "I'm in." 

Tybalt nodded; his falchion was belted at his waist. "Is anybody not in?"

There was a long moment of silence.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," said Scar. "Anybody down there who didn't know our father's name before is about to find out." He glanced at Sun. "With credit to Amun as well, of course."

She nodded back at him. "All we need to do now is get down there. And I have an idea about that." 

Duendewood: Children of Ruin, part one

"What are you doing?" asked Azrael, watching as his brother placed a pair of candles on the exposed chunk of limestone that had come loose from the hillside behind it. It was well back from their mother's hidden forge, which was already isolated from almost everything. 

"It's a shrine," Tybalt told him. He was the middle child and the most thoughtful of the siblings. He was also the most slender of the three, closer to a typical True Elf than either of his siblings. "For our father."

"Not the Highwaymen?" asked Ash, curious. She was the oldest, dark-haired and stocky, already practiced at arms and eager to learn everything their mother could teach her.

"Not yet," said Tybalt. "Just Ruin. If we get more worshipers, we can add rites for the others."

"We?" asked Azrael. He was solidly built too, like their parents, and spent most of his time assisting their mother at the forge. 

"We," Tybalt confirmed. "Our father helped defeat Galvera twice: once here in Midgard, and again in Asgard. He deserves to have his own clergy--" Tybalt looked at Ash. "--And his own martial order. You up for that, big sister?"

Azrael leaned back against a tree and watched Ash consider that. His sister loved combat, and she'd taken to the falchion in honor of their father. "You think I should become a paladin in service to our father," she said slowly. 

"I think our father deserves to have an order of paladins devoted to him. It can't be me -- I've sparred with you, and by comparison, well, I suck. Azrael's devoted to the forge -- and our mother's craft -- and  while I'd like to see him become the first lay member of of our father's church, I don't see him becoming a paladin."

"You've been thinking about this," Ash observed, studying Tybalt's face. "What would you say our father should be the god of...?"

"Battle, and Travel, and Justice," Tybalt replied. "That's what I've got so far."

"Outcasts," suggested Azrael. "Found families."

"Good," admitted Tybalt. 

"Revenge?" suggested Ash. "No, that's not quite right. But... Endurance, maybe? Like, all those things that happened and he just kept going."

"Endurance is good," Tybalt affirmed. 

There was a moment of shared silence. "Yes," said Ash. "I could pledge myself to that."

"Good," said Tybalt. "Because I'm going to become his first cleric." 

"All right," said Azrael. "You're going to need lay worshipers too, and I'll be the first."

Tybalt pulled the tinder box from his belt, opened it, and touched a dried reed to the ember inside. He used the burning reed to light the candles. "Sister, we'll need your blade on the altar."

Ash nodded, unbuckled her baldric, and laid it and the falchion it held atop the chunk of limestone. Tybalt had brought along a bow; he strung it and placed it across the falchion. 

"No," said Ash. "That's not right. Bow on the bottom, Falchion on top."

Tybalt nodded and reversed them. 

"Oh!" said Azrael. "Just a minute." He hurried back down to his room beside the forge, and returned with a small ruby. "For the gem he got from the Druid Hierophant, and returned to the next."

"Yes," Tybalt said firmly. "A contribution from each of us, to complete the connection. Step up and touch the altar."

They came forward and put their hands on the rectangular chunk of limestone, regarded the candles. It was almost dark, that liminal time when day gave way to night. "I pledge myself as a Priest of Ruin the Defender, who in his life was Oathkeeper, Warrior, and Traveler."

Ash said, "I pledge myself as a Paladin of Ruin the Endurer, who in his life was a survivor, an explorer, and a warrior."

Azrael nodded thoughtfully. "I pledge myself as a simple worshiper of Ruin the Father, who in his life was protector, outcast, and family-builder."

There was a long moment of silence. 

Then a silent voice echoed through the trees. MY CHILDREN, it said, I AM SO VERY GRATEFUL. 

Music: Friend or Foe?

t.A.T.u.

DoT: Retribution Comes In Many Forms

"It wasn't them," said Faldor. "They're using one of the Guild safehouses under the lower east spoke, but we've been watching them and they were doing something for the druids the night Nikilo went missing."

Across the table from him, Cedric Bloodblade shifted his weight, then took a sip of his beer. It wasn't good beer, but then it wasn't particularly bad beer either. "I'm almost disappointed," he said, "but likely that means that this one really was the Redblades." He considered that. "Turf wars are bad for business, but maybe Mad Mattie's forgotten that -- or Varna's decided to turn his ambitions in another direction."

"I'd put money on Varna," said Dalia. She was the gang's wizard, but she was also good at digging up information and putting things together. Rumor had it she was Cedric's cousin, and there was some resemblance -- but if so, neither of them had ever bothered to address it.

Cedric was thinking. Like Dalia, he was good at that; it was no small part of the reason that Faldor enjoyed being part of the Mist Eyes, even if they were a comparatively poor, small gang. The Bloodblade wasn't the most dangerous of the gang leaders, not in person -- though he could hold his own when he needed to. No, Cedric had gotten his position by being persuasive, perceptive, and good at planning.  

If Dalia was Cedric's left hand, Amon was his right. Surprisingly lean for a half-orc, he was deadly in combat and could put an arrow through somebody's eye from two spokes away. He spoke in a smooth baritone: "I wouldn't rule out Mad Mattie entirely, but I agree. It's more likely Varna. Won't be Verity; she only cares about two things -- protecting the Red Blades and that weird religion of hers." He sighed. "Sorry, Boss, looks like we get two different problems at once." 

Faldor watched as Cedric shook his head. "No, what we have here are opportunities." He looked at Faldor. "How many did you say were in this crew?"

"Five, maybe six. Plus a trio of street kids they picked up."

"And they didn't try to kill you. Instead, they distracted you so they could get what they wanted. Then they pulled that job up in Greycloak territory and got away clean... again, without killing anybody. They finally gave themselves away by helping out a local merchant, maybe to protect those kids they've been working with."

Faldor nodded. "That's how it looks, Boss."

"Etiquette says they crossed the Guild, they have to pay. Very well, I don't disagree. But 'pay' can mean a lot of things."

Amon tilted his head, considering. Dalia was already smiling. "Bring them in?" she asked. 

Cedric nodded, and absently reached down to touch the Bloodblade itself. "Yeah." He looked back at Faldor. "What I'm hearing is that they're talented but inexperienced, unprofessional."

Faldor sighed. "The one who set me up spends his mornings baking and the evenings playing music. I'm pretty sure their elf is dating one of the bartenders down at the Bluddy Nose, and I have no idea how the druid fits into all this. I don't think they're professionals." He considered that, then added: "At least, not at the Guild's sort of work."

"Do we think they killed Anderlin Greycloak?" Cedric was looking at Dalia. 

"I don't know," she said cautiously, "and I don't want to guess. If they did, it's the first time that we know of that they actually killed a person, and the group that hit the place were obviously in disguise but also apparently all humans. Shorewards, though, the group that's being blamed was around the right size and used some similar tactics, and they definitely did take whatever Greycloak and the merchant were making a deal over, along with Greycloak's rapier -- which they were smart enough to drop in the bay."

"All right," said Cedric. "I'll bite. The group 'that's being blamed'? You don't think they did it?"

"The wounds were all made by a dagger -- and poisoned, in Greycloak's case. Almost certainly the same weapon. I don't think this group has anybody who's up to that level of precision."

"Okay, I'm speaking above my place here and I know it," said Faldor, "but I have to ask: how do you know that?"

Dalia smiled. "You know that bakery on lower spoke east?"

"The Bread and Board," Faldor answered immediately. "Good stuff. Yeah, I approached the musician there precisely because the owner's brother... is a member... of the Greycloaks."

Dalia was smiling as he put it together. "I chatted him up as he was on way back up. He recognized me, and was very polite about it. We're having dinner tomorrow night."

 "Huh," Amon mused. "I know Vallista got her father's rapier back -- the Gleaners stepped in on that one."

Cedric nodded. "It wouldn't do to underestimate them, much as they keep to themselves. There are reasons that Tiassa reports directly to Othar Fastaxe. And that was a sharp move on their part." He leaned back in his seat, finished his beer, and set the heavy pewter stein back down on the table. "Okay, let's run this through. They show up out of nowhere, and take the delivery from Faldor but don't hurt him. Then they hit the woodcrafter up in Greycloak territory -- and again, manage to do it without hurting anybody. Then they -- somehow -- hit Telk's place over in Nightwalker's territory. We think. That's around the time that Tamsin's Tumblers disappear, probably because the Greycloaks are looking for answers and their members are just a little too similar to this crew."

"They'll either show back up undamaged, or nobody'll ever hear about them again." Amon suggested, and Cedric nodded. 

"But then they screw up," Cedric said. "They approach Bilk's shop, no disguises, and clear some kids out of the back for him. You see them," he added, looking at Faldor. 

Faldor nodded. "Only I can't follow them, because they're paying attention and the kids are guiding them in some ways that would make it obvious if I try to follow. But, again, nobody really gets hurt."

Cedric nodded at that. "Right. Then Anderlin Greycloak gets killed at some kind of exchange with a merchant, one that apparently even his own people don't know about. Vallista takes over the Greycloaks -- which isn't a problem for us, but'll probably surprise some people who think they might be vulnerable --  and I think we can assume that even if this group wasn't involved, someone is taking advantage of the disruptions they're creating. Meanwhile, they also seem to be working with the druids, helping out some people on their spoke, and making connections inside the Guild. What's the angle here?"

"Disrupt the Guild," Dalia said. "Set us against the Red Blades, the Greycloaks and other mid-level gangs against each other, and maybe call the Beggars into question as well."

Faldor nodded; so did Amon. It was almost a shame that Obstreperous wasn't present; the bugbear's advisor, a goblin who called himself Bean, might have had some interesting insights to offer as well.  

"It's not just some random crew who came into port and decided to do their own thing," said Faldor. "They've been too careful about the Guild for that. And they just don't act like career criminals, mostly. But Dalia's right: everything they've done has hurt the Guild overall. I don't think that's coincidence, but I don't see where this particular crew would come up with that goal on their own -- not without being a lot more careful about it."

Cedric nodded at that. "Then maybe we give them some guidance. They have talent, and they understand restraint." He looked around, took in Dalia and Amon's opinion with a glance, and then turned back to Faldor. "I need you to make them an offer..." 

Zero Draft!

Well, it's done. I have finished the zero draft (i.e. essentially unedited opening version) of the Horny Superteens book. Is it publishable? Probably not at this stage. Is it coherent? Yes, it hangs together and I don't think there are any significant plot holes. Is the plot a satisfying arc? I really don't know, I was thinking about a lot of 90s-era comics when I was writing it, so it kind of moves from one conflict to another to a third related conflict, and finally resolves that one. Could it be a series? ...Yes, I could write at least a sequel to this one, and probably a third to round out a trilogy. Is it any good? Well, the sections I've gone back and re-read (either to double-check details or just because my brain was still kind of there brought me joy, so there's that. Do the Horny Superteens "get any"? Yes. Oh dear ye immortal gods, yes. 

Frankly, the whole project has basically been keeping me sane this year, which is the primary reason that I wrote it. Now it's time to set it aside for a bit, get some perspective, and then go back and make a second pass at it -- and clean it up enough to let my trusted advisors give it a read and send me feedback. 

Meanwhile, probably on Monday, I'll be starting on my next project: a young were-squirrel who's been sent to stop the local baron from taking over his village. I know what the opening looks like, and I know the tone I'm going for. This one is going to have more a fairy tale flavor to it, and it's definitely a coming-of-age story. 

We'll see how it goes. I have a couple of others lined up behind it, so if I run aground I still have other options. And shifting to a different story sometimes makes the first story jealous, so there's that. Like I said, we'll just have to see. 

StV: New Member

"You're sure about this?" asked Charles, and Harbinger nodded. 

"I'm damned sure I want to try it," Harbinger told him. "If it doesn't work out, it's... what's that saying? No harm, no foul?"

He shrugged. "I don't actually know that one. But okay, nobody gets angry, nobody blames anybody?"

Harbinger nodded. "Exactly. Team Phoenix could use somebody to help with our mobility, and your other abilities would be hugely useful as well."

He took a deep breath. "And the part where I don't actually know how to fight?"

"You don't have to. You just have to keep yourself safe."

"Huh." He said. "Well, Troll thinks I can do it."

Harbinger nodded. "She's right. Plus, we're not a combat-heavy team, and if it really comes down to fighting that won't be your job anyway." 

"Okay. That would be good. I mean, it's interesting stuff to learn, I'm just not any good at it yet."

Harbinger paused outside the door. "That's fine. You don't have to be. Come meet the rest of the team." 

Music: Give Me Danger

Iggy Pop and the Stooges: 

Honeymoon!

Greetings! We are a newly-married couple, arriving for our honeymoon. We may have gotten a little lost, though -- the roads around here don't seem to match the map. Is this the Haunted Castle of the Vampires, where we booked a three-night stay with scenic views and unique experiences? It is? Oh, excellent! Well, do let us come right in, I'm sure we'll be very comfortable here.

How is this Tuesday?

The bushes tried to grab me on my way out the door this morning. The grass is looking unusually sharp and crystalline, too. The sun is a burning eye in the center of a vague but unimaginably vast shape, and I swear the clouds are frowning at me. Did dogs always have this many legs? I thought that was caterpillars. 

And -- God damn it -- I really need the road to stay still, instead of swaying around like this. If it uproots itself, it's going to make it really hard to get to work. Might have to go off-road and hope nothing comes down on me... 

How is this my Tuesday? 

State of Me, part whatever

Good weekend, with an interesting change of course in our D&D game that allowed me reintroduce some NPCs from earlier in the game: the group went down to the island's main fight club, the Bluddy Nose.This involved a mildly unwise amount of showing their faces, but our Druid disguised herself as a dog, and a couple of the others actually were in disguise. (Not the cleric, though -- her girlfriend works the bar, so naturally she was going as herself. The paladin got to have another match with one of local brawlers, who turns out to have a massive crush on her from last time they fought. Overall, it was an unexpected change of pace, but nothing I couldn't adapt to and I still got to insert the primary plot point that I had planned for the session. Next session should be pretty interesting.

Secondborn is back in school, and we're getting ready to get Firstborn moved back in as well. He'll have a roommate this year, which I think will be good for him. The new kitten is still doing well, and now displays no fear of the dog whatsoever. (He also got his morning bowl of food, and then five minutes later was back to meowing at me in a demand to be fed, because clearly he has never been fed ever in his whole fluffy life.) 

We spent Friday night with the grandparents, eating pizza and watching movies -- Now You See Me 2, in this case, which was fun.  

Other than that, not much to report, so I'm going to sign off and get back to work.  

 

Quick Note

I feel like maybe I don't say this often enough or loudly enough, but I am tremendously grateful to be married to Beautiful Wife. 

First Day Of

Brought Secondborn to school a bit earlier than necessary -- at his request -- and found a bunch of his friends parked at a table out front playing Magic: The Gathering. Apparently there is now something known as a "squirrel deck" and apparently it is the most annoying thing in creation. Anyway, got a nice shot of all them flipping off the camera for the first day of school (which, sadly, I won't share here for privacy reasons) and a couple of good First Day Of shots of Secondborn by himself. Dare I hope this will mark a good start to the school year and a better attitude on his end? I mean, hope springs eternal, but frying pans without fires are few and far between...

Anyway, he's due to go inside and pick up a Chromebook as soon as the place opens properly, and he seemed pretty chipper. We stopped by Starbucks to grab some breakfast, which was expensive but worth it, though the poor Starbucks workers were absolutely inundated by the First Day of School crowd.  He didn't even ask for any caffeine, so I guess he's about as ready as it's possible to be. 

Challenge: Not Feeling Well

Prompt: What I read when I'm not feeling well

Comfort reads! The short, easy answer is that I tend to go back and re-read books that I enjoyed previously. (Or, alternatively, play video games that fall into the same general category.) 

That includes some stand-alones: 

• Martha Wells, Wheel of the Infinite
• Martha Wells, City of Bones
• Roger Zelazny, Lord of Light
• Jennifer Crusie, Welcome to Temptation
• Jennifer Crusie, Faking It
• Jennifer Crusie, Bet Me

It also includes some series: 

• Roger Zelazny, Chronicles of Amber
• Barbara Hambly, the Darwath Cycle
• Robert E Howard, various Conan short stories
• Martha Wells, The Books of the Raksura

And, as I mentioned, a couple of video games that occupy a similarly comfortable/comforting niche for me: 

• Infamous and Infamous 2
• Infamous Second Son
• Soul Reaver (and various associated)
• Star Wars: Battlefront (the PS2 version, not the newer one)

There are a few others that I might jump back to if I were feeling poorly and the mood took me, but these are my go-to list.  

* * * 

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews.)   

StV: Her Mother's Daughter, part two

Julie recognized the number on her phone, but ignored it and shoved it back in her pocket. Whatever was going down, her parents had brought it on themselves -- and let the Prophet drag her in and use her as His tool to try to clean up His mess. She wasn't having any more of that. She was damned lucky that Harbinger hadn't killed her -- or left her for the Hounds. 

But she'd made him an offer, and he'd accepted it. That meant she need to to act -- to let him know what she knew, to help him take down the Prophet. Maybe she'd get lucky, and Harbinger taking out the Prophet would turn her back to normal. Of course, if it did then she'd need to figure out what to do about Dastan, who was... not a deviant. An Anomaly, though, however harmless and nice he might be. 

Gods, my parents would hate that, she thought. It shouldn't have made the prospect of going out with him more appealing, but it did. She really wasn't sure how she felt about her parents right now, but angry seemed like a good start to it. 

Okay, so step one is go talk to Harbinger again, and step two is... sort out my fucking life.

It wasn't the best plan Julie had ever come up with, but it wasn't the worst either.  

StV: Florida Man, part fifteen

Tom Wilson/Florida Man,

I figure I owe you a letter at least, since you're probably getting antsy in there. Word is you've been well-behaved, and Araktul hasn't intervened. I figure that's you on your best behavior. So I wanted you to know that I'm cheering for you, and very impressed so far. And yeah, you probably still hate me for bringing you in, but you know the rules as well as I do. Better, maybe. 

I was right in thinking that people would be interested in you even with your record, so you'll definitely have some opportunities available if you keep this up. I'll tell you more about it if you write me back.

Yours, 

That Annoying Kid,
Cloudburst

* * *

Kid, 

Fuck off. I hate this, I hate you, and I can't believe I let you talk me into staying here. I haven't had a beer in two weeks. Do you have any idea what that's like? That's some kind of war crime or something. 

I mean. Yeah, all right, could be worse. I get fan mail, if you believe that. Including one woman who's clearly out of her mind because she says she wants to marry me. Still can't believe you actually wrote me, though. Means a lot. 

I'm staying put. Been thinking about some of the things you said, too. Like... out of everybody I know, the only two people who'd stand up for me are Araktul and you. And you're right, that's kind of sad. So I'll do my time and see what happens after. Not saying I'll reform or anything, just

Anyway thanks for writing,

Florida Man 

StV: Her Mother's Daughter, part one

Well, at least now I don't have to worry anymore about doing the wrong thing and getting myself damned, Julie thought to herself. I just went and damned myself, openly and knowingly. There's no coming back from this.

Maybe I can just be done with the whole thing...

Julie watched with something like religious awe as Harbinger strolled off to deal with the soldiers ahead of them. The lights overhead flickered and went out, and she switched her eyes over to what she thought of as Deviant Vision, where she could see in the dark and also spot Anomalies. "It's okay," she said to the small crowd of recently-freed prisoners behind her. "I can still see."

"Nobody's coming," Dastan said, beside her. He was around her own age, for all that she looked a half-decade younger. He was also what she'd been taught to believe was Deviant and Damned, but... his power was just that he could sense the lives around him, and he seemed... nice. "Harbinger is... taking care of things."

Everybody fell silent. There were screams coming from around the corner ahead, then silence there as well. Julie considered taking a look, but then somebody in front of them was talking, the specifics muffled by echoes. Harbinger had been nice too, in his way, but he was also... this.

"Dastan?" she asked, softly. 

He shook his head. "There's another Anomaly confronting him, but it's... weirdly incomplete?"

Then there were gunshots, echoing and nearly deafening in the concrete-walled corridors. "The other one is gone, and Harbinger is moving forward. We should just wait here."

Julie nodded. After a moment, she asked: "How did you end up with a name like Dastan?"

He shot her a grin, which should have been invisible in the blackness. She still would have heard it in his voice, though: "So, you have to know two things about my parents," he said. "One, they're huge nerds. And two, they really love the whole Prince of Persia franchise, including the movie. So when I came along, well... Dastan."

"Art and Computer Science, was it?" Julie mused quietly. 

He nodded. "I come by it honestly." 

Music: Bad Moon Rising

Voices In Your Head featuring Avi Kaplan:

StV: Florida Man, part fourteen

"Where is she? Where is that little bitch. I'm going to fucking kill her! When I get out of here..."

Cloudburst came around the corner approached the cell where Florida Man was being held. His face was flushed red, and he was pulling at the bars hard enough to make them creak. He was also covered with the thick, leathery skin of an alligator. "That's still a pretty cool power," she told him. 

"You! You brought me in after I told you I wasn't going back to jail? Get over here so I can strangle you."

Cloudburst forced herself to keep her pace steady. She wasn't used to being yelled at, and she didn't like it. "Here," she said, when she got close enough to be just out of reach. "About half the deputies don't want anything to do with you, and the other half want to kill you for shooting those cops. So, the Sheriff said I could be the one to bring you Advil and Gatorade. I figured you'd be pretty hungover."

He scowled at her. "Don't want 'em."

 She raised her eyebrows. "You sure? That was a lot of beer and a lot of sun. Even with your gifts, you've got to be feeling pretty rough."

"Fuck you." 

She waited, and after a moment he lowered his head. "All right. Hand 'em over."

She tilted her head. 

"Please, you goddamned bitch. Please hand them over."

"All right." She held out the pill bottle, then yanked it back when he lunged forward and tried to grab her hand. "You keep this up, and I will walk away and leave you with your headache."

He took a deep breath, then went back to looking fully human. "Fine. You win."

She held the pills out again, and this time he took them. Then the same with the Gatorade bottle.

"That's a big bottle," he said, as he unscrewed the lid. 

"Yeah, well, you're a big asshole."

He glared at her, then chuckled. "All right, kid. I get it, you're trying." He popped a handful of painkillers, then poured maybe a fourth of the bottle down after them. "And you're right about the hangover, too. I'm just not used to having anybody try to take care of me."

He took another long drink, and she asked, "You don't have any friends?"

"I do, but they're all assholes too. I don't always like them, but we get each other. Except Araktul. Ancient alligator-god is the most stand-up guy I know."

Cloudburst shook her head. "Look, I'm not your mom, but you could be doing so much better than this. Do me a favor?"

"After you threw me in jail?"

She nodded. "Stay here. Do the time. Stay out of trouble. I can't promise anything, but I do have some connections... and I think a lot of people would be interested in hiring you once your time's up. You could be earning real money for doing some really interesting stuff."

"I don't... Whoever you think I am, I am not that person."

She shrugged. "Maybe not. But you could be. If you put in the work."

He shook his head. "Kid..."

"Just think about it," she said. She turned away and started walking up the corridor, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. 

StV: Florida Man, part thirteen

"You brought cards?" Florida Man's eyes lit up. He eyed Cloudburst closely, studying her face. "Don't suppose there's any chance of strip poker with your friends down there, though."

Cloudburst shook her head. "No."

"Too bad. Any reason everybody else is staying down there?" 

Cloudburst shrugged. "Giant alligator? Nobody wanted to make you nervous. And you strike me as the kind of person who doesn't like having a lot of people crowding around, jostling him."

"Well, sometimes..." He shrugged back at her. "But all right, that's fair. You do know how to play poker, though, right?"

Maria nodded. "My dad taught me. Used to play for toothpicks."

"Huh. My dad skipped out on my mom when I was six months old. Well, I've got a good supply of bottle caps, and there's gonna be more. You want to cut the cards, or what?"

"All right, let's see how we do."

* * *

In all, it took  four more hours and the sky was fully dark before Florida Man leaned back and said, "All right, kid. That was fun, but I think I'm..." He was snoring before he finished the sentence. 

Cloudburst reached down and patted the alligator's back. "All right, Big Guy," she said. "We're going to take him back and put him to bed. You just stay here and let us go, all right?"

"You ready?" asked Nightfall, gathering her darkness around her. She'd been learning to do new things -- apparently Harbinger had been working with her, which triggered a momentary flash of jealousy. We're not dating, though, Cloudburst reminded herself, and Nightfall was just training with him. 

The alligator shifted suddenly, almost tipping Florida Man off its back and tilting the cooler dangerously. It settled again almost immediately, having turned its head far enough to regard Nightfall with a gleaming black eye that was nearly as large as she was. She dropped darkness immediately, then gathered it again, slowly. 

Araktul didn't move any further, so she extended a strand of darkness carefully, reaching out to pluck Florida Man from the reptile-god's back. Cloudburst stepped off behind him, riding a column of water back down to the flooded grasslands. Araktul blinked, and they backed away carefully with their prisoner, making their way by starlight. 

"Here, we've got some blankets on the bottom of the boat. Lay him down there, and let's see if we can get out of here without getting eaten." Rachel was still spreading them out when Nightfall lowered Florida Man into place. 

Rachel headed back to the pilot's seat as they climbed back onto the boat. "All right," she said, and fired up the engine while everyone else watch Araktul nervously. "Let's get the hell out of here." 

Music: People Are Still Having Sex

LaTour: 

StV: Florida Man, part twelve

Florida Man stared at her for a long moment, until Cloudburst gave a little shrug. 

"Y'know what, kid? You are stupidly convincing. Honest to God, you just made that sound like a good idea. Thing is, though, I'm not going to jail. I don't have the patience for it." 

Cloudburst sat back with a small nodding motion. "Understandable. You got a plan? Beyond just 'hang out here 'til you run out of beer'? Hoping they won't be looking as hard when you come back out?"

He glared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "No, that was about it. And now you're really harshing my buzz."

"Sorry, sorry," she said, spreading her hands. "Let's talk about something else. Araktul, here... is he some sort of god? Or ancient nature spirit?"

Florida Man nodded. "Something like that. We don't talk talk, but I know he remembers when Florida was completely wild, before all the buildings and roads and whatnot."

"That's... old." She turned that over in her head. She did not want to end up fighting a god, or even a centuries-old nature spirit. It had never even occurred to her that that was a thing that could happen. Especially here, where she didn't think they could call in backup. "All right. You've been pretty straight with me, I think. If you don't want to call me 'kid' then you can call me Cloudburst."

He studied her. "What if I do want to call you 'kid', kid?"

She shrugged. "Go ahead, then. It's not like either of us is using legal names anyway."

"Good point. You're a sharp kid, Cloudburst. You sure you don't want a beer?"

"You know what? If you don't mind, I'll take one. You'll have to open it, though."

Florida Man pulled a bottle out of his cooler, popped the top off with the opener he wore on a leather thong around his neck, and handed it to her. 

"Cool. Be right back." 

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked. 

Cloudburst stood up, stepped to the side of the alligator's back, and called up a column of water to ride back down. "I think we owe Araktul an offering. For letting us be here, y'know?"

"Oh. Good idea." 

She slogged around to the front of the giant alligator, stopped in front of its mouth. "Hey there, Big Guy. I come bearing an offering. Open up? In a not-eating-me kind of way?"

Araktul stirred, and its mouth cracked open. She reached in, wondering if she was about to lose an arm, and poured out the beer. "Thanks for letting us be here."

Then she pulled her arm back out, and slogged back over to the airboat. Steve was staring at her. "Any luck?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I tried selling him on turning himself in, but he says he doesn't have the patience to go to jail. So now we're on Plan B, where I let him drink until he passes out." She looked at Rachel. "You said you packed some supplies. Did they happen to include a deck of cards?"

Rachel grinned. "As a matter of fact, yes." 

A Theoretical Murder

Okay, storytime: 

So we're on a cruise a few years back. It's over Christmas, so the ship is absolutely jam-packed with people -- apparently this is the favorite/worst time to take a cruise. But my in-laws are paying, so we go anyway. Towards the end of the trip, we manage to get tickets to the onboard magic show. 

Now, the magician and his assistant are really good, and I remain jealous of his leather trenchcoat to this day. We're all sitting in a row, but owing to the way we came in it's kind of haphazard... with the result that I'm kind of seated at one end of our group, with my niece on one side of me and Firstborn sitting next to her. 

Anyway, the magician does one of the classic tricks: puts his assistant in a wooden box, sticks a few swords through it, and then saws it in half and swings the two halves apart. At which point my niece, who's about ten years old at this point, leans over to me and stage-whispers: "He killed her!"

And by the dark and forgotten gods, the only way I could think to reassure her was to whisper back, "No he didn't. Not enough blood." 

StV: Florida Man, part eleven

"You old enough to drink?" asked Florida Man, eyeing Cloudburst speculatively. 

"Not really, no," she told him. "Thanks, though."

He shrugged. "More for me. So how'd you get here?"

Cloudburst smiled and motioned for him to sit; they both sat down. The alligator's armor-thick skin was warm with the touch of the sun, but not uncomfortable. "My friend is good at finding things. How'd you get here?"

"Grace of Araktul, I guess." He shrugged. "There was this party, but the cops showed up and I went into the swamp to avoid em. Wandered around a bit, and wound up here. Saw this enormous alligator and did what anybody would'a."

"...Which was what, exactly?"

"Well, I still had a bottle of Jack in my hand, so I poured some in his mouth. Guess he liked it, 'cause we've been friends ever since. Lets me come and go, and even made me... well, so I can be like him sometimes."

Couldburst frowned as she considered that. "You can turn into a giant alligator?"

"Now that would be cool," he admitted. He wasn't bad-looking, just grimy and run-down and worn in a way that made Cloudburst think he'd been living a lot harder than was really good for him. "But naw. It's more... like him, y'know? I can hold my breath for a really long time, or I can make my skin really tough. I can bite right through a beer can, too." He paused. "I'd show you, but, well..." He gestured meaningfully with his beer bottle. 

"Huh," she said. "Okay, that's still pretty cool."

"So what are you and your friends doing out here? No offense, but you seem like a nice kid. Too nice to be hanging around with somebody like me. And you brought the heat with you." He gestured vaguely towards the airboat, and Cloudburst realized he was talking about Steve, the sheriff's deputy. "It's kind of harshing my buzz, to be honest."

"Okay, hear me out," Cloudburst said. "You know you committed a bunch of very public crimes, right?"

He nodded. "I remember parts of that. I was pretty drunk."

"Right, well, in the middle of that people noticed that you had some powers."

"Huh. Okay."

"Well, as someone with powers myself, I'd rather not have the national news associating people with powers with, well, crime sprees."

He considered that, then tossed his bottle away and pulled another one out of the cooler. "Makes sense."

"So what I'd like is for you to come with us, turn yourself in, and then look at maybe getting on some ADHD meds and joining Alcoholics Anonymous."

"No AA," he said immediately, straightening. "That stuff's bullshit. And Araktul here is my Higher Power anyway."

"All right," Cloudburst agreed. "I mean, it's not a demand. But I still think you might have some issues that medication would help."

"Kid... Are you trying to give me advice? I'm twice your age."

She nodded. "And currently wanted by every law enforcement agency in the State of Florida. Seems to me you could use some advice, because I know you could do better. Especially with what you are now."

StV: Florida Man, part ten

Cloudburst said, "Hold here and wait for my signal." She glanced back at Tempest. "If that thing takes me down, you're in charge again... and you might consider just pulling out and coming back with reinforcements." Then she turned to consider the park ranger and the sheriff's deputy. "Whatever happens, you two stay back."

"What... what are you going to do?" asked the sheriff's deputy, Steve. 

Cloudburst swallowed. "Start by asking nicely if he'll come back with us and spend some time in jail." She thought momentarily about Lyceus and the sort of calm confidence he always projected, and tried to channel some of that for herself. "If that doesn't work, I'm thinking I just keep him drinking until he passes out. Then we roll him off the side of the gator, put him in the boat and head back as quietly as we can."

Steve choked off a strangled laugh, then sat down in his seat. 

Cloudburst took a deep breath, then stepped off the side of the boat.  Her costume wouldn't drag, at least; the arms and legs were form-fitting, with a heavier over-layer that covered her torso. Her mask was relatively simple, too: a simple cover for her mouth, nose, and neck, equipped with some air filters and leaving her hair free. 

Atop the giant alligator, Florida Man watched her approach with a bemused expression on his face. He'd opened another beer, and was working his way through it already.

"Hey there," she called quietly, when she nearly there. "You want some company up there?"

"Sure," he said. "You'll probably need to walk up the tail..."

"No, I've got this," she told him, and lifted herself up on a tower of wetlands water until she could step across. 

"Okay," he said. "That was cool. You some kind of nature spirit?"

"No," she told him, "but that's not a bad way to think about it." 

Pause for Station Identification

Whuf. I was going to do the weekly blogging challenge today, but it's about shows you've binge-watched and... y'all, I'm at the point in my ADHD where I cannot binge-watch shows. I can barely keep up with a series, even if I love it. So... maybe not doing that. 

The news stream is unrelentingly bleak, so maybe we're not going to talk about that either.

I'm still writing my meandering way through the Horny Superteens book, and letting all the funky background thoughts spill out here; that's not too bad. 

We have a new kitten; that's a bright spot in all this. Secondborn is currently in the kitchen assembling a cat tower for him. He seems to be getting along reasonably well with the dog, too. (The cat, I mean. Secondborn has always gotten along well with the dog.) So... here, have some pictures of our new kitty:

There. Isn't that much more cheery?

StV: Florida Man, part nine

The first time they turned, the sky darkened. After the second turn, the grass was higher. A dragonfly the size of crow drifted past them, wings buzzing before they made the third turn and it vanished. Something bumped past the bottom of the boat, rocking it in the water, and Rachel swallowed. A slow sweep around to their left completed the transition, as the sky brightened again overhead.

"Okay," said Gaunt uncertainly. "That was..." 

"What the hell was that?" asked Steve the Sheriff's Deputy. He looked like a man trying very hard not to be scared and failing badly.

"I don't know," Cloudburst admitted. "Tempest?"

She shook her head. "I study Anomalies and our powers, not otherworldly travel."

"Okay," said Cloudburst. "First things first. Gaunt, can you get us back out?"

He swallowed, looked around, and then nodded. "Yes, whatever we just did, it's a two-way path."

"Good. Next, can you sense Florida Man clearly now?"

Gaunt nodded immediately this time. "Yeah, he's right over there."

He was pointing to a nearby hillock of some sort, rising out of the water in the midst of the flooded grasslands. There was a man on top of it with a red-and-white cooler beside him, and he'd turned to look down at them before finishing his beer and chucking the empty bottle into the grass behind him. 

"Oh, no," said Rachel, the park ranger. "Oh, no no no no no."

"Holy shit," said Tempest. "It's huge." 

Cloudburst lowered her gaze, and realized what they were all staring at: Florida Man was standing on the back of a giant alligator.  

"Try not to disturb my friend," he shouted, as Rachel powered down the fan. "If he moves, I'll probably lose the cooler." 

StV: Florida Man, part eight

"Hold up!" said Gaunt. 

Rachel let the fan cycle down, slowing them and making it easier to hear. 

"He's... He's behind us somehow. We just went past him." Gaunt looked confused.

Rachel looked around at the expanse of water-soaked grasslands. "Where?"

"Right... right there." Gaunt was pointing. "Sort of. It's still fuzzy."

"There's nothing there," said Steve, looking over the side of the boat as Rachel brought it around. "Son, if you're fucking with us..."

"Shapechanger?" asked Tempest. 

Gaunt shook his head, uncertain. "I'd still be able to sense him clearly at this range."

Cloudburst considered that for a moment. Gaunt's ability to detect him had gone "fuzzy" and he obviously wasn't where Gaunt's ability said he should. "Maybe... Gaunt? Forget about where he is now. Where do we need to go to get to him? Can you point us to that?"

Gaunt straightened and turned to look back at her. "You want me to... Oh. Oh." After a moment he lifted his hand and pointed off to their left -- to Port, Cloudburst thought. "We're going to have to push through the grass a bit," he said, then glanced back at Rachel. "Sorry."

"Can't be a cave," Steve said, but this time he sounded more thoughtful than irritable. 

"No," said Gaunt. "Whatever this is, it's much weirder than that."

"All right, kids," said Steve. "It's your show. I'm just here to finalize the arrest. Show us where to go."

"That way," said Gaunt, "as slow as possible. I've... I've never felt anything like this before, but... there are going to be turns." 

StV: Florida Man, part seven

The Sheriff's deputy was everything Cloudburst had been worried he would be: white, male, extremely fit, and very suspicious of their group. She couldn't entirely blame him for that last one; Rachel had given everyone time to pull their costumes on before he arrived, so none of them were showing their faces. 

"So this bunch of Dev -- of Anomalies -- wants to go help capture their fellow Anomaly?" He looked us over. "Doesn't seem right."

Cloudburst said, "We don't want Florida Man blackening the name of other, decent Anomalies, Sir."

He scowled. "I'd feel better if I could see your faces," he said.

"I've seen you dressed for crowd control exercises," Rachel said gently. "C'mon, Steve, it's not that different. And it's no wonder they want to keep their faces hid, if you're going to be like this."

He looked them over again, then sighed. "No, I guess not. And if we can bring this guy in, that's what counts. I just..." He turned to look at Cloudburst. "I'm sorry. I haven't worked with Anomalies before."

Cloudburst chuckled. "If it helps, we haven't worked with law enforcement before, either.  But with somebody like this, it feels wrong not to help out -- even if we do take some steps to protect our identities."

Steve nodded slowly. "All right. I can respect that. You do right by me, I'll do right by you too. Credit and everything." He was watching her closely.

Cloudburst drew a breath. "I'm not sure we want credit," she said after a moment. "If we get this guy, maybe it's just... arrested by the Sheriff's Department with the help of a group of concerned citizens. I'd appreciate it if you'd let some of your colleagues know that those concerned citizens were Anomalies, but this isn't a publicity exercise for us."

"Huh," said Steve. "All right. I'm in. Rachel, you got the boat ready to go?"

She nodded. "And a few extra supplies in case we need them." 

StV: Florida Man, part six

"Okay first of all," said the park ranger, "no you can't, and second of all, even if you somehow did what the hell would you do then? Armed and extremely dangerous is what every law enforcement agency in Florida is calling him."

Cloudburst said, "Gaunt, would you point towards the park ranger's home?"

Gaunt blinked, looked around for a moment, then lifted his arm. "That way."

The woman blinked, looked at Gaunt, then said, "All right, I'll humor you. Keep pointing." She pulled out a compass, walked over to him, and held the compass under his hand to get a reading. Then she stepped back and pull out a folded paper map. 

"Madre..." Nightfall trailed off. "You just keep a map of Florida on your person?"

"Can't use GPS if you don't have a cell signal," the woman pointed out. "I keep a couple of maps on me, some general and some local." She spread the map out, put her finger on the tower, then put another finger down on a spot in Miami. "All right. I met my best friend at Arch Creek Elementary School. Where's that?"

Gaunt blinked, then shifted his finger slightly to the left. 

"Well, two out of two could still be chance, but... all right. My worthless ex-husband, assuming he's still alive?"

Gaunt shook his head. "If he's alive, he's out of my range. Florida Man was too, when we first got here."

The woman's face softened into a smile. "All right. I was going to pretend that I hadn't heard everything I heard -- I really wasn't trying to eavesdrop -- but can you convince me that you're Anomalies?"

Cloudburst considered that, but only for a moment. "Nightfall, you're in the best position to be convincing without being threatening."

Nightfall nodded, and darkness gathered around them. They could still see the light -- back down the wooden walkway, and out in the grasses -- but in some ways that made it worse, harder to see anything close by. 

"Okay," said the park ranger. "You're all Anomalies. I guess that means you can defend yourselves?"

The darkness lifted, and Cloudburst nodded. "I just don't want to demonstrate anything destructive."

"Well," said the woman, "and don't think I don't appreciate that. I'm still a little worried, though, because -- no offense -- you all look like children to me. Young adults, anyway."

"You aren't wrong," Cloudburst admitted, "but... this pendejo, he's shot two police officers, done a ton of damage, and kidnapped people, even if he seems to forget and let them escape later. If he's an Anomaly like us, then we need to be pushing back against that shit. So we'll find him, and catch him, and turn him over to the proper authorities."

The woman leaned back, studying her. "You're all committed to this?"

Cloudburst didn't look back. She trusted her team.

"All right, then. Good." She smiled. "Today's your lucky day. I'm Rachel, and I can get us access to a boat... and my brother-in-law is a Sheriff's deputy."

Challenge: Favorite Quotes

Prompt: My Favorite Quotes From Books

Oh, so many... Okay, let's start with this one: 

"Life's incessant ceremonies leap everlasting, humans spring eternal on hope's breast, and frying pans without fires are often far between." 
~Roger Zelazny, The Sign of the Unicorn

* * * 

 "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold. But what the Hell, it's home." 
~Roger Zelazny, Shadow Knight (I think. I can't find this one online, and I'm not up to digging through the full five volumes of the Merlin chronicles.)

* * * 

“All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all!"

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

MY POINT EXACTLY.      
~Terry Pratchett, Hogfather

* * * 

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews.)   

StV: Florida Man, part five

"Well, Cloudburst was right," Gaunt said quietly. "We're going to need an airboat." He'd picked up a direction -- still fuzzy, but definite -- for Florida Man again about the time they reached Miami. 

"Or a helicopter," grumbled Nightfall. "Armor, you haven't managed to get your setup to fly yet, have you?" 

Armor shook her head, looking out over the wetlands. "No, jump jets only. And I'm afraid if I tried that out here I might sink right in when I landed." Armor had spent a lot of time getting her suit crafted to her specifications and it was lighter than it looked, but she was still refining the design. "I haven't made it aquatic yet, either."

"That could become a problem," Cloudburst said quietly. "All right, we keep you out of the water if at all possible."

"That would be good," Armor admitted, looking away. "It's not the design, it's the money, you know?"

Cloudburst nodded sympathetically. Shortly after joining the team, she'd taken Armor up on her offer to explain in detail about her powered armor and what exactly it could do. She knew exactly what the problem was, and it wasn't with Armor or her ability to create things. Limitations in power sources and materials were their own issues, but those could be overcome with better designs -- but new designs, and testing and refining them, cost money. Lots of money. Which was why Ms. Salvatore, the Auxiliary Headmistress, had been pulling together investors for a factory to produce and market some of Armor's other designs -- which in turn cost her time to come up with. 

"Pardon me," said a voice behind them, and Gaunt whipped around so fast that for a moment Cloudburst thought he was going for a knife. He must have startled the woman behind them, too, because she took a quick step back, then settled down when Gaunt didn't move any further. 

She was tall, with broad shoulders and thick hips, black hair cut short and styled back... and she was wearing a park ranger's uniform. The woman studied them for a moment, then cleared her throat. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but... you're not thinking about going out there alone, are you?"

"Ah," said Cloudburst. She glanced at Tempest, who swallowed. "Well, not on foot."

"Do I need to explain to you why that's a really bad idea?" 

"I mean," said Gaunt, utterly deadpan, "it probably wouldn't hurt."

The park ranger took him at his word and started ticking off fingers. "You might mess with the wildlife. The wildlife might mess with you. I know it doesn't look like it, but without proper gear and some experience it's very easy to get lost. If we have to do a Search and Rescue, you'll be liable for the costs. Even ignoring the wildlife, the landscape itself is dangerous."

Cloudburst nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. We were trying to figure out how to work around all that."

The woman -- in her early thirties, maybe? -- paused, suddenly puzzled. "Okay, if you know all that, why do you want to go out there?"

Studying the woman's face, Cloudburst made a split-second decision. "Because we can help find Florida Man." 

StV: Florida Man, part four

"Lost him again," Gaunt said. "He's south of us, but... pretty far south."

Nightfall swore softly in Spanish. 

Cloudburst said, "We're coming up on Miami. If I'm reading the map correctly, we can cut through there and follow 9336 further south. Probably close enough for you to pick him up again."

"You're the navigator," said Tempest. "Let me know when to turn."

"Will do." Cloudburst minimized the map on her phone and pulled up the app for their support line again. "Any more news?" she asked. "We're getting close to Miami. Gaunt thinks he located him for a little bit, but he's lost him again. We're head south to try to get closer."

"Florida Man has really gone deep, hasn't he?" said Jinx. "We think he stole a boat in Everglades City and headed east from there, so you're either taking the long way around or you're going to be in a good position to cut him off. There's a manhunt -- law enforcement and park rangers are cooperating -- but so far it doesn't sound like anybody knows where he really is."

"We can work with that," Cloudburst said. "Gaunt said his connection felt... hazy. Any idea what might be causing that, if it isn't just distance?"

"Not off the top of my head," said Jinx. "Have you considered asking Tempest?"

In the driver's seat, Tempest rolled her eyes and shook her head. Cloudburst chuckled. "All right. We'll update again when something changes."

They drove on.

"Cloudburst?" asked Tempest. 

"Yes?"

"Would you try something for me?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I know I just said you were the navigator, but... can you try taking charge for this mission?"

"Testing me?" asked Cloudburst, glancing at the team leader. 

"Testing out a theory," Tempest corrected. "You've worked very well with us during practice. I want to see how we do if we put you in charge during an actual mission."

Cloudburst frowned throughtfully, then glanced back at the trio seated behind them. "Any objections from the rest of the team?"

Gaunt looked at Tempest. "I still think you're good leader," he said, "but I know you've been thinking about this. I'm game to try it out."

Nightfall nodded. "I'm in. I mean, if Tempest cuts in and starts yelling orders, I'll probably do what she says, but I trust her judgement on this, too."

Cloudburst glanced at the remaining member of the team. "Armor?"

Armor looked up from her design pad. "Huh?" She paused. "What was the question?"

Tempest and Cloudburst exchanged a glance. "Do you mind," said Tempest, "if I put Cloudburst in charge of this mission?"

"Oh. No, I don't mind. As long as I get to test the upgrades I made to the armor..." 

Faculty: Puppeteer

Name: Sylvan Tyler Wolfe
Codename: Puppeteer
Age: 28
Appearance:  5'9" with a medium build, dark skin, and tightly-curled black hair that he's grown out to roughly shoulder length. He has brown eyes and extremely white teeth, and smile frequently; his glasses are heavy black plastic.
Job: Theater Director, teaches geography, oceanography, and political science.

Sylvan Wolfe has a very specific sort of telekinesis: while the standard telekinetic tricks work poorly for him (if at all), he's exceptionally skilled at causing mechanisms to move and animating puppets and other articulated figures. Rather than undertaking a life of crime or a heroic crime-fighting career, Sylvan turned his powers to use for his first love: the theater. 

Pensive and bombastic by turns, Mr. Wolfe directs the school's theatrical productions, teaching his students about acting, stage design, lighting, sound, and special effects. He works closely with Glimmer and Anacrusis for dances and related choreography, and sometimes brings in Monk to assist with stage combat. 

When not busy with the theater, he teaches a handful of science classes. He also occasionally builds and deploys various sorts of puppets to assist with training the teams; he takes great pleasure in playing the Mystery Villain during these scenarios. His one weakness, he says, is congenital: he has a dramatic streak a mile wide. Despite that, he is very careful to teach "his kids" a responsible approach to safety in all areas of their theatrical roles. 

He is generally well-liked by the students, even if he occasionally gets a little too enthusiastic about trying to recruit them into the theater program. He is unmarried, and shows no inclination to change that; he claims that he has only ever loved the spotlight, and is married already to the stage. 

StV: Florida Man, part three

"I've got him-- I think." Gaunt sounded uncertain. 

"You think?" asked Cloudburst, glancing back at him.

"We're still pretty far," Gaunt said, "and he feels... fuzzy? Like..." Gaunt shook his head. "Like I'm having trouble focusing on him."

"Some kind of psychic interference?" asked Tempest, but it was clear from her tone that she was wondering aloud rather than asking a genuine question. 

"Maybe," said Gaunt. "Maybe just distance. I've never had anybody screen themselves from me -- except Harbinger, and in his case I can't locate him at all."

"Okay," said Tempest. "Direction?" They'd come down FL-29 before turning west onto US-41, which was apparently also the Tamiami Trail East, heading loosely for Everglades National Park 

Gaunt pointed ahead and to their right. "I think... I think we keep going until we get closer, or I get a better reading."

"I think we're going to need to rent a boat," Cloudburst said quietly. 

Challenge: Fictional Worlds

Prompt: Fictional worlds I'd love to visit

For this one -- and based in no small part on my current reading -- I'd have to go with the world of Villain's Code. It's a world full of superheroes... and the supervillains who have adapted to live alongside them. Despite the potential for disaster if somebody fails to save the day, it has a lot of advantages over the current timeline in the Real World -- plus, there's always the possibility that I might stumble into superpowers for myself! Also, if we're being completely honest, I'd love to have a chance to meet some of the characters from the books; they're all just so much fun.  

...And if I did get powers, would I become a hero, or a villain? Hm. That remains to be seen.

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews.)   

StV: Florida Man, part two

"Okay," said Bridge, speaking into the driver's side window of the van. "I'm going to find a discreet place for you to appear. I'm going to be pretty tapped out after that, so use your comms and keep us posted. We'll have someone on the channel at all times, but it's going to be a couple of hours before I can pull you back or send anyone else to you. Once you've got a lock on your target, get your costumes on and keep 'em on -- nobody shows their face until you're back here."

In the passenger seat, Cloudburst nodded. "If we have to abandon the van?"

Bridge shrugged. "If you have to, you have to. Try to leave it someplace where nobody will bother it for a day or two, and we can fetch it back later if we have to."

He paused, drew a breath, and his gaze went distant. Still distracted, he said, "All right. I'm going to put you through on the shoulder of the highway just a little southeast of Immokalee. All you'll have to do is come up to speed and merge onto the lane, and you'll be headed in the right direction."

The school's front driveway began to fade around them, overlaid with another landscape: a flat stretch of two-lane highway, grassy sand to either side, power lines running parallel to it behind a wall of brush on the right. There wasn't actually a shoulder, but when Bridge said, "Go," Tempest pulled forward onto the sandy ground and began accelerating. 

She was checking the traffic at the same time; fortunately, they had room to merge onto the highway and come up to full speed there. Cloudburst pulled out her phone and tapped the app for an encrypted connection to Team Kraken's support line. "Cell connection out here is crap," she observed, and shut off the camera. "Hey there. We're in Florida. How's Bridge doing?"

Jinx's voice came back, clear and comforting: "I've got him on camera. He's walking back towards the school."

"Good," said Tempest, loud enough for the microphone to catch it. "We're about an hour and a half from Everglades National Park, but maybe twenty or thirty minutes before we start hitting all the nature preserves. Gaunt, do you have a lock on our guy?"

Gaunt shook his head. "Not yet, but I've never been sure just what my range is."

"Well, we may be about to find out. Let us know."

"I'll contact you if we hear anything else on this end," Jinx added. "Also, keep an eye out for reporters -- Florida Man's gone and made national news, and I have an old friend monitoring CJIS info for anything that might help us."

"CJIS?" asked Tempest. 

"Criminal Justice Information Systems," Jinx told her. "It's, um, it's a national law-enforcement information system."

"Ah," said Tempest. "Good to know. All right, we'll keep you posted."

"Please do." 

StV: Florida Man, part one

"This is your target." Jonathan Saint-Vincent tapped a key on his laptop, and then turned to the screen where the projector was showing a mugshot of a scruffy, disheveled man with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes. His blond hair was cut in a mullet, and by his expression he was still half-asleep. "Tom Wilson, white male, age twenty-seven. Calls himself Florida Man. Robbed a string of liquor stores, convenience stores, and gas stations from Miami all the way up to Tallahassee, then shot two state troopers and fled all the way back down into the Everglades. In the process he wrecked four cars, took two people hostage, torched a fireworks stand to create a distraction, and very nearly set a gas station near Fort Myers on fire. Also wanted for tax fraud, dealing drugs, and overdue alimony."

Cloudburst glanced at Tempest, then the rest of the team before she spoke up. "Okay, we get that he's a walking disaster. Why is he specifically our problem?"

"Mainly because he's an Anomaly," Headmaster Saint-Vincent said easily. "He shouldn't have been able to survive those car crashes, but he walked away from all four. Gunfights with the police? Their reports say their bullets just weren't doing what they should have, and at least one officer reports that there was 'something wrong with him, with his face' but wasn't able to elaborate. And then the one night they had him in a cell -- for Drunk and Disorderly, because they hadn't connected him to everything else yet -- something came and busted him out -- right through the wall."

"Ah. So we might not just be capturing him for the authorities," Tempest observed. "He might have an accomplice." 

Saint-Vincent nodded. "That does seem possible," he admitted. "Team Dragon will be otherwise occupied, but we can have Team Phoenix on standby to help you out if needed."

Nightfall caught Cloudburst's eye and nodded. 

Tempest nodded cautiously. "Better safe than sorry, especially since we don't have a good idea of what's going on here."

"And the Everglades can be dangerous, too. So yes, keep in touch and be cautious." 

Colony Planet dreams

Crashed hard and had incredibly weird -- but very narrative -- dreams, probably inspired by the very final scene of Don't Look Up: 

We were on a colony planet. I'm not sure how many people there were, but there were some interesting little details -- the electrical wiring in our rooms hadn't all been hooked up correctly, so if my neighbor switched on his lights, mine went out, for example. (Put in a ticket with Facilities for that one, I guess.) There were snakes that lived in these... basically snail shells... and struck if you set something (a peanut, your toe) in front of the opening. The only good way to kill them was to drop something edible and then behead them when they struck. There were also other, more Earth-normal snakes. 

There were alien ruins and some aliens, who mostly ignored us -- I had the impression that there'd been a hard-negotiated political peace, but I didn't actually dream about that part. Some of the ruins still had active alien tech, too, like the twenty-foot-tall thing that seemed to be half organic and half mechanical. We didn't get too close to that one; it was definitely still moving around. 

There were also monsters: large predators, semi-domesticated by the aliens (or I guess really they were the natives and we were the aliens) in some places, and absolutely feral in others. So there was a very Old West "keep a gun and a knife on you at all times" vibe to the whole thing. Traveling through the semi-forest, even along a trail, was absolutely nerve-racking.  Frankly, so was creeping through the ruins.

All in all I wouldn't say it really went anywhere, but it was a fun bit of unconscious world-building. 

StV: Intruder Response

"Yeah, it was her again." Nightfox looked irritated, while Magehand looked resigned. "The same one Harbinger and I chased off Saturday night. Said she was looking for someone named Omar."

Sophia considered that for a long moment. Today was Wednesday, and it was mid-afternoon -- not an ideal time to break into the school, but then from what she'd managed to read of the reports this Hound had an extremely good sense of smell. Maybe she thought she just needed to get close enough to figure out if her target was here.  

It wasn't hard to figure out who her target was, either. He might not call himself Omar anymore, but Gaunt was the only one here who'd been trained by the hounds. That seemed weirdly out of place, though, considering that the Hounds had been hunting Emma when they first arrived -- but then, if her brother was right, those hounds were being led by the big were-creature. This girl seemed almost to be operating on her own. There was also the Age of Rebirth to consider -- if they were behind the sudden presence of the Hounds, then they probably wanted Harbinger and Jade and Nightmare more than anyone else. Maybe herself and Wrecker as well, and maybe Abigail if they'd even bothered to notice her. Speaking of whom...

"Was that a breach?" asked Abigail, emerging from the woods. The girl was definitely changing as she increased her knowledge and skill with the Art; her eyes had gone the pale silvery-blue of an Alaskan Husky, and her hair had fallen out, with the first hints of fleshy tendrils and a pattern of sharp spikes coming in to replace it. 

Sophia nodded, and turned to Spark. "Should we pursue?"

Spark considered, then shook his head. "Not right now. Not worth the risk of walking into an ambush."

Nightfox hesitated, then said: "She asked me to tell Harbinger to meet her outside the walls. I said I'd tell him tonight."

Spark threw up his hands. "Fine." He glanced Sophia. "We'll send your brother into the potential ambush, and coordinate with Team Phoenix so we can turn the situation if there is an ambush. Same plan as he came up with, basically." He turned to look at Blink. "Are you good with that?"

Blink nodded slowly, running a hand down the front edge of his leather jacket. "Yeah, still good."

Veil said, "Stay close. I'll need to hide your scents, and I can only do that for so many people."

"Should we check with Harbinger first?"

"Don't bother," said Spark. "If Jade asks him to do it, he will." 

A Solitary Hound, part four

"Are you fucking kidding me?" asked a girl's voice. She was covered in black fur and leaning back against tree, while the one-armed young man in front of her had drawn back with a look of surprise. 

"The hell is this?" he asked, warily lifting his missing arm.

"Sorry," said Bloodhound. "I'm still looking for Omar."

"Who the fuck is Omar?" asked the girl, whose flesh was rippling as she extended claws, grew fangs, and slid into a more feline configuration, the shifted towards something more lupine -- or vulpine?

"We used to be friends," Bloodhound said quickly. "Or rivals. Or something."

"There's no way they don't know you came over the wall," the boy told her, looking her over with an intensity that, while not quite hostile, was still threatening. "There'll be a team here to intercept you any minute now."

Bloodhound swallowed. "Sorry, sorry. I just--"

"Would you please go away and let us get back to the kissing?" demanded the girl.

"Um. Okay. I'm going. But... your other friend. Would you ask him to meet me outside? Even if none of you know who Omar is..."

"Fine! I'll tell him tonight! But until then, fuck off!" The girl's claws had slid out to an impressive length, and Bloodhound was suddenly unsure that she could actually take her. 

"Right. Yes. Going now."

She turned and scurried off until she reached the stone wall, then vaulted over it. 

A Solitary Hound, part three

"I really don't like this," Bloodhound said, pacing across her hotel room with her phone pressed to her ear. "I thought I'd be okay with it, but I hate being cut off like this."

"Relax," Hearne advised. He was a Hunter, and her handler, and while he wasn't that much older than she was, his voice was soothing and calm. "They wouldn't have left me with you if they were cutting you loose."

"No, no, I get it, I just..." She was going to start whining if she wasn't careful, and even knowing that Hearne would cover for her the prospect was humiliating. She was an Alpha Hound. She could lead teams, operate on her own,  strip a rifle, clean it, and reassemble it without opening her eyes. She could sniff out Anomalies, claw her way through steel armor, and get targets to give up their secrets without even realizing they'd done it. Why had Mongrel leaving her behind thrown her this far off balance? "I'm going out for a bit. I need a change of perspective."

"All right." Hearne didn't sound worried; he, at least, still trusted her. Most likely Mongrel and Huntsman did too, and she was freaking out over nothing. "Keep your GPS on, and contact me if you need me."

"Will do," Bloodhound said, and started pulling on clothing. She knew exactly where she was going, knew it was a bad idea, and still she couldn't stop herself. She needed this down to the marrow in her bones; she needed to know. 

"Damn it, Omar," she said quietly, and then checked to make sure she'd cut the call to Hearne. Fortunately, she had. It wasn't a disaster, just another small slip to be laid at her once-friend's door.  

Update: Holy Crap, Really?

So apparently Israel and Iran are having a (tentative, delicate) cease-fire, though I still think Trump is leaping in to take credit for something that would have happened anyway and over which he has very little actual influence. It also sounds like Qatar is doing most of the real work here, but it's hard to tell much of anything for sure. 

Also, our President is fucking delusional

I mean, if you've been paying any attention at all this isn't a surprise; dude can barely string a coherent sentence together. But here in his second term (and for that matter during his re-election campaign -- and I'll never forgive the media for glossing this shit over) he's been showing pretty obvious signs of adult-onset dementia. And unlike Reagan, he's neither contained enough to hide it nor surrounded by halfway-sensible advisors who can keep things running semi-smoothly anyway. He's too public, too much of a TV personality, and the fact that he's coming completely unzipped is just... right out there in public. 

By the time this hit the rest of social media, Iran was firing missiles at Israel again. Dude is literally just hallucinating heroic victories for himself. (I'm really hoping that this is a hoax and he never actually posted any such thing, but as far as I can tell that isn't the case and he's really just this far gone.) 

I.

Am.

So.

Tired. 

Annnd then we bombed Iran

So, to be clear: the U.S. is once again committing war crimes by attacking a sovereign foreign nation -- in this particular case, because Israel decided to commit war crimes by attacking a sovereign foreign nation, but I swear to fucking God this happens every single time we get a Republican president in office and I'm going to really need people to quit electing these assholes. 

And by all accounts it was an amazingly sophisticated tactical operation, which is almost a shame since the strategy behind it appears to be 100% bullshit all the way down. Current reports -- the ones that aren't just idiotically repeating the White House's claims, anyway -- suggest that we probably didn't destroy any fissile material, we don't currently know where Iran's supply of it even is, and we've given them a splendid rationale for actively creating nuclear weapons of their own. No point in non-proliferation if the nations making treaties with you are just going to turn around and attack you anyway. 

Plus, we've got our own secret police -- what else can you call them when they show up in masks and refuse to identity themselves in any way? -- kidnapping and disappearing American citizens, legal visitors to the country, and the "good ones" who are seeking legal citizenship while the President is basically trying to sabotage the State of California by pulling the National Guard away from firefighting and having them sit around with their thumbs up their asses in Los Angeles instead. A president whose chief of staff -- the guy currently vetting security for basically the entire Executive Branch -- apparently hasn't submitted any of the paperwork to get vetted himself and probably isn't at all who he says he is. And that's after the unelected druggy billionaire and his cronies got turned loose to data mine government data -- data that's now almost certainly in the hands of anybody who wants it, because these guys have a worse sense of operational security than my younger son did at age six.

I'm so tired. Angry, but also so tired. And I really don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that's it's going to take the country forty years or more to recover from this assault; with this much damage done, we're going to have to rebuild the federal government from the ground up -- and without the collected institutional knowledge of how it used to work. 

On the bright side... My family's healthy, the boys are happy, we aren't struggling for resources (yet -- the tariff bullshit has a pretty long fuse, and disappearing farmworkers is going to have effects downstream sooner or later) and nobody is currently bombing our suburb. If I didn't give a shit about other people, it'd be pretty easy to pretend everything was fine. 

StV: A Solitary Hound, part two

"...If it's thoroughly documented that it's a ruse, sure." Bloodhound met Mongrel's eyes and kept her expression neutral. "I don't like it, but I could do it. But I don't want anybody back home getting the wrong idea."

"Mongrel could write the order," Hearne said, sitting back in the passenger seat and looking at the ceiling. "I could go to ground here too, so you'd still have a channel."

Mongrel and Huntsman exchanged a look. "That could work," Huntsman said. "Especially if he isn't interested in the asset. He's a good-looking kid; it wouldn't be weird if you took an interest in him."

"It's dangerous," Bloodhound said quietly, and looked around as the other three fell silent. "It's... I don't know what it is about this kid, but I keep getting this... He puts my hackles up. He isn't afraid of us. He's dangerous and he knows it."

Mongrel considered that. "We know he regenerates, and he can shake off a tranquilizer. He's strong, but I don't know how strong. Do we know anything else about him?"

Bloodhound shook her head, then looked around to find the two hunters shaking theirs as well. "There's another thing, too. He said we're being played by a group of-- 'rich bastards,' he said --called the Age of Rebirth."

Mongrel's expression remained impassive, so Bloodhound continued: "Maybe Leadership is okay with that, but if they don't know about it... well, I'm passing it up the chain. Make of it what you will."

Mongrel nodded. "Okay. I'll follow up on that and let you know what they find. Start thinking about what you'd do if you suddenly fled the program; the more convincing you are, the better." 

Bloodhound nodded. 

"And Bloodhound?" added Mongrel. "We know more than we did. Good work." 

StV: A Solitary Hound, part one

"Where'd you go?" asked Mongrel, as Bloodhound climbed back into the truck. 

She scowled but didn't look away. "Wanted to take a look at them, even if we aren't moving on them."

"Risky," Hearne observed, probably to cut in ahead of anything Mongrel or Huntsman might say about it. "If they saw you..." 

Bloodhound shook her head. "I went the other way with it. The boy who's a primary target? He's the same one that confronted me at the school, the one I couldn't see in the dark. I let him catch my scent, and he came over by himself, so I spoke to him."

"That's... interesting," Hearne said thoughtfully. 

Mongrel leaned forward. "What did you learn?" he asked, suddenly intent on Bloodhound's face. 

"He doesn't recognize 'Omar' or 'Greyhound', so if our traitor is there he's not using either of his old names." She shook her head. "That doesn't mean much. He didn't react to my description, but that doesn't mean much either -- even if he didn't smell like he was lying."

"We need a way to lure them all out," said Huntsman. "The primary targets, the ones who were at the theater, and the asset."

"Did he seem suspicious of the asset?" asked Mongrel. 

Bloodhound shook her head. "No."

"...Maybe we can use that. Have her pursue a romantic attachment, and use that as leverage to get the target and his friends -- our other targets -- into our reach."

"We'd have to pull out," Huntsman observed, but he didn't sound like he was arguing. "Maybe leave one or two well-hidden assets in place, but if we withdraw in search of better possibilities and Bloodhound meets with this boy to tell him that we're packing up... it could work."

"We could even leave her here," Mongrel said, glancing at Hearne before turning to meet her eyes again. "How do you feel about pretending to go rogue?" 

Music: Fantasy

The band is apparently DyE, and fair warning: part of the reason I'm posting it is that the video leans hard into body horror. 

Music: Suffocate

Kayzo (with Bad Omens):

The Hobbit, as written by Dr. Seuss

I really like my wizard friend
He came to visit me again
He brought twelve dwarves but that's okay
But do not with my dishes play!

They think I should a burglar be!
I'd rather have a cup of tea.
To Lonely Mountain should I go?
I can't decide. Oh no, oh no

We camped and there discussed our roles
But now we're overrun with trolls! 
Gandalf, damn it, where'd you go? 
They're going to eat us, this I know. 

And now the trolls are arguing
A fight that might salvation bring
The sun's first light has touched the sky
And trolls to stone are turned thereby.

We've now arrived at Rivendell
Where Elrond and the Elves do dwell
Our map has secrets yet unsealed
By Elrond's hand they're now revealed

Oh good! We're Misty Mountains bound
Oh bad! By goblins we are found
I'm best off fleeing underground
And lo! This ring was lying 'round

I tucked the ring inside my vest
A strange thing wants a riddle-fest
It turns into a hard contest
...Escaping with the ring is best

Well, twelve dwarves are now impressed
in Beorn's house we take our rest
So on we into Mirkwood go!
Giant. Fucking. Spiders. No.

And now the wood-elves have a quarrel
Into a dungeon, out in a barrel
Laketown's far more welcoming
But much desiring Smaug-slaying

I find the door, the passage in
I find my courage to begin
The dragon speaks; I answer back
See one small space his armor lacks

He's really mad about this cup
He's going to burn Laketown up
The Thrush will bring the warning whole
The dragon and its armor's hole

But Bard has his black arrow ready
His aim is true, his hand is steady
The arrow flies, the dragon falls
The dwarves reclaim their ancient halls

All should be well! We've won the day...
The men demand the dwarves should pay
For damage done unto their town
Thorin scowls and turns them down

And now a siege? The hell is this?
This Arkenstone they shouldn't miss
The men could take this and be done
A reward for a battle won

But wait! Thorin is much dismayed
He says I have the dwarves betrayed! 
He orders me to go away
As Dain, his cousin, arrives today

Gandalf returns but with a warning
The goblins and the worgs are forming
An army 'gainst both dwarf and man
So I guess we're out of the frying pan

The elves have come as well I see
They all ally as armies three
To set the goblin army back
but air support is what they lack

Oh look! We now have eagles too! 
Wings and talons, much to do!
The battle's turned, the goblins broken
And Thorin's final words are spoken

We part as friends, I take small share
For treasure I have little care
Why not more? Gandalf inquires
But this is plenty in the Shires. 

And now my story's done, dear friend
We have reached the very end
I suppose I might a book begin
Of going There and Back Again

StV: Missed Opportunities

"How did it go?" asked Mongrel, leaning back on the bench seat in the back of the unmarked delivery van. 

Bloodhound shook her head as she pulled the back door down behind her. "Fucking disaster," she told the older man. "I didn't get anywhere near the main building. I was coming in through the woods when I heard voices and slipped up into one of the trees. They caught me anyway."

"They?" asked Hearne, who was sitting at one of the computer consoles and studying a map on the screen. He was Bloodhound's handler, and an experienced hunter in his own right even if he wasn't a Hound. 

"A boy and a girl. Might have been some of our targets, actually -- the girl tackled me right out of the tree, and the boy was..." She frowned angrily, but her scent gave her away: for a moment there, Bloodhound had been scared.

"And you didn't gut them?" asked Huntsman, who'd been dozing in the driver's seat until her return. 

"I thought I was going to have to," Bloodhound admitted, "at least for a moment. The girl had claws of her own, and the boy... I couldn't see where he was, in the darkness, and by the time I pinpointed his scent it could have been too late. But no... the boy asked if I was looking for sanctuary, and the girl... she told me if I was looking for somebody, I should show up at the gates in the daytime and ask." 

Mongrel considered that. Bad luck that Bloodhound had been caught, even if the students had turned her loose; it meant that DAAT had overplayed its hand here. Worse luck if those two were among their targets; they'd definitely know if they ran into Bloodhound again. Worst of all, they'd shown restraint; if they were the targets, they were going to be trouble. It was always harder to trap somebody who knew when to stop. 

"So we still have no idea if Greyhound is here," Hearne said. 

Bloodhound grunted something that was almost a growl. "No idea."

"Damn it," said Hearne. "All that wasted potential, and we still don't even know where he disappeared to."

"He's a traitor," Bloodhound growled, and Mongrel nodded his agreement. He hadn't been very keen about bringing another Alpha Hound and her handler in on his hunt, but Bloodhound had been close to Greyhound before he went rogue: rivals, but maybe also friends, after a fashion. He couldn't fault her for wanting in on this; it was the best lead they'd had in two years. 

"We'll get him," Mongrel said. "If not here, somewhere else. Sooner or later he'll make a mistake."

"You know," said Huntsman, "the girl's suggestion isn't bad."

"Who are you calling a girl?" demanded Bloodhound, whipping her head around to look at him. 

"The one who ripped you out of the tree." Hearne was unfazed. "You could show up at the gate and ask about him."

"That--" She hesitated, then nodded thoughtfully. "That might be worth a try." 

Music: Hey Poor

Front 242:

StV: Just In Case You Missed It, part one

"He seems like a good guy," Magehand said, sitting on the edge of the stone railing and kicking his feet. 

Beside him, Nightfox was stretched out along the railing, head resting on her paws, fur black even in the unexpected sunlight that had found this school this afternoon. Her dress was folded up and sitting on a table a few feet away, set aside while she was being a panther. "He is," she said. "I don't... I don't know if it'll ever be anything serious, but he's a good guy."

"You'd like it to be, though," Magehand observed, feigning idleness. 

"I mean... yeah? I'm just not sure whether that's because I like him, or because, well, I'd just like to be part of something serious.  We talked about it a little last night, but... talk about coming from different worlds."

"How do you mean?" asked Magehand, leaning back and then hooking a foot into the carved stone to catch his balance. 

Nightfox hesitated. "Are you sure you want to know? It's... it's a little embarrassing."

Magehand shrugged. "Don't tell me if you aren't comfortable. I mean, I don't actually need to know." 

"No, it's fine," Nightfox said. "You've heard some of the rumors, I'm sure."

"I heard that he and Nightmare tried to kill each other in training." Magehand frowned. "They're teammates now, though. Did that actually happen?"

"Not quite like that," Nightfox said, glancing around. The back porch was mostly empty; most people were at dinner. Haunts was buried in her sketchbook; she might be listening in, but she wouldn't say anything even if she overheard. "They really were just practicing. They're just... both a lot more comfortable with drawing blood than most people."

"Ah," said Magehand. "And people freaked out."

Nightfox lifted her head, studied him for a moment with those piercing green eyes, and then settled back down. "He's not American," she added. 

"I caught the accent." Magehand quirked a grin at her. 

"I think he would have cheerfully slept with me, if that was what I wanted."

"Did you?" asked Magehand, not at all sure if he wanted to know. Maybe he should have changed the subject earlier, but it was too late now.

"Tom," said Nightfox quietly, "when I first transformed into... this... I was still wearing the purity ring my father gave me the year before. I'm only just getting used to the idea that somebody might be... unfazeable enough to be willing to kiss me as I am now. Just... completely different worlds."

"Oh," Magehand said. "Nightfox..." He swallowed and hopped down to the ground, suddenly unable to sit still. "Walk with me?"

She raised her head again, evidently puzzled, then slipped down from the railing. "All right."

They headed off into the woods automatically, following familiar trails that they'd established for themselves. "I don't quite know how to say this," Magehand told her, "but you're selling yourself so short it's ridiculous. You're amazing, and I absolutely guarantee you that Lyceus isn't the only one who'd be willing to kiss you."

"Okay," said Nightfox, sounding dubious. "...Who else?"

"Well... me, for starters," Magehand said. 

"You-- seriously?" Nightfox sounded stunned. 

Magehand nodded. "I didn't think you were interested."

She rose up into the human configuration that she rarely showed to anyone outside their small circle of friends. "I didn't know I could be," she said. "You'd... you wouldn't mind?"

He sighed, thoroughly exasperated. "I guess I should have been more obvious," he said. "No, I wouldn't mind. In fact, I'd be..." Honored. So completely there for it. Enraptured. "...I wish I'd brought it up sooner, before you got entangled with Lyceus."

Nightfox smiled. "He won't mind if I get un-entangled. He's a good guy."