MV3: Discomfort

London Fish turned out to be a good choice for a meeting: a small, quirky seafood place with plenty of windows and a good view of its surroundings, it had been converted from an older house and still looked to have living quarters on the second floor. On a Tuesday night, it was only moderately full, and Amy's family was easy to spot: they'd taken a table towards the back, sitting together and looking over the menus. 

Andy turned towards them, noting that Chante, Sal, and Tab had been seated at a table nearby -- not that there was anything in this restaurant that wasn't nearby. Brickhouse She was watching from a van parked outside, and Andy hoped she was comfortable. 

He approached reluctantly, paused to look at the three humans, and then drew back a chair and settled into it.

Donald Black looked much as always had: dark-haired, pale-skinned, blue-eyed, and well-dressed. He was some sort of supervisor at Lockheed Martin, a former engineer, and he and Andy had never really connected -- though Andy had liked him well enough. Connie Black was black-haired, dark-skinned, and brown-eyed; Amy had taken after her. She used to smile when Andy came around; now she just sighed. Thomas was likely to be the problem here -- he was dark-haired like his father, olive-skinned and blue-eyed, and he glared at Andy like he wanted to commit murder then and there.

Then he really focused, and did a huge double-take.

"Yeah," said Andy. "This is me, now. I didn't live through them either. I just happen to be dead and walking around, instead of cleanly dead."

Thomas had been two years ahead of him in school; he'd already graduated when Andy and Amy first started dating. "You're really him?"

Andy sighed. "When I first started dating her, you warned me I'd better not hurt her. I promised you that if I did, it would only be by accident." He looked at Connie. "You always made the very best cookies, and looked like you just wanted Amy to be happy." 

Donald grunted, and Andy shifted to face him. "I never quite knew how to try to talk to you. I tried to help out with the grilling on the Fourth, but you shooed me away."

Donald grunted again, but nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe that was my fault. My baby girl, you know?"

Andy shook his head. "I felt that way about her, too." There. He didn't know how to be any more clear than that. "And then we were studying in the living room, and these things busted in the door and killed us, and now I'm one of them."

"You better have tried to protect her," Thomas half-growled. 

"How?" asked Andy, then swallowed and held up a hand. "No, I'm sorry. I tried, but they were well above my weight class. Judith only survived because they were busy with us, and she hid. If I'd known they were coming and had a ton of magic bullets, I might have been able to do something. I wish..." He swallowed. "I wish I could have gotten her out." 

"Thomas," said Connie. "He's right." She looked at me, then sighed. "I did some research. You're stronger now, aren't you?"

I nodded, reluctantly.

"A lot stronger. And the ones involved in the attack would have been stronger than that."

I nodded again. "Yeah."

Thomas sat still for a very, very long time. Finally he looked up and asked, "What do you think, Dad?"

Donald shook his head, then met my eyes. "I wish she hadn't gone over to your house," he said. "But my beautiful wife--" He reached over, and squeezed her hand. "--is right. It's like wishing she hadn't gotten hit by that drunk driver."

I sat back, and then realized that a waitress was standing beside us. "Um," she said, and cleared her throat. "Are you ready to order?" 

MV3: Reunions

Charleston by night was still beautiful, the flowers just starting to bloom and the waters, while cold, still welcoming. Andy didn't venture out to fully explore it; Chante wanted him under guard in his room, and he couldn't argue. The handsome man in the fitted suit had turned out to be a demon, Sal A. Czar, and the massive woman said she was one of the nephilim -- Brickhouse She. Tab turned out to be a nature spirit, her coat embroidered with colorful feathers, quiet and watchful. 

The Authority had confirmed that Amy's family was in town. The meeting was scheduled for the Chubby Fish, shortly after dark. 

"I don't like this," Chante said, looking out the window of the hotel. She'd sent Tab out to look the place over while it was still daylight, but she still looked nervous.

Andy stirred from where he was reading on the bed, and said: "I only agreed in order to get them off my family's back. I honestly don't like it either, but I don't want to call it off."

"We'll see it through," she assured him. "I just hope this Titus Anthropicus doesn't manage to show up."

Andy considered the gun under his pillow. "Kill him if he does," he said quietly. "I don't care if he takes me down with him, I want him dead."

Chante turned to look at him. "Yeah, well, our remit is to keep you alive, so I do care. Don't put yourself in the line of fire."

Andy nodded. "All right," he said, and went back to his book. 

MV2: Private Plane

"Andy?" asked the ghost, as he stepped out of the car. She was unfamiliar, and accompanied by a handsome man in a fitted suit, the holster under his arm visible but not glaringly obvious.

Andy nodded, and Mr. Siegel opened the driver's door and stepped out. "This is him."

"Good," the ghost nodded. "Tab's checking over the crew, so once she's done we can be on our way."

A massive figure strolled over from the hangar doors, wearing what must have been a custom suit. She was easily eight feet tall, and heavily enough built to seem even larger. She'd disdained a suit jacket in favor of a trench coat, but still wore a button-down shirt with her slacks. 

"Chante," said the ghost, holding out a hand. 

Andy shook it, ignoring the sudden chill, and nodded. "Andrew McFall -- Andy." He raised his voice slightly, so the other two could hear. "Mr Siegel... thank you." 

The wolf nodded. "I'll let Mr. Carillo know you made it this far safely."

Andy turned back to the ghost. "You're my... security detail?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I don't know who you are, kid, but the Authority sure seems to have taken an interest."

"Genuinely no idea why," Andy told her. "I'm a newly-turned wight, nobody important when I was still alive, and nobody important among us others either."

Chante studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. "No idea," she admitted. "But we have our orders, so off we go."

The massive woman huffed a laugh. "Just like always."

The handsome man in the custom suit smiled. "Once more unto the breach, whatever that turns out to be this time."

Andy nodded. "Glad to have you along." He followed them onto the plane as Mr. Siegel turned the sedan around and headed back for the academy. 

Valthor: A Pirate With A Vision

Valthor hadn't honestly expected to like the admiral, but then he'd been surprised before and at least this one was pleasant. Borith Cove was practically designed to be a pirate city, with a narrow, defensible channel leading into a sheltered cove and plenty of ships and crews to defend it. It had plenty of docks, plus its own shipyards -- and, it turned out, a whole set of farm plots run by widows whose husbands had been lost at sea. It wasn't quite enough to make island self-sufficient, but it looked to be well on its way. 

They'd found the admiral in the inn on one of the pair of islands at the center of the cove, and almost accidentally had confirmed that Captain Razin of the Gloamshine -- the boat they were currently traveling on -- counted himself among the pirates. As far as Valthor was concerned, that was fine; as freebooters went, they didn't seem to be especially evil or destructive. They'd certainly worked hard enough in trying to get the elves and orcs to their negotiations.

So now the four of them -- he, Rrhorask, and Tizrin of the Adventurer's Guild, along with a priest named Sy -- were exploring the town at the admiral's instruction. In person, she had turned out to be a drow elf -- which might have been awkward at sea, but worked well enough since her particular admiralty was over the town of Borith itself. Or, possibly, the whole island, but Valthor didn't think so.

So far, they'd met the captain of the Widows' Farms -- a rather friendly halfling -- and the captain of NewTown, which ironically was no longer especially new. She was a Tortle, already older than anything Valthor expected to live to see, and apparently the center of a network of information-gathering. Now they were on their way to where the admiral was having the old fort atop the hill rebuilt. He was looking forward to seeing it.

 

MV2: Meet With The Mortals

"They're insistent," Mr. Carillo told him, and Andy chuckled, then managed not to sigh. "They want to meet with you in person. Make sure you're not some kind of AI hoax."

"Where?"

"My supervisor is suggesting that we go long and try Charleston. Keep them, and you, well away from here. Plus, if your maker is still looking for you, he's unlikely to look east."

Andy considered that. "Not the worst idea I've ever heard. Any chance we can get the original team to oversee the meet -- Steve, Veronica, and Rodney?"

Mr. Carillo shook his head. "They're busy with something else. There's another crew available, though. Well-rated, reliable."

"Fine." Oh, this is such a bad idea and I so very much do not want to do this. "Let's get it over with."

Mr. Carillo studied him for a long moment. "All right. I'll call it in and get it set up. Anybody you want to take with you?"

This time, Andy sighed loudly. "No. Nobody here I'd want to put at risk."

He sat back and closed his eyes as Mr. Carillo solidified and picked up the phone on his desk. In half an hour it was settled: a meeting, two weeks from now, in London Fish in Charleston, South Carolina. Andy would be taking a private plane, so he wouldn't have to go through airport security or present any sort of identification; the security team would meet him when he boarded. And meanwhile Amy's family would get a free trip to another city, which... he hoped they weren't too far gone to appreciate it. He'd never been to Charleston himself, but it sounded lovely.

MV2: Progress

The early-evening Spades game expanded to include the wolves Jürgen and Sam W, the ghost in the trench coat and fedora who called himself Ace -- "from A.C., as in Air Conditioning" -- and a vampire who was calling herself 2 Claudia as if she were a book in the bible. When Y.T. joined as well, Andy found that he could rotate himself out, or let one of the others do it instead if they didn't feel like playing.

Online classes remained one of the more pleasurable parts of his nights; he hadn't been lying about enjoying school.  He'd raced through the early bits, and caught up to his current studies, then kept going. Mr. Carillo was pleased with his progress; so was Andy. He'd even added a couple of extra courses on the side. 

Self-Defense For Monsters was interesting. The shared curriculum was pretty standard: unarmed combat, a mix of striking and grappling; melee with a variety of weapons, starting with knives, bats, and staves; and finally guns. Trainer Jim would then split them off into more specific things: fangs, for those who might make bite attacks; claws, for those who had them; and making use of incorporeality for Dana Z, the ghost in the class. Maria OG and Tom started showing up as well, and it turned out that Maria could call out very effective claws, while the black-eyed child Tom... 

Tom could reshape flesh, take control of minds, and do other things as well. Physically, he was as frail as the child he resembled, but Andy noted that Trainer Jim was careful not to put him in direct combat. "He says I should keep my distance," Tom explained, as they were heading back to the dormitory near dawn. "I can shoot people, or use powers, but I shouldn't try to hit people or wrestle or anything like that."

"Makes sense," Andy had admitted. "That's some powerful stuff."

Tom had looked proud, and Maria OG had looked grateful.

It turned out the Academy kept a herd of cattle behind the main complex, mostly cows but some sheep as well. It was part of how they funded the place, but it also allowed a lot of the monsters to feed without the need to rotate regular humans in and out the way the Authority had done for him at the hospital. For Andy, that was a profound relief; he could age a cow just a bit, not worry about overdoing it with a human or another monster, and still be reasonably well-fed. 

The wolves, the two nature spirits, and the black-eyed child could all eat regular food and be satisfied with that. The vampires could drain blood from the cattle, and Agrat B could drain their life force without killing them -- much the same as he and Y.T. could.  Maria OG was the odd one out there: as a ghoul, she needed dead flesh, preferably human, to sustain her. The small cemetery at the edge of the property wouldn't have supported her for more than a week -- it was mainly used for wights and similar to speak to the dead, or raise them temporarily. 

Andy had no idea what sort of arrangement the Authority had come up with, but while Maria OG was willing to tell him about her needs, she always ate in private and she always looked... sad, afterwards. Andy wished he had any idea how to comfort her about that, but he didn't. The best he could do was not judge her.

MV2: Amy's Family

"We have an... interesting issue," Mr. Carillo said quietly. They were sitting in his office, a small room in the central building of the compound.

Andy waited. 

"It's your girlfriend's family: they're asking to see you. They want to hear the story from you."

"No."

Mr. Carillo sighed. "We told them it wasn't safe, but they say they don't care. They're not dropping anything until you meet with them."

"I could call them, but meeting in person? They know I'm being hunted, right?"

"Our people did try to explain."

Andy sighed. "Would the Authority even be willing to set that up? I mean, we'd need a safe location, security, I don't even know what else. Some ethical way to keep me fed, I guess. That's money and resources."

"And still a risk," Mr. Carillo added softly. "It might be the only way to get them off your family's back, though."

"Could we set up a video call?"

Mr. Carillo cocked his head at that. "...I'll ask."

Andy nodded. He didn't want to see Amy's family -- didn't want to talk to them at all. Her death was a dull, persistent ache in his chest, and the thought of hashing it out with them just made the pain more acute. But if that was what it took, he'd do it.

MV2: Rebuilding

"You don't actually have to do that," Trainer Jim said, and Andy turned to face him. "I can just order more. They aren't that expensive."

Andy shrugged. "It makes me feel better, especially since I didn't get permission before I broke them." He was in the woodshop, carving and fitting another pair of training dummies to replace the ones he'd broken.  

"Ah," said Trainer Jim. "Then you're not going to want me to help out with them, either."

"Nope." Andy shook his head. "They're... kind of crude, but they should still work."

"They'll be fine."

When Andy looked up a few minutes later, the trainer was gone.  

MV2: Spirits and Spades

Maria OG opted out of the game, claiming to prefer watching a bit more television to playing cards, which surprised Andy a little bit. He was less surprised when Tłʼóoʼdi suddenly appeared and took a seat at the table. She was dressed in a bright green skirt and top, with a cape of feathers thrown over her shoulders, and she studied Andy for a long moment as he cut the cards. He was suddenly very aware that he was dealing with newborn spirits here; it wasn't like the wolves, who'd all had prior life experience and then become monsters."Everybody good with numbers?" he asked quietly. 

"I can count," Tom said quietly, then glanced nervously at the other two. 

They nodded, so Andy asked, "And how a standard deck of cards is counted?"

Tłʼóoʼdi looked puzzled, so Andy launched into an explanation of the suits, the numbers, the face cards... and how all that fit into the rules for Spades. "So the way this works is that four of us are two teams. I'm sitting across from Tłʼóoʼdi, so we're one team. Divvy and Tom, you're the other team. What you need to do now is make your best guess about how many hands you can win with the cards you're holding; that's your bid. There's a rule called 'sandbagging' where you lose points if you win too much more than you predicted, but we're going to ignore that for now."

He dealt the cards, then sat back to let everybody write down their bids. Tom nodded seriously, studying his cards, then turned them towards Andy. "What should I do with this?"

Ahhhhh... Andy shook his head. "I mean, first of all, you're really not supposed to show your cards to anyone else, especially the opposing team. But all right, first time out, we'll just walk through it." He laid his own cards out on the table, face up. "With what I'm holding here, I think I can take three hands. Tłʼóoʼdi, will you show us your cards?"

She laid hers down just as he had, and cocked her head as she studied him. 

"All right," he said. "With what you're holding, I'd say you can probably take four. Tom, if you play it right I think you can do the same. Divvy, do you want to show us, or keep yours hidden?"

"Hidden," said the spirit. "That's what keep the game interesting, right? Not knowing what the other players are holding?"

"It is," Andy acknowledged, "but since this is our first game there's nothing wrong with looking at the strategies openly."

"Even so," said Divvy. "I believe I can take five."

"All right," said Andy, and wrote it down on the notepad he'd grabbed from the shelves. "Let's find out."

He picked his cards back up, and Tłʼóoʼdi and Tom did as well.  

"Trust your partners," he advised. "You don't have to put down the card you think is most likely to win a hand, if you think your partner has one that will do it or if you think what they already put down will take it. If you're sure your team is going to lose a particular hand, you can use it to get rid of low-value cards that you know won't win anything."

He wasn't terribly surprised when Tom and Divvy took the first game. Advantage of surprise, and all that, he thought, smiling. "Well done," he said. "Tłʼóoʼdi, well played. It didn't go our way, but you have the idea now. When we play again, nobody shows their cards -- and maybe we can kick their asses, metaphorically speaking."

The woman in the cape of feathers smiled at him. 

MV2: Spirits of the Land

"Oh, hi," Andy said automatically, stopping to study the dark-skinned man in the hallway. 

He was dressed in a swallow-tailed coat and a top had, with an enormous, garish feather affixed to it. Of the two newborn nature spirits, he was the one most often visible; the other one preferred to remain unseen most of the time. 

The man hesitated. "You're a wight," he said. 

Andy nodded. "Andy." They'd been over this in their early-evening group meetings, but maybe it needed to be reiterated. "And you're Divvy."

The spirit nodded. Like the black-eyed child Tom, he had a solid, physical presence despite his origins; the hand he offered felt like, well, a hand when Andy clasped it. "Where you at on environmental stuff?" he asked. 

Andy chose his words carefully. "Conservationist," he said after a moment. "I mean, leave some room for camping and hiking, but keep the natural beauty in place. Otherwise, why bother with the camping and hiking?"

Divvy nodded and grinned. "Baby steps," he agreed. "Like to see the whole continent returned to its natural state, but that ain't gonna happen."

Andy nodded softly. "Does seem a pity sometimes. You up for a game of cards? Maria OG and Tom are usually up by now, and I've been trying to teach them to play Spades."

Divvy laughed. "Sure, I'm in. All you had to do was ask."

Andy chuckled. "I've been trying to take it slow," he said. "Several reasons."

"No need to explain," answered the spirit. "Come on. If your friends don't want to play, maybe you can show me and Tłʼóoʼdi."

MV2: The Second Call

"Andy?" asked Mr. Carillo. 

Andy frowned. He'd only just gotten out of bed, and it was still daylight outside; early spring, but bright and crisp. "Yes?"

Mr. Carillo held out a cell phone. "Your  family called back."

"Ah." he put them on speaker, then said, "Hello?"

"Can we see you?" asked his mother, immediately. "Even if you're..."

"I looked up some information on wights," Judith put in. "Like, we know how you probably look now."

The sound Andy made was something like, "Ahhhgh--" He looked to Mr. Carillo, who said: "We could probably arrange something, but doing it without endangering you or your family would be... tricky."

"Maybe," Andy said into the speaker. "I don't know if you heard that, but... Like I said, the guy who killed me is still looking for me, and he wouldn't hesitate to use any of you as hostages. Or to murder you outright, if he had half a reason for it. I think the Authority would authorize social media contact -- assuming we can all be very discreet -- but I think it's better to keep my distance for now."

His father said, "That's... definitely better than nothing."

Judith sounded momentarily scared. "I don't ever want to see those things again. I have nightmares about them."

"I don't want them anywhere near you," Andy affirmed quietly. "Or me, really, but I'm the one they were looking for."

"But you're okay, right?" asked his mother. 

"I'm good," he replied. "We're working on feeding -- so far I have pretty good control of it -- and I'm finishing up high school online, and we're looking at self-defense after that, even though we're pretty safe here."

"That's... that's good, Honey. I'm proud of you."

Andy nodded, and managed not to rub at his eyes by an act of will. "If the situation changes, I'll let you know." 

They fell to more day-to-day issues after that -- how Judith was doing in school, how Andy liked his classmates, his dad's frustrations with his job as an engineer, his mother's taking a break from her career as a nurse. It was good to just talk about daily life -- a reminder for Andy that life went on, and maybe a reassurance for his family that he was still doing well even after the tragedy. 

When he finally hung up, it was full dark and time to get back to his studies. 

MV2: Practice Dummies

Trainer Jim -- apparently the werecougar's name was James Trainor -- had set up a a dozen or so wooden training dummies behind the classrooms building. Andy had already demolished three of them, with a combination of barehanded strikes, basic claws, and the longer claws of a wight. He knew there was a woodshop on campus; he'd have to build more to make up for it, but right now he needed to break things. Hitting the punching bag in the gym just hadn't done it for him. 

"Hey," said a soft voice behind him. 

Andy spun around, and found himself looking at Sam W -- Samantha Wolfe, she was calling herself, having apparently been turned in her late forties. He thought there was a joke to it, but he didn't get the reference. She was the werewolf who'd asked about shooting guns, though. 

She held her hands up and he put his claws away.

"Hey," she said again. "It's not really any of my business, and I'll go away if you want, but... are you all right?"

He shook his head. "No. No, I am so very much not all right."

She nodded. "You want to talk about it?"

He sighed, looking at the scattered bits of wood that had been three practice dummies, and the gouges in a fourth one. I should stop now, while there are still enough left for the class to use. Did he feel better? He wasn't sure, but he thought so. "I'm taking classes online to finish high school."

Sam nodded. "You mentioned that while we were waiting for movie night one time."

"Yeah, well... Internet connection. So I opened up social media, and saw... what my family is going through right now. Kind of had a meltdown."

"That's... how bad is it?"

"My family was in mourning. My girlfriend died in the same attack where I was turned, and her family is... turning their grief to anger. At everyone, including my family, the school... and particularly my sister, who survived the attack by hiding in her room and calling for help."

"Oh." Sam paused for a moment, picturing that. "Jesus. That's..."

"Yeah. That's why I've been hiding in my room for the last three days. Mr. Carillo arranged for me to call my family and let them know what's really going on, but I think I'm going to have to talk to Amy's family too. I've asked the Authority to give them more information about what happened, and how little chance any of us had of stopping it." He turned away, then turned back. "I thought I was okay, that I was handling all this, but then it all caught up to me and I'm... not."

"Andy... You're still calling yourself Andy, right? ...it's okay. You're allowed to freak out." Sam hesitated, then said, "God knows I did. If I hadn't been presumed dead, I'd owe the apartment complex a few thousand dollars in damages. At least all you did was hide away for a little while, and break some things that were built to be broken."

Andy sat down on the grass. "Thanks," he said.

Sam moved cautiously closer, and when he didn't object she sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. "I don't know if we're friends, exactly," Sam said carefully, "but I like you, and as far as I know the others do too. We've been lucky; no real assholes in this class, even if we do have our own issues. As far as I can tell, you're doing just fine. Plus, I owe you for getting us started on self-defense training. So if there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

Andy nodded. He didn't like asking for help; he never had. But the offer was genuine, and maybe it was time to consider that mutual support was supposed to go both ways. "Thank you," he said quietly. 

MV2: Family Reunion

"Andy?" asked his mother. "How... Where are you?"

"Colorado, I think. I didn't ask." 

She gave a shaky laugh. "They said you were dead."

"When I was very young, I had a stuffed turtle that went with me everywhere. When Grandpa passed on, I asked if I could leave it in the coffin with him, to keep him company."

"Holy shit," said his father, clearly audible over the phone. "How is this even...?"

Andy sighed. "I wasn't supposed to get in touch with you. I really did die. And then three days later I came back as a wight, because that was what killed me. The Authority has a whole system for dealing with situations like this, and they've been doing their best to teach me how to live as... something like this. Not quite human, not quite alive."

"But you are alive," said Judith. "I mean, you called, you're talking to us."

He nodded, knowing they wouldn't see it. "You wouldn't recognize me, though. I look dead. I don't have a heartbeat. That's why I didn't come back home."

"Son..." His father cleared his throat. "Come home anyway."

Andy hesitated, then shook his head. "I can't. The thing that killed me is still looking for me. I can't risk leading it to you."

"What about Amy?" asked Judith. "Any chance that she...?"

"No. A clean death, I was told. And I think if she'd been reborn the way I was, they'd have kept us together."

Mr. Carillo nodded at that. 

"Oh." Judith sounded sad. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault you survived, Sis. You were smart, and lucky. Amy and I were... right in the line of fire. Dumb fucking luck, but there it is."

"Andy," his mother said. Then, a moment later, she continued with, "Never mind. It's not like your little sister has never heard curse words."

"Yeah, I know about those, Mom," said Judith. "I do watch YouTube."

"All right," said his father. "If you can't come home, and you were supposed to be dead, why call us?"

Andy hesitated for a long moment. "Because I thought it would help more than hurt. I might be dead, technically, but you'd still want to know I was all right -- and so far, I am. I can't imagine that this was any harder for me than it was for you, but... Listen, I'm still out here and I still love you guys. I worry about you."

There was a long silence, then his father burst into tears. His mother said, "I think... this was a lot. Can we... can we take a little while to sit with it, and then maybe talk to you again?"

"That might be a really good idea," said Andy, who was feeling more than a little overwhelmed himself. "Just... before I go... Judith?"

"Yeah?"

"You did the right thing. You stayed in your room and called for help, and it kept you alive. I don't really know how you're holding up, but I think you living through that was vital for Mom and Dad. You understand? And for me. You couldn't have changed things, and hiding wasn't cowardice. It... it was survival. Be proud of yourself, Sis, okay? Even if it's hard."

Judith sniffed. "I wish I could have saved you."

"I just told you: I think you did." He ended the call before he could say anything else, and stood for a time just staring down at the phone. His family doubtless had the number now and could have called back, but they didn't. He suspected they needed some time to adjust just as much as he did.  

MV2: Casting Oil On Troubled Waters

It took a few hours to get back on his feet, but when Tom threw his arms around Andy's waist he was glad he'd done it. Mr. Siegel was one of the wolves and one of the teachers, and willing to endanger himself by letting a starved wight feed off of him. Andy was starting to realize how much more life could be gained from other monsters than ordinary humans, and scaled his feeding down to suit. The beast stirred, but didn't rise. 

"You can't just give up," Tom said, looking up at him with those eerie black eyes. "Not when I don't even know where I came from."

Andy nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. I've just been... I think it all caught up to me."

Tom nodded. "Better now?"

"Not yet," Andy admitted. "But I'm willing to consider that it could be."

"All right," said Mr. Carillo. "Your voice shouldn't have changed much, and I've got a call going through to your family."

Andy stepped up, took the phone in a grip that should have broken it, and waited until an unmistakable voice said, "Hello?"

"Judy?" he asked quietly. 

There was a long moment of silence. Then his sister asked, "Am I supposed to believe that you're Andy?"

"Not really," he said, thinking fast. He was suddenly proud of his little sister for being suspicious that this might be a scam. "You remember those stupid banana-shaped earrings that I got you last Christmas?"

"Worst gag gift ever."

"Yeah, but you did wear them to school." 

"The uniform shirts are bright yellow. They matched."

"Okay, look. Put the phone down, go into my room, and look under the far left corner of the bed. I had a box back there."

Judith hesitated, then said: "All right, wait a moment."

When she came back a few minutes later she asked, "Condoms? Why did you want me to know you had condoms. Were you and Amy--?"

"I didn't want you to know. It was just the most secret thing I had -- the best way to prove that I'm me."

There was a long pause. "Andy?" Judith asked. 

"Yeah," he said. "I died. But I was killed by a wight, and I came back as one. I don't look... much of anything like you remember."

"But you're alive." 

"Sort of. And I am so, so grateful that you are really truly no-shit alive." Andy hesitated. "Can you find Mom and Dad? And put this on speaker?"

"No bullshit?" she asked suspiciously. 

"No bullshit." 

MV2: Hard Wall

There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Carillo's voice called, "Andy? Are you in there?"

And groaned and rolled over. "Go away," he called back. 

"Ah," said Mr. Carillo, a little more softly. "May I come in?"

Andy considered that. "If you must."

There was a brief burst of mist, and Mr. Carillo was inside the door. It remained closed, and locked, behind him. "Andy..."

"I'm taking a break," Andy said. 

"You haven't been out of your room in three days," the ghost pointed out. "You need to feed, at least."

"No," he said deliberately, "I don't. I need to wither, and fade, and move on."

"Andy," said Mr. Carillo, soft but intense, "What happened?"

He sighed. "I checked social media. My little sister's in shock -- and therapy, at least. My parents are grieving and sound like they might get a divorce. Amy's family -- she was my girlfriend -- are looking for somebody to take it out on, and with the Authority blocking them they're going after the people in my life: my parents, our teachers, the school... as if Amy should never have been allowed to come over, even if it was her decision, as if I could have done anything more to protect her, as if it's Judith's fault that she managed to survive when we didn't. She's fourteen, Mr. Carillo. She's not equipped to deal with this." He rolled over to face the wall. "Just seal me in and let me rot here."

"That won't kill you," Mr. Carillo told his back. "It might drive you mad, if you're lucky, but it won't kill you."

Fine, then I'll kill myself. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it. "Just go away."

The ghost actually sighed. "Not yet. I don't think we can afford to lose you. Y.T. seems to find your presence reassuring; Maria OG, Judgement, and Tom genuinely like you -- they were the first to ask after you -- and even the wolves respect you. They know you've fought."

Andy frowned, but rolled back over. "Then you're going to have to stage an intervention," he said, quietly. "Not with me. Tell the Gordon family what really happened, how little chance we had of stopping it, and get them off my family's back. Figure out if letting my family know I'm still around, even undead, would help or hurt. Get some restraining orders if you need."

Mr. Carillo hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. "All right. Will you come out and feed?"

"If it will help fix this," said Andy, flinging the blanket back and coming to his feet. 

"All right. I'll have to make some calls, so bear with me." 

MV2: A Hypothetical Job Offer

"Would you like to work for me?" asked the demon. "I could use an enforcer, and Y.T. already said no."

Andy frowned, studying her. She was just a little shorter than he was, beautiful despite the reddish tinge to her skin and the short black horns growing out of her temples. Her blouse had been adjusted to accommodate the wings on her back, and she was studying him in a way that suggested measuring his worth.

He wondered if it would be worth the effort to stab her, then said: "Ask me later. I'm not making any career decisions right now."

She shrugged. "You're going to miss your chance to get in on the ground floor. Once I've finished adjusting to this realm, I'm going to go big. I'm already making plans."

"Do your plans include a name?" he asked. "I'm Andy."

"Agrat B," she told him. 

"All right. Well, if you want to conquer the world or whatever, keep in touch. Just 'cause I'm not ready to commit now..."

"I'll keep it in mind," she conceded. "If conquest doesn't work, I might try starting a record label in LA."

Andy blinked. "I've heard worse ideas," he admitted.

MV2: Wolves and Claws

"Andy, step over here." Jim was sandy-haired, grey-eyed, and evidently could turn into a mountain lion; he had been brought in for their combat training. He wasn't tall, but he was solidly built and moved with a dancer's grace. 

Andy rose, crossed to the center of the roped-off training area, and positioned himself where the werecougar indicated. Y.T. watched him from the edge of the impromptu ring; so did the three werewolves, a ghost, and one of the vampires. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was worried about self-defense -- not by far. 

"Good. Jürgen, if you'd be so kind...?" One of the wolves rose, stepped into the arena, and planted himself opposite Andy.

"You've done some wrestling, haven't you?" asked Jim, and Jürgen nodded. Of the three wolves, he was the one who seemed most at peace with his condition, happiest at being a monster.

"Excellent," Jim said. "Keep your human form, and wrestle with Andy, here."

Jürgen came in immediately, tangling arms and trying for a lock; Andy countered, sweeping him up and carefully not breaking his back across his knee. Jürgen came to his feet, growling softly.

"Stop," said Jim. "So, this is the first lesson: don't underestimate your opponent. Jürgen, I deliberately set you at a disadvantage, and I apologize for it. But you need to understand that while both of you were athletic as mortals, wights -- in general -- are roughly as strong as wolves in our full-wolf form. And unlike us, they are that strong all the time."

Jürgen shifted to his half-wolf form.

"Good," said Jim. "Andy... claws."

Andy called out his claws, then called out the longer versions of them, hands and feet alike.

"Wights can have longer claws than we do as well," Jim said quietly. "Where we have an advantage, if we can use it, is that we can bite." He sighed. "Sit back down, both of you."

Andy went to sit back down, and Jürgen -- after a momentary hesitation -- did so as well.

"Combat is situational," Jim continued. "You want any advantage you can find. Claws, fangs... pick up a weapon if you can. Be aware of your surroundings, and it's best if you have friends beside you. Working together will give you advantages that raw strength or speed can't match." He hesitated. "That assumes you haven't had time to plan in advance, but we'll deal with more deliberate combat later. Right now, we're looking at situations where you have to defend yourself unexpectedly."

One of the wolves held her hand up. When Jim looked over at her, she said: "Question: will we be looking at weapons? I mean, claws and fangs are all well and good, but if I can just shoot a fucker instead..."

Jim nodded. "Yes. We'll be looking at all of it. Not least because not everyone here has claws."

MV2: An Animated Conversation

"Judgement," said the aggressively ordinary man, and offered a hand. He was just a little taller than Andy, with medium-brown hair, medium-brown eyes, and medium-brown skin -- for the moment.

Andy had happened to be passing by when the Animate came out of his room, before he'd put his face on; he was a silvery-gray humanoid figure, with fingers but no distinct toes, a head but no eyes or mouth and only the vague suggestion of nose and ears. "Andy," he offered in return, and shook.

The Animate's grip was firm but not aggressive. "Would you share your story with me?"

"If you like," Andy said. "What would you like to know?" He didn't see any real point in keeping secrets; not here, not now. 

"Would you start by explaining to me how you became a monster? I have heard Y.T.'s story, but I suppose yours must be different. It is yours, after all."

"All right," said Andy, and did his best to explain about being an ordinary human going about his life, being attacked by monsters, and waking up as one himself. When he was finished, Judgement nodded.

"I thank you. Would you care to hear my own?"

"Of course," said Andy. "We should get moving towards the classrooms, though."

"Let us talk as we walk, then." Judgement started down the hall, and Andy paced along with him. "I was a mannequin -- in a department store, I believe. My early memories are not the clearest. But I was stolen by a small group of friends, who were also employees of the store, and they enjoyed taking me along with them -- to their apartments, to their parties, to nightclubs... and to movies. They would sit with me, adjust me, pretend to talk to me -- or to talk for me, to others." He paused. "Then there was a moment. We were all watching the second Terminator movie, and there was a moment when the T-1000 paused to look at a mannequin like myself. I realized then and there that I was me, that I was alive, that I could alter my appearance just as it did." 

"That must have been a shock," Andy said quietly. 

"No more than waking back up after dying, I suspect," answered Judgement. "I did not wish to scare my friends, so I waited until they were asleep, took on the seeming of an ordinary man, and departed. I had no idea what I was intended to do, of course, and no real idea how to navigate the world -- and this was in Boston. It wasn't long before the Authority picked me up and brought me here."

"Well," said Andy, "It's a pleasure to meet you, and I'm glad you're among us."

"You as well," returned the Animate. "It is my hope to someday be human myself, but for now all I can do is look like one -- and do my best to learn their ways."

Andy considered that for the space of a breath, then for another. "That's an admirable goal," he said finally. "Let me know if I can help."

Judgement considered that. "For now, I collect stories. What I lack in living as a human, I hope to make in learning about them."

Andy hesitated, holding open the door to the central building that held the school rooms. "All right. I have other stories I can share, when we have time."

"You are gracious," Judgement observed. "Like my friends were." 

MV2: Human Wights Issues

"Have you tried talking to the dead yet?" asked Y.T., as they walked back towards the dorm. 

Andy shook his head. "No. I'm pretty sure my maker can, and I know he can reanimate corpses, but I'm not sure I want to develop that as a skill. Not unless I'm going to join the hunters, and that is not a decision I'm prepared to make any time soon."

"I finally managed it today," Y.T. said. "It's tricky, but I could help you."

Andy considered that, nodded. "Let me think about it. Also, congratulations."

"Thanks." She'd scaled back some of her initial intensity now that they'd had a few days to get used to each other. "I'd like to work on claws, but..." 

He glanced at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Paranoia, maybe," she admitted. "I'm stronger than most humans, but if another monster jumped me? Claws are about the only edge I'd have. Can't count on raising the dead to defend myself. And there are worse things out there than us."

"We can carry weapons," Andy observed quietly, "but..." He trailed off, thinking about the advantages and disadvantages of having a built-in fistful of knives as opposed to carrying a gun around. "I mean, I'll try to help if you want."

"Thanks," she said. "I... I find it a little hard to believe you're seventeen. You don't talk like it, and you sure don't act like it. If this had happened to me back then, I'd have been actively suicidal."

Andy huffed. "I can't say it did anything good for my mental health. And I spend a lot more time reading books than talking to other people, so I suspect I kind of talk like it."

"You do, but that's not a bad thing." Y.T. hesitated. "Listen, I'm sorry for coming on so strong when you first got here. I just... I really wanted to have somebody else like me around, so I wouldn't feel like such a fucking freak."

"See, now you sound like you're twenty-five. I'm seventeen; I felt like a freak even before I was turned."

That got a laugh out of her. "You want a hug?" she asked. 

"Sure."

They leaned in, awkwardly, hugged, and withdrew. "We don't really stop having human needs, I guess," Y.T. said quietly...

And Andy said, "Yeah." 

MV2: Settling In

It took two days to get him properly set up and logged in to the online classes, but once they were ready Andy loved it. He could work almost any time, even during the day when he was trapped indoors; he could work as quickly or as slowly as he wanted to; and while he still had particular curricula he needed to complete, he could look at other things as well. It didn't take him long to fill out his class schedule.

Maria and Tom were frequently awake, especially when night was approaching, and the three of them wound up bonding over shared schedules as much as anything else. Maria was calling herself Maria OG -- "Original Ghoul" -- and had been turned much as Andy had, though ghouls didn't usually bother with the living. She'd been working in a mortuary, she explained, and had the misfortune to cross paths with a particularly desperate ghoul. Unlike Andy's maker, hers apparently felt really bad about it, and had brought her to the Authority himself, risking a citation to do it.

Andy tried not to be jealous about that. 

Tom, on the other hand, was less clear on his own origins. The black-eyed children were another order of being entirely, more akin to a ghost or a nature spirit despite having a physical form. "I woke up beside a stretch of road," he'd said quietly. "There was a car going by, so I put my thumb out. The driver picked me up, and I knew he'd done horrible things and was planning to do them to me, too. So I did horrible things to him."

"So how did you wind up here?" Andy asked. "If it's not prying, I mean. Don't tell us anything you don't want to."

"No, it's okay," Tom said. "After they found the wreck, a few people came to poke around who felt... I don't know. More like me. I ran, at first, but after a while I decided to talk to them, and... here we are."

Maria had nodded slowly at that. "Well, if it's any help, I'm glad you're here, Mijo."

Tom had nodded. "I wish I knew what I was... like, am I kid? Am I a ghost who just looks like a kid? I have these instincts, but... I like being here, where you two like me. And you're not... what that guy I killed was."

Andy had nodded at that. "I don't know either," he said. "I barely know what I am. But if you have a problem and you want... I don't know, help or advice... I'll do the best I can." 

"Me too," said Maria. "But you know that." 

Tom hesitated, then just said, "Thanks."

And then they went back to watching the baking show. 

MV2: Feeding at School

"This way," Mr. Carillo said, then paused as they reached the hallway. "Ms. Jiménez."

Stepping our behind him, Andy found himself facing a black-haired, dark-skinned woman in her... late twenties or early thirties? He wasn't sure. Definitely a grownup, regardless.  "You were looking for me," she said easily. "And this must be the young Mr. McFall."

Andy nodded and remembered his manners. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

She chuckled gently as she studied him. "We agreed I should be the first one for you feed on here," she said.

"Oh?" asked Andy. "All right."

"Would you like some privacy, or...?"

Andy looked to  Ms. Jiménez, who offered a small shrug. "Here is fine," he said. "It's not like I've had a lot of privacy so far."

"All right," she said. "We'll have some other options for you later on, but for right now..."

He nodded and reached out. She wasn't a tall woman, but there was something about her... Maybe it was just self-assurance. She wasn't afraid of either of them; she wasn't even nervous. 

He put his palm to her forehead, and felt a sudden and unexpected surge of power; he choked it back immediately, even as the beast tried to rise up inside him. He was not going to mess this up, and he was not going to hurt anybody who was trying to help him...

He yanked his hand back. He felt better, fresher, his thoughts sharper; likely he looked better as well. He already knew that without feeding, his body would wither into something even more corpse-like, and he didn't want that at all. His appearance was bad enough as it was.

Ms. Jiménez sucked in a breath, then smiled. "Very good," she said.

"What just happened?" Andy demanded. "That was... that was a lot."

"Claws," said Mr. Carillo. 

Andy looked down at his hands, then realized the full length of his claws were out. That had been the beast, and he hadn't realized it... but at least he hadn't done any harm with them. "Sorry," he said, and resorbed them into his fingers. 

"You passed a test," Ms. Jiménez told him. "I promise you, most times we'll warn you in advance. But feeding -- draining -- is a touchy issue, and one of the main sources of friction between monsters and the human world. So we needed to make sure you could handle yourself in unexpected circumstances."

Why would you risk that??? His expression must have been obvious, because Ms. Jiménez chuckled again. "I'm a sorceress," she said. "Also a witch, but that's less important here. I can set a working to break the connection if it passes a certain point, and I did -- only you didn't get there."

"I'm a little worried about the claws," Mr. Carillo said. "Veronica told me you could call them out, but wights don't usually extend them during feeding."

Andy considered that, but only for a moment. "There's... something in my mind. I'm not sure how to describe. It's like a second self, but it's... feral. Bestial. Feeding is tricky for me because it, uh... takes an interest when I do."

Mr. Carillo exchanged a glance with Ms. Jiménez. "That isn't usual either."

Andy shrugged. "The person who first tried to help me control my feeding was a psychic, I think. She touched it, it woke up, and she pulled back out -- fast."

Ms. Jiménez frowned. "That sounds more like a were than a wight," she said.

Andy nodded. "Steve -- he was one of the hunters who brought me here -- said that too. Then he smelled me and said I was definitely a wight, though." 

Ms. Jiménez grunted thoughtfully. "We'll just have to keep an eye on that, I guess."

MV2: Negotiated Planning

"We're probably going to have to set you up with classes online," Mr. Carillo said, as the other monsters filed out. "Feeding won't be an issue -- we have a decent staff of human donors, who rotate feedings so nobody gives too much. You can feed safely, can't you?"

"So far," Andy told the ghost. 

"That's a relief. What I'd like is to get you the rest of the way to your diploma in the earlier hours of the evening, and then work with you on abilities and anything else you're interested in afterwards."

That didn't sound bad. "All right," Andy said cautiously.

Mr. Carillo smiled reassuringly. "I feel like I should remind you that you aren't trapped here," he said gently. "We're trying to help you so you can go back into the larger world when you feel ready. You could walk out the gates right now, and nobody would stop you."

Andy nodded. "Except for the bit where my maker is out there somewhere, hunting for me."

"Except for that," Mr. Carillo admitted. "Still, it's your choice."

Andy sighed. "You're right, it's just... Look, I like going to school. I'm good at it. Online classes will be fine, and I do want to graduate. But this thing with Titus Anthropicus... I've done some fencing, some wrestling, and a little karate -- plus gymnastics and track. None of that leaves me feeling like I could defend myself against him, let alone all three of them."

The ghost took a long moment to consider that, then said: "First, let me emphasize that you're safe here. The wards around this campus have been built up over decades. Your maker and his friends would have a very difficult time trying to come for you here. Second... we don't normally train people to fight, but we can. I'd prefer if you also trained in things that might offer you some sort of reputable career, but there are those of us who make their living through violence. The Hunters are among them. So if you want combat training, we can provide that. Just be aware that it's likely to set you apart from a lot of your fellow students."

Andy shook his head. "I don't know about careers," he said. "I mean, I really have no idea. I just... right now, if they drove a van through the gate, I've got nothing going for me but claws. So sure, let's look at other things for a career -- Rodney suggested something along the lines of Accountant By Night -- but also I need to be able to defend myself."

Mr. Carillo nodded thoughtfully. "All right. I can pull some strings for that." 

MV2: Classmates

Distracted as he was, Andy hadn't gotten a good look at the inside of the building; but the room he followed Maria and the black-eyed child into had the very distinct look of a group therapy setup -- not that he'd ever been in that sort of therapy himself, but he couldn't imagine any other reason for a circle of chairs in the middle of a room with essentially no other furniture. 

Mr. Carillo was seated opposite the door, and Andy could see what Veronica had meant: he was misty, half-transparent, and hard to see even in the brightness of the fluorescent lights overhead. The chairs were cheap and basic: molded plastic seats and backs, with metal legs underneath. One of them creaked as a smooth-faced, androgynous figure settled into it. 

Y.T. squeezed his shoulder, but went and sat on the far side of the circle when Andy followed Maria and Tom and took a seat beside the boy. 

Once everyone was seated, Mr. Carillo stood. "Some of you have already met our newest student, Andrew McFall -- he goes by Andy. Andy, would you say a few words? You'll get the chance to meet your fellow students over the next few days, but for now I'll be getting you oriented and setting up your schedule."

Andy sighed and stood up, then looked around the circle of chairs. It was every bit as diverse as Mr. Carillo had described it; aside from Y.T. and the ghosts, he couldn't even remotely identify what sort of monsters his fellow students were. "Hi," he said. "I'm Andy. I'm a wight, obviously, newly turned and still kind of in shock about that." He sighed, then raised a hand a made a vague circling gesture. "Can we just assume I said the usual platitudes about being glad to meet you and looking forward to getting to know you? I'm not trying to be an asshole, and if you aren't either we'll probably get along just fine, but this kind of speech isn't really my thing."

Tom reached out and touched his hand, and a low rumble of laughter circled the room.

"Well said," chuckled a brown-haired man in dark slacks, a tan trench coat, and a fedora. He was misty and half-visible, just as Mr. Carillo was; one of the ghosts, then.

Mr. Carillo nodded. "Welcome to the Rocky Mountain Introductory Academy."

MV2: Names and Appellations

The other wight shrugged. "It's kind of a rite of passage. New name, new life."

And shrugged back at her. "You know I've only been a wight for like a week, right?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "And you can already make claws?"

Andy sighed, but decided not to answer. He didn't know what the other wight was looking for here, and nothing he said seemed to be the right sort of answer. After a moment he said, "Fine. What's your new name?"

"I'm thinking about using Y.T.," she told him. "Yours Truly. Whitey. It's a reference to--" 

"Snow Crash," Andy broke in.

Y.T. paused, then closed her mouth. "Yeah."

"I read it. Liked it, too. The character association is a little weird, but the name is clever."

"Um. Thank you? Maybe?"

He held up a hand uncertainly, dropped it. "I mean, she's... what? Fifteen? Sixteen? ...in the book. I'm guessing you're a little older. That's all."

"Twenty-five," she told him. "I don't know, maybe I'll decide on something else instead."

"I'm fine with calling you Y.T. for now," Andy said as they reached the main building and stepped inside. 

"Thanks, Andy. How old were you?"

He hesitated, then thought, What the hell. "Seventeen."

Y.T. gasped. "Seriously?" 

MV2: Getting Along

Maria and the boy rose immediately, and Andy followed a moment later. It was dark outside now, dark enough for them to move without fear of sunlight. 

Others were emerging from their rooms, falling into line cheerfully or reluctantly as they drifted along the corridor and out the front door. "Stay with us," said Maria, and the boy nodded. 

Andy nodded back. He had questions -- so many questions -- but this didn't seem the time to ask. He didn't want to be rude, and he'd accept whatever small kindnesses his fellow monsters cared to offer. This whole experience was dreamy, surreal; it wouldn't surprise him at all to wake up and find out that he was never really here...

But that was too much to hope for. 

"So you're him," said a voice in his ear. 

She'd come up beside him without his noticing, but he managed not to start. Instead, he turned his head and regarded a face like a corpse, white skin with bluish undertones, pale blue eyes, white hair...

A heartbeat of panic and dismay rolled through him, before he realized that this couldn't possibly be his mentor. This wight presented female, and was just as new-turned as he was... and most importantly, he had no sense of his maker's proximity at all.

"And you're her," he returned after a long, long moment. 

She nodded. "Word is you're something special," she said. 

Andy frowned. The hell? "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Bypassed the usual training, assisted the hunters, things like that."

Andy huffed and shook his head. "No. My maker was hunting me, and the hunters got me away from him. That's it."

"So you can't do anything?" she asked.

Andy shrugged. "I can feel when my maker gets close. I can have claws, if I want." He could all but feel Maria and the Black-Eyed Child listening in.

"That's still more than most of us arrive with," the other wight said. "Usually when we come here we just know how to feed safely."

"Yeah, well... that was the plan. But we kind of did a speed-run of that part. I'm Andy."

"...Andy." The wight studied him for a long moment as they neared the central building. "Seriously? Just Andy?"

He shrugged. "You want something more theatrical?" 

My Subconscious Is Having Issues

Had a solid night's sleep with really, really weird dreams: 

It started with the return journey on some sort of trip. Usually I spend these sort of dreams trying find things and/or get everyone together, but this time no: there were some challenges, but we all got back. "We", in this case, was "me and the people I was traveling with" so also it wasn't a family trip (as these dreams usually are).

No, the family element picked up once I was back home -- in my childhood home, in considerable and accurate detail -- when I discovered that my parents (both dead now IRL, my mom for a decade and my father just under a year) were going through my stuff -- unpacking my bags, washing and sorting clothes. For some reason, this infuriated me.  I think maybe there were some things in there I didn't want them to find? I don't know. But it was a full-on yelling, breaking-things-in-the-Activity-Room, throwing-furniture-around session. On top of the which there a couple of unfamiliar kids there, playing on our computers, who didn't want to go away. I remember shouting at them to get out.

I really have no idea what set this off. 

Brains are weird. 

MV2: Unwillingly Awake

Andy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He'd slept, dreaming again of that horrid, blasted landscape; at least the beast had kept him company in his dreams. He still had the phoenix feather in its glass case, and the pistol that Steve had issued to him; he'd returned the shotgun, but Steve had advised him to keep the pistol and its ammunition locked away in his room. Since that likely involved breaking -- or at least bending -- a few rules for both of them, Andy had simply nodded and said nothing else about it. A showdown with his maker would have been nice, a way to tie things off one way or another, but apparently he didn't get that. 

No surprise. He stirred, rose, and brushed his teeth -- whether that was even needed anymore was an open question, but he'd rather smell of fresh cleaning than not. Then he dressed himself. 

He'd always had a good sense of time, and while it wasn't dark outside yet it would be soon. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a decent set of sandals... he had a pair of hiking boots, but if he used his claws he'd tear right through them. No, he wanted to keep those for when he felt safe. He could probably call out claws on his fingers without extending them from his toes as well, but he had no practice at that and didn't trust himself to manage it in the moment. If a moment comes up. It might not.

He couldn't step outdoors, but he could certainly leave his room; the hallway was empty, but he could hear voices from off to his left. He turned that way, followed it down, and found a sort of communal living room with a large, flat-screen television playing on one wall. Couches and chairs were scattered around, along with a few side-tables. A woman and a child were sitting on one of the couches; both turned to look at him as he stepped into the room.

The child reached forward, picked up a remote, and paused the baking contest that was showing on the screen. Looking back, he said: "Take me with you, mister?"

Andy blinked at him. "I don't think any of us are going anywhere until we're ready."

The pale-skinned child blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Reflex. You're new."

Andy nodded at that. "Very new." 

The woman smiled. "Maria," she said. "Ghoul. And you must be the new wight we were expecting."

Andy nodded uncomfortably. The woman was what he would generally have classified as adult, without any idea of a specific age. "Andy," he said. "Don't let me interrupt you. I just couldn't sleep any longer."

"Yeah, it's a challenge," Maria said. "I can't sleep through the entire day, but I can't go outside in daylight yet. Tom, here, is the same. I'm hoping it'll be easier in the winter -- shorter days, longer nights."

The boy nodded. "You're another wight?"

"Entirely against my will, but yes," Andy said, forcing himself to meet those black eyes. "It's okay if you want to put your show back on."

The child-seeming boy nodded. "It's okay if you want to come sit with us."

Andy nodded and came forward, settling into a chair as the baking show began again. He had no particular interest in cooking, but the show was charming and he didn't mind the quiet company. It was a full half an hour later before a bell sounded over the speakers that he hadn't even noticed in the room.

MV2: Settling The Basics

"This is our dormitory," Mr. Carillo said. "Each student gets their own room, at least to start with. We're on a purely nocturnal schedule, though not everybody needs that."

"I will," said Andy, absently. He was missing Steve and Veronica, and even Rodney -- even though they'd just left. It wasn't quite one change too many, but it was close; they'd been anchors while he was at sea. 

Mr. Carillo nodded. "I know. We get more wights than you might think; we have another one here now."

"How many students?" he asked. There was something dully generic about this place: patterned carpeting, painted walls, panel ceiling, lights and doors at regular intervals. The outer walls were light-colored brick, and the lower floor -- which they were traversing now -- lacked windows, or much of anything in the way of decorations. 

"Fifteen, at present," Mr. Carillo answered. "One wight, two ghosts, two vampires, a demon, two new-risen nature spirits, a zombie, three werewolves, an animate, a ghoul, and one of the black-eyed children. Sixteen, counting you; you're our second wight."

Andy nodded. He didn't exactly care, but he thought he should know. "I suppose we'll have... what? Classes and a schedule?"

Mr. Carillo nodded. "Exactly. You're still finishing high school, and we'll help you get to a diploma; in addition, we'll work more on feeding, and developing some basic powers to align with the sort of monster you wish to become. Frequently, that includes a plan to avoid being any more of a monster than you absolutely have to: ignoring your powers, dealing effectively with restrictions and compulsions -- including feeding -- and finding a job that will allow you to fit in with the mundane world."

That sounded like a lot, but then they'd probably had a long time to study the problem and try things out. Andy couldn't imagine how he was supposed to have a normal life when he needed to drain a certain amount of youth each night, but maybe he could find something. 

The idea that an ordinary relationship was pretty much impossible was depressing, but not unexpected. I'm so sorry, Amy. If you hadn't come over to my house, you wouldn't be dead now. Yeah, it was a dumb accident and not my fault, but still... 

He shook his head and stopped beside Mr. Carillo at one of the doors. 

"This will be your room, for now," Mr. Carillo told him. "Put your things away and rest. We'll resume your education tomorrow night."

MV2: Welcome to the Classroom

Andy waited until Veronica turned off the van before he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out. They'd made some brief stops -- long enough to get him a decent set of very generic clothing and a bag to keep it in. That was fine; fashion was the least of his concerns at this point. 

Veronica stepped out first, approached Mr. Carillo, and offered her hand. He shook it, smiling, then turned to Andy. "So this is our new student?"

Andy nodded. "And hopefully not too much of a problem."

Mr. Carillo huffed a laugh. "I promise you, our entire mission here is to help ease you past your problems."

That sounded encouraging, at least. "...Thank you," Andy said, after an awkward moment. 

"We have a room prepared. If you don't have clothing, we can provide it." 

"We grabbed a few outfits and basic toiletries," Veronica said quietly, "but nothing... personal."

Andy shrugged. "It's fine."

Mr. Carillo took a moment to study him. "You're really new, aren't you? I mean, I knew that -- it's right there in the file -- but we don't usually get new students until they've been changed for several months."

"I imagine most of them aren't being hunted by their makers," Andy observed, keeping his tone neutral.

"No, generally not," Mr. Carillo agreed. "Right, well, let's get you into a comfortable room, a hot bath, and a proper nervous breakdown, shall we?"

Andy considered that. "Yeah, that sounds about right," he admitted. 

MV2: First Impressions

Andy looked around as they turned off the farm road and onto a wide, cobbled driveway. They were well away from the highway now, traveling on farm roads and byways; the terrain had gone irregular and hilly, and he could see mountains in the distance. There were trees, but not many; those mostly followed the course of creeks and streams. 

The stone wall with its wrought-iron gates seemed out of place, out here in the relative middle of nowhere, but Veronica drove the van up to it and stopped. In the back, Steve stirred as she rolled down the window, then leaned out a pressed a button on some kind of speaker arrangement. After a long moment, a voice asked, "Veronica? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Got the new student for you."

The voice was male, and sounded older. "Ah. Right. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."

Veronica shrugged. "We decided to move quickly. And since ambush failed, Eleni wants to get back to the hunt." 

"Come on up. I'll meet you out front."

The gates swung open, and Veronica guided the van under the stone arch and into the school. 

The central building had the look of an old stone factory, with rough, heavy blocks forming the outer walls and narrow windows scattered around. A more modern building, two-storied but still smaller, sat off to their left, and a handful of other buildings were scattered around as well. What caught Andy's attention were the obstacle course -- what else could it be? -- and the climbing tower, both of which made his palms itch for a try at them. 

It was still an hour or two before dawn -- he'd lost track --  but his vision had adjusted almost on its own and the figure on the porch of one of the smaller buildings was clearly visible: a grey-haired man in a rumpled suit, standing at the top of the wooden steps. Despite the hour, he looked awake and alert, his posture almost military.

"Alejandro Carillo," Veronica said quietly. "Mister Carillo, to you. You can trust him. He's an old friend -- my mentor, after I turned." 

Andy nodded. "Werewolf?"

Veronica shook her head. "Ghost. He's making a special effort to be solid for you; normally he's harder to see."

Andy took a moment to think about that, but the thought that came to him first was just... It had never occurred to him that he might have woken up as a ghost instead of a wight. But given his sudden, violent death... he could easily picture himself hanging around to protect his little sister Judith. God, that would have been a mess. "Sorry," he said after a long moment. "I mean, we all know stories, but it never occurred to me that I might actually meet a ghost. Socially, I mean." 

MV2: More Travel

They drove north and west, heading out of Oklahoma and towards... Andy didn't know, and didn't care enough to ask. One of their schools, which were supposed to teach him to use and control powers once he knew enough to feed safely.. That was enough for him. As the van made its way along the highway -- moving at night, since Rodney couldn't keep up otherwise and nobody wanted to try shoving his motorcycle into the van itself -- Andy thought through the questions he did want answered. 

"Any more information on Titus?" he asked, glancing over at Steve. 

Steve shrugged. 

Andy said, "Come on, I know you get information that you aren't sharing with me."

This time Steve sniffed, looking amused. "All right. He's a revolutionary. Calls himself Titus Anthropicus. Origin uncertain, but he's been active in the U.S. for at least a century. Violently opposed to the Settlements -- Reservations, they're usually called. He refers to them as concentration camps, and that's..." Steve sighed. "Not entirely right, but not entirely wrong either. 'Reservations' is better. He's got a long history of sabotage, organizing, and at least two deliberate assassinations. The werewolf calls himself Lycan't, and he's... generally been more of a mercenary than anything else. The nightbringer's new, though -- we don't know much of anything about her."

Andy nodded as he took that in. "All right. That helps. So he was... doing his thing, wound up chased by the police, broke into my house and murdered me while his friend ate my girlfriend, and then managed to escape despite looking like a badly-reanimated corpse. And one way or another, he realized -- or expected -- that I'd wake up like this, so he came looking to... recruit me? I guess?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe. He definitely wants you for something." Which meant maybe the phoenix feather or maybe something else entirely.

Andy nodded slowly. "What about Lorraine, and... was it John?"

Steve chuckled, then fell silent. "I heard how you handled John," he said quietly. "And.. it wasn't subtle, or discreet. You weren't wrong, exactly -- that guy was going to be a problem, one way or another, any way he could find -- but you made yourself look like a threat to civilians, too."

"Sorry." Andy looked away, out the window. "He just... I don't know. Something about that guy really pissed me off." 

Steve nodded, then paused for a long moment. "Lorraine was... mauled. Not fed on, not infected -- deliberately, it seems -- but murdered with claws. John was taken, and we haven't seen any sign of him since. We assume he's traveling with Titus, and probably being trained by him -- possibly as a replacement for you. After you drained him, it would have been easy to tip him over the edge; you might even be able to sense him if he gets close to you, since you contributed to his turning."

Andy shuddered. "Dear God, I hope not." He didn't want that weight on his conscience. 

Steve shook his head. "Not your fault. He would have lived if Titus hadn't intervened. And whatever the faults in our current system, Lorraine wasn't doing anybody any harm. Titus chose to murder her anyway."

"I'm going to kill him," Andy said. "Permanently."

"You're not--"

"Quiet," Andy told the werewolf. "I'm manifesting over here." 

"Yeah." Steve sighed. "Just remember, if you're manifesting then Titus likely is too." He hesitated, again. "So manifest hard."

MV2: The Long Wait

A night passed, and then another, and then another. Andy finally found a rhythm of sorts, sleeping through most of the day and waiting for enough night to fall that he could safely move around. He'd remembered to bring the book of naval history with him, and finished it. 

When he woke again, it was still light outside. He rolled over, checked the two guns he'd been given, and then sighed. He hadn't sensed his maker Titus, and if the others had come for him surely the strike force would have notified them. Either they'd managed to slip away, or Titus had given up, or... or he's waiting for everyone to drop their guard. Which they will. 

He wouldn't, of course. But it was obvious that the plan to lure the three rogues here and destroy them wasn't working. 

So it was no surprise at all when Veronica knocked on his door and said, "We're holding another planning session."

He nodded, rose, and followed her out to the kitchen. 

Steve and Rodney were sitting there; so was Eleni. Andy took a seat and decided to make it easy for everyone. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," confirmed Eleni, watching him from behind her glasses. "Either they don't know where we are, or they know better than to try us."

Andy sighed, and met Rodney's eyes. The vampire nodded. 

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"Best if we get you into a school," Eleni said softly. 

Andy considered that for a long moment. "The schools are protected?"

Steve nodded. "Very thoroughly, and for several different reasons."

"We have to get you and Rodney fed, too," Veronica added. "After what happened with Lorraine and the kid, we can't risk bringing anyone else out here."

"Hell," said Rodney, "Titus may even be trying to starve you out, push you into an uncontrolled feeding."

Steve nodded. "Veronica and I can get by on regular food, but we can only provide for you two so much. We've been holding back on that, hoping your maker would show." 

"All right, then." Andy nodded. He wasn't looking forward to making another adjustment to his life, however well-intended, but he didn't see any other path forward. Exposing himself as bait was risky -- which at this point he was prepared to accept -- but the others would never go for it, and he wasn't honestly sure he was willing to risk his life... or unlife... like that. He couldn't bring himself to care if he lived or died, but he wasn't actively suicidal either. "Let's do it."

Eleni nodded to him. "We'll be beside you the whole way," she said.  

DoT: Not Them

Verity paused on the bridge, and handed the spyglass over to Vallatha. The younger woman was coming along well, minding her control as she slowly expanded her abilities, and it was a matter of pure shitty luck that she'd fallen afoul of a charm spell. Otherwise, she might have taken the mage captive when they'd first met. 

"I can't tell," Vallatha said at last. "The group's about the right size, but none of them look like the vendor's description -- or the elf I spoke with."

Verity sighed. "We're going to have to take a closer look.  If they're using disguises, a voice might give it away. Could you manage to talk to them?"

Vallatha nodded. "I haven't put on a disguise myself in well over two years, but I can do it."

"Do it, then. You're the only one who's had contact with them; you'll be the only one who can tell. And Mad Mattie wants answers."

"I want answers," Vallatha said, suddenly fierce. "I don't want anybody messing with my mind like that. I hate the idea of losing control like that."

Verity nodded. "I understand. Learn what you can, then, and report back."

* * *

Verity looked up as Vallatha knocked, entered her sanctum, and then dumped herself into one of the chairs. "It's not them," she said. "It could almost be -- they even had a halfling there -- but the halfling was still a child, and I don't think she's throwing spells at anybody. The rest of them... They could be a crew, and possibly Mist Eyes, but they don't match any crew I've ever heard of, and apparently they spend a lot of their time helping out people on their spoke. One of the kids is apprenticed in the bakery, and the woodcarver told me how they heal his hand every morning to help with the pain." She sighed. "And the only elf there was a woman, who kept trying to flirt with me. None of their voices were familiar, either."

"None of that proves that they didn't kill Varna," Verity observed, but she sounded dubious even to herself. 

"It doesn't," Vallatha agreed, "but I would have preferred to find something that does. We could pull them in, find a way to make sure they were telling the truth, but..." she shrugged. "I think we're looking in the wrong place."

"Very well," Verity said after a long moment. "Keep looking. Hard to believe that there might be two such groups, but Mistress Taritha's description wasn't very precise."

"Sudden violence will do that to the untrained," Vallatha observed, and Verity nodded. 

"So we keep looking." She sighed. "This mage will show up, sooner or later. I'd prefer sooner, but if they have any sense they'll have gone to ground after this."

"Is there another way to look?" asked Vallatha. 

"I'll set someone to watch them," Verity said, "and see if they make contact with anyone else. If they're just an up-and-coming crew within the Mist Eyes, though.... It's still possible that's how they went to make their name, but if so only they and Cedric will know it. We can't trust to rumor for this."

Vallatha nodded. "I have a friend who might be good for this. With your permission...?"

Verity nodded. "Tap him. He doesn't have to be brilliant, just observant and unobtrusive." 

Vallatha nodded. "I trust him. You recruited us together, if you remember."

"Ah," said Verity. "Salador." She nodded. "Do it." 

MV: Lying in Wait

It took a bit of practice with bits of trash for targets, and a recitation of the basic rules of gun safety: all guns are always loaded, trigger discipline is foremost, and you only aim a gun if you intend to shoot something. Veronica nodded along, and once Steve was satisfied they handed off a pair of weapons: a .38 revolver, and a pump shotgun with an under-barrel attachment that seemed to be a diving light or something similar.  

"Listen, kid-- Andy--" said Rodney, as he handed over the weapons. "Don't waste your time plotting against us. If you want us to cut you loose, we will. Of course, if you misbehave we might end up hunting you and I think we'd all regret that, but you're not a prisoner."

Andy gave him the most withering look he could manage. "I have three targets," he said quietly. "As disappointed as you might be to hear it, none of you qualify." He hesitated for a brief moment, then reached out and squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "And I keep my word."

Rodney managed a grin. "We won't have to make a hunter out of you," he predicted. "You've got the drive already."

Andy considered that. "You're just saying that because I know what I want and I have ideas about how to get there."

"Hunting can be done reluctantly, or joyously, but it should always have respect for the prey," Veronica said firmly. "Even Rodney acknowledges that."

Andy nodded. He had guns now. His maker did too, or his allies did. A wight, a werewolf, and a nightbringer. In theory, the strike team should be able to take care of them -- but they'd dodged the team once before, and rescued the werewolf from Andy and his rescuers. He didn't intend to underestimate them. He'd never expected to find himself in a gang war between monsters and monster-cops, but apparently that was where he was.   

MV: Retreating Further West

Andy wasn't sure where they ended up, only that it was still short of midnight when they arrived. "Nearest town's Lawton," was the best he'd been able to get out of any of his three guardians. Steve had taken the mattress that ran down the side of the van, and promptly passed out, leaving Veronica to do the driving; Rodney was pacing them on his motorcycle. 

Andy had never seen the appeal of motorcycles. They were too loud, too risky, too vulnerable. But sitting in the passenger seat of the converted van, he found he was starting to find the sound of Rodney moving around them reassuring. 

"Steve told me you asked for a gun," Veronica had said once they were on the highway. 

Andy had nodded. "I'd rather have it on record."

Veronica thought about that for a long moment. "The woman we report to is Margaret Hamilton. She's completely human, and very much by-the-book. The odds of her approving something like that officially are... not good."

Andy had considered that. "Is there any way I can contact her directly?"

Veronica had hesitated. "Maybe. If you want to convince her, it should be during daylight -- but you don't seem to pass out the way Rodney does, so that should be doable."

They'd fallen mostly silent after that, and when they pulled onto the small property in the brush-land just outside the Wichita Wildlife Refuge Andy had done his part to bring their things inside. He was strong, but strong wasn't enough to give him a life. Not outside of the current business of running, hiding, and hoping to ambush the monsters who'd killed him. 

This new place was a single-story farmhouse with an attached barn, mostly empty; Andy didn't get much chance to look around before Rodney bustled him inside. The interior was more of a surprise; the central section was built of thick concrete walls and ceiling, heavy doors, and carefully-isolated electronics. The outer areas -- kitchen, living room, study -- were ordinary enough. The small complex of bedrooms and bathrooms were a subtle fortress. 

"You still awake?" asked Steve, mid-morning. 

Andy nodded. "Nerves," he said simply. 

"Well, Veronica briefed me and I'm about to phone in to Margaret. You ready to make your case?"

Andy nodded. He was. 

Steve tapped his phone, and waited while it rang: once, twice... "Sign in," said a woman's voice. 

"Watch Team Barn Owl, reporting, verification Zero-One-Alpha."

There was a momentary pause. "Proceed." 

"At target's request, we've relocated to strike zone outside of Lawton. Our team is in place; Strike Team should be right behind us and digging in."

"Understood," said the woman's voice. "There have been developments. Volunteer Lorraine Duchamp is dead, and feeder John White is missing. We found their car just before noon."

Andy felt a surge of dread go through him. Titus, again. He knew next to nothing about the wight that had made him, but in that moment he was ready to kill him. 

"Understood," Steve returned. "Target has a request."

"Does he?" asked Margaret. "Put him on."

Andy leaned towards the phone, which was set on speaker. "I'd like a gun," he said simply. "I need to be able to defend myself. I know how to shoot, I will pass any readiness or safety check you want to give me, but I want to do this right. What do I need to do to make that possible?"

There was a long pause, and then the woman's voice said: "You've been cooperative, and you are in active danger. If your guardians judge that they can trust you with silver ammunition, I'll back their call."

Steve leaned forward. "Andrew, here, is the most reliable candidate I've seen in a decade. I'd trust him not to shoot me in the back."

"All right. I'll trust you on this one. Run him through basic safety. If he knows it, give the kid a gun. And kid? Be responsible with it."

Andy nodded, even knowing that Margaret couldn't see him. "Only the three who destroyed my life," he said firmly. "And Steve gets the gun back as soon as they're down."

There was a momentary pause, and then Margaret said, "You have yourself a bargain, young man." 

MV: Decision Point

It was just after dark, and Steve led him over to the kitchen table. The lingering scent of food was a minor torment, a reminder that Andy couldn't -- or shouldn't -- eat regular food anymore. Veronica was there as well, and... Lorraine? Yes, that was her name. Sitting beside her was another young man, this one a sandy blond... maybe in his twenties? And sitting between Steve and Veronica was a woman in a sort of Hijab, wearing glasses so dark that Andy couldn't see her eyes. 

They looked like a council of war. 

Cautiously, Andy took a seat and looked around the table again. 

Steve nodded back to him. "You remember Lorraine, I trust," he said, and Andy nodded. 

Lorraine leaned forward. The gray in her hair and the lines in her face were both fading; he could see that clearly, and was relieved by it. "This is John," she said, tilting her head to the sandy-haired young man beside her. 

"Um," he said. "Hi. I'll be your victim tonight, I guess." He grinned, then. "Sorry, I haven't ever been drained by a wight before. Forgive me for being a bit shocked?"

Andy shrugged. "I certainly was," he offered. 

Lorraine chuckled, and Steve moved on. "Our companion in the glasses is Eleni Livingstone. She's in charge of the strike team." 

Andy nodded carefully to her. "Thank you."

She offered a brief, professional smile. "Pleasure to help. I'm here to ask you to make a decision."

Andy considered that, but only briefly. "What kind of decision?"

"What to do next," she answered him easily. "The strike team is in position here, but we can't stay here -- not without the risk of shooting up the neighborhood. I am confident--" She glanced at Steve. "--that we can get you safely to one of the schools, and also that this would be the safest choice for you." She hesitated as Andy waited. "The alternative would be to pull out, let your team take you to someplace more remote, and see if your presence lures in the three rogues so we can trap them."

Andy studied her for a long moment, but couldn't discern anything through the sunglasses. Rodney reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, then extracted a twenty-dollar bill and set it neatly on the table. Eleni turned slightly in his direction, then shook her head at him. Her expression, as much of it as Andy could make out, might have been exasperated.

"Kill them," Andy said, keeping his voice quiet but firm. Eleni turned her attention-apparent back to him. "Otherwise I'm just waiting around wondering if they're going to find me again. I'd rather take the immediate risk."

Steve nodded, and Rodney put the bill away again. "Could have been an easy twenty for me," he remarked in a tone of idle regret. "Too bad." 

"You get paid plenty," said Eleni. "All right. We're agreed. Lorraine, you and John take care of the kid while we pull things together. The moment you're clear, we're off."

Most of the table rose, monsters scattering to their duties. Andy sat there, watching as Lorraine brought John around to him. 

"You could turn me, right?" asked John.

"Into this?" asked Andy, more shocked than he cared to admit. 

Lorraine said, "John," but he shook his head. 

"I was just asking," he said. "I mean, look at him. He's ugly, but he's strong -- and if I'm dead, this bullshit sentence is up and I'm free."

"That's not how it--" Lorraine sounded as if she was doing her best to be patient. 

John scowled for just a heartbeat -- long enough for Andy to see how much he wanted the change, wanted to run loose as a monster. How much he wanted to do violence, even as a mortal man.

He stood up abruptly, his chair scooting away behind him and toppling over, and slapped his palm down over John's face. "You want to be food for us? A victim? Okay."

Lorraine started to reach for him, but Andy brushed her aside and kept his hand in place for that critical few seconds. When he loosed it, John, staggered and dropped: brittle, elderly, and weak. "Don't tempt me," he said, and turned away. "This is your sentence, not your salvation."

Lorraine dropped to her knees, checked John over, then sighed. "Andy..." 

He sighed. "Sorry," he said, with only a token attempt at sincerity. "I'm still new at this. I'll keep better control next time."

"If there is a next time," Lorraine said quietly. "At least you didn't kill him."

"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," Andy said quietly, then sighed. "Sorry," he repeated. "This guy should be kept far away from anybody who actually might turn him, though."

"I know," said Lorraine. "Look, I know this is part of your new nature, but try to keep a handle on it, okay? I'll have to write it up, but I can note it as a one-time thing. Don't make it a habit." 

Andy nodded and stepped out of the room. Behind him, on the floor, John gasped out, "Fuck. You." 

Wargs Revisited

"Got the perfect one for you, Bonethorn." 

"Seriously? I mean, okay, I'll ride a warg into battle, but don't expect me to-- hey! Get off! Stopping licking my ears-- that tickles!"

"See?"

"Grimstick, did you pick out the absolute least murder-y warg in the whole pack?"

"Not sayin'. But Willrender here isn't goin' to be a good companion for just any goblin. He wants scratches -- under the chin and behind the ears are best, but he'll take what he can get. You get wounded in battle, he'll probably just cuddle up beside you." 

"Well then, who's a good boy? Is it you? Is it?" 

"He seems to like you. Goregrim had cracked him over the head with a mace by this point."

"Goregrim is a sad excuse for a goblin. Great warchief, but he's just so angry all the time. Can't be good for his blood pressure. Not like you, Willrender, you sweet, sweet puppy."

"Keep your voice down!" 

"All right, I'm sold. I'm riding a warg into battle, and it's Willrender."

"Good. Now, whatever you do, don't expect him to bite anybody. You just ride him, keep him line with the others, and do your thing."

"Which is what?"

"Eh? Shoot arrows at the elves, Bonethorn. Willrender won't mind that, he just doesn't want to bite anybody himself."

"Right. Yes. Violence. I forgot about that part. Who's a cute giant murder puppy? Is it you?"

"Stop talking to the warg and focus. You're going to need to learn to ride him..." 

"Like this?" 

"...Like that. M'kay, I'll just leave you two to get acquainted. Remember, battle's in three days." 

MV: Elusive Sleep

By noon, Andy was about ready to climb the walls. He'd retreated to the ground-floor bedroom and made sure the blackout curtains were fully closed, but no amount of lying on the bed was enough to let him relax. He wasn't sure whether that was because he didn't feel entirely safe, or whether he'd simply had too much sleep -- or whatever passed for it -- already.

He pulled a book off the shelves almost at random, and found himself reading about naval warfare in World War I. Naval-gazing, he thought to himself, and chuckled quietly. Likely there was a whole hidden history here, spirits and monsters and sorceries all contributing to the outcome of the battles and the course of the war; he'd have to ask about that later. 

The book did its job, at least: after half an hour or so, he was settled enough to lie back and let himself drift. He didn't dream this time, and wouldn't have sworn that he slept except that when Steve came to get him it took a minute or so to wake back up. 

"Are they--?" Andy cut himself off, reaching out and realizing that his maker wasn't close enough to sense. 

Steve studied him for a moment, and Andy shook his head. "I can't feel him."

"Good," said Steve. "The strike team got here just after noon, but this is a safehouse -- not the best place to stage an ambush or even an arrest. Don't want to put the neighbors in danger, after all."

"Tulsa," said Andy, remembering. "Yeah, let's not get anybody else killed." He hesitated, then asked, "Is there any chance I could have a gun? I actually do know how to shoot."

Steve hesitated. "Let me think that over. Officially, no -- too big a risk. But this whole situation is dangerous."

Andy nodded and didn't say anything else. He was still dressed, and when Steve wandered back out of the room he slipped back into his shoes and followed.  

A Conversation 'Twixt Goblins

"Grimstick,these are wargs." 

"Yes! The traditional mounts of our people! ...Is that a problem, Bonethorn?" 

"You want me to ride into battle on the back of a warg?" 

"Keep your voice down, boy! Why is that a problem? Goblins have been riding wargs for a thousand years! It's a great honor!" 

"It just seems kind of dangerous." 

"Dangerous? 'Course they're dangerous! That's why we ride 'em! Strike fear into the hearts of humans and elves!" 

"I mean, dangerous to us." 

"Nonsense, boy! Gryphons is dangerous. 

You fall off one of those, and splat -- yer dead. Y'fall off a warg, you just get laughed at. Wargs is how goblins fight the Bigs. Well, wargs and ambushes." 

"I just feel like maybe I should be riding something that won't eat me if I get wounded in battle." 

"Like what?" 

"Like a pony, maybe?" 

"You know what happens if you show up to battle on the back of a pony when everybody else is ridin' wargs?" 

"...Wargs eat me?" 

"There you go." 

"...Okay, fair point. Put me on a warg." 

"I knew you'd come round. Too smart fer yer own good, but yer still a goblin at heart."

New Nightmares

Lot of weird dreams over recent weeks. Notable among them:

1. A thing like a deformed baby roughly the size of a squirrel, but with adult-sized hands on short wrists growing out of its sides. It was trying to pull me into a very small (like, 5") hole in the wall, and if I hadn't pulled harder it would have... absorbed and consumed me. 

2. A completely separate dream. I liked the part where I was camping with my friend. I enjoyed the part where we were LARPing with a bunch of other campers. I was less pleased with the weird rival family throwing rocks at my head. The tarot-ish reading that passed for the post-funeral reading of the will was weird. Having a random toddler get caught between the inner and outer doors of the elevator and fall down the shaft was horrible. 

There was a lot of "trying to find my sword again" in there, which I think is usually a sign of my brain trying to gear up to Get Things Done.  

Most recently, I had a -- slightly broken-up -- sort of Addams Family wedding scenario, except that the various parties involved were actually trying to kill each other. There was a river, which varied in width in various areas, where people would swim -- but there were also eels in there, carnivorous and about fourteen feet long, maybe eight inches across. The one I threw off was only eight feet long, but hit had been cut short. There was a point where I was walking on the pipes just under the water, and then back to the main areas where I needed to be; and then a lot of dastardly dealings, including the intrusion of the Shadow Tooth, which turned out to be a projection controlled by a yoga instructor whose controller I took away. 

It was all very weird, and I loved the strangeness of the settings.