Mind grind

Abigail's first clue was the line of silent, still people.

At first she hadn't wanted to approach the embassy; Unlike the other two, she didn't trust quick, and gave away even less. Strangers in a strange land weren't welcomed with open arms, they were turned away by closed and bolted doors. Her disquiet and wariness had cracked by degrees, but her watchfulness never had. It was why she'd realized none of their human handlers other than Zirune remembered Noel existed and she'd known something like this would soon happen.

The people in a row were unmoving and blank faced, one or two mouths hanging vacantly open. They didn't twitch or shuffle or even cough, just in an apparent vigil. She walked up and waved her gauntlet in front of the doorman's eyes, but he didn't blink. A fly had landed on his nose. With a weary sigh, she pushed open the glass doors and stalked inside.

At first her own armor stopped her short, until she realized the purple lights were bringing out old bloodstains on the black plates. Frowning at her gorget, she slowly raised her eyes and looked at the rest of the people around her.

The music thumped and blared, but for all they noticed this place may as well have been a tomb. Women in various states of undress walked around mechanically, like puppets marching under a clumsy hand. The men she assumed were normally customers handed them money, and then they'd both pause for about five seconds before they'd hug without expression and break apart. Even for a brothel it was rather shameless, but her prudishness could wait.

Noel sat on the edge of the stage, her gaze at the floor and her hands folded. The prettiest strippers stood around her like an honor guard as Abigail walked up and tilted her head. Even knowing all she did, it was hard not to be apprehensive. Noel was older by far than her and ancient compared to Iodine; she was generally placid, but was always unpredictable and dangerous. The little albino corpse slowly looked up and over at her.

<No one was happy here.> She whispered into Abigail's head. <It lurked like a rotten tooth under the lights and the laughter. Misery and desperation. I thought if I stepped in I could make them be happy.>

"...We should return to the base. They'll miss us." Abigail said calmly, keeping the horror out of her voice by effort of will. Noel picked up on it anyway, slowly looking around at the silent herd. With a wave of her hand the music died.

<...Was I in the wrong?>

"Removing free will is always wrong." Abigail said immediately. "I'm sure you'd the best of intentions, but do you think any of them would choose this over their own ideals?"

Noel panned around again before standing and waking to Abigail's side. She was much smaller and more fragile; her skin looked like porcelain and she seemed made of glass. Even while she shuffled like a crone, people on the furthest edges of the room were shaking their heads and coming back to life.

<I was only trying to help. I didn't mean to scare you.> She thought, looking up.

"You haven't, I was only worried. It would be a poor joke to be as old as you only to die by, say, being struck by a car." Abigail joked, lied, and smiled. Iodine and the others had rarely seen it, since she saved them for Noel. The smaller child of night said nothing, stare unbroken. Abigail held out her hand before Noel took it, the two of them heading into the night and back to the base they called home now.

Death and taxes

Most of the mail was junk, but when wasn't it?

The Old Navy was new, just like the plaza it sat in. The concrete had only been poured months ago, but empty storefronts had filled, and the place had done steady business since. It's location was perfect, right at a crossroads on the main island in the chain. It hired locals and put money back into the community even while it brought them clothes at decent prices. Thusfar Circe's efforts in the islands had gone well.

The little old lady paused at an ivory envelope of higher quality then the others; it was addressed to her personally. She opened it and frowned down at the single line written on the letter.

Pay me what I am owed, it said.

She glanced at the store cash before shuddering. When the little... Thing that owned this place had talked about profit in their store meeting, her eyes had lit up like someone trying to push pamphlets on religion they'd written themselves. Instead she took fifty dollars and three dimes from her purse and sealed it into the envelope, planning to get rid of it on her way to the bank.

All over the islands, it was a similar scene. Some didn't recieve their letters, and weren't billed; others didn't pay, and were marked. Beth grumbled to herself in the dark as she slipped in seven dollars and a shiny rock.

It took another day and a night for them all to disappear into the post office, but once they were all gathered together, the money and checks inside burst into flame. One or two bounced off the table, but as the others burned white, a winged woman pulled herself from the fire and then turned to yank her scythe out as well. With a wave of her hand Coin dispelled the flames before sighing deeply and looking for a mirror to check herself in.

Finding one in the ladies room, she drew back in disgust at her shameful appearance. It had been a last ditch effort to come back from limbo, but by calling in all her finances she'd managed to buy her way out. That bright-eyed little squid had cost her dearly.

Wings folded around her like a wounded bird, she met her own eyes as she fixed her hair, noting the bags and the hollow, hungry look. Without debt owed to her, she felt famished and unfulfilled, like a VCR reminder next to a DVD player.

"...I need a real vacation after that one. I wonder if Trash still has a spare room?" She mused, before making a face at talking to herself like some cretin.

Local business

Finding the nightclub months back had been like a blessing; it was small, hidden from the main road but large enough to stay on her lonesome, most tourists didn't know it existed, and the clientele was primarily gay. The men didn't really care about her one way or the other and the women avoided her and the pavement slab sized chip on her shoulder. It was hard to be comfortable, except when she knew for a fact she was alone in a crowd. Sometimes it was nice to be able to relax.

"Hey, Nick. Long time no see." The bartender said, finally making his way over to her. She chinned up and drained the last of her Bahama mama before leaning over and beckoning him closer.

"I need to visit Clem. Can you set it up?" She asked over the music. She could've tracked him down, but surprising an arms dealer was usually a bad idea. The bartender hemmed and hawed long enough that she gave him a ten to get the phones working before turning and looking at the girl next to her flatly. She stopped checking her out and smiled, realized how fucked up her face was, and moved on while Blake frowned and drank more.

Eventually she got the go ahead and left, leaving a tip behind her. The drive out of town didn't take long, she knew where she was going. Since washing up on shore a few years ago during a storm, her memory started from walking up the beach. Everything else was just a blank. The island was big, but it wasn't that big, and it hadn't taken long to walk across most of it in the bad time. She turned off her music and drove in silence, briefly clenching the steering wheel.

The old house on route nine had a lawn like a jungle and looked like a yellow tooth with a cavity, but she still parked in the back, armed herself with a gun and knife and took a deep breath before getting out. The chain was her favorite weapon other than m-16s, but there was a time and a place for everything. The man waiting for her on the back porch smelled like puke and was obviously drunk, but he still smiled warmly at her irritated expression. Wiping his hands on his overalls, he got up and offered one.

"Evenin', Sam. Glad to see you, come on in." He said, leading the way. The inside of the garage was surprisingly clean, well-lit, thick walled, and covered with guns and other gear. Some of them were on racks four deep. She closed the door and bolted it before turning to him, walking over and putting her hands on a table.

"You hear the news?" She growled. He nodded. "Yeah, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"I got better. Here's the thing- it wasn't chance. Someone crossed me out. Those pirates-"

"I knew it! Didn't I tell you not to trust 'em?" Clem said, laughing.

"Yeah, you did, but save it. Someone crossed me, you hear me? Those pirates would've rather made money and been alive than made money and died for it, unless it was a lot of money. People are shit, but that whole crew was in on it. None of them wanted to save their skins, just kill me." She snarled.

Clem blinked. "You think someone paid 'em off?"

"Yeah. I can count on one hand how many people know what I'm trying to do, and they're the only ones with the money to throw. You're one of them, Clem." She said coldly. He put down his beer and got up, but she shook her head. "But you don't fit. You make too much off me and you've got your own people. So here's the deal; I need guns, explosives, and some other things to get going on the investigation. Do you have my back?"

He spread his arms wide and grinned through his beard. "What'd you need, honey?"

She grinned back, baring her teeth. There was a bleak, angry sort of joy in it. "You got a shopping cart?"

Blake

She'd never held an m-16 before, but the weight felt good in her arms. Taking aim at a seagull covered buoy, she pulled the trigger and then glanced at the silent gun.

"Take the safety off." Advised the crewman with her. This far out to sea, the flat ugly cargo hauler was alone on the water. She nodded and clicked it, sighting at waves and firing a burst of bullets. She checked it again and shot a burst into seaweed before trying out single rounds. She wasn't that good with it, but the weapon thrilled her, and it almost made her smile until it clicked empty.

"Reload it." She said aside to him, handing it over. He did and she watched before unlocking the magazine and doing it for herself. She chambered another round and killed another wave, looking over the gun again like it was a good dog before shouldering it. "Where's the rest?"

She'd never met the captain, but the first mate and others called her Cricket. Other than the name, they knew nothing about her except she always knew when she was being cheated. There were other crew around docking boxes and running the ship, but they left the two of them alone as she pried off a crate's lid and picked up a grenade. She turned it around in her hands and slowly nodded. The benzine, oxidized iron, and other chemicals were in barrels, but the shipping manifest confirmed everything she'd wanted was on the boat. Pistols, rifles, land mines, and a 50 caliber completed the shopping list.

"Do you have your part?"

Without looking, she nodded, taking a drawstring bag off her waist and handing it over. After checking the inside and blinking at diamonds, the first mate watched her run her hand alongside the treads of a tank. When he raised his pistol across the space to her head, she snapped to him like a hawk. Her scars burned in the afternoon sun.

"Are you crossing me out?" She asked, calm and cold. He nodded. "Captain's orders. Sorry, lady, you shouldn't have come alone." She was able to shift before stepping out in a flash, her hand coming out and sharp edges whipping through the air. He'd fired a second after something bladed sliced half his fingers off and jerked him in place. He stumbled while she swung again-

The chain attached to a haft was long, segmented with inch long blades across it's links. She'd worked with it until it was like another limb, and when the hooked tip snapped around his leg in a loop, she wrenched it hard behind her with both hands. The first mate fell on his back, and she was already there, drawing a heavy knife in an upraised grip.

She didn't say anything, just dropped to a knee and stabbed him in the solar plexus so hard ribs broke.

Hauling the body with her, she jumped behind another crate, listening to the yelling on deck and grimacing. As far as she could see, a win-win situation had turned into a no-win disaster in an eyeblink. She couldn't escape, so she'd kill as many of them as she could before she died. It was so, so, so, stupid the bitterness and anger almost gave her a headache. Checking behind her at the group taking rifles out of crates and advancing, she took a deep breath.

"This is my only offer! Surrender now and-" Gunfire cut her off and she snarled before breaking cover, holding the corpse under the arm like a shield until she got close enough to a group to raise her other hand, black and purple light gathering around her palm like writhing flames and backlighting the decks around them. Clouds were slowly gathering in the sky, and the sunlight was fading, leaving the stacks of cargo looking ominous. She hurled the blight out and watched grimly as the explosion ripped outward, crackling flames dancing and and drowning out the screams with their roar.

Darting back and then scurrying away from a box of grenades, Blake poked out her head and looked for another group. She'd started strong, but it wouldn't last, and she had to keep them off balance. The more she killed now, the less chance she'd have for fate to fuck her later.

When she reemerged, blacklight shone on her. More armor would've helped, but she hadn't expected things to turn this bad this quick. Once again using a corpse as a shield, she dropped it and lashed out with her chain again and again. With room to swing and space to control it, she wrapped it around a man's neck before kicking him hard in the face; she lashed it behind her and then slashed upward, ripping a furrow through a head and body. The lights around her body grew as she killed, making her faster, making her hit harder.

Surrounded by torn bodies and covered in gore, she turned at the approach of more, clenching her fists. Her black hair dripped with blood, and she was breathing heavy, but she finally looked like she was feeling something.

"AAAAAAAGH! YOU WANT SOME?!" She screamed, and there was a pause before she started hurrying away and trying not to get shot. Embarrassment was surprisingly bracing.

Eventually she stumbled toward the last few, bleeding heavy. Her stomach and chest had been shredded, and she'd lost her left arm. Gasping, dying, she was still coming, ices still like ice. She choked when she died, before falling onto her face in a puddle of her own blood. The men looked between each other, terrified, none of them noticing the barrels that had been tipped over and cut open further down the deck.

When the last explosion almost cracked the boat in half, hours after everything sank, night fell around the choppy ocean and all was still again.

Cricket

Nothing brought home a failed idea like a punch to the face.

The Pelican was a dive bar through and through, open late and roaring in the heat of a weekend night. The inside smelled like spilled beer and was dim, but the parking lot was walled off and lit up by hanging lights. Everything else around here was closed and done except for the circle of people out back in the gravel, watching the guy and girl beating the shit out of each other. After the fight someone would sprinkle down sawdust before the next one.

His follow up hook made her stumble, but she didn't quaver, setting her stance and getting back into it. Lawson worked up at the fridge plant and hit like a truck, but the woman was giving him a run for his money. They knew she called herself Blake and that was it, because she wanted it that way. No jokes, no greetings, no stories about the scars all over half her face, just flint-eyed drinking until it was time to fight.

She jabbed and followed up with a series of blows, circling to his right; the last one glanced across his eyebrow. She swung her hips and kicked out, the ball of her foot almost connecting before he tried to grab her around the waist and take her to the ground. She sprawled reflexively, levering his arm off and then punching down onto the side of his head, the two struggling for position before she backed off. The two of them glared at each other, Lawson furious, her sneering like a coyote bearing it's teeth at a gun.

She didn't hear the yelling around her, it wasn't important. What was was closing in and slapping a punch away like she was parrying before wrapping her hands and forearms around his neck, forcing his face down- right into her knees. She threw four or five, making them count, waiting for the moment Lawson was knocked out; when his body slumped, she let go with one hand and twisted her whole body, getting ready to drive a fist so hard into his face it would push his nose flat-

People had grabbed her arms, and she threw them off, but more hands kept her from finishing him. The second she saw she couldn't get at the unconcious man she relaxed, going cold in a second like a switch had been flipped.

"What, you trying to give him a seizure?!"

"He knew what it was. Let him sleep it off. Where's my money?" The bartender looked at her like she was speaking French. "I won. Where's my money?"

They shorted her, but it was the principle of the matter, not the amount.

Standing outside the circle and smoking a cigarette, she wiped blood off herself with an old rag. The lights brought out how fishbone pale she was, like someone who never saw the sun. Her body was weird- under her black tank top, her muscles stood out like driftwood, but there was almost no fat on her, and it left her gaunt. The scars down the right side of her face, most of her chest, and her right arm stood out like rope burns. She took another long puff and looked up at the moon.

It told her she'd done a nice job. The night was proud of her. She didn't smile, just crushed out the smoke and splashed her face with water, waiting for the next fight.

The kill

The office in the back of the mall's Meh Burger was the size of a closet's closet, but it was what they had. Neo Death sat on a blue plastic chair and folded her hands, smiling at her manager. She adjusted her hat and glanced around, wondering about some of the stains on the walls.

"So, uh, ND-" She hadn't known what else to put on the application. He looked away from her weird stare. "-Marcus is leaving for school in a week, and we just hired Sarah and Shade- you worked with her yet? She's weird." She shook her head and shrugged at herself while he continued. "Keeps talking to herself... Anyway, we've got people moving around."

"Would you be interested in getting promoted?" She nodded and brightened up. "You'll just have to learn how to run register-" Her enthusiasm died. "-but you'd be a shift lead. We'd just have to do a background check and a drug test, but you'd get a pay bump in about a week."

She raised her eyebrow and then spread her arms, shrugging again. Frank waved a hand. "I know, but it's for everyone. Here, let me get you the paperwork. How are your sisters doing?" When he looked back at her, she covered her eye with her hand and pretended to concentrate and write before looking overjoyed. She smiled at him again. "Oh, she passed? Good, good for her! If she ever wants a job, let me know. We can probably work around the axe."

"Well, anyway, just get that taken care of and we'll start the process. See you tomorrow." She nodded and got up before walking off, swinging over and quickly making two burgers before shiftily putting the bag in her backpack and heading toward Abercrombie. Lexi was probably off too, and she had to form up with her until their War was done and they could all ride the bus back home. She bounced as she headed past people, eye on the floor and quietly happy.

A fish story.

Agatha stood at the bank of a small pond, holding her fishing pole and watching the wooden bobber out in the water.

The morning had been overcast, so she'd gone out to tend to the crops she'd planted after waking up in their shed. Turning herself into sunlight still made her apprehensive, but she'd walked around and made sure to water and prune them in between. It was nice to see the corn and potatoes growing, although when she reached a few stalks without leaves she realized she'd need to fence the rabbits out. Only after that had been taken care of did she take her pole and line with her into the woods.

The lake next to Greencrest was fished by the town harbor, and she was only flipping for bluegill, just to catch them. She knew of enough other, secluded places along the rivers to be on her lonesome. No one had taught her how to fish, but she'd picked up the basics as a child after realizing it was that or going hungry, and she liked doing it. The quiet was relaxing.

She popped a buttercup off the bush next to her and ate it without seeing it, furrowing her brow and pulling her line back in. Her nightcrawler was gone; little fish had probably nibbled it right off the hook. She shrugged and reached back into the spike of ground lifted up by her sword and dug around briefly before finding another wriggler and baiting her hook again, wiping her hand off on the grass before casting her line. It was just a string tied to a tree branch, but she had it where the shallows sloped off to the deeper part of the pond.

Tommorow she'd have to travel leagues to aid a village in driving off a sheep-napping griffon and then spend two days on patrol before making her way back to the shack, so this was making the most of her time. Popping another buttercup into her mouth like candy, she saw her bobber twitch and jigged the line just a little bit. All was still for a few moments again before it shook in the water.

She gave it a heartbeat and then yanked the pole to the right, her line suddenly going taught and jerking. It wasn't another bluegill, it felt bigger. She almost ripped with her heart in it, but that would've torn the hook right out of the fishes mouth. Instead she took a step backward and grabbed the line with a gloved hand, rolling it in her grip to reel it in. If she'd just been fishing the shallows she'd have used a shorter reach, but she could cast all the way out there without a boat anyway.

The fish fought her, trying to arc and then escape, but it was caught and she easily pulled it out without too much splashing. The bass was longer than her arm and much meatier, and she smiled and laughed after her eyes had shrunk back down. It was the biggest fish she'd caught, the bass flopping, it's dorsal fin pointed and red gills flaring. She quickly slipped off her glove before setting it down in grass and working out the hook. It was too bad- no one would believe this.

Picking it up, she tossed it back into the lake; it floated for a second, staring at her increduously before flashing away and out of sight. Agatha looked up at the cloudy sky and smiled unguarded, winding up her line and gathering her gear. There was a wide section of river down the path, and it was about time for the trout to be biting.

Pokemon Zirconium

It was spooky in here, but Voth had seen worse. Walking around the abandoned museum with a flashlight and Antonio's sword, her eye nervously flicked through the empty and yawning interior. The light never quite reached the walls, leaving long shadows over everything...

She'd been doing very well, under Inshabel's wing and with her house. She was starting to come out of her shell and leave it behind, and hadn't berserked in almost a month. It was a nice life, exploring the islands during the day and coming home to people who cared about her, although she still felt a little uneasy. She hadn't done anything to deserve all this... The only thing to do was be worth it.

There were more than a few Pokemon trainers around and about, and she'd worked hard to be the best she could. Since her first battle she'd learned a lot, devouring the guidebooks Inshabel bought for her and studying them on their computer. A pokedex was too expensive, so it was the best she could do. Once she'd been able to look up territory and habits, she'd started adding to her team in earnest.

Poking her head around a corner, she lit up and stifled a happy noise at the sight of what she was looking for. After seeing one on Google and then confirming they were real, she'd known she had to catch one of them. It was the coolest little friend she'd seen yet, and the wild one was sitting there, studying a flag on the ground.

She readied herself and got a pokeball in her free hand before walking out, eye narrowing and shoulders up. The sword immediately turned to her and drew itself, floating threateningly in the air. She smiled happily at it before tossing out her first choice; she knew it would be a tough battle, but she had a plan!

Fib the Shellder looked around and chattered before spotting the Honedge, it's eyes widening and the burbles turning panicked.

<H-hello, there, pal. It's->

<I will split you in half!> it thundered at him, before he Withdrew, clamping his shell tight. Voth blinked and swallowed, before she swung her arms and got into the battle.

"Fib! You can do it! This is what we trained for!" She cheered, the shell creaking open an inch for the  clam to stare in horror at the blade. It danced in the air, red waves briefly flickering around it as it's attack power increased, the blue eye in the crossguard narrowing in concentration. Voth saw it and pointed-

"Okay, Fib, use Protect!" She called, before a white orb briefly appeared around the Shellder and it's defense raised even higher. She knew what was coming-

<Your armor will not save you!> It thundered deeply, suddenly slicing upward, up to ceiling in an Aerial ace that hit like a thunderbolt. Fib went into the floor, the edge of the blade sinking in and then slicing a deep arc into Fib's shell. The Shellder quailed before it paused and looked up at the length of metal stuck in him. The sword jerked him around, trying to get itself out of the wound. Voth winced before she called out "Now! Water Gun!"

The jet hit the Honedge in it's eye and drenched the sash, the sword pausing to stare down at Fib unbelievingly. The clam made apologetic burbling sounds even as the sword seemed to vanish into the darkness, leaving it's place across Fib- only for a slash to ring out, once again slamming Fib down and leaving cracks across his shell. The Homedge reappeared after it's shadow strike, staring imperiously,

"Fib, you did great! Come back!" Voth encouraged, landing out his pokeball's beam. She pickedout another one and took a deep breath, tossing it out and revealing a Houndour. It barked and growled, embers spilling out between it's jaws.

"Okay, Killy! I promised you tough fights- here we go!" She cheered. After catching him in a junkyard, she'd worked hard to earn the little monster's trust and respect, eventually achieving a kind of understanding. He even listened to her most of the time, more than her pidgey did. She'd just had to show him she knew what she was doing.

<Be wary, beast, or your blood will stain->

 <I'm gonna bite you in HAAAAAAAAAAALF!> It Howled, so loud Voth almost put her hands over her ears. Killy's eyes glowed like embers as his attack power increased. The Honedge paused before it swung and slashed him across his flank, and then the dog lunged in a ferocious bite. Flames spilled out of his mouth from the Fire Fang, rushing across the surface of the blade; it tried to get out, but the Houndour bit down tighter, rills of blood from his gums mixing with boiling spittle.

The Honedge screamed like wind through reeds, once more using Fury Cutter, but Killy's mouth again lit up like a furnace as he used Fire Fang, jerking his neck around to whip the sword around. It's sash had caught fire and was burning around them. The sword hastened to end it and decapitate the Hellhound-

Killy used Torment, blocking the attack and slamming the sword to the floor, biting and trying to savage it while it chipped his teeth. Voth threw out a Great Ball and stood on her tiptoes, crossing both her fingers as it rolled, rolled, and then locked.

"YAY! We did it! Great job, Killy! You were amazing! Who's a good boy? Huuuh? Who's my good special boy~" she asked, ruffling his head and using a potion on him. He licked at her hands before snapping at her fingers, but not hard. She laughed and sent him back to his pokeball before taking chalk out of her pocket and looking for a door to go home.

Team Witcher

Up in a tree amongst the leaves, Scylla didn't see why Eva liked this so much. It wasn't a matter of balance; she was light on her feet and her tentacles had her safely braced. But all it would take was a branch to crack and she'd fall far enough down to hurt. Her lights were off, and she'd dulled her armor with ash to keep the moon from glinting off it.

With the end of the Hotel's season, she and Eva had moved back into Molehu and her submarine with their brothers and picked up where they'd left off. She loved the training, loved seeing the results of her hard work out in the field. Even though the Cat school still had empty rooms and gaps in it's membership, she'd tried to make up for it by brightening their days as much as she could. Between playing tag with Declan in the echoing halls, brewing potions with Na-mes, and spending time with Caprice and her sisters, she was as happy as she could be... Except for the eclipse over her sun.

Na-mes had been the one who'd found her alone in the courtyard, standing in front of the gate, tentacles limp and head down. The silence and the dark had reminded her of the undertones in her own thoughts...

Scylla blinked and looked down when she heard a branch crack under a footstep; her prey was approaching. The nearby village was being stalked in the night by some kind of predator that sounded all too familiar to her, and after checking her codex she thought she knew what was going on. She didn't have the senses of her brothers to check for tracks and bent blades of grass, but she could put together clues well enough. Especially after reviewing the lunar cycle.

Gathering herself, she checked her potions and her swords, her eyes almost all pupil. The night was barely there for her; she could see just as well even in total darkness. Where she'd come from, light had never come at all. The moon might as well have been another sun.

It had been almost this dark in the courtyard, when she'd told Na-mes what was weighing on her. There was no denying what she was, and pretending wouldn't keep the others from danger. The danger she was putting them in just from being there. When she'd thought they had all perished in the wake of Umbrella's assault, it had crushed her soul like a cockroach under a boot. She'd never felt so bad, so empty inside; but if Molehu was attacked again, because of want for her, it would be her fault. Her fault if any of them were hurt. Her fault if any of them died. It had been tearing her apart.

The Wereleopard stalked beneath her, and Scylla tensed, readying herself to leap. It was big, bigger than her, but she wasn't afraid. One predator to another, she thought she could take him. It took another step, tattered clothes fluttering in the wind before it tensed and looked right at her.

She boomed an Aarde out from her hand before drawing her silver sword and throwing herself with her tentacles, landing on it's back and stabbing deep into it's shoulder before it screamed and ripped her off, tossing her aside. She rolled with the motion and came up, tense-shouldered, red lights bursting into being from all over her. She could've used her power, could've lit up everything until it crumbled into ash or exploded with channeled energy, but it would've been a cheat. Dancing away from a swipe of it's claws, she had a much better plan.

Na-mes had listened to her pour her heart out in silence, looking down at her while she miserably talked. She loved each and every one of them, but he was her favorite. She'd never say it out loud in case it hurt Mirrit or Hrol's feelings, but it was true. She'd stared up at him, eyes watering up, before he'd finally quietly said the one thing that had made her stay.

"Please don't go."

She'd hugged him as tight as she could, but already, she knew. No matter what, they would stay a pack. No matter what...

It roared and pounced, but she was moving as well, slipping underneath and to the right as she cut it again. She flowed like water around it's aggression, careful to always have room, careful not to leave herself open or close to it's jaws. It outweighed her heavily, and the swings of it's claws made the air whistle from how sharp they were. Tail lashing behind it, the beast once more tried to unzip her guts, but she had circled again to it's side-

Her tentacles seized it by the arm before she threw it as hard as she could at a tree, running over and slicing deep into it's leg. It roared again and she snapped her limbs to it's arms, holding them tight and bringing them both face to face. She saw only aggression and hunger in it's eyes, before her lights shrieked brighter with a whine and left them dull like stones.

"STOP!" She commanded it, the air seeming to ripple around them. It's snarl was cut off midsound, before it's mouth slowly closed and it lowered it's arms. The fury in it's eyes was undimmed, but it didn't struggle, just standing there and staring at her. She frowned up before releasing her hold.

"...KNEEL!" She commanded again. She wasn't sure if she had to yell or not, but in practice it had seemed to help. The Wereleopard took a knee and she pried it's jaws open before popping the cork on a vial and pouring it down it's throat.

"This might hurt. I'm sorry... I want to help you." She swallowed, putting her hands on the sides of it's head. It was nearly vibrating with the urge to spill her blood, but as her light once again turned up with a whine, it's eyes were filling with the radiance. Smoke poured out of it's ears before it screamed again and fell on it's back, writhing in pain. Scylla winced and put out a hand, trying to stabilize the agony flowing through the monst- no. This thing wasn't a monster, not at it's core.

When the seizure had stopped, a teenager was lying on the ground in tattered clothes, dead to the world. Scylla smiled softly down at him, trying to keep from panting from the effort she'd expended, but it felt good. She'd burned the Lycanthropy out of him like starving a fever, and as she poured another potion down his throat- one she'd made herself- she let herself smile. What someone was didn't matter, just who they were. Especially now she believed that. She didn't think the youth in front of her was evil, he'd just been cursed with something awful. He didn't deserve to die for something that wasn't his fault. At least it had worked...

Scylla smiled down at him before dragging him against a tree and headed off, back toward the little village. Helping or not, the payment was going to Molehu's coffers no matter what.

She hoped Eva had made shrimp for dinner.

Bloodsuckers

Iodine's laboratory was the sort of place waiting for a fire.

It was a large, large circle, partitioned and sectioned off into squares and areas through tables and stacks of books high enough to serve as railings and walls. There were diagrams pinned to notes attached to scribblings that trailed downward like ferns in a forest, and bits and pieces of machinery and Equiptment in a hundred varying states between working perfectly and disassembled. The chandelier hanging down was festooned with softly whirling and tinkling glass spheres and tubes, each briefly glowing a different color in a constant pattern.

Electricity crackled above the Vampire's head, as she adjusted a glass array of lights on an arm to better focus on what she had in front of her. Iodine muttered to herself while she tinkered and adjusted a series of diodes and connectors. It had been one thing to finish Anne's friendship detector- to really finish it to her own specifics and standards- but creating a way for artificial beings to appreciate music was proving more difficult. This was a field she'd previously never worked in or experienced, and so Iodine had been sitting here since the sun had gone down-

When the heavy hand fell on her shoulder, she jumped and screamed while the other snorted laughter.

The Vampire was taller and weightier, regal and cold. Her deep red hair spilled over her black armor in contrast to her white corpse-flesh, and her smile looked more like a sneer. Iodine glared up at her and crossed her arms.

"Don't DO that..."

"I'll stop when it stops working." Said Abigail, looking around. "Is Noel here? I seem to have lost her again."

"I don't believe so. How, er, would we tell?"

"...Noel?" Abigail called, crossing her arms and waiting for a few seconds. When no answer was forthcoming she shrugged. "I don't know what I expected. Well, in any case, is it ready yet?"

"Er..." Iodine looked uncomfortable before getting up and moving pieces and parts around on another table, finally lifting a sword up and handing it off to Abigail. The armored Vampire eyed the edge and then gripped it tightly, briefly waving it around.

"How do I...?"

"You grip it like- there, there you are." Iodine said, putting her hands on her hips and watching the sword suddenly run with red fire. "That's Banefire. It will cling and burn so long as there is fuel. I haven't quite achieved the Witch-ice, however. I'll need another night with it."

"Another- oh, fine. Cease fiddling with your little earth-friend's bits and get to it already, would you?" She asked in an order, setting the blade down overtop Iodine's table. The scientist bristled.

"I'll get to it in time! You can't merely rush these sorts of things, dood-"

"Yes you can. I am now, and I want it done." Abigail said flatly, before leaving. Iodine mouthed her words and made a face before sighing and settling the sword in front of her to open the innards in the pommel and crossguard.

She didn't notice when Noel crawled out of a cupboard and watched her for three hours, but by the time she was finished with the blade, the other was gone.