The start.

It was a clear night on Solis, and the full moon hung in the sky like a pearl on a sea of black velvet.

Death sat in a small glade not far from their castle, her bare feet wet from dew and her violin at her side. The others were watched and guarded, but nothing was unbarred to her; she went where she pleased. She stared up pensively, the silence only broken by the wind and a few ambitious nightengales. Death wanted to enjoy the stillness while it lasted. Soon there would be no more time, even for her.

Conquest was inside her stone cell, laying on her front and trying to sleep. It wouldn't come no matter how many sheep she counted, and she knew full well why. The doll she'd found in the aftermath of a battle, from the warping effects of a machine and a mutant was in her hands; she'd meant to be rid of it, but kept it like a dirty secret. It made her feel things she'd long thought she'd buried, and she sighed with something like regret as she tried to get comfortable.

Pestilence was in her own bare cell, but for once not trying to sleep as well. For almost half an hour she'd been struggling to remove her armor under the weak torchlight, and now it was beginning to grow frantic. She'd done this countless times, over and over... But she couldn't get the plates off of her. The straps and buckles had to be undone in a certain order, and she kept failing at it. Her hands fell to her lap as she glanced at the small mirror she'd installed; her expression was frustrated, confused, and scared. It- the blankness, the disorientation- was growing worse, not better.

Famine was in her lead-lined box, her glow dim and unhappy. It had been days since she'd seen the sun or moon; longer still since she'd been able to talk to anyone. Her steady loneliness made her heart ache. She'd always assumed they'd kept her in here because of fear, but after her eyes had been opened, she knew it was because of disgust, too. She missed Earth, she missed having a purpose other than tinkering and fidgeting in the dark.

When the small, slim Xbox 360 chimed, she almost thought she was hallucinating.

Across space, across whole systems of planets, a rip into reality tore open on a black beach, lighting the night and crackling with lightning. The sand underneath turned to glass as Clash stepped through, her sword across her shoulder. She whipped around to excitedly wave as the tear closed up with a sound like an iron door clamming shut; even though she'd known it was coming, saying Goodbye had been one of the hardest things she'd had to do.

But it was time.

Clash blinked up at Earth's own moon, smiling her sharp smile and holding in a joyful yell before she perked up and reached into her pocket for her Shen.

"Nitori? Hi!... Oh, right, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how late it was- tell Komachi I said Hi when she wakes up! I just wanted to let you know I'm back!... Oh, it was amazing. The whole world was beautiful, and Aggie is doing a lot better. Uh huh. Yeah, everyone was really nice. No... She can't come back... I know. It's okay though. She belongs there and then. I'm just going to miss her a lot... But anyway, I'm on Kuwahari now! I'll see you at work tomorrow, right? I can't wait! Okay. Bye! See you really, really soon!"

Clash hung up and started walking towards the lights she could see in the distance; she was cheerful and happy after her vacation, and more hopeful for the future than ever before.

Gloomy spirits.

The inside of the tavern was warm, packed, and noisy. Gerrard shuffled in place and adjusted his coat before sliding into the crowd.

Travel was still common in this part of the world, and so the press was mostly day-laborers, free from their labors. Gerrard received a few confused stares, but amongst humans he hardly noticed anymore. Goat-people weren't a common sight, after all. He had no business with them in any case.

Reaching the bar itself, he slipped into a vacated seat and took the black gloves from his hands, glancing around. There were more than a few suits of armor with bodies inside sitting around him, but not the ones he-

"You must be the Black Goat of the Hub." A voice growled behind him. It was quiet, but purred with the helm's voice like like the smile on the edge of an axe. He slowly turned around, to meet the red eyes of the Lion.

The man's armor was golden, but spiked and chevroned in sweeping, loose plates. It didn't look heavy; when Gerrard up-and-downed him, it flowed with him as he jerked his snarling faceplate toward a corner, heading that way with a light step. Gerrard followed, dipping his head. When they arrived, he noticed the other one for the first time- a gaunt, tall, silent armored man. He briefly nodded to Gerrard's scrutiny.

"First-" said the Lion, before squeezing the flame out of the candle in the center of the table and sitting down. "You put in effort to hunt us down. Who was your contact?"

"Marcella, in the Old Argo beach district. She highly recommended the both of you. It certainly was a chore to find your trail, that much I'll share." Gerrard said, folding his hands and looking between them.

"Mercenary work is easier if you leave once you're paid." Said the taller one dryly. His armor was more subdued, but still obviously powered and actively used. The scars and torn bits of sheared metal hanging off his frame was proof enough of that- much like the Greatsword leaning against the wall behind him.

"Yes, well, speaking of that-"

"You know our terms?" The Lion growled.

"Your job, your play, your fight, your way. So I'd heard." Gerrard said, slightly annoyed at the interruption. "The job itself is-"

"Why do you want a soon-to-be-Kopper dead?"

"Kobber."

"What?" The Lion asked, looking askance at the other.

"They're called Kobbers, after their Bar."

"So be it." He said, flapping his hand distractedly. "Why does a foreigner want some jailhouse bird red and cold?"

"Personal reasons, primarily. Will that be a problem?" Gerrard asked, filching a drink off a passing tray. He sipped before grimacing- why would anyone in their right mind want alcoholic prune juice?

"Your coin spends like any other." They shrugged at the same time.

"In essence, she bares me a personal grudge, as well as the administration I currently am stewarding. You'd think a war would clean up messes, not leave them to stew in their ugly tempers inside a jail." Gerrard said, discreetly pouring the glass on the floor.

"You want the head when we're done?" Osric asked. His helm snarled at Gerrard, and the red glass of his eyes seemed to pierce through him.

"...Please."

"Half up front, half when the job is done. Do we have an accord?" Antonio, the wolf knight inquired, holding his right hand out. Gerrard grasped him by the wrist and firmly pumped the handshake.

"We certainly do. I'll have your money to you by Tommorow morning. Thank you both very much for-"

"Save your gratitude. The work's not done yet." Osric said, standing and pushing away from the table. Antonio got to his feet, creaking like an old man. Only now did Gerrard notice that his left arm was dead; It hung from his shoulder like a piece of meat, even as he hefted up his sword to his pauldron.

"We'll be in touch."

"We'll be watching."

The homefront (With Cornwind)

The scar across his neck and throat was a dull, yet livid purple. It leapt out to Clash's eyes as he discarded his metal armor chestpiece, leaving the leather padding beneath it. After that, he removed some of his leg armor, leaving the knee and shin guards, and snapping off metal coverings for his boots. Clash was no good at age, but even she could tell the man's hair had gone prematurely grey, a grey that matched the steel-like blue of his eyes. Consulting a wall, he eventually removed a broadsword; the weapon still seemed small compared to Clash's massive length of deadly metal.

"Normally, I'd ask you to go through an exercise, but it strikes me that you are moreso a woman of action and learning on your feet. I can do both, fortunately." The somewhat de-armored knight settled into a combat stance. "Let's leave out those auras my niece told me about, just for now. Otherwise, attack me."

"Take him as seriously as you would fighting me, Clash! Heck, more!" Athena said, sitting on the ground nearby, carefully balancing twin buckets of water attached to a rod laid across her shoulders. Even talking made it jiggle, and she sucked air in through her teeth.

"Okay, sure thing! Get ready!" Said Clash, raising her sword and holding it in the ready position. She was dressed in a red t-shirt and black leggings; her hair was in a loose ponytail. She looked more fulfilled, much less the awkward scarecrow she'd once been. The time here with Athena had been everything she'd hoped for and more. Her pupil narrowed as she shifted her hips and swung.

The first blows weren't quick, but they were steady; Clash hammered the gap multiple times before she swung from her opposite side, the length of killing metal hurtling in a black arc. She was putting oomph into her attacks, and with her reach and range, looking to batter the grey knight's defenses. 

She seemed to be doing well for herself...for the first minute or so. He was staggering a bit, the hits being blocked but the impact rattling him.

Then Clash found her blows were not impacting with the same OMMMFFFFPHHH. She was still hitting, but the man's stance and blade were shifting, ever so slightly, blunting the attacks. That continued on for another two minutes.

And then she found she wasn't even hitting at all. Her sword blows were deflected or just avoided entirely, and unlike Aggie, who did dodging with lots of flips and dramatic movements, the older knight barely moved at all. If she didn't see the focus in his eyes, she'd swear she was being toyed with.

It was different than Ko. Ko was also a blade master, but she was all about advance, aggression, close ranks and crack heads. Clash wasn't sure if the man could also blunt Ko's offense if she was here. Maybe. She'd just met Sir William, Knight-Valiant Of The Realms, an hour ago.

"Hmmm. You've been forged by some real battles, I can tell. Yet there's still a lot of excess movement...though you are better at guarding your openings then the average berserker." He barely sounded winded.

That was when Aggie threw the rock at him, even as Clash swung.

William Ward snapped up a hand, grabbing the stone and dropping it even as he deflected Clash's blade into the ground, still with one hand. The man's battle awareness was astonishing; it was pretty clear he'd told Athena at some point to throw the rock on purpose.

"Okay, hold." William said, dropping his sword and rubbing his wrist. "Not as young as I used to be...You hit with immense impact despite your slim frame. How fast do you heal, may I ask?" 

Clash blinked confusedly at Aggie, before she knelt and tugged her sword out of the floor. At the question, she brightened, smiling a sharp smile with her blade across her shoulder. Her blood was a little up, and her eye was bright.

"Thanks! You're pretty fast- that's neat! I heal quick." She glanced at the arm holding her sword; the surgical scars running across her had faded to nothing but marks. She mostly just wore her eyepatch for the look. "Minor wounds don't really bother me, and whatever doesn't kill me, I can usually fight through. I actually think I heal better if I'm fighting a lot..."

"My sword heals too, actually. All it takes is a night, and then- poof! Good as new!" She said, holding out the blade one-handed and smiling fondly at it. "I never get sick, either. I just burn it out, the same with a poison or a curse." 

"So. Modification." William said.

"From birth. Like, total birth."

"I see." William said. "All right then. Athena, something to restore her vigor, could you please?"

"Yes sir." Athena headed over to a chest and began poking around. William winced, and caught himself before he stumbled.

"Clash? Can you come over here, please?" Athena said, fishing some mushrooms out of a bag when the girl did so. "You need to chew these thoroughly."

Athena lowered her voice. Clash was vaguely aware that the older man was putting his armor back on.

"He's cursed. He can't take his armor off for long without starting to get sick and weak. He wanted to be a knight, and well...that was the downside to getting to be one. And as he's gotten older, it's gotten worse. Just so you know." 

"Oh... Oh. That's awful, I'm sorry." Clash muttered, in between bites of mushroom. She smiled at Aggie before turning back and holding her sword at her side, waiting for Sir William to re-armor himself. While he did, she jangled her chain and then looked up, less excited and more grave.

"Uh... Yeah, I was engineered for War. They used magic and science to make me a killing machine. I think I was really good at it... But anyway, my Aura is only the most obvious part of all that. You can probably see, but all my actual training was either by myself or patchwork from others. I'm not a berserker, though! Uhm... Most of the time. When my blood starts boiling it gets hard not to break everybody, but that hasn't happened in awhile."

"...Disgusting. Er, not you, young lady. Just such a process. Ignore this old man, he has his ways and likes them dearly, and I don't like the sound of that. Process. If only because it snarls potential. Why be a machine of death when you can be akin to a force of nature? Anyone with a blade can butcher meat. But no matter, no matter. I just need to get a full measure of how you act if I'm going to give you some lessons. Where you are strong and where you may be weak. Now then...attack me again. All out. Like I'm your mortal enemy. You hate me."

William closed the helmet, sliding some metal into place.

"In the Honorbound garb, I can endure it. And I will not tire. I need to see when you reach a level where even you cannot fight any more. Even if it lasts into the next sunrise."

"He ain't kidding. I fought him for two hours straight and literally keeled over, unable to move. He didn't even seem to break a sweat. Though that's also due to this place being his turf. It's set up for this sort of stuff. If you two walked down the road a mile, things would be different, but that's training for later."

"Athena. Grip strength training."

"Yes, sir." Athena headed over to a set of bars and began doing a salmon ladder routine. 

"If that's what it takes, then I'm ready! We might be here awhile, but I'm ready!" Clash said, delighted. She gripped her sword and gathered herself before coming in like a wave, her enormous blade a bolt of lightning as it cracked and snarled against it's opposite's metal. She kept her aura from activating, but still attacked ferociously.

She would never be truly quick; Her sword was too much to move fast, other than in swings. But her stamina and her dexterity with the blade made up for it, as she chained together blows, switching in thrusts and overhead chops when she needed to. She stabbed, the tip of her sword slapping the ground before she hauled it up hard with her shoulders.

Clash attacked and blocked, circled and fought; she whirled on her heel and brought her sword through with bone-crushing force, hard enough to rattle the weapons on the walls. She threw out a pommel strike and then reversed her grip, the black sword swinging like a pendulum before she brought it down again.

Later, after many more blows and cracks in the floor, her eye was glowing; around her, it was warmer. Brief flashes of fire backlit her throat, and she was sweating. She was still unbowed; her breathing was heavier, but her shoulders were still pert, and she didn't seem tired at all.

"-All-out All-out?!" She asked excitedly, the air around her crackling like baking tinfoil. 

"...yes."

"UH oh." Aggie said. Even SHE was uncertain if her uncle could handle this. Maybe if he was ten years younger...

Better get some sleeping gas just in case. 

Clash's aura sprang to life, the angry red energy flowing around her knees in a large circle and bathing her in it's light. Her sword burst into roiling flames, the tongues of fire crawling up it's edges. The light of her own internal flames made her look almost demonic, even as she braced herself.

"Okay!"

The chain rattled and shivered as the blade grew great and bigger; Clash hefted the burning sword up, her grin huge.

"OKAY!"

The impact of the first blow made the walls shake, not just the weapons. Clash wielded her sword the same even at it's larger size, and threw out strike after strike that would've cleaved through houses. Cuts from retaliatory wounds bubbled and hissed, the blood sizzling in droplets along the ground; Clash swung, her aura burning before her sword grew sharper. Sharper and more on fire. 

...To his credit, the Knight-Valiant held out for another twenty minutes before his sword broke. The next slash sent cleaved metal flying.

"CLASH STOP! DONE! ABORT! ABORT!" 

"...interesting...disable...makeup..." William said on the ground. 

"HAAAAAAAAAA- oh! Sorry! Okay! Sorry!" Clash said frantically, her aura sizzling off like a grill shut down; Her sword shattered down to it's normal size, although her eye kept glowing. "I'm in check, I'm in check! I just... You're so good at this, Sir. I just wanted to tire myself out faster... are you okay?"

"I guess you can... Uhm, see the point where I start to lose it. The longer I go full power, the harder it is to turn off..." 

"You cut through my armor. That has not happened in...a considerable amount of time." The old knight was back on his feet swiftly and without effort. "So, that is what happens if you invoke power."

"...One can work with this. You should probably also go see Valse, spend a few weeks with him, but not yet. There's immense potential in you, and I want to draw it out. I'm getting too old to venture out and save the world any more. So the more I can make other people do it...

"You talk about being a killer, but it is not difficult to make an opponent fear death. I would like to make your opponent fear YOU. Because in some ways, the greatest victories are the ones where no one fights.

"But, I can see you wouldn't much care for that, so...I'll also teach you the very best ways I know to introduce someone to a blade until they stop being an issue."Ino 

"How long do you think that will take, sir?"

"...eight months? Fourteen if we take a more relaxed pace..."

"Well Clash, it's up to you. I have noticed you can get a little antsy, but I'm telling you its worth it. You think I'm a half-decent swordswoman, I just got three months of training with him."

How things change. Clash suspected three years ago, had she managed to actually knock down a supposedly invincible warrior, it would have prompted rather...negative reactions. Here, she was being offered lessons on how to knock him down even easier. And she suspected that if he HAD reacted that way, Athena would have sided with her and dropped the obedient respect she showed. Though him reacting that way said a lot why she showed him such deference. 

"I'd be honored! I want to learn whatever you'll teach me." Clash said eagerly, still feeling a little guilty for unloading on Sir William. "I need all the training I can get. I mean, I do okay with what I have-" she grinned. Her eye flicked to Aggie. "But I could be better, and I need to be. I'm really grateful just for all this..."

"I love killing, but I don't want to just clear the fields. I want to make a real difference! The others- The ones I'm going to be fighting have way more experience and skill than me. I think that if I can't beat them, then I won't be able to free them." Clash said, wiping her face with her shirt's hem.

"I don't know about saving the world, but I know I want to try and do some good. Especially if I get to fight enemies!"

"When can we start? Or are we going to keep fighting? I'm ready!" She said, happily raising her sword again. 

"Ah...enough for today. These old bones can't go on and on like they used to..."

"UH oh." Aggie said.

"Tomorrow, I think we'll just test your general endurance limits."

"...Hope you like running in mud with your legs chained together, Clash."

"And you can join her for some refresher courses, Athena."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

-----------------------

"I double-checked just to be sure, Clash, but...yeah. I can't go back with you. Even if I hadn't ruffled so many feathers...I'm being watched like a hawk, AND well...going back would be testing my luck, our luck, in a lot of ways. Gambling was never my strong suit.

"But, I didn't spend all the time you were being trained idle. I might have hit my limits when it comes to magical learning, but fortunately, you don't need a spark to make an Emotion Engine. Just the will, and the way."

Aggie produced a large box with a smile...which she tried to open dramatically.

Which failed. The lock was stuck.

"...AND THE WAY."

Second try, same as the first try, Aggie spent a minute struggling with the box before she finally slammed it down on a table, finally popping the semi-stuck mechanism open.

"I swear if it's empty...no, good."

Inside were two items. A metallic black gauntlet, and what appeared to be some kind of metal box that was slightly smaller.

"I didn't name it. You can. Try the gauntlet on. Should fit near perfectly." Athena said. "Your whole fighting style is big, wide, sweeping...the gauntlet will help you out a bit if someone somehow gets right up in your face and your aura isn't enough, whatever rare chance THAT might happen. You can use it to block. And smash someone across the face if need be. It's pretty tough...might not hold up to something like Pteron biting down on it as hard as he could, but still, pretty tough.

"And this, is for any time that you want to hit something and for whatever reason running up and introducing them to your sword isn't an immediate good idea."

Athena slapped the boxy object on top of the gauntlet, and it unfolded like a flower, pieces snapping into place to unfold into a mini-crossbow.

"Only has four shots, but it self-loads and turns any metal put on it into ammo. Like, normal metal. I wouldn't fool around with fancy stuff, might break it. Fire by flexing your wrist down. It has a LITTLE course correction, but only a little. Nice sharp little bolts, has a range of about eighty yards, pierces through some armors...it doesn't hit with much impact though. Consider it jabbing someone with the end of your sword from very far away. And trust me. Very few things can just ignore you shoving something pointy into their eye. Or throat. Or genitals." 

"Aw... I know, I guess I just hoped something would magically happen and it would be okay." Clash said wanly. "Last year was really special for me, and you were a big part of that. I know some of the good was because neither one of us really knew what we were getting into, but... I don't know, I just wish you weren't right..." She frowned.

When Aggie pulled out her labors, it was like someone had flipped a switch; Clash smiled wide before she gasped with joy and slipped the gauntlet on. She clenched her fist and then waved her fingers while her eye widened.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!! Oh my-" she gasped, delighted. No one knew her better than Aggie. Carrying and using a shield would've been cumbersome and off-balanced her, as well as actually making her less lethal; Aggie had given her one that took nothing from her- if anything, just made her more dangerous.

Slotting the box-bow onto the gauntlet, she sighted and aimed at the wall, before turning it and looking down at the sharp metal points. They mirrored her happy smile. The idea of utility and suddenly having options other than Sword Them To Death nearly made her giddy.

Undocking the crossbow, she reached out hugged Aggie tightly. There were many layers to it; Being grateful for the gifts, thankful that Aggie was her best friend, happiness that she'd come so far, and an undertone of sadness she pushed down again, as she had every time she realized it was getting closer and closer for her to leave.

She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Thank you, Aggie! You're, you're really the best. No, no, no- what's better then the best? THAT'S you!" She crowed, smiling down at her and glancing at the gauntlet again, like a kid with a new toy. When she let go, she looked pensive.

"I mean it, though. You're the best sister I could've ever asked for. I love you!" She said, grabbing her sword and hefting it up, admiring the play of light on the armor's surface. "I can't wait to punch some evil jerks right in their dumb faces!" 

"I'd say the same, but then Sunny and Cypress would complain. So, uh...you're in good company? Grand company, really." Athena said. "Though that reminds me...

"Once you get back, the processes will have been finalized...you'll be adopted into the family. Just in case you needed any more motivation. But don't let that stop you from making any new friends. Or taking any risks. That ain't you, and a Clash that ain't Clash is...I don't know. Clsh? That sounds suitably weird.

"Whatever happens, this will always be your home, if you want it to be."

Clash hugged her again; Everything she wanted to say was caught in her throat, so she just did the best she could.

Ironclad

It wasn't the noises that worried them.

Since she'd moved into her room on the ground floor (The closest to the empty stables) Jack had stayed inside it with the door closed, the only thing emerging the sounds of metal being hammered and wrenched, power tools being used, and every now and then, black streaks of cursing. She'd come down for most dinners, but she was quiet and withdrawn, almost standoffish sometimes, picking apart her food before excusing herself quickly.

Inshabel had asked them all to give her time, but Ino's curiously had gotten the better of her. Peering through Jack's keyhole, she could only see her back, not all the cases and crates she'd dolly-lifted into her room. She was hammering something... Ino knew she had power armor, but she wanted to see it.

She absent-mindedly tried the copper doorknob, and then looked shocked when it clicked and the door opened. She braced and flashed toward Jack, but she continued her work, not even looking around. Ino hesitantly walked into the room, eyeing the open boxes and tools scattered on the carpet.

"Hello!... How are you this day?" She asked brightly. Jack continued to hammer the metal in front of her on her work-table, part of a big metal arm from what Ino could see. She didn't respond, or even act as though she'd heard her.

Ino frowned and walked closer, craning her head over Jack's shoulder. "Is that your-"

Jack jumped in her seat and whirled around, her teeth clenched and anger in her eyes. Ino jerked back and put her hands up in front of her, before Jack winced and shook her head hurriedly. She waved around at Ino before jerking her thumb toward herself, running her hand over her right ear. A slim piece of metal curled around the outside, before it dipped into her ear canal and into her head.

"Sorry. I didn't have my hearing on. You spooked me, that was all." She said, looking at Ino and not smiling. Her voice was rough, almost like she was hoarse from yelling. "...Is it time for supper? I'm not hungry. Thanks, though."

"Oh, ah, no. I was just wondering, well... What are you doing?" Ino asked hesitantly. Her eye shot from the arm, to Jack, to the arm, and back again before she smiled. Jack didn't return it.

"Fixing problems before they happen. Last time I maintained my gear was before I got took down." Jack said, picking her ball-peen hammer back in hand. "Haven't got a chance to do any upkeep on it since. Sorry for the noise, I'll try and work quieter."

With that, she turned and went back to work. Ino paused before sitting down next to her, eyeing the skeleton of a big metal arm that Jack was forcing back into perfect shape. The other woman side-eyed her, but said nothing else.

"So... What was Jail like? Did you acquire a gang tattoo?" Ino asked, soldiering on.

"It was a low fucking point. It was awful." Jack said roughly, glancing at Ino's unhappy frown. "...It was bad, but parts were good for me. I had a lot of time to think. They had these enrichment classes you could do. You ever been to camp? Like those. I learned to read better. They set my hearing aid up, too. The other inmates were mostly what made it a shithole."

"Did they not like you?"

"I don't know. Probably not. It was more, when you got a pack of cigarettes and a nine foot tall, four armed lizard person that weighs five of you snatches them, what're you going to do, punch her?...That was what I did. That scaly bitch broke four of my ribs." Jack grunted, putting down the section of forearm she was working on. "...hand me my spanner, would you?"

Ino looked around, before slowly picking up a screwdriver and giving it to Jack. She looked down before looking at Ino. "No, the spanner."

Ino gave her some solder.

"A spanner is a wrench... Here. This thing." Jack said, showing it to her before loosening some bolts.

"Oh, I see...You're from Solis, like Inshabel?" Ino asked, picking up the screwdriver and examining it doubtfully.

"Yeah. A different part, though. The Eastmarch is as Far East as you can go before mountains stop you. My corner was a mining town. Mom was a blacksmith, dad died in a cave-in when I was young. My mom taught me the trade, taught me a little about engineering and all that. Things were good." Jack trailed off, eyeing the hand of her armor. The middle finger kept squeaking...

"What happened?" Ino asked. She wouldn't have, but Jack looked too angry and sad to not want to talk about it.

"Shit got bad, and shit went worse. You know exactly what I mean." She said, her green-blue eyes holding Ino's red one and measuring her. "I wasn't born deaf, let's put it that way. But that time was like Jail, too. It was real fucking dark, but I made this-" she waved her hand over her pieces and parts-"-out of it. Because of it."

"I'm sorry..." Ino murmured. She would've hugged Jack, but she almost felt that would be a bad idea. So instead-

"I, well, if you wouldn't mind... What does your armor look like? Can I see it? Please?"

She'd guessed right; Jack turned to her with real surprise, before she actually smiled for the first time Ino had seen. "You really want to?"

"Yes! Yes, please!" Ino said excitedly. Jack looked around, her smile fading.

"Give me a few minutes to gather it up. I guess I can work the kinks out afterward..."

Even standing there, only on and active, the armor rumbled. It was a low feeling, more vibration than sound, but when Jack moved, it momentarily rose. She lifted her shield and hit the edge hard to her chest, nodding in satisfaction at the solid metal knock it made. She finally felt like she was at home.

"Guess it's-" Jack started, putting her shield down.

"Who's driving a f*cking truck inside?!" Trace yelled from the attic. Jack met Ino's eye and covered her mouth with her gauntlet, before they were both chuckling.

Interview with a Maid.

The hotel felt different than what she'd expected.

It was likely due to visiting the King of Beasts before she'd seen any of Earth's other vacation homes, but to Inshabel it seemed small, almost too ordinary. The Hotel in Vegas had been a lit tower filled to the brim with excitement, fun, flash and goodwill. To Inshabel, the King of Beasts had from the first given her a feeling of movement, of activity, as though the seams of the building were bursting with the order of warriors it housed and protected.

The Mariott was nice, of course, but it was a cut and dried pleasantness. A banality. Everyone currently moving to and fro across the entranceway had places to go, people to see. As was her way, few of them noticed the quiet, tired-looking woman who shuffled out of a Women's restroom in her very finest dress, bonnet, and shawl. The threads were barely bare, and there were no obvious holes or patches in her outfit; the abundance of black was broken by white lacing and gold filigree, and the wedges she'd borrowed from Wren clicked unseen under her hemline across the tile towards the front desk.

She'd have looked very sinister, if not for her kind eyes and hesitant, unsure smile. The picnic basket she had slung under her arm also broke up her storm cloud ensemble. Although she didn't mind her usual shabbiness, she had to put her best foot forward.

"Good afternoon, Miss." She said to the clerk, before taking out a piece of paper from the top of the basket. "Would you be so kind as-"

The woman held up a finger, her eyes far away; As she continued her phone call, Inshabel demurred, lowering her eyes and crossing her hands- holding her basket- at her waist. The other woman wrote something down before hanging up, looking back at Inshabel with the mask people who worked in customer service could summon in an instant.

"Can I help you?"

"I certainly hope so, Miss. I was asked to be present for an appointment? I have an interview scheduled in room 507." She'd memorized the number. "Would you be so kind as to call ahead and inform them I've arrived?"

"Sure thing." Said the clerk, picking her phone back up. The mask slipped for a moment, and Inshabel saw weariness around her eyes. As she confirmed that the woman wearing Evil Grandmother clothing was expected, Inshabel reached into her basket and gently placed something small and wrapped in wax paper the color of milk and coffee onto her desk.

"Alright, they're expecting you, Miss Grey. Go on up- what's this?"

"A present. Thank you very much for your help- I do hope the rest of your day will be pleasant." Inshabel said, smiling and dipping to the woman before making her way to the stairwell. Elevators made her nervous. She missed the desk worker opening up her package and looking down at the homemade cookie in faint surprise.

When she finally reached the conference room, Inshabel adjusted her bonnet and gripped the basket tighter to keep her hands from rattling. She couldn't believe how nervous she was; for the first time in a long while, she was going to be judged on her own merits for something new, not critiqued on something she'd done or created. It was a very different feeling to know that she herself was on trial, not her efforts or her output. Taking a quiet breath, she knocked politely on the door before opening it and looking in.

Men and women looked up; they were in suits or power-outfits, put together, tailored and polished. Inshabel felt like a hen before parrots before one of them checked his clipboard and adjusted his glasses.

"Mrs. Grey?"

"Miss, sir, but yes. Good afternoon. Thank you." She said, closing the door behind her before taking the offered chair. The table was round, and the curtains were drawn; Inshabel was glad she'd not be tempted to search the view for an escape route. She covered her wood hands with her sleeves and smiled gently around her. The only thing that she had no answers for was a small camera-being sitting in the corner and watching them for... Whatever reason. She smiled at it too.

They introduced themselves, one by one; the Board of directors for Kuwahawi, the head of their legal team, the Corporation's high and mighty. She curtsied and clasped hands with them all, meeting their eyes and making sure they marked her.

"Before we get started- what's in the basket?"

Inshabel had spent days baking; though it might not have been relevant or important for the job she was aiming for, it still always helped to fudge the odds just a smidge.

"Oh, a little baking- it's one of my very favorite hobbies. I whipped up a batch of chocolate cookies, crumbling them and mixing them with graham cracker cake batter and marshmallow fluff. Then, I used the mixture to make muffins, before powering them with brown sugar... I call them S'muffins. S'more, ehem, muffins, you see." She said, sending her basket around the table. She felt a little foolish for having made twenty-four when there were eight people total in the room.

They asked her questions, then; she folded her hands and kept serenity in her eyes.

"So, tell us a little about yourself. Are you from Earth?" Asked Richmond, the chief financial officer.

"No, sir. I come from a planet called Solis, in the Sonon system. More specifically, I hail from Old Argo, a city state. Have any of you been to Boston? The two are similar in experience."

"Oh, was Old Argo a harbor?"

"A part of it was, yes- The city itself filled it's borders, but the west bordered Ocean and the north Mountains. It was very much a port of safe harbor whether your feet were dry or wet, really. It was a dreary sort of place, but not without it's charms and cheer. There was gray all over... The sky, the water, the buildings. Sometimes I swore even the people. Well-" She made an acknowledging sort of gesture at her joke. "But it was home, and it was quaint. I was raised by my grandmother, in a stone shack upon a hill. My parents were fisherfolk, but they were taken too soon, by the sea in my infancy."

"In any case-" She proceeded hurriedly, to fill the beat of silence."-with a new mouth to feed, My grandmother returned to her housekeeping duties, where she also saw to my own upbringing. I learned all manner of things, and my first job was at the age of fourteen." Inshabel took another piece of paper out of her basket; This was an old, brittle piece, the words scored in by quill and affirming that she'd been hired by the Lazing Selkie tavern years ago.

"I'd rather thought you all would appreciate proof of my resume's claims, rather than only having my word to stock by."

"Speaking of that- your resume mentioned you'd run estates before?" Clines asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Yes, Miss. My first was the Bluebrook youth scholam, where I worked first as an administrator before becoming Headmistress. At the start, perhaps thirty children attended. Teachers were routinely hired for showing up, educational standards were at a minimum, and the building itself was dilapidated. At one point we kept a bathroom constantly locked, due to a family of weasels denning inside. Following a period of four years, I renovated the grounds, hired a competent staff, increased attendance to over a hundred children, and made sure they received a proper education."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, my, yes. That experience remains one of my greatest joys." Inshabel said cheerfully. She still everything the kids had ever made her- pictures, and painted rocks, and bracelets beaded with pasta- in a drawer in her study. "Following that, I left Solis to restore and maintain the Edgaborough estates...."

It continued in this fashion, she recounting her work experience- not all of it, only the most relevant and impressive examples- before she hit the first hurdle. Richmond peered at her work papers before saying "There seem to be a gap in your employment history, about... three years, between Edgaborough and your stewarding the Lyle mansion."

"Ah. Yes, circumstances beyond my control forced my retreat to a safer part of the country. Sonon was not like Solis; Wars sprang up like brushfires, and Edgaborough was burnt to the ground by a border patrol. I and a juniour housekeeper were able to escape, but I do not believe anyone else was as fortunate..."

It was a lie, but the truth wasn't for them. How could she tell these buttoned-down people that Old Man Edgaborough had been insane? That he had vanished one day into the woods, raving about eyes and teeth and fingers in the dark? If only he'd been the only one. The nearby village had hidden more than skeletons in the closet. Men in robes had murdered her staff in the dark of a new moon, and attempted to open a gateway somewhere horrible by sacrificing that same juniour housekeeper...

Inshabel had rescue her and torched the cultists inside the house; The last time she'd seen her, the young maid had been sitting at her kitchen table for breakfast. Ino loved waffles, now, after having them in Vegas.

And finally...

"So- We have many candidates for this position, Miss Grey. Some of them, I won't lie to you, have more of the traditional qualities we're looking for. Why should we hire you?"

Inshabel folded her hands in front of her and gathered her resolve.

"To put it simply, because I will not let you down. I hold myself to exacting standards, and have never shied away from hard work. I am capable, resourceful, trustworthy, and I excel at taking care to ensure everyone under my charge is indomitably satisfied. I know when to delegate, and when to take the reigns; When to be hard, and when to be flexible. I care very much for the Kobbers, and very much for whatever place they call home. I would very, very much like to be an active part of that. My experience and skills may not be traditional, but I promise, they will prove more than satisfactory."

There were some more questions, but now Inshabel had relaxed; She'd done the best she could. Richmond walked her to the hotel lobby, where they shook hands for the final time.

"We have a few more candidates to interview, but you'll be hearing from us in a few days."

"Thank you very much for having me, sir. I look forward to it." She said, dipping and smiling at his back as he walked away. Before she left back through the bathroom door, she put the rest of her cookies on the front desk.

Going home.

The view outside the interstellar bus would've been breathtaking, if she hadn't been looking at nothing but stars outside for the last year and some change. Instead, she'd closed the window and sat with her hands on her knees, trying to believe that this was it, she'd really finally left her cell for the last time. She was free again, gods help everyone.

Jack smirked at the ground and yawned, glancing at her pile of luggage and toolboxes to makes sure they were all still there. She should've put it in the window seat, but she'd needed to make sure no one sat by her. Priorities and all. The bus had three levels, and it was a public-transit ship, but it was also speeding away from Space Jail 44222, and that made it beautiful. Even with all the stains on the floor, the seats with knife wounds, and the weird dog-smell.

When she did look out at the void, the blonde woman reflected in the window was a stranger. Her hair was finally growing back, but she still looked thinner then she remembered. Meaner. She'd been friendlier before she'd left the Eastmarch on Solis, but that had ran out like grease from cooking meat.

At least she had somewhere to go. When Trace had first burst out of the light in her cell, she'd figured she'd finally snapped all the way, but having someone on her side had helped her get through it. If nothing else, the tech-ghost would have to tell her where in the hell her house was, finally.

In another place entirely, the House in the dream glimmered with snow and icicles. Although they'd taken down the Christmas lights, Inshabel, Ino, and Wren had been busy cleaning the structure from top to bottom. The three of them were in the kitchen, cleaning around the ovens and the fire pit.

Ino and Inshabel were on their hands and knees, scrubbing the tiles with bristle-brushes and buckets while Wren quietly mopped.

"-and then, we'll of course have a beach day or two. I've no swimming outfits, but the sea of Earth sounds wonderous. I'm only glad I seen our applications for employment off, finally. It has been too long since we worked for our bread." Inshabel chattered as she washed her brush off and wiped the area with a wet rag. Her wooden hands were sodden with water.

"Did you put in your resume?" Ino asked, eyeing her patch and frowning. She couldn't get some of the grease up...

"Oh, yes. I believe I am up for consideration, but I rather doubt the board of directions will choose me to oversee the Hotel. The Kobbers are too important to Earth's ecology and, unless I miss my guess, economy so too. They deserve the best. It was only, the unfilled position gnawed at me. I did not like seeing it empty."

"Don't you want the job?" Wren asked, leaning on her mop and looking over.

"Certainly! It would be a challenge, I am sure, but one I am up to meeting. I would do my very absolute best... Only, running an estate isn't the same as a hostel, much less a hostel filled to the brim with special considerations. I had even heard it drove a former Hotel Manager to madness..."

"Well, I hope you get it!" Ino said brightly, scrubbing harder at the floor.

"Thank you, dear. Oh my, what time is it?"

Wren smiled, and Ino giggled; there was no time in the dream. Nonetheless, Inshabel stood and put her scrub brush back into the bucket.

"Let us hurry and set the table for dinner; Trace and Jack will be here sooner rather than later. I do hope we don't scare her off. Our home has never looked better."

"As long as she doesn't touch my food, I won't frighten her." Ino promised, dumping her bucket and Wren's into a sink before the three washed their hands and headed deeper into the candle-lit house, towards the kitchens. Inshabel had let a turkey defrost most of the day before popping it into the oven; now she had only to make the side dishes and find a few bottles of wine from the cellar.

She nervously wrung her slippery hands as she prepared to greet their guest.

The squid and the crow.

Eva was on the Beach at night, laying down like she was making a sand angel and staring up at the dark sky. There were so many stars out here... Well, out there. Above her, all the lights from the tourist traps and beachfront property were blinding them out, but beyond the ocean, they were there. The moon seemed to hold them to it jealously, lest they go dark too. She sighed and settled deeper into her thick, baggy black hoodie and tried not to feel so darned homesick.

 She'd never been away from her family this long, even when they were sent out to work. She missed her own bed, her own room, not having to eat vending machine treats every day and get crows to keep watch over her building. She'd planned on Ethelstane finding her eventually- they were related closely, and he knew her too well- but he was right. What was she doing here? Chasing some probably-real, maybe-imaginary cup so she could wave it in all their faces? It was just another trinket, when she got right down to it, like the bike-locks and pocket knives and necklaces and other bits of shiny trash she collected and hoarded-

Eva shuddered on the beach, and looked up at the stars a lot more plaintively. She felt lost, and so small. She didn't even hear the sound of something emerging offshore and bobbing with the surf as it watched her.

Scylla had lurked near the shoreline, staying close to an overhang nearby in deeper waters during the day and eating new species of fish, things she'd never seen before, and keeping away from the light circle in the ocean above this one. When it turned off at night, she returned to the beach and hunted the shallows, and a few times, she'd gone all the way into the next layer, where the water was so weightless-had so little pressure- so little presence- it was like it wasn't there at all. The ocean behind her broke on the sand, and she'd investigated a few things, her lights off, her too-big eyes wide and flashing around.

The white towers were made of the same kind of bone as the whales closer in to the shore had been; except... She could see some of them just sitting there in the distance, not moving at all. No sound, nothing at all. She'd gotten daring, closed in and bit one, but it wasn't flesh- just bone. It made her teeth hurt. But they weren't alive, not like her, not anymore. Neither were the tongues some of the surface-dwellers had been sitting on- she'd found them left behind on the beach, and they were like braided seaweed, not muscle. That alone had made her much less afraid to surface now and again.

She'd only met two humans while she went about her routes in the dark- a little one who'd lost his fake foot, until she gave it back to him. The other was an old one who'd first been scared before being deeply confused by being talked at by a brightly-lit squid girl in halting German. He'd been nice, he'd given her some teeny red shiny thing on a stick to eat and told her about Berlin.

Now she surged up from the surf, walking onto the beach, her tentacles trailing in the water behind her. She looked down at Eva from afar, her lights dim and murky as she studied her. Scylla didn't see herself often, since she had only a few hard-water pieces in her former home that had reflected what was in front of them, but she knew that look. It was something she could fix.

Eva was deep in thought, feeling lost and lonely before out of nowhere some weird things was leaning over her. It was all mouth and eyes, and tentacles hung from it's sides.

"CAW?!" She yelled out of reflex and surprise, jerking upright.

"Gute Nacht." Eva's eyes snapped to the girl wearing the thing like a hat, before she did a double take. Her hand fluttered away from the pocket of her jacket and her sword's hilt.

"Was ist los mit dir? Bist du hungrig?"

Eva blinked. It must've been some weird ocean-people dialect... She could almost understand the squid girl. She probably didn't speak Bird. She studied her cautiously before replying.

"Nothing. I am just taking it all in, thinking about such stuff and... And things. I am not hungry, only tired..."

Scylla blinked rapidly and tilted her head. It must've been some weird dirt-people dialect...She could kind of understand the other girl, but not that much was coming through.

"Oh... Wie shade. Ich bin." She said, before her stomach gurgled. She'd met a sea turtle today and hadn't gotten around to getting food before the Sharks came out... Sharks were bullies. They didn't like to let her eat when they were around.

"You are?" Eva asked, before she stood up and smiled confidently. "I have some rations at my room- Em and Ems, with peanuts! Fish from Sweden, one or to popped tarts... I'll gladly share! Do you dwell around here? Maybe you can help me..."

"Sie haben Fleisch?" Scylla chirped.

"Sure, most likely! Come on, I'll take you there-"

Scylla took a step back from Eva's outstretched hand and looked at her doubtfully, turning around to gaze at the ocean.

"Oh, no, all is well! I promise, I am of good heart and intentions. Here- I'll tell you my name for trust! My real name, not some fake or any tricks. I'm Eva, Eva Corvus! What's your name?

"Name? Scylla!" She said, excited from Eva's excitement, lighting up. Literally, into a pale blue.

"It's an honor to meet you, miss, now let's be off- however am I going to sneak you in? Maybe you can be my granddaughter... Does your, eh, squid helm thing come off?"

"Nope!" Scylla said, following after Eva and glancing up happily at the moon. Maybe this meant things would start going right.