Reoccuring One Night Stands, DDLG, Aftercare, Casualness, Fingers in Mouth, Collars, Dirty Talking, Masturbation, Underwear Bulges, Very Experienced Partners, Love Marking / Affectionate Bruising, Uppity (Expresses an interest in engaging in an RP in which the submissive and/or bottom character is combative and disobedient in any number of ways.), Story Driven, Anal Sex (Recieving), Giving Oral Sex, Receiving Oral Sex, Throat Penetration, Gagging, Vaginal Sex, Cunt Worship, Swallowing Semen, Soft Cum Facials, Sloppy Seconds, Internal Cumshots, Creampie, Non-Consensual Scenes, Sexual Restraints, Master / Submissive, Master / Slave, Master / Pet, House Toy (Refers explicitly to the use of a submissive by a predetermined group or set of dominants that share the submissive.), Discipline / Punishments, Spanking, Begging, Sadism / Masochism, Choking, Hair Pulling, Ice / Snow, Sexy / Slutty clothing, Smoking, Suits, Gags, Twincest, Master and Slave, Ageplay (Older men for younger women), Human Cocks, Monster Cocks, Anatomically Correct, Curvaceous, Large Breasts, Large Cocks, Lycanthropy, Demons, Vampires, Incubi, Shower / Bath, Sleep/Dream Scenes, Nightclub / Bar Scenes, Nonsexual Roleplay, Biting, Cock / Balls Worship, Double Penetration,Extreme Tightness, Heat / Estrus, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Male Partners, Older Partners, Prostitution/Sex worker, Pseudo-Rape, Size Differences (1 - 3 feet), Triple Penetration, Twins/Clone, Coercion / Blackmail,Titfucking, Hatefucks, Moral Opposites, Deep Plot, Long-term.
Race information, various scenes, snippets and more.
Most Common Faces (OCs)
Lepi - An impressively long info dump
Lepi Physiology and Anatomy:
The Lepi, also commonly referred to as the Lepricanians, have a humanoid frame with a small tuft of fur at the base of their spine, and the addition of stalk-like antennae on the crown of their head resembling rabbit ears. These antennae are covered in micro-fine sensilla and provide a sort of peripheral gauge of the surrounding area, sensing by touch, air motion, heat, and vibration (sound). However, Lepi have an actual set of ear-like receptors, complete with tympanic membrane and external auditory canal, at the base of their skull. These concavities are barely noticeable to the unassisted eye and are turned at an angle to ensure they aren't receptive to being clogged by dirt and skin particles.
The Lepi come in a variety of colors, with fine hair covering their whole body, though it is not a type of fur as many assume. It is better compared to the fine hair covering humans, though Lepi hair is slightly more dense and consistent than what humans have in their more vulnerable regions (legs, arms, arm pits, pubis). Melanocytic nevus created patterns on the skin can be seen through the hair, and they vary in size depending on region. The markings often run up the sides of the Lepi's body, from knee level to throat symmetrically, though sometimes extend to the cranial hairline. It is a sign of great beauty among the Lepi to possess a 'full body' set of markings.
Lepi noses possess a slight incline to their nasal cavity, which flattens the tip of their nose in a manner better associated with a shortened nasal bridge. This is coupled with a widened ethmoid bone to give their features a flatter, sleeker appearance than that of humans. Lepi have jawlines similar to humans, but lack canines. They also have a natural malocclusion of their two forefront incisors which is commonly referred to as 'buck teeth'.
Lepi are lanky and more narrow than humans with longer torsos and limbs, but they are still capable of mating with most humanoids. Lepi mate seasonally, usually in the spring, and female Lepi have litters of three to seven Kits, though are capable of having more. When born, Lepi are blind and require constant supervision for the first 8 weeks of their lives. After they gain sight, they require less supervision and are more capable of functioning at a higher standard of motor skills. Mental development is similar to that in humans, but their physical maturity is refined in half the time, making Lepi more prone to be poached early in their life because they are assumed to be fully grown.
Lepi are bipedal, with two arms and two legs.
Lepi have four fingers and an opposable thumb on each hand, and four toes on each foot, with one dew claw attached to their ankle bones.
Lepi irises are commonly colored in pale reds, greys, browns, or golds, though sometimes are light blue or violet.
Lepi hair and skin coloration vary depending on which region they descend from, with darker skinned Lepi coming from areas closer to Leprica's equator, and lighter Lepi hailing from the far north or the far south. Common coloration includes an albino look of pale red eyes and pale skin, a more standard mocha coloration with gold or grey eyes, and a black coloration with brown or coal colored eyes.
The average Lepi male lives to be 115-118 (earth) years old.
The average Lepi female lives to be 123-127 (earth) years old.
The average Lepi male is 6.11-7.4 feet tall.
The average Lepi female is 6.4-6.8 feet tall.
Planet Leprica details and composition:
Leprica, also known as Le-in'mar Pak, is a planet within the Alpha Magrathea Quatro galaxy. One of seven life sustaining planets in the star system, Leprica is known for the great expanse of savannah that stretches much of its land mass. The three major continents of Leprica are Nerl, Bonchiwei, and Vayon, spread across four oceans. Philovesk is the largest of the four, spanning much of the planet between Bonchiwei and Vayon. Many of the local fauna on Leprica are mammals or birds, while amphibians and reptiles are not native to the planet. Any of these now inhabiting Leprica are a byproduct of commercial travel and illegal trading.
Bonchiwei is the largest of the three continents, surrounded by island chains on all sides. The native population is an industrious one, as their main exports are raw mining materials like coal, copper, iron, precious gems, and crude oil/fossil fuels. Their burrows connect in intricate networks beneath the surface of the continent, making it easy to traverse Bonchiwei without ever having to journey topside.
Vayon is the second largest continent, with the largest amount of temperate forest to the land mass, making living above ground a much easier feat. There along small forests, Lepi inhabit adobe style homes topside, with clay and kiln work as their main source of revenue. They also work in glass and metal, producing weaponry, armor, ornaments, décor, and more.
Nerl is the smallest of Leprica’s continents and is considered by the native population to be the least technologically advanced of the three. Here, the Lepi live in small tribe like Burrows underground with vast spaces between themselves and neighboring tribes. Resources are gathered by hand or farmed within the burrow, and very little progress has been made for the Lepi of Nerl when it comes to social, economic, or political change. Tribes have an Alpha who leads the packs of families and the community shares in the responsibilities of raising and teach children.
Galaxy: Alpha Magrathea Quatro
Planet Type: Exoplanet of a binary star system
Satellites: N/A
Internal structure of Leprica:
1. Crust: 245 km thick
2. Mantle: 500 km thick
3. Core: 1,900 km radius
Orbital Distance: 113.83654 million kilometers
Orbital Period: 383.1 Earth Days
Radius: 5,836 km
Day Length: 26 hours, roughly 14 hours of light.
Surface Pressure: 96.958 kPa
Surface Gravity: 8.144 m/s
Surface Temp: 37C
Mass: 0.893 Earth Masses
Water Sources: 61% of Leprica is made up of water sources (Oceans, Lakes, Rivers, Ice shelves and glaciers)
Biomes (by spacial size): Temperate Grassland (50%), Temperate forests (21%), Boreal forests (14%), Arctic (9%), Alpine (6%).
Inhabitants:
Lepi: Commonly known as the Lepricanians, are a race of rabbit-like humanoids from the planet of Leprica. These Lepi share several qualities with the previously mentioned rabbits, but they deny any ties they may have to the Earth natives, and scientists agree the two are separate biologically. Lepi are community driven creatures, living in bands of at least ten individuals, with several males and females to take up the tasks required for the unit to survive. Depending on the area, Lepi may live above ground, or below it, though the reason for living below ground relates more to the environment than it does to regional preference. The planet is primarily prairie covered, without many trees to aid in keeping the winds blocked, so tornadoes and twisters are fairly common, especially in the inland locations.
Along the coasts, major storm surges have been known to strike, but the Lepi tend to keep far from the oceans. Inland lakes are commonly settled around, but any source of water larger than the eye can see the edge of is considered bad luck. Underground water sources are the most coveted, and a fully fledged burrow is one with its own below ground supply of water.
The Lepi are gatherers, with hunting being a secondary priority because their race is unable to digest most animal products. So, they refrain from killing the other wildlife on Leprica, which in turn causes a shifting in the food chain at times. There are countless types of big game predators roaming the top side of Leprica, but those which had been known to live underground were eradicated by the Lepi centuries ago. Lepi are cunning and agile, and use their natural flexibility to evade and outrun the massive beasts they compete with on the surface.
The Lepi believe a boy becomes a man when he downs an armored Prixri (giant bat-like creature with slender stilt legs) on his own, though this practice is beginning to die off in modern times. Lepi are arranged to be paired by the oracle of the burrow when they are mentally mature, and they live with that partner for the rest of their lives; though sex is not considered something required of the Lepi in their union. Sex is considered a bodily function, and in the Spring, mating season turns male Lepi in aggressive and domineering beasts who would kill to mate with their choice of women. During their mating season, it’s legal to murder another Lepi if you have issued a formal demand that they stand down, and they do not.
Female Lepi are considered a commodity, as only 1 in 30 Lepi are born female. Some scientific testing done has shown that Lepi sperm is preassigned with the genders it will communicate with the egg, which is a problem because female Lepi sperm is naturally slower to travel, and less inclined to attach to the egg itself. There is no known medical procedure to fix this yet. In the mean time, female Lepi find themselves carefully guarded and cared for, though in this over protectiveness, they often are kept from venturing topside. They are expected to refrain from any hard labor or work, and instead focus on the creation and care of young Lepi. Female Lepi almost always outlive their male counterparts.
In recent times, the Lepi have faced a startling number of intergalactic poachers taking young Lepi from the more rural areas of Nerl. The tribes there are more cautious in recent years, but lack the necessary means to fight back alien slavers, and usually end up dead in the process of defending themselves.
World Population: 171 million Lepi
Largest agglomeration: Huunvech Burrow, Bonchiwei, Leprica
Mostly Widely Spoken Languages: Leschpri, Galactic Standard.
Government: Chosen Alpha males for each burrow, they congregate to form war pacts in times of threat.
Religion: The Lepi are spiritual and see ancestral spirits in everything. They value life above all things, but also reason with death as being the next big adventure. Oracles of Burrows are the ones expected to commune with the spirits of the ancients, as well as decide what two adult Lepi are meant to be placed together in a family unit.
On base levels, Rasmodians have an appearance distinctively similar to humans, with minor pigment differences in shades and tones.
Rasmodians are bipedal, with two arms and two legs.
Rasmodians have four fingers and an opposable thumb on each hand, and six toes on each foot.
Rasmodian eyes have two sets of lids, one being an inner nictitating membrane that acts to keep finer dust and pollen particles out of the eyes, while the other acts similarly to human eyelids.
Rasmodians tend to have more vibrant coloration to their irises and body hair, as it works as camouflage in the dense tropical jungles of their home planet.
Rasmodian skin tone tends to be a splash of pastels, from off-white to lilac to powder blue, as their lives are spent beneath the massive rainforest canopies of their homeworld, so the pigment never darkened for adaptation purposes.
The average Rasmodian male lives to be 135-139 (earth) years old.
The average Rasmodian female lives to be 143-147 (earth) years old.
The average Rasmodian male is 6.1-6.6 feet tall.
The average Rasmodian female is 5.9-6 feet tall.
Planet Rasmov Prime details and composition:
Rasmov Prime, also know as Rasmod Prime, is a planet within the Canis Asteropaios Zagreus galaxy that boasts a vast Pangaea-like continent called Il'lyesk surrounded by the Tatonoorian Ocean on all sides. Similar to Earth in regards to a mixed collection of native flora and fauna (mammals, birds, fish, reptiles, amphibians), Rasmov Prime also is the homeworld to four sentient races, including the Rasmodians. Most of the land mass of Il'lyesk is covered in jungle-like tropical forest, with only the largest settlements having been cleared the local plant life.
Haalar is the largest of Rasmov Prime's moons, and could possibly host life, though currently only contains a series of domed research facilities aside from the intergalactic space hub for the Canis Asteropaios Zagreus galaxy.
Mneutous is the second largest moon, and has large iron deposits within the crust, coloring it a rusty red color.
Es'kiipicular is the smallest of Rasmov Prime's moons, and barely constitutes as a moon in the typical sense. Scientists argue it isn't a moon, but Rasmodians still have a festival yearly in its honor.
Galaxy: Canis Asteropaios Zagreus
Planet Type: Exoplanet of a binary star system
Satellites: Haa'lar, Mneutous, and Es'kiipicular
The internal structure of Rasmov Prime (Rasmod Prime):
1. Crust: 280 km thick
2. Mantle: 700 km thick
3. Core: 2,200 km radius
Orbital Distance: 131.99471 million kilometers
Orbital Period: 739.6 Earth Days
Radius: 7,414 km
Day Length: 36 hours, roughly 21 hours of light.
Surface Pressure: 98.925 kPa
Surface Gravity: 8.358 m/s
Surface Temp: 37C
Mass: 0.893 Earth Masses
Water Sources: 61% of all Rasmov Prime is made up of water sources (Oceans, Lakes, Rivers, Ice shelves and glaciers)
Biomes (by spacial size): Tropical forests (52%), Temperate forests (21%), Boreal forests (11%), Arctic (10%), Alpine (4%), Temperate Grassland (2%).
Rasmodians: Commonly known in the intergalactic community as the 'conjoined twin' species, Rasmodians are unique in their dependent natures, as no Rasmodian can live without their twin. Rasmodians can either be monozygotic ("identical"), meaning that they develop from one zygote that splits and forms two embryos, or dizygotic ("fraternal"), meaning that they develop from two eggs, each fertilized by separate sperm cells. Rare cases of conjoined twins have occurred, though very few live longer than a day or two.
Rasmodians are bound to their twin for life, which has been defined as a third categorization of biological bonds humanoids create. While the two bonds most akin to humans are social and sexual bonds, Rasmodian's create a bond at conception called a Subarachnoid bond. When a pair of Rasmodians are separated for prolonged periods of time, their posterior pituitary gland's increase the levels of oxytocin produced, which triggers a Subarachnoid hemorrhage in their brain. Rasmodians rarely survive this, though those who do are forced to live with extensive brain damage, and physicians often end their suffering should this point be reached.
Rasmodians are taught from a young age their frailty, but their culture is one that promotes the bond between twins, and much of their early lives revolve around separation from other pairs to strengthen their personal bond. Education is primarily done through paired tutoring, where an older set of Rasmodians teach a younger pair the skills of their profession. Rasmodians know their place in the hierarchy of Rasmodian society from a young age and are expected to follow the loose caste system without issue. More affluent families settle themselves off Rasmov Prime to strengthen intergalactic relations and the upper echelons of Rasmodian citizens that remain on their home planet supplement wages for those unable to make profits in their ventures.
Rasmodian culture is a very accepting one, and for generations, the royalty of Rasmov Prime have extended a hand of welcome to any visitors looking to experience their culture. The main exports of Rasmov Prime are precious gems, raw materials and textiles, and an energy source commonly referred to as 'Pixie Dust' (KH515 Oxidized Rasmodian Coal), which is used by space-faring ships within quadrant due to it's lack of pollutant properties. Instead, Pixie Dust leaves a shimmering trail of crystallized diamond particles in its wake, which has become the trademark image of Rasmov Prime.
"Come see our Diamonds!"
Rasmodians often marry within their caste, and their relationships are based on necessity more than genuine feelings of affection. Love within Rasmodian society is a freely given and openly shared emotion, but the strongest bond a Rasmodian will ever share is the one they share with their twin, which means what they feel for their spouses will always be secondary. Because of this, marriages are little more than contractual promises between the involved parties that children with be made, and if one party is unable to provide their portion of the contract, the marriage is considered null and void. Infertility within Rasmodians is uncommon, but those who cannot reproduce often resign themselves to the Temple of the Rasmodian Pantheon.
Pro'kynovarians: The second largest sentient population on Rasmov prime, they are a nomadic people who roam the grasslands of the south, raising various cattle creatures. They resemble apes, hairier and more broad than Rasmodians, with flattened features and three sets of elongated arms they use to walk with. Their legs have shrunk close to their body, there only for balance purposes.
Aqueetans: Residing along the coasts, where the trees are least dense and the sea swallows the sandy beaches, the Aqueetans live secluded. Much of their lives are spent in the waters of the Tatonoorian Ocean, where they refrain from much contact outside their respective race. They are deep sea hunters and gatherers, and resemble massive salamanders, with several sets of arms and legs, and heavily armored hides similar to those of sharks.
Hessnuls: Hessnuls reside in the forested regions alongside the Rasmodians, and are considered a sign of good fortune for the cities they reside in. They are small, bipedal and dear-like, with miniature tusks protruding from their lower jawline, and hooved feet. They are also polycerate, with horns that branch out in intricate knots over the span of the Hessnul's life.
World Population: 4.2 billion (Roughly 44% Rasmodian, 27% Pro'kynovarian, 18% Aqueetans, 9% Hessnul, 2% non-indigenous races)
Largest agglomeration: Bruunei Khyth, State of Repistra, Rasmov.
Mostly Widely Spoken Languages: Rasmodian, Pro'kyno, Galactic Standard.
Government: Rasmodians have a royal family, a congressional governing council, a religious council, a liberal arts confederacy, and a cultural liaison.
Royal Family: The Diadiot family has been a lasting remnant of the Rasmodian culture's once reigning Empire for generations, with Lady Diva Fab (Noi Sola Diadot) as their figurehead, with her twin Nuri Drela Diadot one of the elected representatives of the Capital state, Repistra.
Congressional Governing Council: The actual ruling body of the Rasmodians, the governing council has two representatives from each state within Il'lyesk, and decide matters of importance by vote. States have an elected president, though townships vary in regards to their leadership choices. More rural areas still have chieftains to their tribes.
The Temple of the Rasmodian Pantheon Council: See Religion.
Liberal Arts Confederacy: The arts are Rasmov Prime's most encouraged activities, and almost all Rasmodians have a liberal arts-related talent. The Liberal Arts Confederacy is a series of schools and colleges to assess levels of talent, as well as further teach Rasmodians their perspective art. Common arts include Dancing, Singing, Acting, Design, Architecture, Painting, Sculpting, and Writing.
Rasmov Prime's Cultural Liason: The Empress of their homeworld is the Lady Diva Fab the seventh, who also hosts the galactic game show Bust A Move. Her social interactions with the universal celebrities keep Rasmov Prime in the spotlight with youth culture.
Largest Religion: RPC. Polytheistic. Followers choose their gods from the existing pantheon of acknowledged deities. Deities have been known to be of different races, genders, social standing, and religions than the Rasmodians who worship them, though highly regarded Rasmodians can find their way into the pantheon. This practice dates back several thousand years to a point when the Rasmodian homeworld of Rasmov Prime began receiving contact from neighboring galactic species. Due to their inquisitive natures, the Rasmodians studied interactions with other life forms of equal or greater intelligence, and in time devised a religious institution to pay homage to these admired outsiders. Since then, countless variations and changes have been made to the original pantheon and an acting council of six filters who is and isn't a 'God' by their lexicon's standards.
To date, there are 1,191 active deities, and 13,977 inactive deities (either because of absorption into another Deity's worshipers, or simply because the deity is no longer appealing to Rasmodians.) Rasmodian Pantheon Culture, or RPC, is the common name. Other names include Primeism, Twinity, and Followers of the Pantheon.
Not enough to quit the job, yet, but things had certainly escalated in her short time working in Bakersfield. A secretary by day, a femme fatale by night. The story practically writes itself. Unfortunately, things weren't anywhere near the picturesque scenario comic books painted the lives of superheros to be. Super humans. Metahumans. Whatever branch of humanity you chose to categorize genetically defunct individuals. Wasn't that the first misconception? The idea that super powers made you a super person? Tish knew better than to think her abnormalities somehow made her kindness more genuine, or her work ethic more noticeable. The only prominent virtue she could boast about was her patience, and even that was running thin with her new temp position.
A hiring manager had thought it best to keep her presence as a temporary employee under wraps, stating there was no reason to announce she was only sticking around for a few months because it 'wasn't their business'. Maybe that was the plan all along. Tish could tell within the first week of working that she didn't fit into their strict and regimental daily grind, struggling to keep up with the demands of not only the man she worked for personally, but his superiors as well. With the threesome of business suit wearing dictators pulling her reigns, it was surprising she managed to get any work done at all. Visions of the company's promised retirement package were a far stretch from the uniform cubicle they had set her up in, complete with matching beige office chair and steel bottomed desk.
At least, at night, she picked what she was wearing.
Spandex didn't seem appropriate for her nine-to-five, but it was a helluva lot more comfortable than heels from Target. Another common misconception attached to superheroes: Every one of them is wealthy. Tish wasn't destitute or anything so drastic, but her outfit was handmade, if that meant anything.
Outside the bland office walls, a world needed saving, but try explaining that to her employer and Tish would quickly find herself back to looking over local wanted ads. "Fuck." She murmured offhandedly, finishing up a collective piece on why her employer needed to have Fridays off. Arguing in his stead, the paper went into great detail about the importance of defining down time and how a motivated, well rested worked was a productive one. Tish wouldn't be getting Fridays off, nor would anyone else, but like hell Mr. Richards wouldn't. Ticker typing at the speed of light (or whatever a less exciting equivalent would be), she finished just as clock hands ticked to the bold number five on the clock face, giving her reason to dutifully straightened her posture while saving the document.
She left in a hurry, trying to miss being soaked by looming black clouds dotting the skyline. Hyetal conditions in town made this a seasonal locale rather than a more popular retirement destination, but that never stopped the elderly from settling their final nests in the quaint suburbs skirting the shopping district. Tish lived on the opposite side of Bakersfield, where crack whore's argued on her front stoop about who's baby daddy was worse, and she was okay with this. As awkward a conversation topic it made for her parents when she explained she gave up her plans to move to Los Angeles, Tish was firm in her decision. Something about the cushy, albeit obscure, berg made her feel wanted.
Maybe not by the crack whores, but by someone.
The drive was done in a drizzle with soupy roads framed by tall pines and coniferous foliage that reminded her of Christmas cards no matter the season. Bespectacled eyes glanced at the digital clock on the dash, noting it only took twenty minutes if she played the 'earn a drink' game. If she made it home in a half hour or less, by the rules of the game, Tish earned herself the right to order takeout and forget about any possibilities of playing hero for the townsfolk.
Of course, just in time to see her pull into the driveway, a familiar figure made their approach to the driver's side of her car. Tish met them still seated, simply rolling the window down with a small frown.
"What's the verdict, Tish?"
"Well, I'd say you have ten seconds to tell me why you're here before I ram my front end into your knees." Her expression remained a disapproving one. "You know, because we've had this talk fifty fucking times at this point-"
"Look, chill a minute. I'm just yanking your chain, okay?" Mark was a tall guy, and he used his height advantage to lean into the roof of her car, yet somehow keep the space between them sizable enough that she couldn't outright hit him out of possible irritation. "Lemme come inside so we can discuss it privately." His chin tipped towards the sky as if rain was enough reason to get into her place.
Gritting her teeth, Tish didn't necessarily agree to let him in, but her feet hurt in these heels and she wasn't going to argue with her neighbors able to see it. Pulling away slowly, the vehicle lurched into her usual parking space, visible refuse piled on the embankment between it and the curb. When she managed to take a few slow breaths to calm her growing anger, Tish exited the vehicle and led the two of them to her stoop. Once they were inside, the door managed to click in tune with her irritation showing itself.
"So, what did you need, Mark? Did you need another fucking clue? Maybe a fucking shoulder to cry on again? Did you need Mandy or Rachel or FUCKING MARTHA?!" Even if she was belting her questions out like accusations, she didn't stop moving, heels kicked off on the doormat in time with the latter name. "Or maybe you've come to apologize? Tell me you've changed? Hm?"
Mark looked sober, his eyes set on the smaller woman like he was trying to keep his cool even if she didn't need to. "No."
"So what? What?!"
"Red Horn is missing. They found a note at his place, but it's not good." Sitting on the arm of her sofa, Mark brought a hand to rub his chin. "The Brotherhood is worried, but they're pulling some obscure shit. Sort of shit that doesn't make sense..."
Tish felt the weight of his words and let it drag away the residual anger. "You're serious? About Red Horn?"
"I fucked up doing what I did, but pretend for a second I'm not the fucking Antichrist, Tish. I wouldn't lie about this." Rising back to his normal staggering height, mark added with a grin. "Though you'll laugh when you see The Jade Wing's new costume."
"Oh, figures you throw her into this-"
"Jade. Bikini." Mark made for the door with a soft chuckle. "Just be safe and we'll talk when I get more information. Didn't mean to interrupt your takeout night."
He left before he could catch the surprise that washed over Tish's face. He remembered her takeout night rules? "Fuck."
Googling didn't find much in regards to crimes against super humans, but she knew his secret identity and used that to acquire a blurb of a missing person's report regarding Red Horn. Real name Caesar Castro, he ran the hardware store over by Wendy's. Older now, he rarely even donned his Red Horn digs anymore because of an incident a year or so back. If she could recall the details correctly, Caesar caught a bullet to the side of his jaw and they had to recreate the lower half of his face, which left him reasonably disenchanted by crime fighting. Tish hadn't realized he was pushing forty though, and almost felt sorry he hadn't retired just a bit sooner. Better to leave the business intact and become a pariah from the meta community than stick with it and end up dead, right?
So where was Caesar Castro now?
Tish ran sore fingers through lush locks and sighed, wracking her brain for reasons why anyone would target Caesar. Of all the threats to crime, a retired and balding superhero didn't fit the usual criteria. Deciding it best she take time in the morning to look into the incident more clearly, the woman shot off an email to Mr. Richards explaining she was coming down with a cold, and she wouldn't be coming in tomorrow.
Ironically, Tish was getting Friday off after all.
<div align="justify]Remy had a smile like a jack-o-lantern, all grins and sneers. Tish hadn't asked him how someone his age could be missing so many teeth, but she did spend far too much time staring at his mouth. If he noticed, he didn't feel it necessary to mention it, but that didn't make the woman feel any less guilty doing so. "Guess you called me 'bout the news. Been hearin' lots of things- not so good things." Remy's eyes seemed too wide for his face. He rarely blinked, and when he did, it made an impression of being painful. "But I'm thinking this isn't just strange events anymore. We're talkin' cataclysmic, babe. Talkin' poisoned water supplies and cosmic fireballs rainin' down. Talkin' a big picture scenario..." Tish shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't think it's quite at that level-" "Not yet! But fuck if it isn't in a few weeks, or months, or even years!" Remy knocked back his mug of luke warm coffee with more gusto than Tish could pretend to possess. It was noon on a Friday and the diner smelled like cobbler and burnt toast, depending on which way she faced. The waitress was taking orders nearby and Tish debated on giving her a smile to apologize for Remy. She had made the call because no matter how manic her companion could be at times, he was rarely wrong. The statements he made were sitting in her gut like a palpable weight, threatening to drop through her torso and shred her intestines on its way to the floor. Good thing she knew how to feign a smile, even if half her efforts were directed towards keeping her left eye from twitching. "But you know the Brotherhood an' you know the stakes. Even if something was up, are they gonna tell you? No." Coffee swished over the edges of the mug as he took another sloppy gulp, which left Tish studying his apocryphal statement in detail. "Remy, you're starting to sound fucking burnt out." Having been sipping a diet coke, she could tell the ice cubes were just frozen tap water, and the diluted sugar shit she was swallowing did nothing to ease her apprehension. Trusting what she was being told meant disregarding her years spent working with the Brotherhood, but Remy was so rarely wrong, she couldn't help admitting she was curious. "What makes you think something's up? This got to do with Red Horn?" Tish didn't get into the details of her previous evening, nor did she really feel comfortable dwelling on waking up on top of her keyboard with web pages run by conspiracy theorists with backgrounds as long and winding as Remy's. "Lemme lay this on you slow- ease you into where I'm going." Snagging a sugar packet from the dispenser, his pointer sidled it away from their eating space. "This is the Brotherhood, singular. A collective of hundreds of metahumans like you." Taking another packet, it was dropped to the side, though his fingers worked to fold it in half. "Now, you have Goliath and the villains. Less lucrative organization, but they play dirty. In their case, less is more." Remy folds the packet again lengthwise, leaving is a fourth the size of the original. "But picture this, sweetheart. Picture the Brotherhood and all it's member base, and picture them all working to weed out all the bad guys. Picture they succeed. Years go by, and Goliath is suddenly a less capable David." Watching, Tish's brows furrow at the misnomer, but the topic remains puzzling. "Okay. I'm missing something." "Tish, what happens when there's no more use for your kind? You clear out Goliath, and you clear out the smaller crime syndicates, and what are you left with?" Her shoulders shrugged when her lids closed so she could suck down sweet pastry air. "We go back to being citizens?" "FUCK NO!" Remy's hand crashed down on the counter with a violent smack, scattering the sugar packets in every direction. Patrons from their flanks murmured and gasped, but the male didn't seem at all discouraged. "They fucking do away with you. Gone with the wind! You'll be hunted like witches and put the stake, as a matter of speaking. You'll become a fairytale. A story of lorn. Nothing but a 'once upon a time', and do you know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because there's no bigger threat than a population with the power to stop those in authority." The discussion had gone from overzealous to intimidating, and the secretary shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Spectacled gaze lowered to the mess on the counter, afraid to meet Remy's features for the time being. "I don't think that's the case Remy. We would know if that was the case." Already retrieving a stack of crumbled newspaper clippings from his coat pocket, they were tossed at Tish with a scoff. "Then explain these to me. Red Horn, Paradox, The Masquerade, Roger Dodger, Typhoon. All gone." Opening each of the news clippings, Tish scanned their contents one after the next, the images accompanying the articles individuals she immediately recognized. The stories all read the same. "Missing. How could they all be missing?" Her mouth was suddenly very dry, her tongue a sandpaper grater that rubbed obnoxiously against the roof of her mouth. "Remy, I don't know... I didn't know." "Well, now you do." Continuing to dig around his pocket, a tattered twenty was produced and dropped neat his mug. "I'll keep digging for all the things everyone else seems to miss, but you're going to need to talk to your people. That's your circle of friends, Tish. You're obligated to find out just what the hell is happening." Remy rose and brushed down the front of his slacks before shaking his head at her. "I could be wrong, but what else is taking out metahumans?" Tish was glad he didn't wait for an answer to leave because it gave the woman pseudo privacy to steady her breathing and rest her face in her hands. Pristine makeup was a thing of the past as the back of her hand was used to rub her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. Looking like a raccoon seemed to pair well with being hit by feelings of fear. At the diner in question, she was a pariah by circumstance, but if Remy was on the money with his hunch, she was in danger. Everyone she knew was in danger. "Mark..." Rising to her feet, Tish left without a word to settle into the front seat of her car and contemplate life, though she inevitably checked out her phone. The horoscope application showed an update and she checked it with visible misery plastered across her visage. It read: A revelation will change the way you do things. Be strong. A dark chuckle broke from her lips, hollow like a shed carapace, and just as miniscule. "Strong... Of course."
[/align]
At one point years prior to this ordeal, Chance Arden had been a passenger on a train headed to Cairo. Even from her seated position in that rustic first class cabin, she could hear the distant whirs and clicks as pistons shifted and steam shot from heated machinery. Back in day, technology was nothing so lifeless as it was presently, but instead inspired a sense of wonder towards the mechanization of modern life. Each cog and each piece had a purpose, which meant viewing the layout of such constructed machinery would give you insight on just what made it tick. A clock had wheels and gears, a train had a warm bellow full of burning coal – the varying factors didn’t matter. The point was, in that sea of archaic design and fashion, the Fae was far more appreciative of the 'advancing times'. Now though, had she been bothered to listen to whatever unearthly hum the control panels of the neighboring flight deck made, there would be no real pause to her actions. She wouldn’t stop to admire the sheer elegance of metal on metal nor quietly commend the creator for their use of aesthetics in the product; there was little beauty left in the world of tomorrow.
Yet there she was, with platinum blonde hair framing pristine features; Chance rarely met a man willing to pass up her company. Strange to think of all the heinous acts she had committed time and time again when she was slowly riding the tapered waist of her service boy. The dark of space was always noticeable when she traveled, a stretch of spilled ink acting as the backdrop for her journey through the galaxy, which engaged her sense of curiosity enough to hide the boredom from otherwise ravishing features. It meant going through the motions one throaty moan at a time until the boy inevitably blew his load and wilted beneath her like a plucked flower in the heat of a summer afternoon. Amid fluids and juices and the heavy scent of his biology, the woman could easy have grown impatient with her servant and done to him what she often did with unwanted excess; disposed of it. She didn’t though, content to glance down at the nude body beneath her and study where they were connected, as if there was more to the matter than what could be seen presently.
Everyone had a purpose, and this lad with his chiseled features and lack of common sense, he did what was required to remain an asset to his employer. Maybe that was why she could easily lift away from him and the mess they made to stalk out of the room, nude and alone, but obviously in a decent enough mood that her staff needn’t fear becoming one long buffet line. That was her gift to them on this day – the one act of benevolence a monster could provide her willing servants. “How close are we?”
The smooth metal walls of the corridor she followed seemed to fade to lighten, and a man’s face appeared etched upon a digital projection. The entire ship was able to show video on available surfaces, so even when she was in the shower of her ornate suite, Chance was kept current on the progress and events of their trip. The figure had a gaunt look to his face and neck, stubble thick across his chin while dark, beady eyes seemed locked on her naked, dripping midsection. “Close enough that I suggest you clean up and prepare yourself for your arrival. Do you need a seamstress to be sent for fitting?” The image raised a set of nimble digits to scratch at the gruff on his face, having looked away to check a nearby chart written in Arcadian jumble.
“Implying he wouldn’t see me as I am.” Chance remarked offhandedly as lines of old spunk trickled down her dancer legs. “I’m sure I have no need for fitting. It’s all handmade and tailored to my body anyway.” Fingers trailed low to wipe away the drooling aftermath of her afternoon delight. “Have Laurie ready herself and we’ll be mobile by the time we are expected. I’m sure our client is quite excited by my visit…” There was no more to offer as the man on the connection nodded and ended the transmission.
Needing no further pressing from her Fae adviser, Chance could be secured in knowing Caspian would deal with the snags should they come up, which gave her ample time to head off to her end of the ship to shower and prepare. Soon, there would be business matters at hand, and how could she deny wanting to look her best for the occasion? Of course, the rest of the Fae aboard were kept out of the loop on the intimate details of her agreement with her future client, if only to save face. When the truth was too much to share, there was a sense of mischief to the buxom creature, and she would surly give herself away with a creeping smile playing her portrait.
There were eyes all over the ship, after all.
[/sub]
----
Laurie Arden tapped on the translucent screen settled in her lap, typing her report at a speed unheard of in terms of human reflexes, even with all the genetic modifications those filthy pests were pumped full of in recent times. Seated to her side, the mistress of the entourage sat idly with slender legs crossed neatly at the thigh. Aside from the two women, Caspian and two of his colleagues were settled across the cabin with intricate visors shielding their beaming hues. No one had anything to say during the short journey, an in such, Chance had made herself comfortable by propping her cheek in her palm and leaning towards the nearest window so she could watch the atmosphere break enough to reveal Cricket's massive ship. A marvel by the days standards, she couldn’t help admiring the sleek aircraft as they made a speedy approach.
“How many lives went into the construction of that monstrosity?” Laurie mused between consistent note takings.
“Enough. Are you jealous?” Caspian replied from his seat, though his attention seemed to have turned to the window as well. “I know I am.”
“Why would I be jealous? I’m far too old to appreciate toys.” As if the switch had been flipped off, the bookish Fae ceased her work and placed each palm flat against the sides of her tablet, then brought them inwards to compact the portable computer before tucking it away in her bag. “What would you even do with that much space? You lived in a loft for damn near two hundred years, Caspian.” Adjusting the curls of her fine silver hair, Laurie joined the other gazes set towards their destination.
“He would invite his lovers over to teach them a few tricks. That’s what old dogs do, isn’t it?” Chance offered the two as the propulsion system of their carrier craft shifted into docking sequence. Smooth enough that lesser beings wouldn’t even notice, the event brought Chance back to present company and away from the cloud of her thoughts; luminous tricolored orbs casting their gaze to the doors as if signaling her companions to follow suit. “I’m sure he’ll slobber all over the inside as well.”
The transition was a simple one as the collective of five moved with the two unnamed Fae in the front, Chance nestled in the middle, and Caspian and Laurie directly behind her modelesque person. Outsiders would see them as they wished to be seen, defined elegance in strange attire of their respective reaches of the universe. The two women wore little more than corset like tops and tight leggings, though several layers of paper thin fabric created the illusion of more, exposing the curves and swells of their bodies while ensuring they were indeed covered. The men were in suits of a more traditional fashion, slacks and fitted shirts completed by jackets of that same air-light material the women wore. Everyone wore white, from their sharp heeled shoes to the tops of their collars, so the boarding party was a moving blizzard, thrown off only by their vibrant hair colors and Chance’s unmasked eyes, which glowed like beacons in the dimly lit corridors of the airlock.
Greeted by the Hounds Cricket had sent, none of them gave greeting to the beasts, but instead followed in their trained formation until they were presented with the meeting place their host intended to gather them in. This was Chance giving the Master his opportunity to welcome them on his terms, even if it left her at a disadvantage as far greetings went. Even so, they had made a flashy enough entrance to garner respect, and the gifts the two lesser Fae at the front carried would certainly be appreciated. If Chance had learned anything in her many years, it was how the greedy appreciated anything you gave them, but they would value unique items over ones others could acquire as well.
It wasn't until a booming voice cut through the silence that Chance seemed to reveal her softer side, lips curls into a quaint smirk at the message. "You have come as I expected. You're snow in the desert!" A few loose foot steps echoed through the vast hall as a rather tall and bulky gentleman approached the five Fae. He seemed as flawless as they did with the endless enhancements he was fitted with, built like a bull while still possessing the looks of a modern Grecian God. "I am Rah' Kahatan Nezimir, but you know me as Cricket. I am pleased to finally meet you, Chance Arden." His shifting steps came to a halt when he was towering over her group, though he did nothing to seem imposing; it really was just his height that seemed off. One massive hand seemed to snake past her guards to take hers and with it, Chance found herself being led from the pack without putting up a fight.
"You are eager to have me to yourself." The creature breathed softly, her piercing hues tracing his figure as one might evaluate a fine piece of art. Cricket was a head and a half taller than she was, with hands warm and engulfing and they held hers. Already she knew she liked him, though it was easy for those feelings to change given time. "Though we have so much to discuss, you cannot pull me away until you have received your gifts. Very special and very rare..." Only then did she ease away from his hold to turn and take one of the two ornate boxes the scholarly servants, and present it to their current host.
"Your beauty and graciousness honor me." Without delay, the box was opened and within it's precious jewel inlay, something glowed. The light was far from normal, as bright as sunlight and as pure, yet nowhere near as blinding. A foreign light from depths of a trans-dimensional universe undiscovered by man - yet somehow possessed by this youthful Fae. Cricket's face was one of a man who had seen things beyond his comprehension, so his reply came very slowly in the form of a question. "Is this..."
"Oh yes, my precious Cricket. That is exactly what it is." With that, she closed the box and handed it once more back to the waiting servant. "I have come offering two to you as a sign of good faith. Now we may go and speak alone. I trust you." Returning to the side of the still in shock giant, she gave him a few seconds to recollect before the two moved in unison towards the upper stairs. An office was their destination and many plans were to be discussed, though in the back of Chance's mind, she knew there was no real discussion.
Her demands would be met as they always were.[/sub]
"You know," She began as the two were closed off by automatic doors shutting at the rear, "Cricket is a strange name for a man. I haven't met a Cricket in all my years. What made you take that persona?"
"I'm a provider of white noise, Chance Arden." The hulking man remarked offhandedly just as his grasp was finally relinquished from the Fae's pale digits. "Static in the background of the cosmos. I'm the crickets chirping, the distant howls of the wind. I exist in the background for those like you. Those willing to take extraordinary risks to reap certain rewards."
Both seemed to appreciate the silence that followed his statements because there was no remark from either for some time. It wasn't until Chance finally drifted further into the secluded quarters that she made her voice known, far softer than expected with the space she had made between them. Still, she had no doubt her company would hear every word. "Every risk has a reward. Of course, the reward must outweigh the risk." Her slender figure eased itself onto the seat of a high backed lounger, legs shifting to fold at her knee. "My only hope is that I am not let down by your claims. This discovery of yours is something well worth my investments if it proves to exist. Something this valuable almost sounds too good to be true..." Electric blue hues lazily rose to meet Cricket where he lingered, leaned into the desk on the far side of his office. "What if your findings are nothing more than cosmic bullshit? What do you have to offer me then?"
The cyborg took no time dwelling on the context of the message, instead jumping right into his reply with a barking laugh. "Is that a threat?" There was no humor to the sound, merely the empty shell that quivered towards inevitable finale. Amber hues soaked up the light Chance radiated, fixating on the luminous glow her body provided their meeting place. The Fae had him figured out, with his endless prosthetic modifications and massive physique - she knew he craved a power someone of his birth could never truly have. While he may have the might of technological marvels at his advantage, it was no match for someone who existed between realms. Would he survive an endless abyss? Could he stand against the monstrosities that existed outside this plane? There was no need to be rough with him, as he too could see what she was. Cricket knew he was outmatched and Chance could smell the concern seeping from what few pores he still possessed.
"I have no need to threaten you. I am merely curious what you have for me should your plan fail."
"You want more than the Key?" One thick eyebrow raised in question. "What more could I possibly offer you?"
It didn't take long for the buxom blonde to once more stand and close the gap between them, her steps echoing against the floors like the soft ticks of clock hands. "A contract. You should know by now I never make a deal without one." Fingers raised to run down her companion's bicep, with a warmth spreading to cut through the layers of clothing he wore; Cricket had nothing on that would protect him. There was no running from destiny, especially when you invited it in and offered it a drink. "You and I need to make a contract. I will not be satisfied until it is sealed." The vixen's body sunk against the larger male's, giving him no peace or space or time or anything else that could divert attention from what she wanted. The heat radiated off Chance like a furnace, venting from every inch of her strangely wrapped physique like it was choking out any ill intent she may have possessed. She was a ray of sun on the dark side of the moon; so bright and beautiful and dangerous that Cricket wasn't allowed to back away because the pull of this power was it's own gravity. "Do you understand?" Hooded vision didn't waver from the male, instead intensifying as if her hypnotic irises were going to open and engulf him entirely.
There were too many promises made by eyes like hers. Some were hopeful, but most remained mysteries few had the testicular fortitude to solve. She had eaten far wealthier, far stronger and far more cunning men. What did Cricket really have for her that those daring few didn't? "If you are so sure of your information, then you will have no reason to avoid my contract. Of course, if you happen to fail and there is no Key, then I will be well fed for my services. I am always willing to bargain for souls."
"I am sure." Rough words from a visibly doubtful man. "I will make a contract with you, Chance Arden."
"Oh, you have me quite taken with you already, Cricket. I love a man who puts his soul where his mouth is." With that, she was on him, hands holding him pinned to the desk itself, which rocked violently under the shoved weight it now carried. Lips like magnets, they found their mark, hungrily touching the male's as though they had been waiting forever for such a delicious treat. From a viewers standpoint, the contract being sealed wasn't all too much more than an erotic movie where Cricket was given the opportunity to use Chance as his personal cock sock, but that was the only real way the Fae could ensure she would get her fair share from this "risky" endeavor. Chance didn't play to lose, so what she gave would always be worth it in the end.
[/sub]
Two scraggly, emaciated figures sat with their feet dangling absently from where the walkway ended. A duo was left unchecked over a devastating drop, frighteningly close to a crater of bubbling lava, yet seemingly unfazed. It was their only scenery outside a shanty town skirting the volcanic ledge, with distant brightness of a molten death, easily mistaken for the mid-afternoon sun, but oh so much closer. So close, in fact, it had successfully sizzled away both of the men's body hair. One absently scratched his scarred and blistered features while the other picked at his toes on a single bare foot, his other leg crunched into an awkward bend, as though trying to keep away from the pit. Years prior, his once trusted work boot had been warped into some sort of hideous and melted torture device, now fused along his exposed calf almost seamlessly from his time in this hell. What the foot beneath may have looked like was best left to the imagination, but by the gnarly mass of old leather, it certainly wouldn't have shown much likeness to what had once been a familiar appendage. The other younger man was nowhere near as uncomfortable to look at, though he seemed overwhelmed by the conditions, and constantly brought up an unfair ruling with remarks on what could have gone better in his favor.
His recently blasted features still bore signs of hope on occasion; that was a feeling that would fade away with time.
This was the a-typical slice of life on Beauccarea, well known prison camp and home to countless like these two, and the tens of miles dug into the crust of the planet ensured the convicts would continue to suffer day in and day out until their miserable lives were extinguished, be it by heat or by one of the other prisoners. It was safe to assume the operation was deemed successful due to the fear it struck in neighboring colonies across the galaxy, though it was rarely brought up outside of the penal planet. Most regarded it's existence as little more than population control, with no regard for the criminals it housed, or the severity of their crimes. They all died the same way in the end.
Such a fate would soon fall the younger prisoner as he rose to stretch, and wobbled ever so slightly when doing so. Just like that, he was plummeting towards the fury of the magma pool, soon to be cast from the mind of his fellow prisoners as he hit the inferno surface with a unceremonious sizzle.
"Giss it don' matter niws." Verified a shriveled tongue barely able to scrape out the words.
[/sub]
o - o - o
All things considered, Beauccarea was a gorgeous planet. The local flora and fauna were intact and knew to keep their space when humanoids barreled through, and it retained a pleasant climate even through its winters. Had the council decided to erect a string of resorts along the vast coastline, they would be shamelessly rich; but they preferred what current plans they had set in motion. Their need for money was nonexistent. Their collective members had pull on countless planets, and knew no obstacle of financial greatness they couldn't pass with a few short words. Power did not lie in bed with money, but in the secrets of their universe. Secrets they needed to possess. Secrets hopefully shared by one individual in particular.
For a price.
Chance Arden didn't look like she belonged, dressed moderately (considering her usual attire), but still standing out like a sore thumb among the business types. Her entourage was patiently waiting behind closed doors, but it was likely they could hear every word seeping from the lips of the foreign figureheads.
"Your ambition is impressive, Ms. Arden, as are your qualifications." A well-versed, and equally well-preened man said as a catalog of paperwork was shuffled through.
Something close to a smile remained firmly on her features, though it was as hollow as their politeness. The message was grating, if anything, and she failed to understand why the false niceties were required. This wasn't an interview, and she wasn't a subservient to be praised by idle chatter. Still, her tongue was held for the sake of 'business', as if waiting for the right slip up of her host to unleash a fury unknown - one she had been suffering with for millennium prior to this stuffy meeting. The speaker's colleagues were quick to agree, as if they needed to indicate their position in the political totem pole. Fae had no need for yes men, and the idea itself had yet to break through her ignorance, though she seemed less put off by their acknowledgement of her presence.
Chance was a power among their kind they couldn't begin to wrap their minds around; a singular anomaly that even her own race was unsure of.
"Please, no need for flattery."
The council's representative cleared his throat as the pile of her personal information was set aside on the circular table between them, freed from its bondage for the time being. "We've asked you come and speak with us in person so we would be able to assess your capabilities. The offer you made us was a sizable one, so there needs to be some insurance for our investors. If we are able to document a few of your gifts, we will have no issue passing you along to the head of our organization. I'm sure you understand the policy behind this request." With no paperwork to shuffle, his hands seems empty and limp, held together on the table top in a robotic manner. How awkward, Chance couldn't help thinking as she continued to smile. Where would he be without those hands?
"I'm not sure I follow this logic." The Fae admitted after a moment, her legs shifting beneath the hem of her skirt. "You have countless reputable sources attesting to my abilities, as well as infinite rumors and whispers from less reputable ones. Why do you want to see my abilities in person? If anything, they should frighten you - and you don't seem the type to go out of your way to suffer. Your position alone indicates you worked your entire life to get where you are, yet I'm to believe you and your friends would throw it all away for a sneak peek?" The blonde straightened, rolling her head just a tad as she added, "I'm not a peep show."
It was true that there was hesitation through the room, but it seemed muted, which meant they felt safe here. Something about this building, or this compound as a whole, had their strange group firmly dedicated to procedure. "Ms. Arden, there is no leeway on this. If we have not verified your powers, we have legal standing to make a deal. We cannot bypass the law on this matter, or any other."
"You're a bunch of fucking pussies." Hissed the Fae, her expression unchanging as the shadows of the room seemed to swell. "I traveled twenty two days to get here, and I'm told I need to prove myself in order to even set up a meeting with anyone of importance?" Her irritation was exaggerated by the pulsing of the growing darkness, it's rich cloak of sweeping cold touching everyone and everything in the room. "And the reasoning is the legality of the matter? HA!" Temperature was dropping as quickly as the inflection change in her vocals. "I will give you ten seconds to tell me what is really going on."
So the clock started ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Ms. Arden, if you're going to be uncooperative, we have no choice in the matter."
"Are you threatening me? I've fucked men who were bleeding to death that scared me more than your proper bullshit protocol. 'We have no choice in the matter.'" Echoing his words in a sing song voice, the elder Fae sneered angrily and spit. "Fuck you. Fuck your entire organization." Legs planted firmly on the carpeted floor as she moved to rise, her anger uncharacteristically visible with the swarming of her malignant aura.
Yet, when she tried to stand, her body shivered and slumped back in the chair. Very rarely did the creature have much to be surprised about, but this was beyond simple surprise. A startled gasp vacated the buxom beast as her figure sank into her seat and she was left immobilized. "H-how?"
"You don't need our secrets, Ms. Arden." A new voice spoke from behind her, small and fragile like the chime of a bell. "But we need yours. Whether you cooperate or not is entirely up to you."
"Fuck you!" She spat, about ready to howl at the top of her lungs, as though it would assist in unleashing her pent up hostility - but even that was ceased. At once she was silenced, and a strange fatigue seemed to overwhelm her senses until she was forced into a deep sleep. [/sub]
The room was cold. Chance may not have noticed if it weren't for the wisps of visible air that escaped her lips as she awoke. Groggy for the first time in Goddess only knew, the Fae made weak attempts to tilt her head. That was the best she could do, given her current situation. Nothing seemed to function, no limb to move, no magic to mend. Whatever strange sorcery or diabolic science kept her prone wasn't ceasing just because she wished it to. Like a pinned butterfly beneath display glass, her brilliant blue hues took in the brightness of the halogens above, letting their incessant energy feed into her oculars until a twinge of pain accompanied the activity. Only then would the Fae break her gaze, ashamed and uncertain, and maybe just a tad frightened.
Hours would pass, maybe days, before an automatic door slid nearly silently open, and with it the companionship of voices. "Do they sleep?"
"You would have to ask, Dr. Ramsey. As far as I know, their entire lives are a dream. We are dream matter to them, and what existence they experience outside the dream they see in this dimension is one humanity is incapable of experiencing."
"Most fascinating creatures... But Dr. Reiner" There came a pause, "She looks human to me. Isn't this a violation of some sort of ethical code? Humanoids with intelligence equivalent or greater to our own-"
"Luckily for us, no one really planned for this sort of extraterrestrial life when such codes were thought up. Looks can be deceiving..." Away from Chance's peripherals, a dial clicked musically amongst a maze of controls, with 'Dr. Reiner' as it's maestro. Suddenly, a surge of electricity coursed through Chance, so strong and overwhelming that her body arched roughly against whatever unseen power restrained her. Mentally, this created a blind spot in her psyche, decimating the illusion of her Glamour within a split second, leaving her an awkwardly bent mess on the table with grotesque wings crammed beneath her uncomfortably. Her features contorted into a frightening mask or pain and madness, yet not a sound escaped as the currents raced through her body from where it touched the table. "Note how she looks when 150,000 volts of electricity are traveling through her."
The other individual gagged audibly before replying with an appalled, "That's awful! Please, stop!"
"If you insist." The dial was shifted down once more, and Chance collapsed onto herself with soft crunches, apparently unable to gather the stamina to situate her limbs in less painful ways. She stayed immobile, unshed tears decorating her lashes as the two continued their discussion, though they moved beyond where she could hear for the rest of it. Once more there was silence, and the blonde deviant was left alone under unforgiving halogen lights.
[/sub]
o - o - o
They plan to kill you.
How she had managed to drift into the dreaming, she couldn't say, but she accepted the darkness like a second skin, and curled up in it's subtle warmth like a small wounded animal. "I know."
I will not let them kill you.
"But can you stop them? I can't move. I can't communicate with my councilors, or even the Matriarch. I am here with no contacts, and this place is unknown to me. Did they move me, or am I on the same shit hole planet I started on?"
Before her, the darkness accumulated in a way that made her uncomfortable, even after the countless years she had been in her pact with Loe. manifesting into a familiar male figure, the obsidian beast settled next to her, large enough to cradle her battered ego like a lover would. So gentle, yet so dangerous, the parasite gave no reply as they sat helpless in their solitude. "I don't know what to do..." She whispered into his chest, shivering even as the energy shared between them burned like a lit candle wick. "Is this the payment for our sins? Do we die here, in the uneventful medical labs of filthy human offlanders?"
No. The time will come. You will live. This is nothing compared to what the future will bring.
Chance tried to laugh, but it came out as little more than a ragged sob. "Let me die then!"
No.
[/sub]
o - o - o
Chance awoke once again to a pain of hands running along her skin, make inspections with careful fingertips. Nude as a babe, the Fae had been settled into a neat fashion, with her legs and arms laid straight in a downward fashion.Despite the abuse of her captors, Chance seemed no less radiant than an earth bound deity, with a glistening to her presence like a filter from a magazine. "S-stop..." The female begged under her breathe, though she had little thought of it as the touching continued, gentle but all the more invasive. Feeling like a piece of meat, her body shivered in protest, with the limbs nearly moving in their resting places. It was at least enough to stop the roaming hands, alerting the man attached to them that she was awake.
"Oh! No, no. Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." A younger set of features moved closer and glance down, half hidden behind a surgical mask, as though he feared he might contaminate her, or vice versa. Her face shifted into a half sneer at his comment, because for what his words were worth, she could easily enough swear she didn't deserve such detainment. Lies. He seemed rather taken by having her attention though, because he continued hurriedly, and with a hint of glee in his voice. "I'm Dr. Ramsey, a local Astrobiologist, and I've been encouraged to study you as much as I can. Of course, I don't mean to make you uneasy! I've merely done an overview and tried to record your vitals... Which you occasionally have. Whatever you are made of is absolutely extraordinary! I cannot compare my findings to anything previously studied. You're too unique. When I heard you weren't a singularity, I was shocked. Your friends are evidence of your race though!" The doctor sighed softly against the cotton of his mask.
"What a time to be alive! Writing a dissertation on this discovery would easily put me up for the Nobel Peace Prize back home, but to release these findings throughout the universe? Forget about it! Dr. Reiner warned me of the dangers being along with you, but with the cold iron atmospheric gases shuttled in, you'd be hard pressed to even attempt moving. it's in the air, of course."
"Oh, it that all?" Chance managed weakly, her dazzling hues shifting up and down in lazy succession to his words.
"Talking now!? Astounding. Can I ask you questions?"
"Let me go..."
"Oh, but I can't. I wish I could. I hate to see you like this, but it's not my choice, and the higher ups would have my ass if-"
"Please. Let me go."
Briefly, a look of genuine concern crossed Dr. Ramsey's face, a furrowed brow peeking out just before his head shook. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you. I would give anything to help you, if only to see you for what you are rumored to be. Such a fierce creature caged... It's unnatural. It's inhumane... but it's science, and there isn't a way to stop progress. All I can do is make sure you're cared for while they study you."
"They're going to kill me."
"No! No, no. Never. I swear, no one will harm you again. Not Dr. Reiner, or the corporation funding ours studies, or anyone else. Just be patient and we will find what we're looking for in you."
"Find what?"
Dr. Ramsey laughed as if she was joking when she asked, and through his chuckle, said plainly, "The abyssal entity. The parasite."[/sub]
03:49 am
August 9th, 1945
Nagasaki, Island of Kyushu, Japan, Earth (Terran Home world)
Tadao Yamoto had never seen death.
At his age, he couldn't really boast seeing much more than the inside of his family's home, and maybe some of the neighboring roads of the city, though he wouldn't know how to explain such things. He spoke in noises like an animal might. Quiet or loud, he had sounds to express his demands and needs, and depending on the situation, the level of urgency said demands and needs might require. This evening, he had needed the comfort of his mother's arms, to feel flesh against him while the night progressed in a slow, quiet fashion. It took little more than her embrace to quiet the infant's whines, though his mother Shinju clicked her tongue softly while she rocked her child. The two sat together because of his distress, and they didn't move when the shrill demanding sirens wailed across their neighborhood.
A white light pierced the middle of their city in blinding death, and it expanded outward like their entire existence was being vacuumed up by whatever vengeful power hated them to this extent. Shinju and Tadao kept still as their neighborhood was wiped off the map. Expunged. The two remained still as stones as the distance became nothing more than a sea of glass and twisted metal, with great fires spreading around the edges where houses just like their own ceased to be. The streams and ponds and rivers all steamed to boiling shades of their former selves. Human figures danced like insects, alight with the same fires ravaging their homes. Neighbors resembled archaic silhouettes of what had been promised to humanity if they sinned against their white christian Gods.
Mother and child watched the world they knew die.
And the abyssal entity inside Shinju would protect both as she hummed low to keep Tadao calm. The demon's monstrous and phantasmal form seemed nothing more than a light trick to anyone unfit to realize it clinging to the pair, though no one had any reason to look their way. This was a population busy screaming for their Emperor to save them. Humanity seemed unable to learn how to save themselves; Loe never grew tired of watching them suffer if only to pass the time. The definition of insanity, free to parade through the lives of poor Earth bound wretches until the damned planet became uninhabitable, and inevitably died as well.
All things would die. Even death would die given time.
[/sub]
---
Loe stirred. Beneath layers of shroud, of darkness and agony and bleak, rough reality, the parasite found itself awake. A horrible feeling of foreboding rested on it's consciousness, which directed its attention to its host, who lay prone on a slab of medical grade steel. Flesh did not restrain the abyss as it surfaced through every available orifice and pore, seeping into the sterile environment like a plague bearing miasma. It stifled the chatter, bringing upon a hopeless claustrophobia that gripped throats and wrestled limbs. It stripped meat from bones while owners of said meat were given a front row seat to their own disintegration. Lab coats soon became branding for cattle as the fog of static death tore through the facility's medical wing, devouring entire units of scientists without pause.
By the time Loe's shape had reassembled to that of featureless giant, the creature was again looming over Chance Arden. A sleeping siren, all curves and supple skin. A terrible monster similar to Loe, but packaged differently. Her disguise was a good one, wasn't it? Too good. Loe took the Fae up in it's arms and proceeded to seek out the others of her boarding party, though the abyssal creature could feel they were farther away than just a trip down these long halls of the facility. The least Loe could do was put space between his fallen vessel and her captor's, though so many were now just stains of human pulp on the stark white backdrop.
<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/rj01nHS.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]<o1 Gods and Monsters>
She was his favorite.
The cold didn’t go away. From the moment Kade had found her squinted hues looking over snow draped expanses of freedom, she had been cold. Teeth chattering, hair on her arms and legs prickled to a point, with the added comfort of knowing this feeling wouldn’t let up, regardless the distance she made between herself and her prior captivity. Never in her life had she been so miserable as the girl was then in those hours, forced to trudge and trek through the endless white bullshit the forest offered without a soul in sight. It didn’t surprise the blonde as fatigue began taking over, so with each forced step forward, she was promising herself an end would eventually be found. No matter how long it took her to get there, Kade would find home again. She would be with him again…
But the body is a fickle thing at times. It seemed frighteningly simple how quick her knees were to buckle out of nowhere, leaving the youth to fall face forward into the hardened snow with little more than a stifled thump. Cheeks burning due to the frigid waste, her lids began closing involuntarily, all while her raspy voice pushed its way from unwilling lungs. “G-get up.” The phrase would be repeated several times, though less and less audible until she lost consciousness entirely, her lightly covered figure face planted in the middle of the forest. That was when she fell prey to whatever strange happenings this place happened to hold for her, which meant this was the moment Kade had truly let herself down. It wasn’t years ago when she had been strapped for cash and had made a few dangerous bargains, nor was it the past year when she refused to say goodbye to her dying mother. No, this was the one pivotal moment she would forever regret, because this was the moment Kade had thrown herself to the wolves, all because she couldn’t keep fucking walking.
Time passed normally in some regard, while simultaneously seeming to stop entirely for Kade. She wasn’t here or there, instead being shuttled to wherever while her mind happily dreamed away the passing hours. Just like the rest of the hunted, Kade Samson was brought to the small church on the outskirts of town without any clue as to where they truly were. Sure, she would tell it was a church from the moment her eyes opened, but the girl didn’t know anything else about the location, other than how fucking cold it happened to be. A torturous situation to find herself in, Kade slowly rose from a sprawled laying position to something of a drooping upright, with her hands shakily moving to graze over her general apparel. Same jeans and light hoodie with her usual fashion boots in tow, the youth seemed content that it all seemed intact. After all, whoever had brought her inside could easily have stolen her clothing as well. Small miracles.
Of course, just as the groggy girl had come to terms with her current environment, so too did the battered old hag near the front of the rag tag congregation make a bold statement. Maybe there had been an unmistakable eeriness to the comment, but Kade didn’t have the patience or the interest to deal with that sort of farfetched bullshit currently. “…And how would you know? You fucking from here?” Practically shouting the words as the older figure retreated deeper into the church, Kade took that as a true sign of soap box doomsday talk, which lightened her overall bitter mood. Rising to her usual above average height, she was all sorts of ragged looking in the dirty clothing she had been wearing for weeks? Months maybe? Time underground hadn’t done the nomad any good, deteriorating her usually modelesque appearance to one slightly more healthy than those images they showed you of holocaust victims.
Casting sunken oculars off through the crowd, there had to be someone worth speaking with on what was going on. Her usual quiet demeanor was kicking back in at this point, ceasing the words before they came as if she knew deep down it wasn’t a matter of asking. Eventually she’d be forced to find out. Steps were actual shuffles as the slender creature made a break for the door, slowly progressing from the pews towards the huge, open area of pathway covered in ancient carpeting. The whole establishment seemed deserted by the way the dust had settled, though it hadn’t gone through much wear and tear otherwise. As if the usual parishioners just ceased showing up, there wasn’t any moving boxes or drapery to cover unused furniture – just a bunch of scraggly survivors Kade knew nothing about, all grouped in an abandoned church to escape the cold.
The lack of heat in the building certainly didn’t get mistaken for warmth. It just wasn’t frigid and Kade could at least move her fingers while they remained firmly tucked in her hoodie pockets. Maybe she had stumbled upon some sort of strange cult and this was their way of roping in members? Maybe these were her captors from before and these people were also victims? Maybe she had been abducted by aliens? A frown found itself over her neat, angular features as it all became apparent that she was being stupid. After all, more than likely there was a simple answer to all of this and all she really needed to do was ask. Having made it to the door of the church, she tried to pry the massive entranceway open, but seemed unable to do so for the time being. Blaming her overall fatigue, the girl didn’t bother to pretend she was comfortable standing, instead pressing her back to the door frame so she could slide down it easily to the ground. It almost felt like she was guarding their freedom, or stealing it, depending on what the deal was.
<font color="1979e6]“Does this place have heat?”[/font] Kade eventually asked to no one in particular while her slim figure shivered… And to think, she had once been his favorite. <font color="1979e6]“Anyone bother to check?”[/font]
“I don’t know what I saw.” Kade blinked dark lashes at the councilor, a tinge of pain behind her cobalt hues. The blond was at a crossroads, unsure of what was safe to share and what simply required silence in the wake of recent events. Even now, the evaluation was in full swing, the steady gaze of the ‘trusted guardian’ present weighing heavily on her psyche. Biting her bottom lip, she felt her gaze lower towards clenched hands in her lap; their knuckles white from constant wringing. “It wasn’t anything. I know that now. I wish you’d believe me when I tell you that.” But every word she whispered was hopeless in the sea of otherwise silent white room, like she had fallen down the rabbit hole towards a darker, more real incarnation of Wonderland. A personal Hell where the unwanted roamed in medicated droves, intricately weaving their way toward self afflicted madness.
“I believe you saw something.” A smile passed over the Doctor’s lips, tight and inviting like the open arms of a loved one. “But I can’t help until I know the details.” In his lap rest the open folder that told nothing but lies, her case file with letter block print declaring her mentally unstable. She couldn’t help glancing it over every time she could, private glimpses into what was considered legally binding proof she belonged in this asylum vice elsewhere. No home to go to, no family to argue on her behalf; Kade was utterly alone in the struggle to keep her head above water. Small blurbs had been added to the sides of the spread sheets within the manila confines, hand written by examining psychiatrists and ‘experts’ in the mental health field. Little stabs at whatever remained of the woman’s damaged pride.
‘Even after months of therapy, the patient refuses to speak with the staff. Every day she seems to distance herself further from reality. Patient may prove to be harmful to herself and others if left untreated.’
“Doctor Arden, please believe me, I’m not crazy! I didn’t see whatever I said I saw, and I don’t remember any of the details. I must’ve had an episode of some kind. Please, please believe me.” A stammer came in hiccup fashion as Kade tried to articulate her pleas. Nothing had changed in these months, and as they drilled her over and over to recall the more intimate details of her ‘incident’, little had been discovered besides what had been initially documented. Around and around the questioning went, and the devoted scientific minds of the center were determined to unravel whatever mystery Kade continued to keep to herself – but as honest as she was then, the girl had stuck to her story. She didn’t remember what had happened and she couldn’t explain what had caused whatever private nightmare she was responsible for. The whole incident was a missing film reel and Kade didn’t have the courage to delve deeper to uncover whatever strange scenes had occurred.
“Well, maybe tomorrow we’ll make some progress.” Dr. Arden checked his watch before rising from his seat with paperwork in hand. A sigh escaped the taller individual before he turned from his patient and made for the door, a towering shadow falling along the tile floor Kade took to following behind. At first, she had felt shame at the end of their meetings, having never been able to provide for the Doctor what he really wanted to hear - but after so many sessions in monotonous fashion, the girl simply couldn’t bother caring. Instead she was silent and thoughtful, mulling over whatever lingering doubts occupied that enigma of a mind everyone seemed so curious over.
The door opened with a soft click and the doctor paused to let Kade pass through the archway before exiting with. Kade heard the lock behind her as she stepped away, off towards the pale tones of the activity room where most of the other patients spent their time. It was there the pair parted ways, the doctor off to gossip with the other faculty members present while Kade found a quiet place in the back. Far from the tiny television that played the basic networks, and farther yet from the board games and other childish activities, Kade came to rest in a beat up recliner near the massive windows.
It was easy to ignore the bars over the glass at this point, because this quiet retreat from questioning proved relaxing even with the inevitable lack of escape. Removing a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket before she settled in, Kade fumbled for a lighter and stared vacantly towards the greenery and well kept lawn of the grounds, imagining the warmth of sunlight against her skin. Sometimes the asylum was reminiscent to rehab, where the staff would be friendly or supportive one minute while still trying to uphold the rules. Other times, it was easier to get away with the simple things, like smoking inside. According to one orderly, Kade had cried for hours when she was told she couldn’t smoke, and after the incessant tantruming she provided as incentive, she had been given a free pass. So, Kade smoked and others did as well when she was around, which was as close to comradery as the girl got.
Now though, she remained alone with gray plumes vacating the caved seat she occupied. A slender woman of 23 didn’t bother addressing the other residents, instead gripping the filter of her bogey with one set of digits while the other toyed with her golden locks. These were stress related habits, to ease her tension about this entire charade of a situation. How the fuck did she end up here? If Kade knew, would she be better off than she was then, oblivious and medicated? Azure oculars slowly scanned to the left before she sank entirely into the recliner with a groan. “I’m not crazy.” There was no words, just the mouthed statement to accompany the exasperation her life seemed to breed.
Kade didn’t deserve this place, and if it wasn’t obvious, the institute didn’t deserve to be stuck with Kade.
<o1 Stare long enough into the abyss, and the abyss stares back>
Maybe it had been longer than months at this point. Long enough to frighten Kismet, regardless when the first inkling of doubt sprouted in an otherwise devoted heart. Time took care of those feelings, erased what had been and filled the new opening with what was; a painful situation. Spiteful glances were exchanged towards Allen, the man she had once thought of as her soul mate, because he had conjured up this miracle cure for their ailments. A retreat for the two individuals, aimed at rekindling a flame long dead between them – A truly selfless act on her husband’s part. Still, selfish as recent times had often found her, Kismet felt cornered. The psychiatrist was probably the source of her inner rebellion, being he had often sounded biased in their marital problems. Never once had he asked her how she felt, or what she had hoped to achieve, without Allen present.
So never once had Kismet been forthright when it came to her expectations. In her mind, things had been over for some time.
Eight Days Earlier
“I know he knows.” Sprawled across foreign sheets, eyes lidded with remnants of lust and fatigue, Kismet Rodion nibbled her bottom lip. The accomplice to her side was an escape of sorts from her usually stressful life, the current fling to hide from society, as well as Allen. He was younger than her by a handful of years, still impressionable when it came to sordid acts and often questioned her when it came to her husband. Now the two lay entwined in the covers with guilt looming overhead like a weighted pendulum. Each moment they spent in silence dragged the feelings lower, deeper into their evening until finally the blond managed to add with a half hearted smile, “But things between him and I don’t matter.”
“Did they ever?” Asked the boy, his dark eyes meeting hers for a time before he looked away to the mirrored ceiling. Their two figures gazed down at the couple in the bed, hollow and haunting in their assessments of the scene. Kismet’s nude form shifted to pull away, a blond sheen scattering over her shoulders in a whipping fashion, masking her upper back and the small nail marks that had been made. Her stomach had already sank to her feet as a solo set of digits pushed strands of her bangs from hunter green hues, and while the boy waited for a response, Kismet took to standing in hopes of shirking off such a huge burden. Talking about Allen didn’t make it easier, and what she did… She knew it was wrong. Nothing she had ever done would top this monument of neglect and depravity; no other act would hurt him in such an intimate fashion.
“Look, I’ll text you or something next time I’m free.” Mumbling, Kismet was on autopilot – all she wanted then was to get the hell out of the small loft her current lover resided in. It hurt to see the aftermath; the glow there would have been was instead seen as a filthy spew of imagery, like a train wreck she couldn’t tear her attention from. Allen never made her feel like she had sold her soul, but each new fling did, and the repulsion seemed to catch up with her after each rendezvous. Knowing full well the eyes of the boy were firmly planted in her back like incorporeal knives, she didn’t take her time as she might otherwise have. Instead she dressed and made sure to grab her purse before stepping out of the apartment and back into the dark corridor of the hall. It was written on her face what had happened, was still clinging to her skin like a growth. Almost like she had been violated, Kismet had to get away from the scene of the crime, if only to ease her worrying conscience.
Allen would never know what terrible things she did because Kismet couldn’t understand the extent of her faults. Maybe it was better this way.
It was strange what the years had done to the couple, taking a love she had once found almost impossible to fight and crushing it. Allen worked ungodly hours that interfered with her plans, and she in turn took up hobbies that kept her just as busy. The two had never had children, and sometimes Kismet found herself longing for that opportunity, even if Allen wasn’t involved in the process. It was that sort of distancing that had driven her far away from the mundane contentment the two once shared and with each passing day, she thought up new reasons to throw in the towel. It wasn’t at all his fault things had gone wrong, but she tried to make it seem like he should apologize. Such was her way, too afraid to take control and even more frightened of taking the blame, Kismet Rodion often struggled to make peace with her own actions. So when Allen had found out just how deep a hold she had dug for herself, it didn’t surprise her that he had opted for therapy and counseling vice simply demanding her to leave.
Allen was a better man than Kismet deserved.
She made it home with the usual traffic and entered their apartment building with a nod from the guard. They lived decently off the money Allen brought in, and though he seemed too often fret over their financial issues, it was never a deciding factor in why she wanted to leave. Her heels sounded across the tile until she reached the elevator and before long, she had boarded it alone – make up slightly worn and hair unkempt. Catching her reflection, Kismet studied the image in hopes of understanding why she was so jaded towards her husband. If only she understood where the hate came from, where all this pent up anguish was going… Where her heart vanished to. All she saw was the delicate features of a woman who still wore her youth despite her age. She was thirty now, the big 3-0. It had been so terrible in retrospect, the wait up until the day it came, but had quickly left her life as any other small crisis might. Now she felt no older and didn’t appear to have wasted away just yet; it was almost like she had been cheated out of the nights she spent fretting the inevitable.
Upon reaching the top floor, she exited the elevator and began her travels once more until reaching a familiar address. Her home, Allen’s home – a shared residence. Hesitant at first, Kismet took a deep breath and turned the knob, noting it had been left unlocked in wait of her arrival. It was almost too much for her, sensing he knew she’d be home much later than he cared to stay up, but the blond powered through the waves of self hatred to enter and shut the door. Treading the darkness, her heels were removed before she glided from the hall to the bathroom, which she entered and locked behind her. For 20 or so minutes, Kismet did nothing but stand in the water, not bothering to move or speak or sing or even cry; those times were not required now. She just wanted time to wash away invisible sins, and as if knowing the delicate line he walked, Allen didn’t appear on the other side of the door with questions.
It wasn’t until she exited the warm bathroom in only a towel did she notice her husband’s soft snores from the other room. She followed the sound to their bedroom and briefly glanced over his sleeping form before deciding it safe to join him. How horrible it was to have to meet his eyes when he asked where she had been, because despite how simply the words would have been, she swallowed them away for another time. One day she’d say it was over and when that day came, she wanted to be perfectly sure she meant it. Crawling through the linens to ease next to Allen’s back, Kismet laid quietly in thought for some time before she finally drifted to sleep. The morning would bring another counseling session and more arguments between them, as well as a plan concocted by their therapist. It was all a mystery to the woman at that moment, but one thing was assured, no matter how irrational it may have been: Kismet felt trapped in her marriage.
Present Day
The drive had been a quiet one, met only with the soft thumps of rain against the exterior of the car. She hadn’t tried to ask questions as to why he was taking them where she believed he was, nor did she fight the plans like she had anything better to do. She didn’t. Really, if wanted to try his hand at wooing her, Kismet would play nice and let him. This wasn’t a power struggle after all, just something both of them were too small to fight; divorce had proven a powerful distraction from other, smaller life issues. Manicured fingers tapped along the window, sounding off with the same familiar clicks as her heels, done only to fill the silence. At least until Allen pulled over with the oncoming heavy rains, his voice finally cutting through the tense atmosphere of the front seats.
“If the rain has let up by then, sure.” But how it was said seemed bland, like she couldn’t fake the enthusiasm she half expected him to show. “But I’m curious why we’re here, Allen. It’s not our anniversary.” Kismet chose to play coy, like she didn’t understand his true motives with their little adventure, because it caused less conflict between them. Besides, she couldn’t really blame Allen for giving it his all; he always had and probably always would.
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