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ParasiticRogue

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In another timeline, in another world Chaldea stood alone as a bastion for humanity, a last hope for the world after it was incinerated, and even furthermore after mankind was erased. A valiant master stood nearly alone against incomprehensible forces, with only a few chosen servants at his side. There is a story that tells of its fate, unwinding as we speak. It is a tale of virtue and sacrifice, of darkness and overcoming despair. This Chaldea, this story hews closely to that tale, yet, retains its own nature. This is not the story of a grand order, this is the story of a grand city. This is the story of a city that has withstood time immemorial. Mages might have been getting rarer over the years, but magecraft and magic still ran strong within the city. It was a bastion for their kind, and while non-mages were allowed to live in the city as staff and assistants to the mages, it was clear that mages were considered a slight step above at least. Of course, there was a reason for this. Singularities. These anomalies of time and space flared up into existence some time ago, with Chaldea being formed as a city to first safeguard humans from these distortions. No one knew what they were at first, only that they came, swallowed up parts of the world, and left leaving devastation in their wake. It took brave mages to venture forth into one and come back alive to tell the tale of what they were. Singularities were portals to another period of time, almost always the past. Monsters, demons, and other supernatural forces were rampant, a clear sign that something had been going wrong in these distortions and that unless stopped at their root, they would continue to destroy the world bit by bit. Thankfully, mages had an answer to their problems. The servant system was initially used by magekind as a locus for the Grail War, a now outdated and dangerous war where 7 mages summoned a servant each, and fought one another for the chance to obtain a wish from the holy grail. Chaldeas energy source was the heart of the city, and through its creation, Mages were able to summon servants to their beck and call as aids and assistants. And now, as their allies in fighting back against the singularities. Of course, it was still rather dangerous to attempt to do so alone, so mages often worked with the strongest servants they could. This is the story of one Goh Kasuga. Morning within the city happened as it always did, the buzzing of alarms, the steady brew of coffee for many, and preparing for the long day ahead. As Kasuga was just a spare hire for Chaldea, he was expected to work with other mages as an assistant and accomplice, including in singularities. Of course, he was not alone. His ever ready assistant, Mash Kyrelight, was something of an anomaly herself. A human with the abilities of a servant. This made managing her mana and powers easier. Not much was known about her past even to herself, other than that she was seemingly born with a connection to some sort of servant. All the same, she was a true and powerful ally, shielding the young Kasuga from monster and magic with a shield even taller than she was! Dressed in the simple lab coat, stockings, and black shirt, Mash stood outside the door to Kasugas room with a slightly pouty expression on her lip. Kasuga may not have heard the alarm go off, or perhaps he had shut it off manually. Either way, the young but curvy woman took a deep sigh, and knocked loudly against the door to his room. Senpai! Its time to wake up! Senpai, it was almost always what the lavender haired and eyes woman called Kasuga. It was a beautiful morning in Chaldea, the equivalent of spring, and despite the threat of looming singularities, people held hope for the future.

Goh rolled out of bed, the messy bed head of his unkempt mage, if Olga saw him, he bet she would blow a blood vessel. He was after all, a very low-class bottom-of-the-barrel kinda mage. Surely those with the blood of great mages past were more respected, with their large family lineages dating back hundreds of thousands of eons ago. Rising awake, Goh Kasuga, age 21, rose from his sleep sounding like an absolute zombie. He wasn't a morning person, and the bright sun billowing through the opened doorway was causing his forehead veins to pulse. Rising from his bed, the door would open on its own; it was likely loose and he hadn't bothered locking it. When the door was opened and she could see the figure rising from his bed, he was well... shirtless, and then as the covers pulled back even more, he was tall... like he had long legs and long arms, and they were in decent shape. He played a bit of ball in his college days before that all went to hell in a handbasket. "Oh, Mashu... right..." The blankets parting and he stood up obliviously, as he rose to his feet. "Mmmm coffee..." He muttered like a zombie then walking dick swinging between his legs ever so visibly. To grab up the discarded clothing on the floor, he didn't exactly arrive with much to begin with. Goh stood around 6'2 was decently handsome probably if he wasn't so scowly in the morning, his frame suggesting he was a bit of a basketball player in his past time. Pale skin, red hair that was clearly dyed as one could see the color fading in places a bit. Grabbing up some old boxers off the floor, and then pulling on some pants, scowering the room with his eyes for the pesky socks. Still completely unaware he had so casually just flaunted himself in front of Mashu like that until his long-sleeve black t-shirt and his white jacket were pulled over his shoulders clearly taking a dirvish of time at this point. Grabbing socks then shoes... "Oh should probably slather on some Deo..." He reached into a duffle bag and did that real quick. Before he rose to his feet and walked forward. Goh Kasugawas thus dressed as he was ever going to be for the day, or until he stopped off and got some coffee.. "Morning Mash." He'd just seemingly mutter out of the blue. Blinking several times, as he was feeling his brain starting up finally as his slightly red colored eyes look to the small diminuitive teenager just outside his door. As he thus stood in front of her now. On the night stand by his bed was a strange looking alarm analog coo coo clock, it was unplugged... Da Vinci probably gave it to them because they had run out of alarm clocks when he got here. But the thing was so noisy he had to unplug it half way through the night and thus now here he was waking up probably an hour later then he intended. Goh rested his frame against the door frame looking beyond Mash seeing the bright sunny day ahead of them. Chaldea City was made using some advanced level magic, and the architecture borrowed from various parts of Europe and sort of had a multicultural style to it. Admittedly though he was in the lower side of the city, because he was poor, and not from a big fancy mage family who got mansions and the like on the upper streets. Still it wasn't so bad, there was almost never really a reason to not be able to walk from some place to the other.. and even if they needed too get somewhere there were convenient teleporter pads around the place so someone could just instantly move to a specified location, once they were given the specialized device mages were allowed they were like badges and cellphones but had other magical properties too.</s>

Asuka Langley Soryu wasn't entirely sure what had happened. The last thing she remembered was being in the cockpit of her Evangelion, she was in combat, an Angel that used some kind of weird energy attack against her. Like she'd done many times before she had focused energy into her AT field in order to defend herself, but something unusual had happened. When the energy had struck her field it seemed to react somehow, some kind of strange rip appearing in the air, like a rip in the fabric of reality itself that had grown and swallowed her up in a flash of light. After that Asuka remembered nothing but strange flashes, glimpses of places radically different from Tokyo-3 that lasted only an instant, long enough to know they were there but not long enough to commit any detail to memory. She'd lost track of how long that had gone on for, until finally she had found herself here, and wherever here was it most certainly wasn't Tokyo-3. As Asuka slowly sat up, groaning as she rubbed at her head, she glanced around to find herself sitting in a puddle of LCL on the top of a large rock. Her surroundings were anything but city like, infact it didn't look like there was any signs of civilisation in any direction. She could see jungles, mountains, even what looked like a volcano in the distance, smoke billowing from the top menacingly. The sounds didn't sound like the tranquil birds and small animals she was used to, no, all she could hear were distant roars and thundering bellows that sounded more like they were from some kind of monster than any animal she'd ever encountered. "Wh-what? Where am I...?" Asuka slowly got down from the rock, wincing slightly, the skintight plugsuit offered little protection against the rough, gravely ground she now found herself on. Even worse this place was extremely hot and extremely humid, and the plugsuit simply wasn't meant to handle this kind of temperature, meaning she was hotter than hell. Unfortunately taking the plugsuit off wasn't exactly an option given that it was the only thing she was wearing. "Ok...stay calm girl. Just stay calm. If I stay around here someone's bound to come looking for me and find me...right?" She took a slow, deep breath to try and calm herself, looking around again to try and spot something, anything, that seemed even remotely familiar.

Emerging from a nearby tree line would be something Asuka would at least recognize. It was a man...or something that looked like one at least. Tall and lanky, with quite a lot of hair. He had tanned skin, long and flowing brown hair and was quite muscular and in shape. In his hands he held what appeared to be a rudimentary spear with a stone tip and a large club carved out of wood. It was now very clear she wasn't in Tokyo anymore. As the man emerged from the treeline, Asuka would notice something else as well. He wasn't wearing any clothes. This revealed his form fully to her, including his rather large but unerect cock. It was much larger than anything she had glimpsed so far in her life. He circled around her, curious at her. She could make a break for it if she tried, but he was eyeing her, the way a hunter eyed its prey....He licked his lips hungrily...but more in a lustful manner than one of real hunger. He motioned for her to approach him, grunting at a spot on the ground in front of him. It seemed he only knew rudimentary communication.</s>

It was another uneventful day at Shujin Academy; the teacher lectured on about one thing or another while the sun shone beautifully outside. Thankfully, it was finally lunch time and students were now meandering around, eating their lunches in the cafeteria, in their classrooms or around random tables. There were two students in particular however who were not eating lunch and were engaged in rather unvirtuous activities. If one walked by the gym storage building, it could be heard. Indeed, the door had been left slightly ajar as one of the occupants was feeling rather adventurous, hoping someone might hear and be curious. The sound of flesh slapping rapidly against flesh, the sound of loud and lustful moans and groans echoed from the building. Inside was the recent transfer student, Akira, and the studious Makoto. However, she was hardly studious now, bent over as she was over a vaulting horse, her skirt pushed up to reveal her bubbly ass, her top seemed almost ripped open to reveal her rather sizeable breasts molding up against said vaulting horse. Behind her, Akira was gripped her ass, slamming his massive cock deep into her dripping womanhood. "How is it, Makoto...being fucked in school like this..."Akira asked with a lustful chuckle, leaning down and nibbling on her earlobe, sucking on it as his hand slithered down the front of her body and began to rapidly rub her clitoris while his cock pounded in an out of her like a piston, his tip slamming up against her cervix with every rough thrust. Another pair of students were wandering down the streets of Tokyo, hand in hand. Neither of them had school today, or it would be more apt to say one didn't have class and the other wasn't currently attending. Yusuke let out a blissful sigh as he walked down the street with Futaba, squeezing her hand gently. "It truly is a lovely day....I'm happy I get to spend it with you." He turned to give her a smile before it turned almost deathly serious. "Also, just because one of my pieces sold and I got paid, please don't pick anywhere too expensive to eat..." Being chronically poor as he was, Yusuke took every chance he could to treat Futaba when he was able by buying her new games or computer parts or taking her out to eat. He just had to remind her sometimes that well, he wasn't exactly Da Vinci in terms of how much money his paintings could pull in.

Perhaps it was the years of repression under the strict rules of her older sister and the school itself, the pressure of having to maintain a perfect image in order to get ahead in the world. Makoto never thought she'd be the lustful type, but lately, all of her actions were pointing her down a sordid direction thanks to Akira's presence at the school. Attracted to the dark-haired leader of the Phantom Thieves both romantically and physically, Makoto couldn't help but return his advances one day in class. From then on, it seemed like they had gotten progressively more daring, fucking in the classroom just moments after class was dismissed or on the roof against the fence above the athletic field. Today was a wild one. Makoto found herself bent over shamefully on a vaulting horse in a storage building, her ass bouncing back on Akira's cock. She tried to anticipate and control her moans and cries. Who knows who might hear them? Just the thought of getting caught by any member of the school forced her pussy to constrict around him. She dug her nails into the fabric of the vaulting horse to keep from losing her balance, something entirely likely when Akira was thrusting inside of her. Each stroke forced her head up, her creamy mounds bouncing in unison. "I...ah... love it!!! It... It feels so good, Akira-kun!" She exclaimed, her lips twisting into a lewd expression. She was getting so close... just as she heard the footsteps of someone from the trail outside. "Ah...ungh!!! Akira-kun! Someone's-" But it was too late. Someone Makoto recognized as another senior slipped into the gym storage room, apparently not noticing the strange grunts of pleasure or the stench of sex in the air. The brown-haired boy stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the box he was carrying on the ground as soon as he saw the student council president bent over a piece of gymnastics equipment, taking the transfer student's dick like a animal in heat. "Niijima-san?!" The student gasped, nervously squishing his legs together to hide the sudden bulge in his pants. It was a strange sight even for their friends to see the two walking together. The artist and the hacker. Even Futaba sometimes questioned it but decided to let things go where they may. The eloquent and precise artist was perhaps the first (and maybe the only) one to bring Futaba out of her shell by messing with her figures and taking an inquisitive but sincere interest in her hobbies. Eventually she found that she could just talk to him and he would never make her feel strange for it, no matter how much he childishly scolded her for silly things. "You know, Inari," she said teasingly, "we coulda just stayed with Sojiro and had some curry... or are you too scared of him to attempt that now? Mehehe." She put her hand behind her back and thought on it "Okay! I want sushi! Not the conveyor belt stuff though! We can go up from that, can't we?"</s>

Yusuke Urameshi took a deep, appreciative breath of the scenic surroundings. The beautiful landscape of the temple grounds and land surrounding it had to offer was only ever so impacting when he climbed one of his favorite trees. This tree was taller than most of the others, giving a perfect 360-degree view of much of the land they'd inherited. And this being one of his favorites, the higher branches were thicker and stronger than the others, offering a lovely nook to settle in. He couldn't be sure, but he did have the idea that these characteristics within the high branches of some of the trees that littered the area had at least something to do with Kurama, if not everything. After all, they shared just about every one of their favorite spots, which was quite possibly what made them favorites in the first place. Chocolate eyes looked down over the landscape again, pulling in the calming sight and letting it settle in his bones. His attention was drawn toward the temple, as usual during times of rest. Despite needing a moment to get away for himself, there was simply no chance he could actually pull himself away from the area without his interests falling back on his home; his family. Up here, still within view of the temple, he was able to get away just enough that the squabbling chatter, bickering fights, and chaos that surrounded the rather full 'house hold' couldn't reach him quite as easily. But he could sense the goings-on as well. Should anything go wrong, he would be able to make his way back in moments. As he looked over the grounds, he caught sight of the bright red hair of his husband. Focusing his eyes, he saw the blonde curls of the small girl who used to scream at the fox's very presence from over his shoulder. He couldn't help but smile at the warmth the interaction between the two brought to his core. Lilly wasn't as interested in Yusuke anymore, surely, but Kurama was getting closer with them by the day. For someone who supposedly hated children, Kurama was getting close to them by the day. The siblings, Keichi and Lilly, were the two he was growing closest with. Keichi was his apprentice so that didn't really surprise the former detective. Though he still wasn't quite sure how Lilly had managed to grab his attention. If he had to guess, he would probably be a bit projective with it. The tiny girl was so adorable it was sometimes painful, at least in Yusuke's eyes. So, if he had to guess, he would suppose it probably had to do with that. It was insanely hard not to fall for something so cute. He knew; he'd fallen so hard for the cute thing in his life that he'd continued to follow it around like a lost puppy and had eventually married 'it'. A chuckle wracked his chest for another reason though. A niggle of jealousy and possession rolled through him as he watched what little of the two he could see interacting. It amused him because he knew it was silly of course, but more so because he almost couldn't decide which of the two creatures below he was more jealous of; almost. A warm sigh huffed past his chest as he nestled down against the tree and formed into the grooved branch comfortably. Closing his eyes allowed him a nice long moment to soak up the warm rays of a beautifully sunny day all over again. His arms lifted and hands slid behind his head for a bit of comfort against the hard bark. If Kurama were here, Yusuke would have had a much more comfortable pillow to rest against than his own hands. He'd wanted desperately to ask the man to join him; to take a nap curled up to his sweet fox and lying partially in his lap like he used to do so much more often than lately. Because with all of the children he'd brought in, and both of their apprentices to deal with, it was hard to find time together. Certainly they were able to when they really needed, but it wasn't as often as either of them liked... He hadn't asked though. Because he had noticed that interaction between the two creatures he'd been watching just a moment ago. He couldn't interrupt Kurama and Lilly's time together. The softest of all soft spots he might have were reserved specifically for those two. It wasn't something he'd decided of course, just something that had happened. But seeing those two together, their interaction warm, thrilled, and abundantly enjoyed; he simply couldn't bear to be the one to pull them apart. It was okay though. Even though he would have preferred to have his husband sharing in his 'alone' time at the moment it wasn't exactly horrible without him... Sometimes it could be, but just at the moment he could bare it. Another warm sigh rolled from his chest unbidden as the focus in his eyes bled away and he simply stared at the scenery he was graced with all over again. He was, in fact, so relaxed from the delicious wind wafting over him and the warm sun heating him to the core at the moment that it was entirely possible he might find a small nap for himself even without the comfort his husband brought him.

She wasn't such a terrible creature. Ever since she stopped wailing at the mere sight of him, she had become almost pleasant. Almost. He still had a strong dislike of children; she still grabbed at everything with grubby little fingers, she still covered her face in food when ever she ate, she still smelled of dirt and mud from 'play time.' She still pulled his husband from his arms on a nightly basis... No, that wasn't quite right. Once he and Yusuke began checking her bed and closet before bed the nightly interruptions had gone down considerably, but they still happened, and often at the worst possible times. Daily/nightly sex was still a far off memory, sorely missed. Still, it made his mate happy to have the little strays living in the temple, and so long as he didn't try to bring in more, the fox would try to make the best of it. He'd been wildly surprised when the youngest member of the temple came up to him, greeting him with the usual growl he begrudgingly returned (he still found it to be tedious and a tad embarrassing when done in front of others), and pleaded him with big blue eyes to teach her about plants. He'd been suspicious at first, but over the past week or so she had worked hard with each and every lesson. They weren't nearly as cruel as Kurama's lessons for his brother Keichi. She now sat in front of him, her legs and arms crossed, and a stern look of concentration on her face. It matched Yusuke's all too well. "Come now," the fox scolded lightly. "You have performed this task before on several occasions." He was knelt in front of her, his back straight and expression focused. He took these lessons seriously, no matter how menial it seemed to be. Ten leaves and seeds were set in front of the little girl, and she was meant to match each seed to its leaf. Lily didn't look up from her task, but she twitched when Kurama spoke, and her arms uncrossed. Tiny, grubby fingers reached out and moved one seed, then another, before her memory seemed to kick in and she began moving them around without pause. The fox smiled, just a little. It was nice to have someone else in the temple interested in botany. Heaven knew his own charge had no desire for it. Emerald eyes were focused on the foliage on the ground, and he kept that focus even when a wave of ice rolled along his spine and set every hair on his body one end in a preen. A powerful, but harmless aura was coming closer. A white haired fox demon causally strolling up the temple stairs. That wasn't such an odd thing. After Genkai's death the temple and its grounds had become a safe haven for demon's traversing the realms. It happened significantly less now, the travelers often put off by the swarm of children, but it wasn't unheard of, so this shouldn't be so frightening. Kurama swallowed thickly as the energy grew closer, and the more it did the more familiar he realized it was. No... No he had to be mistaken. He couldn't be! Why would that man be coming here; but he couldn't deny it. Lily stared up at him in confusion. She had finished a while ago... "'Rama?" She asked. The little girl could probably say his name properly by now, but she insisted on using the shortened version. The fox jumped a little and blinked away the fog in his vision. "Lily," he said softly, gently, but with a strong sense of urgency. "I need you to go find Keichi, and do not leave his side. Not even for a moment. Understand?" She opened her mouth to argue as any toddler her age would, but he narrowed his eyes sharply at the girl and her lips instantly pursed. He didn't know if she feared punishment, or actually caught the gravity of the situation on some elementary level, but she got off of the ground and scurried her way inside the temple to find her brother. Kurama watched her run off until she disappeared behind a door, then he let himself shudder. His whole body shook in a quick spasm, but it stopped almost as soon as it started. The red fox stood and casually brushed off his clothes. There was a warmth that flooded over him. The bit of Yusuke's energy mingled with his own offered a bit of comfort, and it was made stronger by the protective aura Yusuke exuded almost constantly. Kurama looked up in the direction of his mate. He couldn't see the other man, but he knew exactly where he was. He lifted his hand and made a 'come here' motion before his attention fell to the open gate of the temple just in time to see the personification of his nightmares and long repressed fantasies. Kurama found himself walking closer without his consent, and silently pleaded for Yusuke to hurry home. The fox demon at the gate was taller than Youko by at least a few inches. His snow white hair looked as soft as it was and reached down past his backside. Matching fox ears were tall and perfectly sculpted, and the tail was wide and fluffy and long. It was slowly wagging across his backside as the beautiful redhead came to greet him. Once reaching him, emerald eyes had to lift and his head tilted back to meet the golden gaze staring him down with a kindness that made him want to both retch and tumble into his arms. Kurama opened his mouth to speak, but nothing left his parted lips. Nothing but a tiny, whimpered, "Sir?" A bright smile pulled the white fox's lips. "So the stories are true." His voice was warm and collected. The demon stood tall, and with his perfect posture and the traditional kimono decorating his pale skin with dark purples and light blues, he looked as regal as he acted. Kurama flinched when a clawed hand reached out, but he eagerly nuzzled into the large, warm palm that rested on his cheek. "This body... it suits you. So small and delicate, even though you are anything but." Shuichi swallowed again, his lips quivering as he warred within himself. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw himself at this fox, he wanted to... to... He stayed rooted to the ground. "I've heard you've taken a new title. Master Kurama." The smirk that pulled his lips made Kurama whimper pitifully. "My mate and I train the children here," he tried to explain. "Yes... of course." The redhead jumped as he was suddenly enveloped in a strong hug. It was so... He was completely surrounded by the fox's arms, and Kurama couldn't stop from returning the embrace tightly. He nearly puked in fear and joy as the other demon purred into his hair. "I have missed you. Little Kit."</s>

The once proud city of Enbarr was left ravaged and desolate, its once ostentatious, marble walls painted in a fresh, grotesque shade of crimson. Perhaps it was a fitting end for the Empire: to have its halls completely adorned in the maiden color of House Hresvelg... yet victory did not fulfill the Lion that prowled the halls of Enbarr's throne room. Victory failed to comfort him... nor did it bring even a bittersweet sensation to his pain-riddled thoughts. The defeat of the Empire felt only hollow, like a dried riverbed that once breamed with life. As Dimitri stood in the presence of his childhood friend, he could only feel the lamentations of the dead, the everlasting carnage of war and most of all - betrayal. But justice waited patiently, waiting for Dimitri to strike the final blow. Raising his lance, Areadbhar, death's stroke was suddenly paused by a moment of weakness. Kneeling before him, he watched as the Flame Emperor shifted, those familiar, luminescent eyes gazing up towards him. They were soft and comforting - their vibrant iridescence like a kaleidoscope that gently peered back into his childhood, when life was more simple and innocent. Edelgard von Hresvelg. It was a name that pervaded his every thought, like a shadow lingering behind every corner. But it had once been a name that made his heart skip, a name that... perhaps in another world, may have made for a loving Queen. It was then that the Lion had made his gravest mistake, a transient thought that perhaps, she could be saved. That life could return to normal. That Edelgard could still be. The Lion extended his hand, an open palm which offered a final opportunity for salvation to the Empress. His lips curved upwards, gracing his portrait with a solemn smile, as if beckoning his formerly betrothed to accept his hand once again. She had been defeated, but surely that did not mean that she had to die? Hadn't enough blood already been senselessly spilled? "El ..." His once Prince Charming called out to her, invoking her childhood namesake in an attempt to remind her of their once mutual affections. Maybe she would take his hand... maybe they could start over- The Empress' alluring lips drew into a crooked, wavering smile. It was at that moment the illusion of happiness had been dispelled completely. The Edelgard that Dimitri had once loved was dead... and even before she drew the blade from her hip, his remaining eye began tremoring in sadness. The dagger that he had given her in his youth was bared; the Eagle's final attempt to strike the Lion with her talon. The blade fell upon him with malevolent intent, the final, lingering betrayal that sought to end Dimitri's life thrusting through the air and biting his neck. He refused to step away from the Empress, instead intercepting her wrist into his overwhelming grip, tightening until she would have no choice but to release the knife from her hand. As the knife clattered beneath them, a faint trickle of blood cascaded down the flank of Dimitri's neck. The wound was far from fatal and yet, it was clear that whatever remained of Dimitri had been slain. A moment of silence endured, the tension of Edelgard's mortal blow festering within the King. Suddenly, he drew his hand back, opening his palm before swinging it across Edelgard's portrait in a resounding smack which echoed throughout the room. The perfect tone in her cheeks was instantly marred with red, delivering enough force to send her gaze reeling away from him. Before she could collect herself, a thick, coarse hand reached underneath her chin, capturing her neck and claiming the dainty appendage into his authoritative grip. His digits began to press down tightly against her walls, allowing the slow realization of asphyxiation to find her seductive gaze as he pressed out the air from her lungs. "Professor," Dimitri didn't even look back, his glare still falling upon the victim writhing in his grip,"Leave." Although a worried look took her face, Byleth knew better than to get involved in the matter any further. She said nothing as she turned around, heels clattering as she strode away from the throne room. It wasn't until the croaking sound of the door slamming shut that Dimitri would tighten his stranglehold on the Empress' neck even further. His masculine grip constricted slowly, encroaching on that dainty, vulnerable windpipe until the Lion could hear the Eagle's throat desperately crackle and her body began to convulse under his formidable grip. But he wouldn't let her go. Instead he would wait. Watching and watching, until her saliva began to froth between her lips and those pretty gemstones began to lull upwards towards their lids... and in the moments just before she would fall into unconsciousness: he would finally release her. But freedom wouldn't last for long. Reaching down, he grabbed his new prisoner by one of the crescent shaped horns that flanked her head, tugging roughly upon it until she had no choice but to follow his hand upwards and onto her feet. As soon as she was on her heels, he turned her around, pulling her back into his chest as his commanding hands instantly began groping and grabbing at the velvet fabric covering her breasts. Years of war had only strengthened Dimitri, and with but a single pull, the sound of tearing fabric took the throne room, the top of her crimson dress torn asunder. Golden buttons popped from her chest, pattering against the floor as her cleavage was bared. But Edelgard's degradation was far from complete, his hands quickly delivering the same fate to her brassiere, tearing it free from her chest and sending the tattered undergarment to the ground. Her well-endowed chest was now on full, humiliating display. "You belong to me now."A deep, primal growl escaped the Lion's lips, his hot breath singeing the Empress' ear."These... belong to me now."As he spoke, his coarse, powerful hands groped at the exposed mounds of flesh that had been fully exposed. Pancaked between his manly digits, he grabbed them in an objectifying manner, hands tightening until he would be able to feel her body writhing in pain. Only then would he release, fingers roaming so that they could deliver a similar squeeze to her nipples."Do you understand, whore?" As the whispered insult left his lips, the King bared his teeth, gently biting down on the the lobe of her ear... Her fall had just begun.

It looks as though my path... will end here... Even as the empress awaited the consequence of her defeat, settled upon her knees before the conqueror of the Adrestian Empire, Edelgard von Hresvelg regretted nothing. There was a deep satisfaction in what she had accomplished, an unyielding righteousness that made her life and her death meaningful. She would gracefully accept her fate. Silently and fearlessly, the woman's pride remained intact, despite the fact that she was crumpled on the ground before the dais of her own throne. The light of the sun spilled in to the throne room at her back, filtering in through high windows and pouring around a pair of tall marble columns. After several long moments, Edelgard's lilac eyes slowly opened, her sight falling upon her own shadow. She had expected a quick death, but her justice was not dispensed swiftly. Curious as to the delay, the empress convinced herself that each breath should be her last. Edelgards sight eventually cast upwards. She focused upon Dimitri, his towering armored form bathed in the golden rays of the sun. He watched her in return, his expression painfully stoic. The empress's gaze briefly marveled at the bright cerulean blue of the king's eye, attempting to glean any trace of emotion, with very little success. And then: Dimitri offered an outstretched hand. Her sight trailed to the curve of his lips, soaking in the melancholic smile to be found there. El I wanted... to walk with you. It had been impossible, she knew. For all the love she once held for the Prince of Faerghus, her ambitions had made them wholly incompatible. Social reform would not have come from diplomacy. The grip of the Church of Seiros over Fodlan would have never been released, nor their lies dispelled, by anything less than fire and blood. Edelgard had devoted herself to change; and while Dimitri and others disapproved of the means to her ends, they were naive at best to think there was any other option. Her own moment of weakness lasted only a heartbeat. If only she could take Dimitri's hand. If only she could believe that they could somehow heal the wounds between them. If only. But they didn't live in a fairytale. Dimitri, allied with the church, would undoubtedly undo her life's work. The prospect enraged her. The two of them would never be able to find peace in each other's company. There was only one way for this to end. Edelgard reached for her dagger: the very dagger Dimitri had given her as a parting gift in their youth. Without hesitation, she lunged at the man she had once loved, aiming to bury the blade deep into the side of his neck. He was unyielding, catching her wrist just as the steel of her weapon tasted his flesh. The empress growled with frustration as Dimitris grip on her tightened, and continued to press desperately forward as if she could overcome his greater strength by sheer will alone. Unfortunately, the advance of her blade had been halted completely; she had managed to draw blood but she had been far from inflicting a fatal blow. Her adversary continued to increase the pressure he applied to her wrist. In the end, Edelgards hand unwillingly wilted open, the dagger clattering at their feet. She had expected him to crush the bones of her wrist, as she well knew he possessed the strength to do so. When he released her, the twist of her angry expression softened, just in time for her to reap the reward of her actions. A startled, quiet cry escaped her lips as King Dimitri delivered a hard smack to her face. The blow forced her head to turn over her shoulder, the intensity of the hit great enough to even cause her to twist slightly at the waist in recoil. The initial pain stung and the aftershock was searing. The empresss eyes narrowed as she started to straighten her position, prepared to retaliate But before she could act, or even speak, the lions strong hand closed around her throat. Her eyes widened, then. Edelgards hands impulsively came upon Dimitris grip, her fingers curling around the bend of his hand. She didnt attempt to pry herself from his grasp, as no doubt she should. She knew, however, that this would be the end. Struggling helplessly would likely only give the man further satisfaction; a sentiment she could hardly hold against him, given their history, but an indulgence she didnt intend to give him, nevertheless. She stared at his face as he held her in his death grip, his hand ever tightening and encroaching upon her windpipe. Her ears filled with the panicked escalation of her own heartbeat, and yet she faintly heard the King of Faerghus as he dismissed Byleth, most of all aware of the coldness to be found in his voice. There would be no argument from his former professor, Edelgard knew: all for the better, so far as she was concerned, as she did not desire any further audience to her demise. As the other woman left them, Dimitri seemed content to snuff out his enemy, his grip collapsing upon her throat. Soon it will all be over, the woman comforted herself. Even as she unintentionally fought to draw a breath and her hands desperately obeyed her body's will to live rather than accepting the futility of her mind, her fingers grasping and pulling at the man's hold as if she might be able to pry him from her throat, the empress continued to assure herself thusly. Defiantly, she continued to stare at her killer; though the entirety of her face flushed to match the bright red mark his slap had left upon her cheek, and she knew her countenance would be nothing more than pitiful in that moment. Sounds emitted from her throat, sharp stabs of nonsensicalnoise intermixed with terrible suppressed gurgles. Her body writhed in opposition of her fate, eventually giving way to convulsions. Her vision blurred and she could feel herself slipping away to that sweet release... But Dimitri was cruel. Rather than allow her to die, he found her release to be more tangible than what she had expected. Edelgard buckled to the ground as the king ceased to hold her throat. Violent coughs competed with gasping breaths, the womans eyes squeezing shut to expel the involuntary tears that had welled within her eyes in the moment directly proceeding what she was sure to be the moment of her death. She used her sleeve to wipe the foam from her lips, the few moments of recovery afforded to her just enough for the woman to begin to regain her sight. Pulsing blotches of light and dark spheres obscured her vision, and yet she was able find focus upon her fallen dagger. She had been droppedso close to it; she need only reach to retrieve her weapon, and then Before she could equip herself, though, she felt a painful yank upon her scalp; Dimitri grasped one of the horn ornaments that was securely intertwined within her hair, lifting her upwards by the handhold. Her mind wasn't yet above the haze the recent lack of oxygen had provided, and so Dimitri found little resistance as he forced the woman to find her feet. Edelgard lacked for balance, even as she found her footholds, and so she easily turned as the king spun her to face away from him. Suddenly aware of the press of his unforgiving breastplate against her back, the womans brows drew inward in confusion and then she felt his strong hands upon her chest. Her lips parted to speak, but the only sound that escaped was a disapproving scoff. The king paid no mind, of course; he fondled her fully entitled. He unabashedly felt her up through her clothing, and before Edelgard could formulate a defense against his assault, he took further liberties with her: taking a hold of her garments, unceremoniously grasping and tearing the fabric from her frame. "Dimitri, stop!" she scolded him between labored breaths. Her tone betrayed her fear and did nothing to inspire the man to heed. The proof of this was a continued escalation: without hesitation, the king offered similar treatment to her underclothes, ripping away the final covering of her breasts. Her reflex was to attempt to cover herself, to shield her body from the exposure. But Dimitri had the advantage and his hands were upon her ample chest immediately following the disrobing. The empress struggled against him, wriggling her body as she fought to free herself from the hateful embrace. Alas, her attempts were to no avail. She felt nothing but contempt as he spoke to her, the heat of his breath teasing the cuff of her ear as his awful claims spilled from his lips. She hated him, then - the vileness of his trespasses against her body unlocking a depth of loathing she didn't know existed. The way he groped her breasts, as if proof of the words he was speaking: his blatant disregard of her, his manhandling increasing to what became a show of strength. It was obvious he was purposely hurting her, exponentially making the situation worse by subjecting her to pain in such a humiliating fashion. She writhed against him, stifling a groan of discomfort. When he released his painful grip of her chest, the relief was short lived, his fingers shifting their attentions to her nipples. A shock reverberated through her body in response, the nubs of flesh betraying her as they hardened against his abuse. She clenched her jaw and exhaled a huffed breath as she felt his teeth close in upon her earlobe. His bite was surprisingly gentle, like a playful nip of a true lover, and the woman was ashamed to admit that - perhaps, in another life - she might have enjoyed such attentions from the man. Mustering the final shreds of her dignity, she spoke with a tone of command that came naturally to an empress. "I will never belong to you, Dimitri." The words poured from her lips like venom, full of hatred and spite. She jerked her head to the side, attempting to free her earlobe from between his teeth, though his hold upon her body allowed her very little range of motion. "I am not your whore," she hissed disdainfully. And for all your faults, surely you're still better than a rapist.</s>

It was a slow night at the bar, 7th Heaven. The proprietor, Tifa Lockheart, was leaning against the counter, bored. She had both of her arms up on the bar, chin resting on top them. She was gorgeous, with large breasts barely contained by what was no better than a white sports bra. Her breasts were practically spilling out. Her garnet eyes looked hazy, and her black hair was loose except for a tie at the very bottom of her hair. The outfit continued with a short black mini skirt that barely covered her bubble butt and suspenders. Long black gloves with shorter maroon fingerless gloves, along with black thigh highs and maroon boots completed the look. "Ughhhh...so bored!" Tifa stood up straight, picking up a towel and polishing the bar. Her crush, Cloud Strife, was off on AVALANCHE business which meant she was the only one to guard the shop. Her eyes flicked to the pinball machine, where she knew the secret lair was. She groaned, putting her arms behind her back and lacing her fingers together, pushing her chest out. When she relaxed her breasts bounced, nearly hitting her chin. Surely something had to happen tonight, at least a customer that could interest her.

Sol Blaze looked over the distance to see the 7th Heaven bar. He had been a semi-regular there, not often due to his travel trips out for work but enough so that he had recognized most of the regulars there when he had been there. Walking up he'd start to enter through the doors as he looked at the empty place in time to see Tifa's ample breasts bounce and nearly hit her chin as she had stretched. The man had wielded two swords on his back and was dressed like most adventurers, with light armor that showed off his fit body, black clothes underneath the armor covering his skin but it was skin tight. The armor a light shade of red with dark black pants that did have a belt with a few supplies on it. He had been known as a Diver, which was a fancy term the locals used for those who went digging into ruins. "Slow night?" he asked Tifa as he walked over to the bar and took stock of the best reason to come to 7th Heaven in the fact that there was the sexy owner and bartender Tifa there. "Just got back in from some work," he offered, giving her a grin. "Good trip this time, though sadly someone already wants me back out there again."</s>

Issei sighed, seeing as it was finally the damn weekend, and the plan for a strange date for him since he wasn't really a person to be liked by girls much of course being a pervert. It was strange for a girl to get some interest in him but it seemed to work out that they would be having a date and he was happy with it finally having something good in his life even if he also somewhat felt it wouldn't last long and she was really a girl to just be playing him. He sighed as he frowned a bit, seeing the high chance of that possibility happening than anything else. They were to meet at the fountain, of course where people usually met, as he changed and slowly started to go out and meet her then. Even with this seeming to be a joke or at the slim chance not, he would try to not make a big deal about having fun on the date at least for now.

Raynare or rather Yuuma Amano as she was currently going by, was a fallen angel, she was waiting for Issei, someone she planned to elinmante near the end of the date, due to reasons of concern. She was currently at five foot four, due to her taking on the appearance of a school girl, she wore a simple white shirt which hugged her large bosom, and was wearing high heels with a black skirt that hugged her ass, she had a purse around her shoulders, she tapped her foot waiting for Issei, she began to mess with her long black hair.</s>

Crypt, a normal citizen of Vale, 5'11" with dark brown hair to mid-length, was caught up in an attack of Grim overriding the small part of the city he lived in. A couple of teams were dispatched in to take care of the grim, and while in the middle of trying to evacuate the city to some safe house away from the grim. He managed to get away from most of the fighting, but found himself cornered by one of the grim, most of the teams that were taking care of the grim were farther away. After a moment, Crypt got knocked out, finding himself waking up in a safehouse, with a warm feeling down below. When he opened his eyes and focused a bit more, he found his cock between two soft mounds of one of the Grim hunters Yang.

Yang eagerly pumped her breasts around Crypt's throbbing and massive cock. Her cleavage was sticky and coated with his pre-cum, and her long blonde hair obscured some of the erotic sight. She would pause her pumping every few moments to lean down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, giving it a skillful suck before swirling her agile tongue around it. She happily moaned as she lapped up his pre-cum with her tongue before opening her eyes and realizing Crypt was now awake. His cock left her mouth with an audible pop, and she grinned up at him. "Morning, cutie," she said in a teasing manner, giving his tip a soft kiss after she asked.</s>

Raikou flickered her wrist, causing the blood on her blade to splatter across the ground but leaving the steel blade nearly clean of blood. Her chest rose up and down slowly as she looked around, making sure there weren't any foes left. She and her Master had gone out on a patrol that should have been pretty easy, but they were ambushed by shadow servants and powerful demons. Raikou had done her duty as a Servant though and defended her Master, slaughtering their foes to the last. Her clothes were ripped and cut in places, showing off more of her skin than she was used to, and for some reason...she felt warm. Not from the combat, no...she knew this feeling. It was lust and desire, she could feel her womanhood starting to grow wet as she turned her attention to her Master, doing her best to seem composed. "Master, are you alright? I believe that is the last of them." Raikou sounded sure and firm as she sheathed her blade, but her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could tell her cheeks were likely flushed with a light shade of pink. What was going on with her? Was she so frustrated that she wanted her Master to reward her with a round of love making because she did well? Surely that couldn't be it... right?

"Ah, I'm okay," Alex spoke - her master was certainly different from her, with tanned skin and dark eyes, his gaze looked to the carnage that she had brought to their enemies, yet again. The woman was simply marvelous at that! Breathing out softly, he couldn't help but feel a little excited from the mutually shared adrenaline. "...I think that will be all we'll be doing out here today." His golden eyes flickered toward the statuesque woman's, breathing out more sharply. "We'll return to base and take a moment to rest, what do you say?" Something about her was different, and as he tried to focus on the what and the how, even he could feel the growing desire between the two of them.</s>

The fight had almost cost them their lives. Maka Albarn and her weapon Kana Tsuchihara were being rushed into the nurses office as their lives were on the line. They had been attacked by Jack the Ripper, a well-known ex-Meister who went berserk and started attacking other Meisters and their weapons. They had been sent on a mission to take care of the massive outbreak of kishin in Denrei, a town close to the DWMA. They were exhausted and surrounded but Maka and Kana fought hard together, sure Kana wasn't Soul, Maka's ex-weapon who got assigned to a new partner because of the falling out both her and him had, but Kana was strong in her own way. Kana's weapon form was a rather unique scythe, it was a double-sided one. Kana herself was different, like her weapon form. She was a wolf girl, or to be more blunt, half-wolf and half-human. She had ears and tail of a wolf, but also once a month she'd go into heat like a wolf. She came to the DWMA in hopes to someday become a death scythe like her mother before her. She was normally a quiet and shy girl, finding a partner was hard at first till Lord Death introduced her to Maka. Maka and her ex-partner and weapon got into a huge fight and they both decided it was best if they both found new partners. Their friendship had been tarnished in many ways and Lord Death thought it be best to just let the two go their own ways. Soul found a new partner rather quickly, however Maka didn't till Kana came around. Lord Death introduced the two and wanted to test them out, to see if they'd be compatible, which they were. It was very rare that the same genders would be grouped up, but in this case it was an exception. "Maka to your right!" Kana yelled as a Kishin was rushing towards them. Maka swiftly jumped up and took it down as she slashed at the others who came at her. "Look up Maka! Three above us!" Kana cried out as Maka looked up and quickly spun Kana around as she quickly killed off the three that were above them. It took them some time, but they managed to finish them all off. Tired and exhausted, they thought they were finished for the night when they were attacked by Jack the Ripper! "So you dealt with my little puppets have you? Pity. Looks like I'll have to finish you off myself!" He yelled as he swiftly moved towards them. He was faster than anything they had ever faced before, and it was hard to fight him off. He cut through them like they were nothing, Maka couldn't hold her own against this guy. Both she and Kana fell to the ground, both bleeding very badly. "Weak and pathetic you both are. Not even a challenge." He said smirking as he thought he had killed them off; he took his leave. Once he was gone, Kana slowly got up. "Maka!" She cried out as she leaned down to check if her partner was alive, which to her relief she was, just unconscious. "I will take us home as fast as I can." Kana whispered as she lifted Maka up despite her own wounds. Wincing, she quickly made her way back to DWMA as blood flew in the air with each leap she made. Not caring for her own life, she got back home as two of the guards who were standing watch rushed to their sides. "Kana! What happened to you and Maka?!" Gojyo asked as Kana fell to the ground with Maka in her arms. All she could make out was "Jack..." before she fell limp. She wasn't dead but in critical condition. "Get the med team out here right now!" Honryu yelled out as Gojyo nodded and rushed inside to get the med team. Kana had lived with her parents who had achieved what every Meister and their weapon wished to achieve, becoming a part of the elite force for Lord Death. Kana's father was her mother's Meister and when Kana was born they didn't know if she was a weapon or a Meister at first. They watched her over the years and when she started showing signs of being a weapon was when they started training her properly. Most of the kids made fun of her for her ears and tail, she wasn't 'normal' to them, but her father wasn't 'normal' either. He was just like her. She enrolled in the DWMA last year and has been working with Maka for over seven months now. It's been a long and hard process but the two of them work very well together. It was as if they were meant to be partners. As they were rushed through the halls all Kana could think about in her unconscious state was hoping Maka was safe. She had used up all her strength to make sure her Meister got back safely and got treated before it became fatal. Before Kana had no friends, only her parents. Maka was the very first friend she ever had and she would protect her with her very life, which is pretty much what she did. The med team rushed her to the nurses office where the new school nurse was there to tend to the sick or wounded. She had only been working here for a few months, however she was very good at what she did. They didn't even knock on the door, they just brought the two inside which they were greeted by the nurse, Medusa. "They were attacked by Jack the Ripper. We will leave the two in your care Medusa. Please don't let them die, they're so young and have their futures ahead of them!" One of them spoke before they bowed and took their leave without waiting for her to say a word. Both Maka and Kana were barely breathing and were near death's gate, but Medusa was good at what she did and she would make sure that these two didn't die. However she had plans for these two and with it being night, no one would be entering her room to interfere with whatever she had plans for.

Medusa had been working on the formula for the black blood for a long while...It was something she was experimenting with...knowing that the power it could grant someone was both great and yet devastating, and she was perfecting a formula of the black blood so that she could literally control the one she gave it to. That was a month ago...and she had finally finished her work on the new black blood. She always kept the sample syrum in a syringe under her table in a small cabinet. By the time Maka and Kana had been rolled in to the nurse's office and the situation was explained to her, Medusa smiled gently to those that brought her in. "I assure you I will do whatever it is in my power to keep them alive." She said as she stood up and walked over to the two unconscious girls, checking their pulses, heart rate, and seeing their blood pressure. They were going to die. Unless...She grinned and moved to the cabinet containing the black blood syringe...and moved over to Maka. She knew that if she injected Maka with the blood, it would safe her life...but make her Medusa's new test dummy and lab experiment. She cupped the girl's cheek, feeling how cold her skin was. A devious grin on her face as she trailed her painted nails down the girl's body until it went down her arm and to a major artery, pressing the needle of the syringe to the artery and slowly injecting the black blood into her. Now it would only be a matter of time for the blood to take its effect on her, saving her life and yet making her Medusa's slave. If the creation of this modified black blood came to fruition, then Maka would unconsciously do whatever Medusa wanted...though...Medusa was unaware of the psychotic side effects that the black blood held for those infected by it. Now that Maka was done, she began to check Kana's pulse and life signatures. She was doing far better than Maka...but without treatment, she was going to die as well. "At least I don't have to waste anymore of my...experiment." She said with a grin and began to put an IV into Kana's wrist and hook it up to bag of regular blood that was Kana's blood type. She made certain Kana was on life support while Maka was recovering. So long as Kana rested, she would be better in no time.</s>

Friday night. It was late. Late enough that Maya was just getting ready to close up the office. She was tidying up the place. Things had been slow. No cases in a week. It was rough. But this was the life they lead. Maya was on the other side of the room when there was a series of forceful knocks at the door. It was raining out. "Hey Nick, can you get that?" Maya called. She was a bit preoccupied, trying to untangle herself from the mass of electronics cables around her. "Just tell whoever it is we're closed and that we'll get her tomorrow morning." Outside the door she stood. Breathless. Panicked. Covered in blood that wasn't her own. She was barefooted and soaked to the bone, the white oriental style gown she wore clinging to her like a second skin. Gabrielle pounded at the door again frantically. She knew she didn't have much time before the cops found her, but she knew the man that resided within was the only one who could save her.

That Friday night, Phoenix Wright was just finishing up some bills and the rent he had to pay for the Wright & Co. Law Offices room when Maya just happened to get tangled up in the cables of the new TV that he had bought for Maya to watch her Steel Samurai show on, though she would have had to hook it up herself since Nick would be busy most of that day. When he heard the knockings on the door, he expected Maya to get it like always until he heard her call to ask him to get it. This would be the first time he would notice that she was tangled up and didn't bother to ask, though mentally he was asking himself how one could get tangled up in such a way. Going to answer the door, Phoenix was surprised to see a woman drenched in blood and soaked from the rain. "Miss, what happened, are you hurt at all?" He said as he grabbed her shoulders since he thought she might collapse. He walked her inside and laid her down on the couch. "Miss, what happened? Why is there blood all over you?"</s>

Her blue eyes were glassy, almost lifeless, as they shifted and glanced up toward the white ceiling. "White," she mused. At one time she supposed it might have been such a color. But then was white truly a color? Or was it all colors? Oh, she could hardly remember any longer nor could she find it within herself to care. As her eyes remained fixed staring at what was above, her head tilted slightly. The ceiling was rancid with deep, dark stains Alice knew not. There was a time when she might have wondered, might have cared. Might have been...curious. Almost shrugging, but not moving, her lips suddenly turned upward into a twisted smile. Matilda Jane, you never look At any toy or picture book I show you pretty things in vain You must be blind, Matilda Jane! Alice grunted, her body jostling as it was roughly shoved against by a weight of something... familiar? Yes. She recognized the weight, the smell. All of it. For a moment, she caught another glimpse of white. Mmm, yes. Airy fabric. Coarse and rough. So itchy. How that gleam of purity hid the darkness of what laid beneath it all. Clever shadows. Clever, clever, clever. She even found it funny. Her body actually knew what to do nowlegs just spreading in wait for the inevitable as her mind seethed. So much anger. 'What was that, Cheshire?' she thought to herself. She could've sworn she'd heard the cat speak, her eyes turning away from the ceiling, seeking out the treacherous grin of the feline stretching out in the cornerits home. I ask you riddles, tell you tales, But all our conversation fails. You never answer me again I fear you're dumb, Matilda Jane! Yelping as the invasion finally came, Alice's eyes began to tear. Slowly, pale alabaster skin began to streak and stain. What was one more thing becoming dirty? She was already dirty. Dirty hands. Dirty face. And now... dirty inside... 'Where is my Protector now?' she wondered. 'Curious... so curious...' Once again he was nowhere. Once again, proving his worthlessness. Was there anyone worth anything any longer? Of course not! Life was one big cycle of worthless. No one was to be trusted. Not a soul! First the parents betray along with the boyfriend. Why wouldn't... he? They all betray eventually. Matilda darling, when I call, You never seem to hear at all. I shout with all my might and main But you're so deaf, Matilda Jane! The cries became louder until her voice was almost hoarse, her throat sore. Alice longed for peace. Something... why wouldn't he come? He'd promised... he'd promised. And even though she'd begun to hate him, a part of her still held on to a hope she knew was hopeless. But as her eyes turned toward Cheshire, grinning at her from his dank corner, she knew she had to. It was the only tangible thread left to the insane world she lived in. The only thing left to cling to. 'Why...?' she thought to herself as she felt her body get used and coated in god only knew what, her tears flowing hot, burning. Matilda Jane, you needn't mind, For, though you're deaf and dumb and blind, There's some one loves you, it is plain And that is me, Matilda Jane! The brush of white fabric caressed Alice's face and she felt the prick against her thigh. Another pair of hands picked up her body and let her crumple into a heap onto floor, just as rancid and 'white' as the ceiling. As always, she knew she was bleeding and as always she knew there would be bruises. Slowly, she crawled over to Cheshire, twitching as she hugged her knees to her chest, her white gown a flimsy covering at best over her slight body. She tucked her blonde locks behind her ears and began to rock. "Why Cheshire? Why?" Alice asked the cat. "Why doesn't he ever come?"

Across the hall, a young man, of 19 sat by his door, he could hear the muffled screams of the girl, Almost every night this went on sometimes for a few minute's sometimes for hours. until 'The Men In White' were done with poor Alice, the Warden despised her young girl, most of the saner inmate's chalked it up to her being envious of Alice, because despite what went on in her head whatever made her insane that is, she was very beautiful. Her skin was a light shade of pink, her hair a beautiful blonde almost the color of honey, and her eyes would remind you of swimming pools that were so blue and cool to the touch, but, as things went on she began being worn down, her hair would usually be dirty with sweat and tears sometimes her face was bruised her lip might have a scar or scab on it, it all depended on that night's assailant, she had several marks on her arms and leg's from the rapist's that came to take what the Warden demanded, her only shred of innocence left from what her parent's did to her, and what she did to them, she came from a home from what he understood that was filled with a drunk father and a very envious mother, her father would drink and have at her daughter beating her raping her whatever he chose and her mother was very violent, calling her a whore and beating her without mercy, it didn't supervise him that she murdered them both and pretty much admitted to it, the only reason she didn't get Death was because she was so young and very much insane, now, she still cries almost every night his promise to protect her was shattered the first time he stood up to them he killed one and paralyzed the other and now every night he gets locked into a padded room left to hear Alice's cries of pain as they rape her, the tears have left lines in his face he was in here because of the simple fact that he sees things strange thing's he often encounters a White Rabbit, who claims he is always late but most it's time is spent in his cell with him, he heard her words in the quiet hallway even with the padding there was a crack under the door where every sound could be heard, her voice found its way to his door as she spoke. "I'm right here...right here..." His words were useless. He knew she had all but hated him now, because the promise he made the first night it happened was broken. The Men made sure of that by locking him inside of a padded room where there was no way out. Before going to humiliate and insult Alice, the Warden waddled over every morning to check and see if he was still inside. But before leaving, he would always whisper, "Forgive me please." While they were given their meds, he would notice her watching. Sometimes, while they were given their meds, he would notice her watching. She didn't speak much, of course, who would after what she had been through? He would stay close during the daytime to make sure nothing happened, but at night, she was alone. In her cell, the cat walked on the floor in front of the blonde and sat down. The moonlight illuminated the room. The cat spoke up as its form could be seen. It was rather emaciated, with skinny, long limbs, and a long tail that went from side to side as it spoke to Alice. "My dear," it said, "it is no fault of his. We both remember what he did that first night."</s>

Enslavement. That was his curse. He had been pulled from his dimension and forced to be the slave of some sex-fiend creature that kept him as a pet. He hated his time there...he hated her. He wished he could kill her, but he had no power over her or her powers. Mora had always been a thorn in his side ever since his enslavement. Tonight, he would escape. She had forgotten to tighten the chain on his collar! Nathan took this opportunity to slowly remove it, leaving only the collar around his neck. He didn't have any clothes for when he escaped, but he didn't care. He just needed to get away and find someone who could open a rift and send him home. He crept out of her room, hoping she wouldn't wake up. What he hadn't counted on was the fact that the door leading out of her room was intentionally creaky.

With a grim laugh, there was suddenly a tentacle holding him by the collar. Mora sat up in bed, smiling. "Well, pup, looks like you're not quite broken yet." She floated up, lifting him with more tentacles and laying him on the bed. "After what that bitch from your world put me through, I'll be taking one of her kind as my slave. And you'll like it." She grinned, rubbing her foot over his crotch. "No use resisting."</s>

Mai woke in darkness. For a moment, her training failed her and she flailed about, crying out wordlessly. Her body was sore and she hurt all over. Realizing she was naked, she hugged herself tightly. Slowly, the memories returned and Mai closed her eyes, wishing they hadn't. She had tried her best to protect herself, but she had failed her master, failed her training. There had been too many of them and against magic she had been unable to hold out for long. The things they had done to her... tears came to her eyes as she realized her vows had been broken. She had been defiled over and over, made to wallow in filth and hurt so badly she had not been able to stop screaming. She had failed her teachings. She reached out and grasped the bars of the cage she was locked in, trying to gaze out into the dark and make something out. A hollowness had settled in her chest. She did not know what they intended with her. She had been warned not to come into Cheliax, but she had not been prepared for such a response to her trying to spread the teachings of her homeland. What would happen to her now?

Taerin, dressed in her purple robes with green flame design over her mithral breastplate with her five-pointed star holy symbol visible and her matching boots of speed, stands just outside the cell in darkness as the monk awakens. She thinks this monk almost cost her four men in the first day. "Now, my pet," she says, "you'd better be worth the trouble my men took to break you. Kneel in nadu position and face the door of this cage." Taerin waits to see if she responds while looking over her body appraisingly and then licking her lips. She readies a hellfire eldritch blast if she fails to obey.</s>

Maya pushed open the door to Moxxi's bar, conveniently named Moxxi's and made her way to a booth away from the door. When she came to Pandora, she hadn't expected to end up playing "hero" or whatever. No, she came to Pandora looking for answers to what it meant to be a Siren, one of six women in the galaxy, probably the universe, with incredibly bad-ass powers. And a set of natural tattoos running the length of one part of her body. Instead? Instead she gets blown up by some 'mask' wearing nutjob, working with three other 'Vault Hunters' to stop said nutjob and now? Now she'd been recruited into helping kick the company said nutjob worked for off the planet. On the bright side? Maya couldn't remember the last time she'd been allowed to cut loose like this, and Lilith, the now only other Siren on Pandora promised to help her find out what the Sirens were and all that. But for now the blue haired Vault Hunter dropped her head onto her arms, placed on top of the table of the booth with a groan. "Lend us a hand. The sooner you help us, the sooner I'll help you. It'll be fun." Maya muttered, recounting the very arguments that Lilith had used on her to get her to help out. "Fuck that. Maya, you got had. Big time. Can't blame anyone but yourself though." she finished with another groan.

Moxxi's was a very popular spot in the city of Sanctuary for a few different reasons. One, it was the only place in the floating city where a person could get alcohol to drown their sorrows (And usually fairly decent stuff considering what a backwater world Pandora was). Two, it was somewhere that Crazy Earl was banned from, so that meant people could drink without his insane yelling in their ears. And thirdly, the woman who ran the joint was a total sexbomb. There she was, Mad Moxxi herself, working behind the bar while dressed up in a sexually depraved psychopath's view of what a circus ringleader would look like. A woman who had had more husbands than boob jobs, and was quite possibly the most dangerous non-superpowered woman on the planet. In the past she had run the Underdome, a massive gladiatorial arena that brought in all the blood-hungry loons of Pandora and made for a very popular attraction. Until... Handsome Jack blew it up. Well, he was dead now, so Moxxi had the last laugh there. She approached Maya with a smile on her face, ready to rectify the situation in regards to the Underdome. Yes, she knew just who could help there. "Why hello there, blue-hair. What brings you by?" she asked casually, sitting up on the reinforced table of the booth "Up for a drink or do you wanna blow up my slot machine again?"</s>

Vlad chuckled. "Yes, those were the days, and my son is starting to discover those days," he said. Anton gasped slightly and moaned into the kiss. He brought her tongue into his mouth to let her explore. "Hmm, I want you," he thought mentally, and shifted to find a comfortable spot to sit, as his breeches became even more uncomfortable. Anton's mind was slowly starting to focus on one thing - his hunger for blood. His fangs lengthened a little more, and his heartbeat increased. He didn't even realize that his scent had changed and intensified.

Albus nodded. "Yes, I thought as much. They will know to go elsewhere, correct?" He knew things weren't the same when it involved two unique individuals like themselves, so there was really no stopping them. Keyria could feel the bulge forming beneath her, she smiled slightly. "I want you as well," her mental voice as strong as if she'd spoken aloud, though honestly, she couldn't be too sure she hadn't. She wanted him to take her, bite her and suckle upon her skin. That feeling alone was one that would surely be imprinted on her mind forever.</s>

Piona wandered the halls of the arena in a seemingly aimless manner. She had been the very first whore to make a deal with the Arena, the first official arena whore. Since that time her business had grown and she became something of a house mother with a number of whores for the arena fighters to choose from. It was a good harmony, a source of pride for her. Piona was herself a beautiful and exotic woman, a dark elf with softened features. Her long ears hung from each side of her long, silver hair. Her body was curvaceous and clearly on display as the dress she wore offered little modesty. After all, her body was her business. Piona wandered through the resting corridors where the men could relax, recover, or prepare. Her presence in the arena was a constant and at the moment it seemed, she was available.

Dralos Varen stepped into the fighters entrance to the Arena, returning after a few days to visit with friends, have a drink and other such things. He was an archer, an Ebony bow strung across his body with a quiver of arrows made of the same material. His eyes were a blood red, and he had black hair that was currently tied into a ponytail. He had on leather armor right now, light enough for his agility needs while firing a bow. He walked down a corridor and spotted Piona in her revealing dress, himself a consistent customer to her services. He smiled, figuring that it would be a good day to start if he fucked her. So, with that in mind, he strode over to the whore. "Piona!"</s>

Her brother was dead...she still couldn't believe it, it felt like someone had ripped out her heart. The worst part of it was that she had even seen his death through his eyes for a moment. Wanda Maximoff shuttered in her seat on the giant shuttle that held so many people. She hadn't been allowed to even get on the same shuttle as her brother's body was on, causing her anger to rise and her hands glowing red slightly. The young woman took a deep breath before getting up to her feet and quickly moving away from the other people, trying to hide herself away from the others on the plane. It took nearly nineteen hours to get back to the states, drop off civilians, and get everyone else to the new Avengers base. In that time Wanda had not even taken a nap despite how tired she was. As they made it into the building, there was Nick Fury waiting for them. "Natasha, we have a bit of a problem," he said as he looked between the two women. "We are going to need you to room with Miss Maximoff for a bit since her room is still being built." He wasn't sure how Natasha would feel about the idea after Wanda had messed with her head, but she was the only other female here.

After all the craziness of the last few days, from being brain-fucked, to the Hulk rampage, and then getting to deal with an insane evil robot... this was perhaps not how Natasha wanted to cap off her day. She glanced idly at the younger woman standing beside her, trying to hide her deep bitterness and annoyance behind her usually indifferent expression. Of all the people to get stuck with... But she couldn't complain. Didn't have the energy after all that had transpired. "Fine," Natasha finally admitted. The busty redhead moved to stand upright and brushed some lingering bits of dust and debris from her tight black suit. Having to share space with this girl... even if she was cute, there was a lot of annoyance simmering under the surface. "It's only temporary anyway," Natasha said, before making her way off to the living quarters. She could put up with this... or even find a way to enjoy it.</s>

Ellie had hoped for some semblance of relief when she reached San Francisco. She hoped she could move through the city quietly, peacefully, and quickly. But no. Another city, another abandoned Quarantine Zone, another gang of assholes. The young woman vaulted into the nearby window, bullets flying over her head, she had to act fast. She pulled out her 9mm and turned to face the Hunters as they chased after her. She pulled the trigger, watching his head pop like a melon, before executing his buddy in the same fashion. More were coming, though. Her finger pressed tightly on the trigger again...and 'click'. "Oh shit." Empty. Her last rounds gone. Had she been smarter, she would have kept track of her ammo and avoided this mess. It was too late now. She had to run. These assholes had her partner, and there was no way she'd get her back without gunning them down. To buy herself precious time, she lit the rag of a Molotov cocktail and threw it, covering the entrance in flames before sprinting out of there, down a dimly lit hallway. Scavenging whatever she could find on the way to safety, she escaped from the Hunters' sight, finding a room well out of their patrol routes to rest. Closing the door quietly, she walked slowly to the window, staring out longingly with a desperate glare. "Emma..." Her fingers traced over the glass and she let out a defeated sigh. "Where are you?" Ellie fell back onto a soft and comfortable bed, letting her eyes flutter shut, clutching the switchblade in her hand before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Curtis smirked to himself, watching the teenager enter the nearby abandoned building. He had been watching her for a few hours, ever since he captured another pretty girl. This one seemed a lot duller in her beauty, yet her fiery attitude attracted him to her for some reason. Knowing he needed this girl for his collection, he waited for exactly twelve minutes before entering the building, convinced that she was still inside and now relaxed. What he found was an extremely relaxed girl, so relaxed indeed that she was asleep. Smiling at the switchblade, he slowly slipped it from her grasp, as anyone asleep could not properly hold a weapon. Sliding it in his pocket, Curtis pulled out a plastic bag and slipped it over the girl's head, suffocating her. Sitting on her body, his weight was enough to prevent her moving, his knees on her shoulders pinning her down. When she eventually passed out from lack of air, Ellie was taken from this building into Curtis' own home. Wrists tied behind her back, the unconscious Ellie would remain that way for another hour. When she eventually awoke, she would find two strange things. The first was an aching ass hole, which was also strangely wet. The second was her friend, Emma Watson, naked and on her stomach. She also had her hands behind her back, and with a face full of semen. Both girls were naked and alone, tied up in a cell with no way to escape.</s>

Hanna Orimura sat on the train, which would take her to the IS Academy. Not her choice - her annoying cousin had forced her to go after not even a word from her since she was five years old. Now, however, she found some interest in attending the school, despite being half-asleep and dropping her violin and backpack to the floor upon arrival. It wasn't long before the school came into sight. All half-asleep, she picked up her things and stepped off the train, trying not to attract too much attention as she hated anyone staring at her. Meanwhile, back at the academy, Laura woke up rubbing her right eye. "What time is it?" She asked, as it was hard to see much through his thick heavy curtains.

Michael slowly opened his eyes to see Laura. Like her, he was naked, his muscular and toned body visible through the dark. He had crewcut brown hair and brown eyes. He yawned as he wrapped an arm around Laura's waist and pulled her into his firm chest. "Who cares...we are here with each other, that's all that matters," he whispered in her ear before giving her a playful grin. "You were amazing last night..." His hand moved to squeeze one of her breasts under the covers as he gave her a playful kiss on the lips.</s>

It was a warm day, as always in Alola, and Sun wasn't wasting any of it. He was outside near the ocean in a secluded area, away from all the village and city noise. He smiled as he threw out a pokeball, releasing his Primarina. "Hey girl, ready for another day of training?" he asked as he petted her head. Sun absolutely adored his Primarina and worked relentlessly to train her to be the best. He looked up as winguls flew by, and the ocean breeze hit his face. "Today is going to be very promising," he said with a smile. He put a bracelet on her wrist. "Today we'll be increasing your special attack, Primarina. So get ready." He adjusted his cap.

Primarina came out of her poke ball stretching happy to be out of it. She purred when he pet her head and nudged him affectionately Ring~ she let him put the bracelet on and got ready for her training.</s>

Hawaii was quite a shocking shift for someone who had spent his whole life in Tokyo. The incredible heat, the vibrant sunshine, the sea of accents that flew between the different people on the heated streets... it was definitely a shift from the uniformity of Japan's urban environment. That said, Ryuji was still finding the school vacation to be a little on the dull side. He didn't quite know why, but it felt to him as if not much had actually happened since they arrived here. The fit blond had been hoping, ideally, to hook up with some fine American girl. But his English was so poor that he didn't want to make the attempt. He couldn't even rely on Akira to be a wingman since he was apparently dating someone these days (Though who that was remained a mystery to the group). He had been teasing Ann about something as of late, so maybe that was it? Whatever the case, he was currently walking the golden sands at a lazy pace, looking out at the sea. Curfew would hit soon, and then he'd have to duck into the hotel again. The thought made the strongly-built boy grunt in annoyance. Their Hawaii trip was almost over, and he'd yet to make any lasting memories. He supposed, ultimately, he'd just have to hit the ground running on Phantom Thief stuff when they got back to Japan.

Just as Ryuji was getting ready to give up hope, it seemed his chance was upon him. A pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist and some sizeable mounds pressed against his bare back, molding against his chest. The hands rubbed at his pectoral muscles as a voice filled his ears. "Hey there, tough guy... what are you doing all by yourself?" the voice was sultry and alluring... it even sounded somewhat familiar. Unfortunately for Ryuji though, it was all in English... which had never been his top subject. As the voice finished, a pair of teeth nibbled and sucked on his earlobe, chuckling lowly. Little did Ryuji know, but the one behind him currently was Ann Takamaki, his childhood friend and fellow Phantom Thief. She had spotted him wandering alone and wanted to tease him... make him think some American bombshell was hitting on him. So long as he didn't turn around or recognize her voice... it would all be fine.</s>

Ruby felt terrible, worse than any of her rougher sparring sessions with Yang, worse than any of the fights she could remember. The young redhead slowly, groggily rose, wincing from what felt like a zillion different bruises. She looked at herself, clothes torn, cut and bloody, had she been in a fight? The huntress froze as she noticed something... Crescent Rose, her scythe, her SCYTHE was nowhere to be seen. She looked around, eyes darting, and all she saw was that she was in some sort of dark cavern, alone and unarmed. "Guys?" she called out into the darkness, voice shaky as she tried to reach the rest of team RWBY. Only her echo answered her, sounding almost sinister with the place's acoustics. Slowly she rose, using the wall to steady her shaky legs. She had been in a battle, that's all she remembered, everything else was a fuzzy haze. She needed to find her sister, find her friends, her weapon, and get out of here... wherever here was.

As Ruby made her way through the labyrinth of tunnels and passageways, the silence would slowly give way to a sound. It sounded human enough, muffled in the distance but as she approached it, it would grow more clear. They were womanly moans and groans, the sound of a female writhing in pleasure and enjoying herself. Ruby would likely even recognize the voice just from the groans as Weiss Schnee's voice, as she was on all fours like a bitch in heat. In a cavern, Weiss was being mounted by a Grimm. Behind her, mounting her and plowing her pussy with a massive and long cock was a Grimm. Weiss' face was contorted in pure pleasure and bliss, her moans echoing through the chamber as the Grim fucked her roughly, its cock slamming into her like a piston.</s>

Dr. Amy Ralts never would have imagined she would ever see this day. The day the infamous freelancer agent Carolina had been captured by the UNSC... well, at least by her branch. Her branch was an odd group capturing humans, aliens, and other species, doing experiments on them. Low and behold they came across the freelancer who had been injured in some sort of battle. Amy didn't care. All she cared about was now she had her. A quick history of Amy. During her youth, she served as a medic for the Insurrectionists, a group Project Freelancer fought long ago. She watched as many of her friends died because of them, most of them by the hands of the person who lay bound naked before her. Amy along with her assistant looked at the unconscious Carolina. Amy's eyes were fueled with rage, anger, a need for revenge in which she would finally get. Of course, she would do it slowly. She wanted to break Carolina both psychically and mentally. She had already given her a new addition to her body while knocked out: a nice thick 10-inch cock and a pair of balls. She just waited for the freelancer to wake up.

Carolina groaned as she awoke in an unfamiliar room, strapped to a bed without armor, and completely naked. Looking down, she gasped in confusion at the sight of a ten-inch cock and a pair of balls to match. "What the fuck?" she cursed out loud, trying to figure out where she was and what had happened. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the details - it was a lab of some kind, very orderly and strict in its design. "Is this some kind of UNSC facility?" She asked herself, not realizing that there was a mad scientist right next to her. How did she miss that? Well, she would soon realize that the mad scientist was there, hopefully.</s>

Michael wasn't sure how he had gotten summoned to such a paradise. He was an average guy, with short brown hair and hazel eyes behind a pair of glasses and slightly tanned skin. He was wearing a open-collared floral dress shirt that revealed his somewhat toned chest and a pair of blue swimming trunks. He was sitting at a bar, drinking a scotch on the rocks. He was surrounded by beautiful girls, all from various different fictional universes. He recognized quite a few of them, but he didn't have the balls or courage to go up to talk to any of them. "Am I the only guy here... what, the hell am I supposed to do?" he muttered to himself, taking a large swig of his drink, hoping the buzz would help calm his nerves and figure out what to do. He wanted to at least talk to some of these beautiful girls but he just wasn't sure how to start or approach one of them.

Taking the seat next to Michael was a brown-haired woman in a red dress. "Bartender, get me a Mojito," she said with a smile. This was Kyu, and she had her eyes set on Michael. She took a sip of her drink, but some spilled onto her breast. Using her finger, Kyu scooped up the liquid and licked it off, then started sucking on her finger. She turned her gaze back to Michael as she pulled her finger out. "Hey there, cutie. The name's Kyu."</s>

Hinata and Sakura had been on a mission that had taken several weeks, they'd had to trek through forests in wind and rain, shiver in the freezing cold, bake in the scorching sun, fight whilst tired and hungry, but finally the mission had been a success. Unfortunately, the journey back, despite the new route they had taken to try and make the journey a little more comfortable, was hardly any better, the weather having gotten even worse in some places. About halfway though, while trekking through yet another forest, the two girls had come across an abandoned hot springs resort. It looked like nobody had been here for at least 10 years, but the structure was still pretty intact, making it potentially a warm and dry place to spend at least one night if not maybe a few, while the springs themselves were natural, meaning the water was still hot and clean-looking. Hinata volunteered to search through the main building, finding at least one room that was intact and to see if she could find some still-intact blankets they could use. She was just as tired as Sakura, her clothes were just as tattered, but Hinata being Hinata, she offered to let Sakura head straight for the springs. "Really, I insist," she bowed her head gently before turning to head back into the building to begin her search, leaving Sakura to finally embrace the first chance they'd had to relax in over a month.

Sakura sighed and briefly glanced around; the pinkette was on the brink of collapse - so much time had been spent traveling that her body was getting worn out. The constant fighting and trekking did nothing to help her clothes which were more patched up than anything at this point. Slowly she slid out of her clothing, letting her athletic body shine and gleam in the mist produced by the hotsprings. Her abs glistened as she lowered herself into the water, eyes closed and relaxation moving through her.</s>

His footsteps were almost silent in the dark corridors; he had to be unseen and unheard, though he felt sure the pounding in his chest would alert people to his presence. The risk of being caught breaking the school rules was exciting, but his real motivation for taking the risk of walking the corridors this late at night was taking her in his arms again. He knew if he was expelled from Hogwarts, he wouldn't see her for a long time, but Lucius had to see Bella in private and now, he burned for her.

Bellatrix made sure that everyone in the girls' dormitory was fast asleep, so as not to be caught sneaking out. After all, nobody would say anything about it if they saw her; they loved, feared, and envied her. Bellatrix seemed to always break rules, but was hardly ever caught. Hurrying through the corridors in her heels, she was as silent as a shadow, so used to walking in them, and sneaking around. Her parents would be furious if they knew their oldest daughter was lurking and moving in secret, in the dead of night, just to meet up with a boy. But he wasn't any boy - he was the most handsome boy in all of Hogwarts, and he was hers, he was her Lucius...Lucius Malfoy. She needed to see him, they didn't see each other enough during the day. Just thinking of him sent her heart soaring, higher than the sun. Her breathing was shaky as she looked for him, heading to their meeting place.</s>

Alex walked down the sidewalk with a spring in his step. He just finished his last final of the semester and was eager to get home and out to the bars. The tall, blue-eyed man shifted his backpack as he looked across the street at the park. Rumors had it that people disappeared from there... It was Gotham City, after all, and that didn't surprise him. He wondered if it was gang-related or if one of those supervillains was behind it. His thoughts turned back to the bars and thinking about picking up a girl tonight. They should be in a celebrating mood too, and he thought he might have some luck tonight.

Poison Ivy The crackling sounds of growing vines as they grew around her neck and wrists, bracing together as her new necklaces and bracelet, the curvy, redhead woman continued to walk down the street during the quietness of the night. Ivy didn't know any better - everything was a joke to her. At this time of moment, she was walking down the dark side of the block, only covered by darkness, hiding herself anywhere the lights were. As she was walking steadily, taking each step in a skillful yet careful manner, her eyes were soon caught by the attention of a man across from her. Her entire body halted and watched the figure from the distance, her eyes lingering and watching him as he walked alone. ALONE. For some reason - just by looking at the sight, she couldn't help but smile. Surprised to see a man - walking in Gotham City...alone...it was very surprising for Ivy, especially when she knew people disappeared around the area; but not her; she was safe from the danger.</s>

Amongst the darkness, sword and lance clashed with dizzying grace, two silhouettes striking at one another in a deadly waltz. The fight had lasted for some time now and to the untrained eye, it seemed that neither combatant was gaining the upper hand. But it was only a matter of time before Avenger would strike his opponent down, for the enemy knew not his identity... his weakness. Even if they did, Achilles was among the strongest from the Age of Heroes, the demi-god that slew the Trojan hero, Hector, in single combat and had brought the ancient city to its knees. Casanova had spent many days stalking their opponent, preparing for this fight. What was more, Casanova had managed to summon an extra class servant, the version of Achilles representing both his strongest and lowest points: Achilles Alter, the hero that had just lost his best friend and vowed to break the Trojans piece by piece. They did not plan to lose. And lose they did not. In a dramatic change of events, Achilles struck his opponent down, a saber-class servant wearing a crimson gown and with golden locks. The blow was non-fatal, but the force at which she plunged into the ground made it clear who the winner would be. But Achilles knew better than to allow the woman to stand, instead falling upon her with boiling rage and conviction. He threw his lance down upon her, missing her face by mere inches before plummeting down atop her. Before she could regain herself, Achilles was above her, his hands catching her neck between metal gauntlets. With hungry eyes the servant gazed into her emerald kaleidoscopes, his fingers tightening their grip until he could hear the sweet melody of gagging underneath him. In just a moment, he could snap the servant's neck like a twig. "Enough, Avenger," Casanova's voice echoed off of the cathedral halls, the young man stepping into the moon's light. Achilles did not listen, instead tightening his grip upon the Saber's throat until she could not breathe completely. "I said, that's enough," he repeated himself, prepared to use a command spell if necessary. Luckily, the servant acquiesced, loosening her grip upon the servant's throat just enough so that she could breathe once more. "Why? She is our enemy." Achilles growled, his strong, yellow gaze still beaming upon the woman beneath him. Casanova migrated over towards the woman in the corner of the room, who watched the scene unfolding before her with shocked eyes. The young man flashed her a warm smile, before reaching out towards her slowly. "Shh. I'm not going to hurt you." He promised her, his hand gravitating towards the side of her face. With tender grace, the man cupped the side of her cheek, rubbing her smooth flesh gently. He was tall, handsome, with dark hair fashionably disheveled and with an attractive, plunging jawline. But above all, his sapphire gemstones were enchantingly mysterious. "Your servant has been defeated. According to the rules of the Holy Grail War, I am obligated to take both of your lives." He explained, his hand traveling down the side of her face and underneath her chin. Carefully, he tipped her chin upwards, forcing her to look up at the man that had defeated her. "But... I will give you another option. One that will not be offered again." The man grinned, pausing momentarily so his words could sink in. "You and your servant will become my property... my servants... my slaves." He cooed quietly, yet clearly, underneath his breath. His terms were non-negotiable and a single time offer. The glare in his sapphire eyes made it clear that should his rival refuse, that the both of them would be killed without mercy. Before she could speak, Casanova placed his finger upon her lips, silencing her. "If you agree to my terms, both you and your servant will fall to your knees and beg for your lives. If you do not, I will kill you both." The man snapped his fingers, waving towards Achilles, who begrudgingly released the servant from his grip. He motioned the servant towards him, waiting for the two to do as they were told... or die. "Beg and live. Or die. It is your choice."

The saber-class servant exuded a haughty confidence that her master could feel soothe her skin and seep into her very bones. Something had been off about this night but the duo had pressed on and remained vigilant in their quest for the Holy Grail. Omnipotent wish granter that it was, the legendary chalice and limitless mana within was sought out by all masters of the Holy Grail War. All that mattered was the wish -- the truth, the Root. So despite her gut advising her otherwise, they had forged on. Neither of them could have been prepared for the onslaught that awaited them inside of that grand, empty cathedral. It was a wonder that the clash of steel had not drawn the attention of others, the darkness that veiled the building acting as if it were a cloak to disguise them all-- perhaps it was. Met with another powerful servant and his equally imposing master, though the girl in question had yet to see much of him, the red-clad swords woman immediately went on the offensive, swinging her blade with a grace worthy of the former Emperor. Sparks flew, evidence of the clash of steel, and for a time Rie believed they might have a chance. While she sometimes believed her brusque servant to be far more flashy than absolutely necessary, the young woman had come to realize that all that flash and pomp was what made Nero, Nero. A woman of Rome, Emperor to the people and a lover of fine arts, beauty, and valor, all the things that made her servant so confident and assuring that the Holy Grail would be theirs. It was these traits and this woman that Rie placed her trust in. Saber's bright smile fell after so many blows. Crimson turned black and those bright green eyes narrowed dangerously as the lance-wielding servant before her countered blows and laid into her with a strength and severity she'd not quite seen before. In the far corner of the room Rie could do little more than watch as this dark, intimidating force decimated her partner. "Come on, Saber." The whisper like a mantra, a silent good luck charm. They could win, they just needed to gain a hint of an upper hand. They could win... But it was not their fate. "Saber!" The trusty sword in which Nero used clattered on the ground next to her. The breath left her lungs after the blonde saber struggled against the might of her opponent. Rie's eyes widened and blinked rapidly, mind reeling from the fast turn of events that had occurred. The opposing master made his presence known and called off his servant from dealing the final blow. Try as saber might, with the grip he had on her now, she was in no shape to retaliate or protect her master. With a deep inhale once her windpipe was released, the saber gasped and swallowed, the bruise already making itself known in the form of a fingertip necklace around her throat. "Praetor--" Rie couldn't -- didn't -- trust that smile. It was a predator's smile and all it did was make her blood run cold with fear. His fingers brushed her skin and she couldn't help but flinch at the contact, giving him the satisfaction that he had caught her, not that she was sure he needed much more proof. Oh, but how wrong she was. His sweet words and gentle caress did little to dissuade her from the thought that they'd both be killed. He could claim a notch on his belt and count one less in the running for the Grail, dispose of the both of them with little effort and note a care. Gray eyes flickered over his shoulder to where the male servant with piercing gold eyes had her saber pinned beneath him. Soon she was guided to look at him and Rie swallowed, limbs shaking despite her best efforts to stand strong and show that she was just as powerful a mage with no fear. What could he possibly offer to her? Surely he didn't mean to play a game with her, taunt her with the hope of freedom only to drive a knife into her back. Oh no, it was far worse, even. "Wh--" she'd barely formed the words on her lips before he silenced her, both eyes and finger effectively keeping her shut up. "Praetor, no!" Nero croaked, still beneath the Avenger. Rie had little time to think. Nero joined her side moments later, and the dark haired girl knew what she needed to do. Her saber could see it too, the blonde's angry features looking so foreign on that usually smiling face. "Praetor, you cannot--" "Just-- ...just.. do it, Saber." Was she so cowardly? Did she fear death so much that she would so quickly give up her family's dream of the Holy Grail-- so that she could live as a slave to a mage? Had she really fallen so far...? With little else to say and legs crumbling beneath her-- whether due to the shock, fear, and anger or acceptance of her situation-- the young magus fell, palms flat against the floor and head hung low, dark locks obscuring her vision. Moments later at the behest, and with little more option lest she sign her masters death warrant as she stood, Nero fell into position beside her. Please spare us our lives and in return we accept your terms..</s>

Greece is such a petty place to be, especially at sunset. Lena Oxton is at the grounds of some ruins, climbing up on one of the pillars as she tries to get a good look at the rest of the area. "Hm...I can't see anything so far." She moves to the rooftops of the ruins, doing it as stealthily as possible. She stops as she finds something - a gathering of a group that are moving equipment into a carrier. "Yep, Talon is here alright," she says through her earpiece. "They're moving stuff for transport..." Tracer sighs as she moves back just a little, waiting for her orders.

Watching her from afar, Widowmaker could only sigh in annoyance. "I swear you are the worst at stealth, my petite rump roast," he muttered in French, as she was visible at sunset in a yellow jumpsuit. He'd take aim from afar and switch his ammo for dummy rounds in his silenced sniper rifle. The first shot would whiz past her ear to feel like a flick and knock her earpiece off her head. The second shot would strike her left supple butt cheek as he grappling hooked to another position, then purposely shot the right cheek as well from afar with a smirk. She needed to learn that she wasn't subtle, and this was his favorite game to play with Tracer.</s>

A myriad of colorful lights flashed and spun, creating a rainbow of strobe effects across the stage. Their rapidly changing glows illuminated the band of seasoned musicians on the stage, revealing one healthy man in black with a 4-string electric bass suspended from both of his shoulders, and several beautifully dressed women carrying well-tuned instruments of their own. The sounds of two guitars hammering out speedy high-pitched solos, a bass scaling up and down the frets, a slide on a piano, and the rattling of many drums and symbols blared out for several seconds before every player hit one last synchronized note, earning them a roaring wave of screams and applause from the thousands of music-loving fans who stood surrounding the stage. Leon pumped his fist and shouted back in celebration to the energetic crowd. To his right, lead guitarist Elena grinned brightly, took hold of the upper neck of her guitar in hand and side of her luxurious red gown's skirts in the other and curtsied. Belle, also keeping a hand on her guitar, waved and smiled to the cheering fans. Cinderella stepped to the side of her keyboard to curtsy, while behind them, Princess Anna stood up from her padded drum throne so observers could more easily see her twirling the drum sticks with her nimble fingers. Over on stage left, Tiana, equipped with a saxophone, waved her gloved hands upwards several times to encourage the audience to keep the applause coming. They all basked in the collective joy for nearly a full minute as they were reminded of the true joy that came with entertaining people and giving them a fun night to remember for the years to come. Once the audience noise had waned, Leon leaned up to his microphone and appreciated, "Thank you all so much for coming out here tonight!" He then introduced, "I would now like to invite a very special guest to the stage. I met her just a few short months ago watching her amazing lounge show and was blown away by her remarkable voice. Before I knew it I was recruited to play in her backing band, so it seemed only right that I return that invitation. She wants to sing a wonderful song for all of you tonight, so please welcome the lovely and talented Miss Jessica Rabbit!"

As Leon announced her name, the stunning redhead made her way to the center stage, which was rapidly filling with fog to give the area a surreal quality. Sequined silk hugged her ample curves as she stepped into the spotlight, microphone in gloved hand. Her full, ruby lips curved into a smile as she took center stage, soft guitar and keyboard backing her walk toward the audience. A sultry voice filled the room as she began the song she felt would go make the most sense for her to sing. Her high heels clicked and her thighs were exposed as she walked, but the sexy siren stayed calm asher clear voice rang out over the crowd. "Take me now, baby, here as I am. Pull me close, try and understand. Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe. Love is a banquet on which we feed." She walked past Cinderella with a wink and headed toward Leon, hand out, as if reaching out to him. "Come on now, try to understand the way I feel when I'm in your hands." The redhead turned away from the handsome front man and as she reached out to the crowd, bending at the knee to grab the hands of some of the closer fans. "Take my hand and come undercover." Her voice rang out and she stood up once more, turning toward Tiana and Leon. She stood between them as she sang, "They can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now." She looked at Leon as if to cue him in to join her. "Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to lust." She ran her hand down her side to emphasize her curves here before finding her way to an open microphone stand and inserting it into the stand so she could be stationary for a moment. "Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to us."</s>

When you design a humanoid robot for combat, there are certain eccentricities and lapses that can be forgiven. By all accounts YoRHa Model 2 (Type B) was a robust platform, and given her efficacy in dispatching Biodroid occupation and reclaiming earth thus far it was easy to overlook some of the stranger notions of her design. Rather than a sleek mechanical chassis of a full android, 2B's body was that of a gynoid, indistinguishable from that of a human female right up until she cut through four inches of reinforced concrete without a windup. The faithfulness to human form even went down to minor details such as genitalia and pain/pleasure receptors across her skin along with the essentials such as sight, hearing, pressure, damage, and a custom built combat sensor package that enhanced every one of those beyond human ability. It was broadly considered 'creepy' that 2B was capable by design of having sex, but no one questioned it, because regardless of that rumour, when it came down to it, 2B was just that good at what she was meant to do. Cyberwarfare was also something to be considered, and while the Biodroid occupation didn't bother with EMS or any sort of automated hacking, it had been considered prudent to ensure that 2B's core systems were secured, backed up, and installed with numerous safety measures to ensure that her core functionality could not be tampered with. Combat routines, motor control, everything she would need to fight and win was kept safe, while less essential systems were left external. Skin receptors beyond pressure and heat for instance were only lightly secured, as were other subroutines deemed 'nonessential'. These systems were automatically shut down in combat anyways to streamline the action-reaction loops that governed basic battle programming since their input was broadly considered unimportant. What good was having 2B feel pain when she was damaged after all? Pain was a distraction in combat, while a simple readout and robust internal monitoring system would do a much better job of ensuring that information of what was damaged and what was not. So leaving these minor systems outside the purview of major security could be considered forgivable too, here, an error was made. Rather than bundling the switches for these systems behind firewalls with the important capacities, the modular nature of the basic programming modules meant that each subroutine was bundled with its own executables. Had the Biodroids ever been smart enough to attempt an actual hack, they could have perhaps distracted 2B at a critical moment. But where alien ingenuity fell flat, human ingenuity could step in to take its place. A hacker collective, a bunch of thugs for the most part, but a dangerous bunch who had been disrupting operations across the more recently liberated cities. While they were a small threat now, projections suggested that left unchecked these criminals could end up as a dangerously powerful organized crime group, so the decision was made that they would not be given the chance to consolidate, and 2B was deployed to subdue and capture the ringleaders. It never occurred to them for a moment that the android that had laid waste to the Biodroid occupation could ever be brought low by a bunch of human thugs, and in that lay their fatal flaw, but even if they had somehow realized, understood the risk they took, it was too late now. They had tracked the group to their hideout and 2B had been sent in as soon as they had confirmed the location. She was already on site, moving through the hallways, scanning for signs of life as she tried to seek out the leaders of the organization she knew were somewhere in here. Already with both feet in the jaws of a potential trap...

The collective had first made itself known to the public as an organization named 'Cicada 211'. The name was seemingly meaningless and the lack of seemingly pointed symbolism kept the general public guessing or even wholly oblivious to their existence, while the more 'minor' deep-web entrepreneurs were left only to wonder and imagine just what the group could be. They seemed to protest the 'Big Brother' government that had formed in the name of retaking the cities of Earth and spoke of how the 'common citizen' needed to rise up and secure their rights to independence and autonomy. And if it had stayed at that, then maybe they could have been ignored, and the remnants of humanity wouldn't have worried about them - but then money started disappearing. Equipment. Manifests were manipulated so gear bound for vital military posts ended up 'lost' in transit. It became quickly apparent that there was something that needed to be done about them. Some of the finest minds in cyberwarfare and counterintelligence who called the Bunker home were put to work on tracking this mysterious hacktivist collective. Of course they were surprised and almost unbelieving when that trail led them down to Earth, and further to within the liberated zone that had already been cleared and secured by their forces. It led them to a hydro-electrical plant that hadn't seen any activity of any sort ever since it had been cleared of Biodroids months and months past, except now it was pulsing with wireless signals up to and down from the moon. Satellite imagery was even quick to reveal at least a few humanoids spotted occasionally out on the surface or along the damn wall of the plant. Further analysis and recon before sending in 2B revealed they seemed to have nothing for defense from intruders as if they wholly expected nobody would come looking for them. Maybe they didn't? "And they sent one, did they Colonel?" The young man holding the phone grinned at the hesitant response. "Oh don't worry. Nobody will know about your involvement - if you behave," he said with a smile. The aging old military officer on the other end all but snarled his response, despite the awareness of just what kind of incriminating information the collective held on him. It had been through him that the collective had found out about the - unique - nature of the YoRHa Model 2s and that rather glaring weakness. He was the one who had pulled strings upon request to see one of these deadly warriors sent, alone, to deal with the collective once they had been discovered. And the man at their head who identified himself among his peers by his handle of 'Red Jack' couldn't help the grin that was stuck to his lips as he leaned back in his seat. Cameras had seen her, and as she skulked lower and lower into the plant, she was monitored by cameras and EM sensors so that some of his best keyboard-jockeys could keep an exact point on wherever she might be. All while working to uncover those executable files and see just what they might do with them. And Red Jack was gambling rather hard on them finding a way to make what he had suggested work. After all, he wasn't making any effort to hide should she finally find the main pump room. He sat in the center of the room facing the door that came down from the surface, illuminated by several glaring overhead lights, sitting on the edge of a rather hard looking surgical table, and grinning like a cheshire cat as he heard quiet footfalls coming closer even though it was hidden behind the scarlet-red metal mask that he currently wore over his face. As the door would come open, he'd throw his arms open wide as if in a gesture to say 'welcome to my humble abode' and gave a laugh. "Hello, hello! Come in, please!" He laughed again. In his earpiece, he heard a voice. "Jack. I think we found it." "Good," he whispered, "Lock her receptors on."</s>

Chaldea. When the world needed it most, it was there for them. Mostly through thick and thin, the world was saved via a number of magi and servants, all traveling through time via singularities and correcting that which had been set wrong by an enemy most sinister. With said enemy being defeated and time reverting to normal, the magic organization was something of a mess. With the death of its leader and the betrayal from within, as well as the loss of a critical member, The organization was in shambles. But, it was not utterly ruined. Magi did their best to keep the organization flowing smoothly, and with the state of humanity fixed, a few were taking a well-deserved break from the hell that was conflict after conflict with monsters, demons, and servants. This is the story of two of them. Umu! Wake up, Master! Shouted a familiar voice. This is not a good time to be sleeping. You might have saved the world but you've still got some nerve in trying to shirk your duties with me! The woman was a petite one, though robust when one looked at her. Dressed in a small red dress that fit her sumptuously, her blonde hair was braided back with an equally crimson ribbon, and her green eyes shone like emeralds. You promised we would do something fun as well. I didn't know I had such a boring master if this was his idea of entertainment! Rather than a mocking or derisive tone, Nero held a more playful and almost giddy one. To no longer be on the front lines, and to have the chance to get doted on felt like a luxury to the empress in that specific moment. I've also seen the other mages and servants. Quite a few of them seem to be interested in all the chaos, but... With her hands behind her back, she leaned in, her somewhat plunging top revealing even more of her flawless, fair skin and ample cleavage as she winked. But I think we can ignore that all for now, don't you?

Michael Smith was awoken by a rather familiar sound, the sound of his lovely Servant and her angelic voice. He had wanted to sleep in today because of how crazy the past few days had been; even with things resolved, it was still chaotic. The one thing that kept him sane was the presence of his servant, Nero. His hazel eyes slowly opened, running a hand through his short, crew cut brown hair. Like all Magi, he was fit because physical fitness helped magical fitness. "Oh, Nero. Good morning," Michael grinned slightly as he yawned and sat up on his bed, his eyes locking onto her emerald ones. He licked his lips slightly as he heard Nero's teasing tone and her playful smile. He understood what her words and tone meant. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down to the bed so he was laying back down and she was hovering above him, his smile widening. "I think we can...but what fun thing would you like to do, my Empress?" He asked her with his own teasing tone of voice, his nose coming up to gently press against hers, his strong hand slithering down her lithe back, hovering over her bubbly ass and giving it a playful spank, his digits digging into her flesh as he waited to see how she would react.</s>

"The Red Potion" Bar; Hours into the night... Starlight Island was a very special place. A huge isle located across the multiversal ocean, where people from across multiple worlds, make the journey for relaxation, work, adventure and a good time. Sunny beaches, tons of different entreatment venues, and vast lush forests for the nature-types. But right now, our story begins at a small but cozy bar known as The Red Potion. At this hour it seemed that there were just a handful of people inside, all immersed in their own lives. Amongst them was a particular young-looking angel currently sitting by the barstand.... This was Pit, who right now simply sighed as the Bartender, a Toad, handed him another drink. He had barely finished the first one and he could already feel himself tipsy. Pit had traveled to the island with his boss and goddess, Lady Palutena, for some well-earned R&R. Pit thought maybe, just maybe, time here could be the chance where he could finally spend more time with her; Tell her more about his feelings... But he chickened out and soon enough, Palutena assumed Pit wanted his space; which wasn't far from the truth, but was not helping him after she met with some old acquaintances. Pit just felt lonely in general, specially with the fairer sex. Despite his angelic looks, he was still a young man with needs and wants...but of course it wasn't like if luck was going to smile his way...

But luck seemed to smile as one woman came to sit next to the lonely angel. This was the love fairy Kyu, though right now she didn't look like a fairy using her human disguise. "Bartender, get me a Mojito," she said, and within moments the Toad gave her drink. Kyu's eyes drifted towards Pit's direction. He was her next person she wanted to help out in the love department. "Hey there cutie." She called to Pit, giving him a moment to reply. She then took the slice of lime on her glass and sucked on it for a moment before placing it back on her glass. "My name is Kyu. Mind if I ask for your name, Angel?" She asked as the string strap of her red dress fell off her shoulder.</s>

Lethe groaned as she slowly came to - black spots danced before her eyes, resolving themselves into greater shapes as her mind desperately tried to unscramble itself. Unfortunately for her, all she could see was blackness still but for faint creases in it - almost like stonework. Lethe twisted her head away from the ground she'd been staring at, trying to bring her arms around to push herself up but... it was to no avail - her shoulders burned and her arms were asleep, a sure sign of being bound roughly by the wrists and forearms. As her arms burned to life in a series of unpleasant pinpricks, Lethe rolled herself forcefully onto her back, arms whinging in pain when she did so. She could feel her legs were bound at the ankles as well, though that didn't inconvenience her much as she rolled onto her bottom, tail flicking out of the way so that she didn't sit on the end of it. With that done, she slowly inched her way backward until she pressed her back against the wall. "Ugh... Lethe... Lethe, is that you?" came an all-too-familiar voice. Lyre was the younger of the two twins, and accordingly looked entirely like Lethe, but for longer hair and a preference for red over her sister's green. "Yeah, it's me. Hold on one moment and I'll get us out of this," Lethe said, closing her eyes as she flexed every muscle in her body, willing herself to transform. Electricity suddenly ran throughout every vein and along every nerve of her body, elicting a high cry from the young laguz. "Agh!" "Lethe! What's wrong?" Lyre asked, trying to rotate herself on the floor so she could see her sister. "Can't... transform," Lethe managed through ragged breathing. There was a choker - a collar, rather -'round her neck from which every bolt of electricity ran - she couldn't see it, of course, but she could feel it there, constricting. "What happened?" Lyre asked, her voice growing quiet. "I... don't know. But if I had to guess by this cell and whatever they did," Lethe said with a derisive note, "I think we've been captured by beorcs."

The laguz siblings would have a little more time to regain themselves and make heads or tails of their surroundings, though they'd soon hear footsteps coming from the other side of the walls. It was dim in that cell they were held in, though that probably wasn't too much of a problem for the laguz. As the large doors in front swung open, the bright light of torches slipped in, and a small group of men came to step in front of the sisters. As Lethe had deduced, their captors were beorc, another word for humans. Beorc and laguz had for many years held some bit of tension and prejudice between each other, and it wasn't uncommon for skirmishes to rise up. There were some less than pleasant practices each side would take part in, and with high-ranking laguz like Lethe and Lyre, they might have been in for a rude awakening. "Looks like our little kittens are awake finally. Took them long enough," said one of the five men, who then moved towards Lethe with the other two heading off to Lyre. The men didn't have to worry about these two lashing out and causing them harm, thanks to the collars they had fixed around their necks. It would be too troublesome to have these two transform, and in their human forms, they wouldn't be able to get them off by trying to tug it off. "These special collars look quite nice on both of you. We had them specially made to make sure you wouldn't be getting all nasty on us though. You two are rather lovely for sub-humans, so it would be a waste to harm you." The men loosened the girls' chains a bit, undoing the ankle restraints but keeping the restraints on their arms as both girls were brought up to stand on their knees. "Now it's pretty simple why you're here. As our prisoners, we really can do anything with you that we please." One man lifted Lethe's chin up to make her look up at him. "Hmm...I wonder what the soldiers under you would think knowing you got caught by us? Oh well, we'll be sure to have a lot of fun with you both. No need for your sister to be left out." His free hand came to cup one of Lethe's breasts in his hand, giving it a firm squeeze as he continued to grope her. "Heheh, when you aren't looking like those beasts, you've got bodies just like us. The men looked to be nothing more than lowly bandits, but in a little skirmish with the group of mercenaries, they had set a trap to snatch any laguz really, and they were lucky to snatch these two right here. There was no way they'd ever let these two get away with what they had planned. "Might as well forget about your commander. Doubt he'd be able to please you like we're going to right now." On the other side, one man had come up behind Lyre, groping at both of her breasts while the other worked to remove her clothes, forcefully if need be. They were aiming to rip through them as they didn't think their new pets would be needing them anymore.</s>

Time is a picture in motion through eternity. The thought drifted through his mind as he finished the last few runic lines of the summoning circle. Rising as he dusted off his pants, there was a brief moment of hesitation, he hadn't summoned her yet, so he had every chance to back out if he so desired, right? And yet... He'd come this far, he'd sacrificed so much just to get here. If he were to back out now, all of that would be for nothing - and there was still the chance he'd be a victim of the war anyway. He knew this was likely to be a vicious one, the other magi in the war were not likely to go easy on any who got in their way, and while he hoped to keep casualties to a minimum, there was still the fact that a few probably wouldn't stop participating in the war until they took their final breath. Thankfully, he was prepared for that. The crimson summoning circle that he had drawn and painted over the floor of the room seemed to shine briefly as he stepped over it, carrying an old and faded tome in his hands kneeling down once more to set the Japanese manuscript in the center. The catalyst for the summoning was one of the most important things, and he had picked a very antiquated catalyst. If he was right - he should be able to guess and ascertain the identity of his servant almost immediately, but even with a strong catalyst there was no telling what he could truly get. Looking it over one last time with amber eyes, he exhaled faintly, the chill in the night air causing his breath to become visible as he shivered for just a moment from both the cold and the anticipation of what was to happen. Clasping his hands together, he felt his magical circuits starting to come to life, energy flowing through them before his hands slowly began to extend outwards, seeking to focus that energy as his lips started to part, and he spoke the ritual, his words soft at first, but slowly growing in power as he started to feel the connection grow between this world and another, a more intangible place, but one teeming with power... Iron is the foundation, and fire is the catalyst. O hero of old, lost to time and judged by history, heed my call. From ages past to a new dawn, I call you from your eternal rest and bind your fate with mine. Come forth! I summon you with the aid of the Grail, I summon you as my sword and saber in this war, O ancient hero. Heed this call and come forth, accept this offered sacrifice and arise into the world of men once more! Every word drew more power from him, he felt the mana in his circuits being pulled out, drawn and used as the connection for the summoning. Before long, every word he spoke carried a wave of pain and shock through him as it drew on his ambient reserves, draining them to the very limit as the connection between the throne of heroes and the living world was formed, and something pulled from it, into this world. If everything went well, the pain, the effort to acquire the catalyst, everything would be worth it! As he continued to chant, the room began to glow with ephemeral motes of magical energy, the dancing sapphire lights slowly coalescing in the center of the summoning circle as they pooled and gathered... Only to eventually explode outward in a blinding and dazzling display as the young man quickly covered his eyes with one of his arms, the ritual completing with a more explosive climax.

When the sapphire lights finally diminished at the center of the circle stood a woman, her hair the shade of cherry blossoms. Her eyes were a deep shade of blue, to compare them to the sapphire light from earlier wouldn't have been far off either. Her pink hair was drawn back into a bun, a hair piece that looked like a black and red fan held it place. Her slender, yet powerful arms were covered in black gloves with the fingers exposed. She wore black kneesocks, with geta sandals on her feet. Her milky white thighs were exposed. She was wearing a beautiful blue kimono that only stretched as far as the upper part of her thighs, dangerously close to exposing her most intimate areas. Her Kimono was held in place by strings tied to a black collar around her neck. A red cloth wrapped around her waist, holding the kimono in place. Two sheathes were tied to her hips as well. Her eyes looked over at the man who had summoned her. Her eyes regarded him, was this the voice she heard as she was pulled through the ether? She remembered traveling, many wars, many fights, she had so many that she forgot them, or perhaps that was an effect of the grail's power. "My name is Miyamoto Musashi," he said, "are you my master?" He asked curiously, though there seemed to be a feeling, a connection between the two. Still, he preferred her to answer, just so he knew who she was in all of this.</s>

The specimen was tucked away behind a glass tube that went from the floor to the ceiling. All sorts of equipment were scattered about the lab. Some of the tools were reading the specimen's vital signs and others were charging up to begin the next set of tests. The specimen in question was found drifting through space. It was somewhat of a mystery as to why it was floating through space, but even more so why it was drifting unconscious and half frozen. It was made mostly of a slime material, but its organs were clear to see in parts of its body. Even as it floated in the glass tube, its organs were beating to a rhythm, but ever so slightly. The next mystery began as to why it had similar DNA to another species completely different in appearance. For easier classification, the specimen was nicknamed "Slime Metroid". The earlier tests showed that the Slime Metroid needed a constant flow of energy. A flow of energy was scheduled for the tube every half hour, but the burst of electrical energy did very little to sustain the creature. It was slowly dying and a reason to the cause could not be found. Junohad been assigned to the space colony specifically to do research on the creature. She had been assigned since the very beginning and was one of the chief scientists assigned to the ship. Even though the colony was a civilian craft, it was temporarily under military orders. Upon the nearest military outpost, it would relieve control of the creature and any research over. Juno was there to make sure that happened and do what research she could. The equipment wasn't military grade, but she and her team was able to put something together. The other more complicated tests would have to wait until she was in a military lab. Juno was the only one in the lab. She had dismissed the rest of her team earlier to get some rest. They were still days away from the military outpost, but there were still tests to perform. Specifically, how to transport the thing without incurring any injuries. A timer beeped on one of the consoles near the glass tube. It was time for the energy surge. Juno pressed a couple buttons on the terminal and the process began. The Slime Metroid was electrocuted, but it seemed to be in pain. Perhaps it wasn't getting what it needed at such a low voltage. In tired state, she failed to forget that a higher voltage would also damage the glass tube. When she turned the machine up higher, it caused a power surge in the lab. When the emergency lights turned on, it would show that several cracks had formed along the tube.

The heavy organ that formed its head flickered, then two points of light glowed like eyes in its head. It pressed against the glass, seeping through the cracks before hardening and shattering the tube. The being spilled out, wobbling about slightly as it stood, before lunging and pinning down Juno, hissing at the woman.</s>

Winter's tan ears lay back against her head at the sudden chop of an ax striking the wood block, and the wet sound of a head rolling away from the chopping block. She wasn't sure who the storm cloaks were, but they evidently managed to piss off the Imperials ... something she was quite happy to see at this point to be honest. Particularly due to her own fate, while it kept her off the chopping block, her situation was not too much better. She was caught crossing the border about two days ago and brought to this camp. The imperials had planted some skooma in her gear and gone on a long rant about the punishment for smuggling. They ignored her denials and offered the Khajiit woman a choice. Execution or aiding the garrison situated here in some way. She rathered liked her dark striped head and brown mane to remain attached to her body so she agreed with the latter of course not quite knowing what they meant by assisting. Turns out her assistance was being stripped down to just her tan fur, placed in stocks with her tail pulled up and bound to her back, with her ass and pussy on display and for the use of any men in the fort who wanted a go with a exotic female on their break. Some damn moral booster it seemed. One that a number of them had seemed happy to try out. Her amber eyes closed hearing more cursing from the prisoners and a wince as one tried to run and was shot down. She shifted a little on her paws bound as well and spread wide attached to the base of the stocks. Her cream colored and coco striped fur was already matted around her thighs and ass from her job as entertainment , but at least they were a little distracted now and the stocks were in the courtyard of the keep and kept out of sight of the rest of the town.

Rumors had been flying all around the keep and Skyrim itself , Dragons had returned more powerful than ever before but even more worrying was that the rumor said that the dragons were taking female prisoners, they would not be found for about a month and suddenly would return home with a swelling belly. Of course the guards ignored these rumors. Though beastly roars could be heard all around the keep and many Guards were starting to become very fearful. They were trying to rush it so Ulfric Stormcloak could be killed but since the men had their moral boosting female. The execution went slowly. One of the guard captain came up behind Winter and said "Oh you certainly are an exotic female, I'm going to love pounding that pussy of yours," he began to rub her pussy roughly, all he cared about was his own pleasure.</s>

The cries of numerous soldiers still rang in her ears as the terrifying form made its way to her. Even with the preparations they had made, the fall of Hyrule Castle seemed inevitable. Even though Princess Zelda had chosen to stand as the last defense with numerous guards, even she was growing worried for the kingdom's future. Ganon himself had come and laid waste to the last lines of defense, though rather than killing the princess, he had her taken away. At first, the young princess had imagined she would be tossed in the dungeons to be tortured and made to reveal kingdom secrets. However, upon arriving in the dark castle that Ganon took residence in, she was led right past the dungeons being led up flight after flight of stairs until she was brought in front of the door to Ganon's personal quarters. She felt her heart sink, as she felt a different sort of torture would be in store for her here. She was forced inside, and made to wait until Ganon would return. There was a lone window in the room, but even if she thought to jump, it was much too high for her to survive the fall. Any thoughts of trying to get out through the door would be tossed aside with the guards. No doubt they would be sticking around until they weren't needed anymore. What a pain. At the very least, they hadn't been too rough in bringing her over, even if she put up a struggle. Her clothes had not been ruined, aside from a few wrinkles now from how she had been handled. Whatever Ganon had in mind for her though, she did not wish to have a part in it. It was her kingdom and her people before anything else after all. If it cost Zelda her life, she'd make sure Ganon would not get what he wanted from her.

The door opened gently, but it felt as though force had impacted against it; so sudden and yet it made no noise, only giving her a hint of his presence. Tall and dark, the evil man who brought chaos and disorder to her kingdom and their world, stood in the doorway. His armor and stature were entirely solid like stone. His red hair was nearly sun-stained blood. His dark skin was smooth with his cape. His eyes were as poisonous as his tongue. He simply stood there as Zelda acknowledged him this time. "My fair lady," he bowed only slightly as he stared at her with those seemingly hungry eyes and that wicked grin that might have stripped her clothing entirely.</s>

She said yes. The giddiness that filled the king upon hearing those words peaked, and he felt almost like a child in his joy, if even for a moment. The emotion could have not been any more raw, at least until she continued, explaining her current condition to him. "A child, really?" he asked her, barely above a whisper, shock replacing a huge grin. Of course, Thranduil had hoped beyond hope for another child since they had lain together, but the verility of his lover could not help but give him pause. "That's... that's great news!" he finally finished after a moment, stepping in close to reach out for her hands. His new excitement sent shocks through his fingertips as he covered her hands in his, and he smiled back at her knowingly while she spoke of her friend and his needs. He nodded when she finished, thoughtful, yet slow to speak. "I know not how to help someone with such a hole in his heart, but if it will make my Queen happy, there is nothing I would not do. Just speak for his needs, and they will be as law," he said supportively, before gripping her hand, and pulling her towards himself for a kiss. "Now is not a time for such concerns, though. We have much to celebrate first, then you can be a Queen tomorrow." HollowSoul She allowed him to pull her towards himself and she looked up into his eyes before she bit her bottom lip. She kissed him back once more when he kissed her but she didn't feel too comfortable at the moment. "Thranduil, we have not won the war though. My Uncle's supporter Orcs are still out there and I have a daemon that I have to worry about." she said and rested her head against his chest. "Malerk may be dead but....its all far from over." she said and looked away as she stared down at the floor as tears came to her eyes but she wiped them away. "I can not fully celebrate until all the Orcs, the daemon are wiped out." she whispered as she touched her stomach tightly and grit her teeth together not sure she wanted to celebrate now. "What do you mean a Queen?" Thranduil asked, looking at her curiously. "You mean tonight, Thranduil?" she replied, closing one eye. She then grasped onto his armored chest and let out a small sigh. Despite being healed by the healers, she still felt pain from her wounds. "It might be best if I rested for a while longer," she added, helping him remove his armor. A shiver ran down her spine as she gazed upon his handsome face in the flickering flames. But she wondered what kind of things he had to do that night, and didn't say anything about it. Thranduil could feel that she was still nervous, she was still worried and uncertain about celebrating. Theora moved when his armor was off and sat down on Thranduil's bed and stared back over at the fire. "Are you sure it's a good idea for me to be in your room?" she said raising her brow. To him, however, he could see that she was just teasing him. She lay back down on the bed of his and closed her eyes feeling too tired to remove anymore clothing from herself, she still had her boots on her feet. Theora laughed slightly and tried to get into the celebrating mood but it just wouldn't come to her, she wanted nothing more than to be back out there searching for her Uncle's men. He knew she would not want to do much, and he would insist on a more aggressive way of spending their time if it were not for the grime of battle that stirred within their minds. True rest and joy was still going to be a long road away, but for now he would give her all he was able. That meant a slow approach, pulling off the boots from her toned calves with a soft tug, exposing more of her slender flesh to his prying eyes. He repeated the process, and smirked as he pointed to a bottle of her people's vintage wine that he had snuck into his room. "I planned to let you have some, but it is too late now," he teased, uncorking the bottle for himself. He poured out a liquid nearly as dark as her skin into a delicate glass he also seemed to procure from nowhere and sat on the edge of the bed. "You know, I don't want you to be angry, but I... I don't want you pursuing this demon of yours alone. If he is counted among the Miar like the Dark Lord, he is not to be trifled with." He sat at his lover's feet, and took in the earthy aroma of the wine. The drink was stronger than even his kin's tiff vintage, and he almost could not bear himself to drink. Yet, he had to, if only to take away his nerves. He knew of Theora's ire and even relished it, but it was more than her now. She would have to understand how he felt. "It's not going to hurt the baby Thranduil, we are not like humans you must remember that." She said and sat up softly and slowly moved closer to the King and grabbed the bottle from him and grasped it in her hand. "Besides there is some magic protecting the child as well, I felt Galadriel put it on me and the healer strengthened it along with me." she said and grasped the bottle then swung her head back with it to her lips and gulped down a lot of sips before she put the half empty bottle down on the bedside table and let out a sigh before she lay back down. "I think you missed more than just my boots Thranduil." she said and lay back down on the bed and smirked at him. She giggled a bit and then slowly helped Thranduil's shirt off of his body and a smile grew on her face. "You have to be careful if you're going to help me with this daemon Thranduil, your kingdom can not afford to lose you." she whispered and shut her eyes. "I don't think Legolas or I can lose you either Thranduil, that is why I want you to be very careful." she said and ran her hands through his blonde hair. She then slowly lay back down the wine now hitting her, and she shut her eyes. "I love you too much to lose you." she whispered and rolled over onto her side with her back to him, he could see that she was feeling funny but at least the ale would cheer her more up and make things a lot better for her. "Father would be so proud of me tonight, though he would know I still have so much to do. Oh, I wish he could see me now." she said gently. "I wonder what else life is going to give me, I hope more good things happen." she whispered and buried her head into the covers. She let out a soft sigh as she rolled onto her back again and with her eyes shut she adjusted herself in bed. She was unaware that her shirt had ride up some more and Thranduil would be able to see her belly and her scarred, toned flesh. Furthermore, she twitched her head slightly and grabbed a blanket and hugged it her body seemed to be growing hotter, it was no thanks to the ale that she had swallowed down. He swilled the wine in his mouth, watching the woman as she tried to get comfortable in his bed, and with a smirk he reached for one of her feet. With a gentle tug that caused her to giggle underneath him, he had her dark foot on his lap. The delicate thing twitched under his fingers as he rubbed it down, pushing into where he knew she would be sore after a long march and heavy battle. Thranduil did not allow her to even pull away, instead letting her little movements ride her shirt higher along her body. "I am not a fool," Thranduil said to the woman, while his hands moved up to her ankle, "That is why I must aid you. This realm is not safe for anyone who loves peace, not with the Necromancer or this new threat looming, ever present. I can only be happy if you are safe." He tugged on her again, playfully, to pull both of their thoughts well away from the tasks that they spoke of. "That is why I also know we have to live now. It is an odd thought, a human thought, but I have lost before... He leaned in to her a little, just to look at her body tangled in his bedspread, the ebony skin smoother than the silks. He so wanted to touch her, but he was sure that was not what she needed now. He would allow her to decide, and he would use his hands and the wine to help her relax, to have a night to worry about the small things instead of the struggle ahead. "I don't think that any of are going to lose Thranduil, I know you're not a fool either. But we are going to take this beast down, and I already know the good will finish of evil. I have already seen what will happen to this so-called Necromancer and who he is. I shall not say this though for it's a few hundred years away, yet before he will be finished. It is also not my place to share and change the future, what happens will happen." Theora whispered. She had seen Frodo already with the Ring, she had seen Sauron fall, but she would not speak of this to anyone. Theora knew that someone might try and change the future, and she didn't want to say anything because Sauron could always get the information out of another, and she did not want that to happen. "I do not know what will happen between us and this demon, but we must be strong. But enough worry about these things." she said and when he finished the wine she took his glass and put it on the bedside table. "Time to teach you how to drink like a Dark Elf." she said as she grabbed the bottle and smirked taking a huge sip from it then she kissed Thranduil hard on the mouth allowing the strong drink to flow into his mouth, allowed him to swallow it. She stayed in his lap until he had drunk her mouthful before she pulled back and licked her lips. "You Wood elves taste so sweet." she muttered then she smirked putting the bottle down before she lay back down on his silk sheets and stared up at him, her shirt under her breasts. She slowly leaned back, grabbed a pillow and then threw it at the King. "Come on you being so boring, stop acting like a King for once. You look better when you smile, stop being sour all the time." she teased him as she threw another pillow at him. "Don't make me give you a maiden's braid." she giggled as she rolled to her side her back to him. Long bandages wrapped around her from where she had been wounded, but the pain seemed to not be bothering her any longer. Thranduil then would feel her bare foot push against his thigh, and soon he was pinned under her, and she sat on top of him. "Your acting so much like father." she said and stared deeply into his eyes and bit her lip. He was taken aback by the boldness of his lover as she shared wine with him through her mouth, and seemed to freeze until he forced himself to swallow. The youthful spirit was brought back with a frenzy to his eyes, and he swatted away both of her fluffy attacks before to his surprise Theora tackled him. He was pinned under her, with her crotch grinding against his torso as she tried to get a good grip. Yet, she was smaller than the king, and it was not hard for him to playfully grip her hips, to press her against him. He let her think she had won, before with his powerful arms he all but lifted her off of him and dropped her into the silky sheets. "Let me be sour when I will, and you be sweet when you want to share a bed with me. It will be better that way." He grinned, and reached over to steal away the bottle of wine back from his ebony lover. The cool glass felt good against his hand and he teased her, letting the bottom of the bottle graze her stomach, giving her a chill. Then, he let the wine bottle tip, drizzling the cool liquid against her skin. He licked his lips, before whispering, "Since we are sharing culture, let me show you how Sindarin drink wine together." Slowly, he kissed her skin, the earthy notes mixing with the slight sweat of the day on his lips. He breathed in, clutching the bottle tightly in one hand, before he found a pool of strong drink at her navel. He reached out with his tongue, licking it, taking it all in as he held her down. When he was done, another swig of drink showed that he was serious about having fun. She yelped when he threw her onto the bed gently and she stared up at him raising her brow when he spoke to her. "I am sharing a bed with you for the rest of my life, you did as me to be your wife after all Thranduil." she whispered. She then glared at him as he stole the bottle from her and she narrowed her brow some more before she wondered what he was saying. She yelped when he touched her belly with the cold bottle and she clamped her eyes shut tightly. "What the heck..." she groaned then shivered when she felt him pour the wine over her stomach, just enough to pool at her navel but not get onto the sheets, she was worried it would stain his sheets badly but she did not say this out loud to him however. She moaned softly when she felt Thranduil kiss her stomach and slowly work his way down her stomach, then cried out softly when he licked her navel clean of the drink before she watched him sip from the bottle. "That's not quite as fun as other things," she said, watching him sip from the bottle. "Try not to waste the drink, Thranduil. It's hard to make." She took the bottle and drank some more of the wine until there was hardly any left in the end of the bottle before she slumped back weakly on the bed and smiled. "You're such a grumpy old man sometimes," she teased him, knowing that it was all in good fun and they weren't really fighting. She let out a soft sigh and slowly began to pull at her shirt trying to get comfortable again, instead of pulling it down she pulled it up and off her head and threw it to the floor. She then pulled one of Thranduil's pillows against her half naked body and looked back over at him. "If you want to play then we can play Thranduil." she whispered and shut her eyes again. She twitched slightly before rolling over again the sheets fully wrapped around her now and she was stuck under them her arms pinned at her side. She bit her lip and stared up at Thranduil, she was totally drunk now, and her eyes were glazed over but at least she had a huge smile appearing on her cheeks now, and you could see that she was happier. "It is good you always taste sweet, then. Otherwise, sharing my bed every night would be a chore," Thranduil said, his mouth planting kisses along her dark skin as she leaned back into a slouched position on the pillows. He let her keep the bottle for now, and instead stroked her skin along the side of her body until he felt her writhe. He was going to pay her back for the comment about his age. Long fingers dug into her sides suddenly and without mercy, to bring her writhing underneath him. "You need to watch your tongue around your elders. If you want to be treated like your age, I can arrange that," he said, hands raising up her body until they reached her tender armpits, to find even more sensitive skin. It was soft, too soft, that flesh he touched, and her laughter was infectious as he held her down. The wine slipped from her hand, neck nestling between two of the reclining pillows, threatening to spill over the king's bedspread. He grunted, stopping for a moment, before leaning into her, his face stern, as he was about to scold her, and then with a grin he swiped the bottle back and drank the last of it. The king, who was not for strong drink, swam a little from the alcohol. The bottle rested against her side when he was done. Tickling her with a chill differently than how he could make her chill. HollowSoul She groaned and shifted under Thranduil as she narrowed her eyes and glared at him, but it soon softened. "Oh come on, Thranduil," she whispered, biting her bottom lip. "I'm just teasing you." She whimpered as his hands moved over her body and he began tickling her. She giggled when he drank the last of the wine and seemed to be drunk now. "You can't hold your liquor, can you?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "I do have respect for you, Thranduil, and I owe you my life. You saved me from dying." She whispered, a serious look on her face. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder. She sighed and let out a small moan as she lay there under Thranduil, and she shook her head slightly. "What are you going to do now? I'm starting to get this strange feeling." She said, grasping his hand and slowly bringing it to her chest. She bit her lip harder before leaning up and kissing him on the lips, letting out a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms around Thranduil's neck and held him close to her, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. "I love you, Thranduil. When do you plan on having a wedding ceremony? Are you going to tell your people tomorrow?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. She gritted her teeth together and then groaned as she brought his hand to her stomach. She reached and moved her hands into his pants, grasping his length gently and running her hand gently up and down his fat cock. She groaned, enjoying the way his cock felt in her hand. She wasn't sure why, but Theora was feeling really horny and wanted nothing more than to have his cock inside of her. "Your cock is growing so hard in my hand, Thranduil," she whispered, cocking her head to the side as she stared deeply into his eyes. "Are you enjoying yourself, my dear King?" He tossed the bottle aside, the clank of it as it hit the floor filling the air. He smiled then, knowing the delicate thing did not break, even under his carelessness. "I need you too," Thranduil told Theora, gripping her left hand to feel the ring press hard against his fingers, "I always have, from the moment you stepped into my kingdom, and I love you for that." He kissed her again, looming over her with his strong form, and found his flesh wanting more contact with hers, as if the air were poison. He continued, mixed between his desire to press against her and the burning need in his loins that she fueled with her hand. Finally, he gave in to lust, and snaked out of his trousers, fumbling so as not to let go of her hand for another moment. Then, he eyed her, as he kicked the last of his modesty away, and admired her as he had before, only with even more revelry. He knew now that she was his, more than he knew it then. She blinked and stared up at Thranduil as he towered over her again, his body pressed down against hers. She smiled softly at his words as she felt him grasp her free hand and held it back. She smiled more when he spoke about how much he loved her and it made her heart race faster once more. Her right hand still kept working his cock, moving up and down, over and over, still being gentle. She could feel Thranduil's massive cock was fully erect in her hand now and she could not help but grin from it. She then moaned when he kissed her and she made sure to kiss him back, his body pushing down on hers while she felt him trying to remove his pants, she wished she could help but both her hands were busy. She smirked when he stared down at her, her hand moving harder and faster up and down his shaft now, her thumb running over his cock head. "You are so handsome," she whispered as she pulled her lips away from his own before letting go of his cock and hand and pulling her shirt and pants off so that she was naked other than the bandages that covered her body. Theora then slowly moved forward and grasped his cock again, her white hair falling around her in a sheet. "I want to try something." She whispered and soon Thranduil would feel her mouth wrap gently around the head of his cock and it slowly began to bob up and down his shaft, her tongue moving over the head of his shaft. Theora wondered what Thranduil would think about what she was doing to him, she made sure to stay gentle however. Her left hand gripped his shaft base this time, however. She was on her knees as she moved her head, a smile on her face though he couldn't see it with her hair in the way. She moaned again and again, trying to send vibrations through his cock. She smirked as it throbbed inside of her mouth and she could see that she was causing him nothing but pleasure which made her happy. Theora wondered what he was going to do next, she was not about to stop sucking him off just yet, no it felt so damn good to have his fat dick inside her mouth.

Thranduil was taken aback by his lover's boldness, and could do little but run his fingers through her white silk hair when she began to please him. He tensed when she gripped him firmly by the base in surprise and moaned. Then his knees locked and toes stretched when her tongue ran across his glans, and he could not help himself. He had to hold on to her, to keep from giving in to his lust. Eyes locked on his lover's when she looked up to gauge his reaction and fingers that were exploring her hair started to grip into her locks. He refused to guide the independent soul pleasing him deeper on his cock, but encouraged her with gentle tugs and impassioned sounds with every bob of her head. Precum even started to seep out of him then, coating her tongue with saltiness and lubricating her throat just a little more. Then, he felt a change, a tension deep inside his loins building, and despite himself, he started to pull his lover away. It was a slow process to get her to slow down with his hard cock in her mouth, but gradually his groans made her begin to look up at him again, if only to find why he was hesitating. "I'm going to cum," he panted out after a lot of effort. A look of concern was on his face then, as if he was sure she would be disgusted with the thought of a load forced down her throat.</s>

It had all been a mistake... Cheyenne wasn't quite certain just where everything had gone wrong and was still trying to figure out where her miscalculation was. The Jedi wasn't used to failure, only victory or standstills. She was caught off guard by the fact that she was about to lose, her allies were falling one by one. She had given the signal to retreat back where they had come from, but mines went off, destroying her back line as well. She kept trying to think of other paths out, to bring some sort of victory to the Rebels, to save her comrades! Another blaster fire whizzed by her and she heard the cry of a man fall to the ground, dead. This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. They encircled her, believing that they could kill her with numbers, she would prove them wrong. She began slicing through their numbers, their army backing up. Maybe there would be a victory in this, if only Cheyenne could get out. Before she could even try to though, the ground shifted from under her unexpectedly and she began to drop. The army stopped firing upon her the moment that it shifted, and that was when Cheyenne suddenly realized what her miscalculation was. It had been her. The army hadn't been put there to kill her Military, they had been there to capture her. It was obvious now since she had fallen for the trap, cut down their pawns, only for them to lead her right into the falling ground and them abruptly stop firing. Who's commands were these though? Who had outsmarted her? A General of the Rebellion who's prestige was renowned through the galaxy... That was it again, she miscalculated herself. She had made her presence known, wanting to mark her victories and take her claim for her wins. It rallied troops around her, but it also held grudges and enemies against her. They knew of her at that point. She had been the mistake. She dropped with a crouch, turning to the presence that she sensed. Deep blue eyes that looked almost green glared in the shadows though she couldn't see. This was the one, he had been the one that had calculated for her to be arrogant enough to keep fighting in the battles, to take arms in the front line even though her presence was well known through the Empire as the Jedi scum that gave them trouble. Lights slowly flicked on, first at her feet and then steadily moving towards the other person in the room. She had been right about her assumption of it being a man - he had been waiting for her. His head was bowed so she could only see the crown of horns upon his head. But as he rose to look at her, smirk at his victory of trapping the Jedi, she could feel the dark side radiating from him. He had been able to cloak himself? Most impressive. Cheyenne sort of recognized him, he had been one of the few that she had tarnished the Empire's plans for. Glaring at him, she ignited her lightsaber and took her stance - she wasn't going down easy if he was going to fight fair.

Coerced into failures of the fleeting past only spiraling indirectly into erupting racially as a Zabrak's known self-assuredness; prompting a berserker physiology oozing complete animalistic fury. Drakron held prestige amongst the elite of the Empire, forgoing the christening names Sith are accustomed towards seizing after the metamorphism. Attunement over one's mental attributes paralleling to the traits strengthening this beast by raw emotion. Deep immersion to the gifts of the dark side were symbolized immeasurably by the trademark corruption of luminous, sulfuric yellow hues tracing over the form of his Jedi prey. A Zabrak nightbrother held no contempt, only acclamation for his origins despite feelings he was taken as some exotic barbarian warrior-slave for the Emperor himself. Neglecting repressed opinions, a barbarous grin psyched for glorious combat listening to the wailing and screams of dead rebels by the cumulative streams of red lasers emitting from E-11 blaster rifles the Stormtroopers fired with reckless abandon. Witnessing the vulnerable surface rattled, he patiently though expressing an virtue even partially associated for placid action was an unfortunate forgery of his intentions for his prey. A stratagem befitting for a formidable force sensitive as herself, Drakron kept his blood lust famished when such subtleties became significant, though to the rebel's fortunes he relied on his own skills versus larger scale skirmishes with complexities involved. An abundance of capable combatants from both sides of the conflict never beheld a specimen of his stature, towering warriors with an staggering height of seven feet tall with protruding obsidian colored horns fashioned like a crown secured over the dark brown complexion harmonizing with the motif of sheer terror masked with blackened tribal tattoos of the planet Dathomir amplified further by highlighting the tattoos with red scarfication marks adorned in his perverse version of glory and perhaps a hint of masochism. Shirtless with armor allocating near the Cestus like gloves, bracers, even braces near the dark cloth of his pants, he represented the martial warrior of the ancient times. " Decided running not worth dead comrades? " The dilact was chalky in pronouncing words within the confines of comprehend, utilizing the most prevalent of languages known as basic or galactic standard. Brawny, infused by the passion of a challenge and other horrific imagery amassed in the horned skull of this venomous creature of importance to his military. Cheyenne's lightsaber once conjured painted vivid supposition over the details of past battles. A lightsaber burned marked the left corner of his face where eyebrows would be positioned should his species really bore hair, another greeting flesh through the bicep and an invisible one cloaked by clothing through the right upper thigh. Anxious to test her fighting prowess after an extended vacation away from each other, the Zabrak would finally exact revenge in a style only suitable for his species and the disciplines of the dark side itself. Diverting into a mantra emulating a mirrored sentiment of the former Jedi order, its served for psychological warfare and heightening himself mentally for the duel ready to commence between two practitioners of the force. " Peace is a lie, there is only PASSION!!! Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. " Weight began to distribute between the staggering feet of the martial sith, fixated at width approximately at the shoulder. Aligning them accordingly, she eavesdrop upon these antics prior to combat itself, both feet angled slightly to the side and the knees should be facing in the same direction of the feet; never flatfooted. Hands adhered to about temple level, back slightly hunched, and most important having elbows raised to safeguard the chest. Manufacturing a distinguishing fighting style of unarmed combat with the capabilities of a sith warrior made this brute versatile and incredibly lethal. Muscles swelled, though trained eyes could watch the force manifest throughout his core with controlled breathing. Literally the calm before the blood stained storm, Drakron's hunger gre insatiable the longer he stood composed. Unknowingly this effect struck at a Force-user's energy and metabolism, pulling out all the weapons for the long ride. Assuming the usual stance, his right foot rose above his towering height before slamming his armored boot forward; appearing akin to a blur. Masking telegraphed maneuvers, a powerful current of kinetic energy surging through the might of the sith targeted the midsection, soaring like laser fire and crashing like the fury of a Wookie tackling an adversary. " Peace is a lie, there is only PASSION!!!</s>

Bozeman, Montana...April 5, 2063...First Contact. It was only moments after the Vulcan scout ship landed that the Humans who were led by Zefram Cochrane attacked and killed the aliens. The Vulcan Ship was then stripped of everything while the Humans acted like wild animals partying around the fallen bodies of the alien invaders. The Terran Empire had just found new technology which it would use to expand across the galaxy. The Terran Empire applied this stolen Vulcan technology to a policy of aggressive expansion which led to many races being conquered. The Andorians, the Tellarites, the Orions, the Trill, the Betazoids and yes the Vulcans soon found themselves under the heels of the Human Empire. The Humans showed themselves to be brutish, scheming, and murderous creatures and they even shocked the Klingons and Romulans with how deceitful they could be. The Empire's hold on its territories was initially weak. In the 2150's, some of the worlds conquered by the Terrans were beginning to rebel against Terran rule, leading to a long-running conflict in which the Empire came to the brink of collapse. Propaganda, however, conveyed the message that things were going in the Empire's favor and that the war would be over soon. In 2155 the USS Defiant, a Federation ship launched in the 23rd century of a parallel universe, was reported in Tholian space. A mission was undertaken by the crew of the ISS Enterprise which at the time was under command of its First Officer Jonathan Archer. It was Archer's plan to steal this ship away from the Tholians and use it to overthrow the Emperor. The crew of the Enterprise did in fact steal this ship from the Tholians, but also lost the Enterprise in the opening moments of the battle. It did appear that Archer would take control over the Empire, but double dealing and backstabbing were apart of everyday life in the Terran Empire....that is if one wanted to get ahead. Archer found out too late that another member of the Enterprise crew had her sights set on ruling the empire. Lieutenant Hoshi Sato, who was the Enterprise's communications officer had ideas of her own. She poisoned Archer then took the Defiant for her own. Using the powerful Starship from the future, Hoshi soon took control and she was pronounced Empress of the Empire. After the defeat of the rebellion, the Empire turned its attention towards the other races in the alpha and beta quadrants. The Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians, the Tholians, the Gorn, the Ferengi, the Xindi, and the Breen were the only major powers left that could stand against the Empire. The Klingons and the Romulans had a long-standing hatred for each other due to years of betrayal, and even though they hated the Terrans, they couldn't set aside their mistrust for each other. The Romulans would stand alone and face down the Humans without help from anyone. In time, the Klingons joined with the Cardassians in an Alliance against the Terrans while the other races just sat back, not wishing to get involved. In 2267, members of the crew from the USS Enterprise, including Captain James T. Kirk, were accidentally transported to the mirror universe aboard the mirror version of the Enterprise, the ISS Enterprise. Before Kirk left, he tried to plant seeds of doubt in Spock's mind, but in this reality, Spock didn't succumb to Kirk's attempt to change the Empire. The Terran Empire continued under the control of the descendants of Hoshi Sato. But even the great Sato family had enemies inside the Empire, and in 2275, the Sato family was removed from power by Grand Fleet Admiral James Maxwell. The coup d'tat ended the rule of the Sato family who had been in power for well over a century. Maxwell proclaimed himself Emperor Maxwell the First after taking power. Emperor Maxwell started a program to rebuild Starfleet since years of battle against the rebellion left it weak, and if the Empire was ever going to conquer the remaining enemies, it needed its forces to be ready. An uneasy peace settled over the galaxy for almost a century. There were still battles between the major powers and the Empire, but all-out war was avoided. In 2368, war did break out when the Empire was finally ready and their target was the Romulan Star Empire. For the next five years, a bloody war raged between these two great powers, and by 2373, the Romulan Empire was ready to fall. The Romulans were going to make their last stand at a planet known as Galorndon Core where the bulk of their fleet would mass. The Fourth Fleet of the Terran Empire was sent out to destroy the remaining Romulan ships and pave the way towards the Romulan home worlds of Romulus & Remus. However, inept leadership on the part of Admiral Stone, who was leading this mission, and by a number of captains who greatly underestimated the Romulans' will to survive caused the Terran Empire to suffer a bitter defeat when they outnumbered the Romulan ships two to one. The Terran Empire sent the entire 4th fleet, consisting of 224 starships, to Galorndon Core, but only 87 made it back to Starbase 173. On the voyage back to Starbase 173, many of those who had been in command were locked up, some even killed by their own people. One of those locked up by his own crew was Captain Benton Maddox of the ISS Raptor, a Conqueror Class Attack Cruiser NCC 6472 carrying a crew of over 500 and an assault force of 150 MACO's (Military Assault Command Operations). These special troops were aboard each ship and served to protect the ship from intruders as well as being used as ground assault forces. Captain Maddox quickly found himself under arrest by his first officer, Commander Mason Kane. Commander Kane and the crew who backed him locked their captain away before heading for Starbase 173 with the remaining ships. Emperor Maxwell the 2nd, the firstborn son of Maxwell the 1st, took power after his father's death in 2359 and was outraged over the defeat of his forces, which should have won against the Romulans. He ordered Admiral Stone put to death. Captain Maddox was stripped of his rank and command and thrown into prison. Commander Kane was promoted to captain of the ISS Raptor and given new orders: a secret invasion of the mirror universe Federation. This invasion was to gather information on the Federation's technology and bring back anything that the empire didn't have. The Federation had been so helpful in the past with the USS Defiant that the Emperor felt they could possibly have new weapons or updated shields that the Terran Empire hadn't discovered yet. Captain Kane accepted this mission with a smile on his face. He knew that if they could bring back anything from the Federation, both he and the crew of the Raptor would be hailed as heroes of the empire. Kane left Admiral Grey's office on Starbase 173 and returned to his ship. The Raptor was currently being worked on to repair battle damage received during the fight at Galorndon Core. Losing this battle made the Terran Empire appear weak in the eyes of its enemies, something that couldn't be allowed to last. There was also some disturbing news which had come to Emperor Maxwell's attention a few months ago. A wormhole had been discovered in the Bajor System and this wormhole led to the Gamma Quadrant. The Klingon-Cardassian Alliance who had joined with the smaller power the Bajorans were in control of this gateway. The Emperor wanted this wormhole just as much as he had wanted the Romulans destroyed. Now with the Terran Empire looking very weak, he couldn't launch an assault on the Bajoran System or destroy the Romulans. This was his reasoning behind sending the Raptor into the mirror universes to find new technology. Emperor Maxwell the Second would have this wormhole, or it would be destroyed and no one would have it. In a few hours, the Raptor was repaired and left Starbase 173. A device had been attached to the ship's Deflector Array on the inside and was controlled from the bridge. This device would open up an interdimensional gateway which would take the Raptor into Federation space, then bring them home once their mission was over. Captain Kane stood tall and proud in front of his crew as he told them the news of this glorious mission and what it meant to the Empire. Mason Kane had finally been given what he had wanted for so long... command of his own ship. Handsome and powerfully built, Kane was on the fast track to getting a ship of his own one day, and now that he was captain, the women on board would be throwing themselves at him. The women of the Empire knew how to work their way to the top. Hoshi Sato herself had certainly fucked her way straight up and become Empress. The entire crew was standing in the shuttle bay while Captain Kane spoke of the glorious mission. To Kane's left stood his new first officer, Commander Faven Boreas. Although she appeared to be human, Faven was born and raised on the planet Ekos. To Kane's right stood Lieutenant Commander Dixon Webb who was human and Lieutenant Commander Tala Kalel Raioth who was an Andorian female. The blue-skinned beauty was the Security Chief and called Commander Tala since Andorian names are not easy to pronounce. Commander Webb was the Chief Engineer aboard the Raptor. It was his job to make sure that the gateway device worked properly. Captain Kane placed his right fist over his chest, then extended his arm outwards in front of his body." LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE! "This move and the words spoken were repeated by the crew. Everyone returned to duty once word on their mission had been explained. The Raptor soon approached the location where they would use their new gateway device. All of the ship's power would have to be transferred to the device in order to open the doorway, then the ship would enter. Once on the other side in Federation space, the Raptor would begin looking for a ship or station that they could attack, overcome, and take over. After that they would steal whatever information they could find in the computers and take prisoners. Once this was done, the Raptor would return to their universe with their prizes.

The training room, unlike the plush holodecks of the Federation, had no safeties built in to protect the participants. Little larger than a turbolift shaft, the training room spanned three decks and could with great effort poorly simulate any environment. The blow when it came stole her breath and knocked her onto her back. The Nausican pirate stood over her gloating, working the clasp of his belt to complete his celebration. Taking careful aim, Faven drove the man's balls back into his pelvis; the rest of the pirates' body fell two stories to the floor. Faven stood looking down at the last of three pirate prisoners taken from a crew of thirty. Leaping off the edge, she landed next to the pirate and raised her dagger overhead, plunging it into the Nausican's heart. "Attention all crew," the computer announced in a voice every bit as venomous as its crew. "We are about to enter the mirror universe." A wall of energy like a lens washed over her body; she felt like she was underwater, gasping for air. Then it was over. She read the reports from the incidents and wondered if each crossing was different than the last. The MACO were preparing in the shuttle bay, always polishing their weapons on one another, damn sexed MACO. Faven made her way to the bridge; men and equipment were being unloaded. Given the technological edge the Federation had over the Empire, the fight would be long and hard. "First officer Faven, we have sighted a Federation science station. Only a few freighters are docked. It was too good to be true - a target like this was more than they could have wished for, and thus must be a trap. Scan for cloaked mines. She refused to believe that the Federation was as trusting as reports made them out to be. The first sign of trouble was an exploding photon torpedo over the port nacelle; the micro torpedo didn't even heavily damage the shield. It was just a runabout, after all - ignore it if you can. She watched another attack from the opposite direction. How many of those small craft could a station that size have anyways? She wondered. The ship fired back, but the nimble craft evaded with ease, breaking off its attack run to do so. This is science station Epsilon, we are on a peaceful mission, the communication was cut at their end. Did they expect the Empire to care whether they were friendly or not? They still had good tech to steal. Faven had seconds to react before the cargo bay door was torn from its hinges, sliding over the floor of the shuttle bay. A piece of the door sliced through two decks and two rooms, coming just short of her head in the turbo lift cart. The edge glowed fiery hot, and she could see the damaged runabout through a gap between the door fragment and the wall of the shaft. Faven crawled on top of the door fragment, pulling herself through the gash to the shuttle bay as the cart wined then fell to the bottom of the shaft. Faven said a quick prayer for the junior officer crushed in the shuttle. She could see the runabout had plowed through several shuttles in its death roll, including the one manned by the MACO's commanding officer. Who was second in command here? A low-ranking officer pointed to the same command shuttle. Turns out all three senior officers were in the same shuttle - stupid! We're either the Empire or the Federation. Grabbing a weapon, Faven shot the fourth ranking officer. Listen: I am now in command. First rule: One commanding officer per shuttle. Rule two: No formation flying, no communications. I don't need a bullseye drawn on my ship. Taking a set of armor from a storage rack, Faven entered the shuttle she would have all the glory of taking the enemy commander for herself.</s>

Kratos smiled for the first time in a long time as he felt his life fading away. The gods were dead, hope was released into the world, and he had his vengeance on Ares and Zeus. That Athena was angered by being deprived of her weapon was a wonderful bonus; no god would be able to rule over men again. But now, his part was done. He could finally join his wife and daughter in death. He lay back and let death take him. At least he thought death would take him. He felt the warm sun and breeze on his skin. Had he come to Elysium to see his family again? He heard the clang of steel and gradually woke up. He looked around and found himself in a fertile valley. It certainly was not the world ravaged by storms, darkness, plague, blight and flood he had left. He stood up and looked around. Feeling himself draw breath, he realized he was not yet dead. His blades were still attached to his arms. He was definitely on some other world. He headed for the sounds of metal smashing against metal. As he got closer, he realized it was not the sound of some smith working his trade, but a battle between two foes. He heard the grunts of exertion. One sounded male and the other almost female. He jogged towards the sound, his blades firm in his grip. He came to a clearing through some woods and saw a woman dressed in what could only be a warrior's garb and a man in full hoplite armor brawling with each other. He watched them battle and then heard the woman call the armored man "Ares". There was only one person Kratos knew by that name and the garb would befit the god of war, even if he hadn't been so covered when last they met. "Ares! Who has seen fit to give you life again to torment me? Was it Athena? Or is this some plan by Zeus? It matters not! I killed you once, God of War, and I can do it again. Let's finish this!" His blades came up and he lunged at Ares, intent on taking his head off as he shouted a war cry at him.

How was it that this vicious god of war somehow tracked Diana to the land of men? The champion now known to the public as Wonder Woman had thought she'd left that world behind when she'd left her homeland of Themyscira behind. The gods and their followers had been as vibrant as ever in the land of the Amazons. Diana herself bore the blessings of several gods in her armor and her weapons. The very blade she used against Ares now had been forged by gods to be wielded by their divinely appointed champion. Wonder Woman and Ares, god of war, had been fighting above the city for some time. The god had appeared and caused something of a rampage, apparently intent on drawing the princess of the Amazons out into an outright confrontation. The city itself had little in the way of protectors. While capes had begun appearing throughout the world in ever increasing numbers, this particular metropolis hadn't laid claim to any. Diana was merely staying here in a stop-gap as she and her escort traveled through this strange new land and learned of its customs. So naturally the Amazonian princess rose to the occasion. She would have anyway: the thought of getting into a fight, let alone a fight with someone as foul as Ares, aroused great interest in the warrior princess. She had left her island and its comfort for precisely reasons like this. Her muscles rippled in the sunlight, their tanned flesh no doubt drawing many eyes even as she punched or slashed at her godly foe. Wonder Woman looked every inch the mythological figure she represented. Flowing ebony hair had been tied back into a warrior's tail that extended to a bottom so round and firm that it looked capable of crushing coal into diamond. That hair framed a face that appeared blessed by Aphrodite herself, from finely sculpted features to piercing blue eyes to the plump lips that now curved in a fierce joy and ferocity. The light outfit of blue, white, and red covered her lithe body well, accentuating her femininity. This was, of course, the point. Let the enemy be distracted by Wonder Woman's female form, right up until she drove her fist into their faces. True, it did mean displaying a fair amount of leg and thigh, though her boots climbed over her knees anyway, but Wonder Woman hardly cared. The fabric alone would deflect most blows, and her blessed bracers would handle the rest. Wonder Woman looked every inch the superheroine as she fought Ares. And now she had to back away as a fierce warrior appeared seemingly out of no where. Wonder Woman watched as Ares barely jerked a weapon up in time to deflect the fierce warrior's attack. A flash of seeming recognition twisted that face, drawing a barked laugh from Wonder Woman. "Aha, so it appears that another enemy of yours has appeared. You will meet your end this day, Ares," she brandished her weapon again, but Ares had already started to shift, obviously intent on drawing this newcomer into a direct battle. He'd been wounded some by Diana already, as she had a few scrapes and blows of her own. Still, he moved well, obviously ready to fight off this newcomer. "You stink of fear, god," barked Wonder Woman, shifting from sword to lasso, figuring that range and reducing the number of blades in the fray would be best. Maybe her new ally could distract the god of war further...</s>

Morgan jerked awake in mid-scream, her gray eyes shooting open as she took in the now familiar design of her room at Xavier's mansion. Sitting up, she sighed and checked the alarm clock by her bedside. "2 am," she murmured, turning on the bedside lamp. "Fucking great." Shaking her head, she slipped her long legs off the edge of the bed. Another sleepless night in the hell that had become her life since her return from England. Two weeks ago, she'd been back away from Dante and his group, the lot that made Magneto look like a freaking pussycat. In those two weeks, her dreams had been haunted by his face as he threatened to get revenge on her. She knew it was starting to show, the professor had even offered to read her mind. Of course she denied it, last thing she needed was him sending a team out there to handle something that she started in the first place. Pulling on a small robe, she grabbed her uniform and headed to the bathroom that everyone on this floor shared. Maybe some training would help; stripping off her pajamas, she turned the water on high and let the water wash away her nightmare. Rolling her shoulders, she slipped the black leather uniform on and headed to the danger room. At this hour, no one but Wolverine was ever up, or so she thought he was the only one still awake.

In the danger room, the faint sound of clinking metal was made apparent. He always had a smoke after training. The dark also calmed him down. His red eyes scanned the dark room, as he sat in the middle of it. He groaned softly and he sat back against the wall, he looked around him. Silence. Darkness. Just the way he liked it. Another puff of his cigarette and he was sailing, his mind was calm, his body was calm. Overall, he was calm. The clink of the metal door surprised him. It was two o'clock, and there was someone coming in to train. . . something didn't seem right. He waited for the person to show themselves. A charged card, ready for whoever this person was. The room reeked of cigarette smoke and sweat, and the lights had not turned on yet. The card sat in his hands idly. He would be ready to fight if needed. . . As soon as he saw her face, due to the light in the hall, he smirked and the card lost its charge. He put the card away and turned his attention to the woman who was there now. "Can't sleep?" The Cajun's voice echoed throughout the room. His accent apparent. . .</s>

To whom it may concern, The demon Andras is to report to the Incubus Palace at noon tomorrow to receive appointment and orientation to the Order of Temptation, by order of Lady Morrigan. Failure to present in a punctual and appropriate manner will result in a fine and/or decapitation. Andras read over the appointment letter once again as he neared the gates of the palace. It was a huge, towering structure that seemed to simply radiate hedonism. Even from the gates he could hear moans of ecstasy faint in the distance. Not many got the opportunity to train to be an incubus. It wasn't something one applied for, exactly. One was chosen. Andras didn't have to wrack his brain as to why. After all, his aunt was Lady Morrigan herself. Not that that would spare him from decapitation if he were late, but even demons had family bonds. As he approached the gate, Andras showed his invitation letter to the guards and was greeted by a giggling nude woman no older than seventeen. She seemed human, but could very well have been a golem or a nymph or any other product of the debaucherous witchery that ran rampant within these walls. He was led down the main corridor, taking a few glances at her perfect ass bouncing in front of him as she took him to the throne room. The moaning grew louder as the doors were opened by another pair of guards to reveal nude figures of many shapes and colors writhing about together on the floors, tables, chairs, whatever could be implemented in their wild ballroom dance of passion. So this was to be his home now...Andras couldn't say he wasn't impressed. As he approached the throne, Andras bowed deeply to his aunt. "Your loyal neophyte and loving nephew, my lady," he introduced himself in his deep, smooth voice. Andras was a strapping young demon at 19, with smoldering tan skin, long black hair, and a pair of green eyes that could hypnotize an unwary woman. He came from an esteemed family of incubi and succubi that prided themselves on their continued line of beautiful and malevolent demons. The genetic lottery was kind to him. Andras tried to avoid looking at the copious copulators all around him and focused on Morrigan. He didn't want her to think he was inexperienced so early in the process.

For mere mortals, the voices in the never-ending orgy that is held in the palace of ultimate pleasure would be maddening. A thousand voices from from a thousand different throats, some bestial and others almost divine but all are similar in one aspect, they were all screams of lust. In the center of the maelstrom, one figure sat elegantly on a throne made of living demonic bats. She was the epitome of beauty. There is no being, regardless of it's race or origin who would not feel the need to fuck her the second they laid eyes on her flawless form. Morrigan Aensland, queen of succubuss, uncrossed her legs and walked forward to greet her nephew. "Andras," she purred seductively while licking her palm. Instantly, her hand snaked down his crotch, grasping the demon's cock and with heavenly skills, jerked him off. "My, how you've grown..." The queen said with a chuckle. Indeed he had a good sized cock for a demon and she had no doubt that this cock will serve her kingdom well. With a snap of her free fingers, her throne dispersed into a swarm of dark wings and re-formed as a large comfortable couch behind Andras. Slowly, the queen guided the boy to sit back and relax, pulling his pants down so she can handle his cock more freely. "It is time for you to walk this path dear boy.." She whispered close to his ears, eyes locked on the horsecock in her palm. "To use your...Gifts for our kingdom..It is a path of cunning, seduction and the animalistic sensations that comes with the territory..So..Are you ready?"</s>

A lone man sat alone in a large cathedral. He looked around at the damage still there. The painted glass window at the front was still shattered, the sword still ripped from Spardas, and some of the pews were still tossed around the cathedral. The man sat with his back hunched forward and his arms resting on his knees. The left arm had his sleeve rolled up, revealing tan, battle-scarred skin. On his opposite arm he had the sleeve rolled down, a faint blue glow emanating from under the sleeve. His face was contorted in anger, aggravation, and stress. His silver hair was matted down, messily, and it hung over his face. This lone figure in the church was a young man named Nero. He was a member of the former Knights of the Holy Order, but they disbanded when it turned out their leader was a crazed lunatic. Now Nero was just a freelancer doing any job that came his way. Gods, he was starting to become Dante! On top of him being out of a job, his relationship with Kyrie was now over; it turns out killing her brother caused a much bigger rift than what Nero expected. So he came here to the Cathedral to try and think things over and figure out his next move. He was about to leave when he heard the large oak doors swing open, the groan of the iron hinges ringing in the cathedral. He turned his head to see a small man in white and gold robes shuffle into the cathedral. The man was old, wrinkles lined his face. Nero stood up and turned to the man, "Can I help you sir?" The man stopped and spoke in a giant voice that seemed to carry in the room, "I'm looking for the leader of the Holy Knights, I am requesting aid." Nero chuckled and shook his head, "Your about three moths late gramps. We closed up shop." The man looked saddened by the news, "Oh... Thank you anyway young man." He then turned and began to walk away. Nero pondered for a moment, if this man had an aid request then that means he had the money to pay for it and Nero was light on that. He quickly jogged to catch up with him. "Hey gramps, what's the job? I used to be a Knight, hell I was the best of them." A smile then returned to the mans face, "Oh thank you youn man! You don't how much this means to my brothers and sisters!" The man moved to shake Neros right hand but Nero jerked the hand away. "Just tell me what I need to do." The old man then went into detail about how he was a part of a cult called "The Followers of the Light" and that their members were starting get picked off by a woman in all black. She could summon demons and torture devices at will as well as slowing time down. Sounded like a challenge. "Ok," Nero said when the man finished, "Where to?" The old man took out a slip of paper, it had directions to a city called Vigrid. As well as directions to a bar called "Hells Gate" the old man said that was her suspected base of operations. Nero agreed to the job and went home. When he got there he pulls Doug encase and began to pack all of his weapons, Blue Rose, Red Queen, the next one he was hesitant about. It was Yamato, Dante's brothers katana. It was a simple looking sword, the steel shinned like any other sword, the grip was wrapped in simple blue and white cloth, but the power within the sword was phenomenal. He took the sword with it's sheath and put it in the case. Then it was off to Vigrid to find this woman that was causing these guys trouble.

"There's nothing to do, no one left to have fun with," a slender, busty woman sighed heavily, swirling around the liquid in her glass, a white stick protruding from her full glossy lips. "You complain' about nothing to do. Thought you'd be happy," a large black man mumbled in a deep voice to the woman clad in black leather. "Don't get me wrong Rodin, it's all peaches and cream but with no one to play with, I'm bored. The angels have been few and far between, I want a challenge, besides love, Cheshire hasn't been very fun recently either, to busy with his damned flirting and rose throwing. That's all fine and good babe, but I need action." Cerza laughed softly, running a long fingered hand between her supple breasts. "There's word around town that the Followers of the Light are gonna hire a demon hunter." Rodin shifted behind the bar, a dark smirk curling up the corners of his mouth, "Apparently he's suppose to be good." Cerza snickered softly, "Oh I'm so frightened Rodin. I'm sure he'll be nothing compared to those naughty angels I play with. Sounds to me like this demon hunter is going to need a good spanking hm?" Rodin snickered behind his dark sunglasses, just be careful Bayonetta, there are a lot of people that want you to visit Inferno these days, and I'm sure those demons you summon won't be too happy either. Tear that body to yours apart." Another laugh, "I'm not worried about my pets, as long as there is music I'll keep dancing," she gave Rodin a quick wink before she stepped through the portal. In a flash of an eye, she was back in Vigrid, sauntering down the street, hips swaying seductively.</s>

"Right...Master," the word rolled awkwardly off her tongue when she said it. She didn't quite understand why? It was a simple six letter word, with no true meaning other than the one the user gave to it. Besides, she was simply playing apart for a mission. It was to serve her as a sort of tool to bring justice to the wronged, but as that simple little word left her mouth she felt a sort of defeat she couldn't quite describe. Looking towards Akira she smiled softly at him responding to the tug of her newly placed collar. I have to grow use to this. Ready myself. She thought while the blurring color of the city lights passed her. Jeanne didn't keep track of how long it took, or even how they'd gotten there, a matter unusual to her usual alert nature, but her mind was else where, and with good reason. When they had finally pulled up to the establishment Jeanne took a calming breath. It was go time, she had to still her nerves and become her role. Slave. She grimaced some, she had to get use to it. Had to. Following obediently behind Akira she kept her eyes fixed to the ground, in front of this man she did what she thought a slave would do. How would those two slaves opening the door react, how would anyone controlled by another respond to any of this. Breathe. She had managed to calm her nerves enough that walking into the club almost seemed easy. Until she heard the music, and even more gruesome the sounds of carnal desire. The moans of a man and woman engaging in sexual delight brought a cheeriness to her face and she almost felt the urge to bolt. How could anyone do something of that nature so openly? With such reckless abandon for their moral being. Looking into Akira's eyes she listened to his words carefully, almost as if to silence the noises surrounding her. Last chance. He was right, she hadn't seen anything yet. Hadn't been tainted in anyway she could still leave if she absolutely wanted to do so. She turned her head to glance back for a moment, the image of the wronged displaying themselves in front of her eyes. No. As strongly as she might feel about escape this pool of sin, she had to stay. Had to help the fallen and right a wrong. "I'm ready. Master," she gave a strong nod to explain to her mage that this saint's mind was made up. She was going. Period.

Akira nodded his head and steeled himself as well as he drew in a deep breath. He was slightly more used to this than Jeanne... after all, he had been raised around this kind of stuff as the heir to a prestigious Magus. Still, this part of the life he had tried to distance himself from as best he could. If Jeanne could steel herself though, then so could he. He tugged on her collar and they entered the main room. As soon as the doors were opened, the music instantly filled their eyes, and the carnal sound of sex became much less muted too. This smell of sweat and sex also followed suit, rolling over them in a wave. Akira took in strides and maintained his calm demeanor. He wasn't sure how Jeanne would hold up though. Sex and drugs filled their sight... people were openly taking pills, snorting cocaine, and doing who knows what other kinds of drugs. Sex was everywhere as well; some people had the decency to hide themselves behind curtains or doorways, yet others fucked in plain sight, many drawing attention to themselves. There were platforms scattered throughout, circular and raised with poles in the middle where beautiful and naked women were preforming various dances. Akira tugged on Jeanne's collar to draw her attention away from it all as he approached the bar and ordered a drink, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of place... though nothing would seem out of place in a place like this is what he was thinking.</s>

Seto Kaiba had done many amazing things throughout the years of his life. Taking control of his adoptive father's business and shifting it to the polar opposite of the once prolific arm dealing company, games. His rise to the top of the powerful world of business assisted by the visionary of his "solid image" system and the card game Duel Monsters. Though he had once reigned undisputed in all things, he found himself unable to take one thing for himself - the title of "The King of Games", a title he had made specifically for himself stolen by his lifetime rival. Now that rival was gone, returned to the land of the dead leaving behind his vessel and the knowledge that now Seto would never be able to have his redemption against the ancient spirit. The fact gnawed at him from behind, causing him to obsess over the thought of dueling the pharaoh again and finally settling the score. Though usually dismissive of the occult and supernatural, Seto could not disavow the mystical nature of his foe and thus was powerless with his technology to return him to this plane. He slammed a clenched fist into the arm of his chair at the thought, it was a fact he knew all too well that his mind would remind him of constantly. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair as he rubbed his eyes. The door to his office opening as one of his loyal subordinates came in. "Master Kaiba, the preparations are complete for the experiment. We only await your presence." Standing, the CEO walked around his desk and collected a locked case sitting by its side. "Has our VIP arrived yet?" "Yes sir, she was brought in earlier, albeit slightly annoyed at the summons we were able to convince her to come and assist as per your orders," the man replied. Kaiba nodded as they entered an elevator and descended into the basements below the company building, stepping out and proceeding to the lab. Once inside he would see his "guest", Ishizu Ishtar, a woman he met during one of his tournaments. She had predicted his fall and been wrong, despite this though he knew she understood two things he did not. The first being the occult, the second ancient Egyptian speech. Unlocking his case, he produced the one thing more important than near everything in his life: his deck. He recalled the time he had hallucinated himself back in the Ancient Egyptian times, though now he was not sure it was a hallucination. There he saw a man looking much like himself and a young girl that had seemingly been the will of his most powerful servant, The Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Drawing three powerful cards from his deck, he placed them in a triangle formation on the ground before walking out of the chamber. The men worked the console as he observed. Numbers and words flashing along the screens as the ceiling tiles of the chamber opened to lower a familiar item into view: the Millennium Rod. Remembering the priest having used this item, he concluded that it might be needed for this ritual to work. Multiple electrodes focused onto the object as the eye began to glow, the three dragons sharing its brilliance. "Now then," Kaiba said, "let's see what comes out, shall we?"

Ishizu Ishtar Peace. Harmony. Faith. Hope. Finally, these aspects had coated the world - specifically Domino City - over the past two years. The last bits of chaos seemed to vanish as Atem was able to be put to rest. The moment had been bittersweet for everyone, including the now twenty-two year old priestess herself. Still, as a priestess devoted to the Egyptian gods, she knew the duel between Atem and Yugi had been essential. It just wouldn't have otherwise been right or fair to force Atem to not be given the afterlife he deserved. Normally, she devoted herself to the goddess her counterpart had been named after, Isis. But Ishizu could safely know and say that on the day Yugi had competed versus the Pharaoh, she definitely sent up many silent prayers to Anubis in hopes that he would favor Atem. Suffice to say, she was glad - even to this day - those pleas had appeared to be heard. Naturally, everyone had gone their own separate ways. Yugi and the others were focusing on their school, at least this was true according to what she'd heard. The biggest surprise had come from both Odion and her brother, as both agreed to go back to Egypt and try to take their positions as the family 'guardians' once more. After how long he fought against those duties and obligations? Interesting ... Her eyes closed as a faint smile crossed her face. Alas, her reminiscing was rather abruptly interrupted by a firm hand landing on her shoulder. The blue eyes of the priestess quickly opened as she turned away from the stone tablet that had been in front of her and saw some very nicely dressed men in black suits. "May I help you?" Ishizu asked calmly, fighting the urge to narrow her eyes. It was no mystery whom these men were; they no doubt belonged to Seto Kaiba, as his employers were infamous for looking like they belonged to the yakuza rather than someone who was in charge of a company linked to a card game. However, any lingering doubts on whom these men were quickly vanished as they explained the reason for being in the museum. "Seto-sama has requested your presence, Miss Ishtar," she merely was told. That certainly made her raise an eyebrow. "Oh? You sure he asked me? He's ... well .... himself. The last time we spoke, he just scoffed at me and ignored --- hey! What are you doing?!" No verbal response was given. All Ishizu got for an answer was being yanked out of the museum and into a black limousine which had been parked outside. "W-Wait! What's this about?!" Ishizu wasn't quite panicked, per se. But now, her attention had definitely been grabbed as well as herself. "You'll see .... " Suffice to say, those last words had stayed with her the entire ride there. This abrupt encounter was not sitting well with her. Even without the Millennium Necklace, Ishizu was feeling anything but good about this. Thankfully, the silence was broken as the car came to a halt, with her door being the first to be opened. A hand began to reach in before she smacked it away and stepped out of the limousine herself. "I can walk fine," she muttered, "Just focus on leading the way to where exactly he is." That seemed to be good enough for them, luckily, as they made no attempt to grip her again. A brief walk later, she found herself in ... what was this exactly? It was hard to say, but if Ishizu had to label it as anything, it would be a slightly half-assed attempt at some sort of ritual chamber. "Seto-san, do you mind explaining what .... ??" Her eyes widened as a glint of gold reflected in her eyes. Ishizu felt her heart sink as she turned and found it to be none other than the Millennium Rod. "You ... you took that back?! Why?! We put the Millennium Items away to help ensure Atem could be put to rest properly!" It took a lot to get the priestess annoyed, let alone sincerely angry. But right then and there, she definitely was fuming. And for a damn good reason. As a traditionalist, his removal of the rod was a very taboo gesture in itself. And more and more, she was starting to feel as if whatever she had been dragged into would be even worse than mere theft. "What is going on?" she asked, trying her best to maintain a relatively calm and collected composure, though the sight of the Rod made it much easier said than done to go through with.</s>

They had done it; they had really done it. The shadows had finally broken free and taken over the meta-world. They knew that there was a way from their world into what people called the real world, and that they were nothing more than games for amusement for the outside world. The shadows knew there were very special women in the meta-world who held the keys to breaking out and getting to the real world. "Sire," one of the shadow's minions said, "We have them and are bringing them down to the cells to be processed." Kafei nodded. "Well then, do what you must to get the information out of them." Down in the cells of what once used to be Princess Zelda's castle, three beautiful women were being held captive. Princess Zelda and Princess Peach were both tied to each other and gagged with each other's panties, while Samus Aran had to be chained to the wall after being stripped of her power suit and left only in her tight Zero Suit. "There we go," one of the shadow's minions said. "I don't think you'll be a problem anymore." A few of the Twilight Interloper soldiers looked at Zelda and grinned. "Look good now," one of them said. "I bet we're going to have lots of fun."

Peach and Zelda were releasing muffled sounds as they were gagged with each other's panties. Although it was utterly disgusting, there were more important matters at hand, such as how they had been all captured so easily. Princess Peach had already started to have tears swell in her eyes while Zelda continued to struggle against the bonds that held them together. Zelda was a more feisty one while Peach was rather sensitive. Meanwhile, Samus sent a cold glare at one of the Twilight Soldiers, keeping a calm facade with a sharp gaze as she didn't care if she was stripped down to her Zero Suit. She believed that she just had to find a way to be released before she could easily outdo these soldiers with her natural skill. "Do you think you've already won?" Samus asked coldly, glancing at the two princesses. "Don't underestimate us," Zelda said, trying to keep up her bravado despite being gagged. "All three of us could easily handle pathetic things like you." How high all of their hopes were at the time. And how easily they could be whittled down to nothing.</s>

Winter's tan ears lay back against her head at the sudden chop of an ax striking the wood block and the wet sound of a head rolling away from the chopping block. She wasn't sure who the storm cloaks were, but they evidently managed to piss off the imperials... something she was quite happy to see, actually. Thankfully, her own fate kept her off the chopping block, though her situation was not much better. She was caught crossing the border a day ago and brought to this camp. The imperials had planted some skooma in her gear and gone on a long rant about the punishment for smuggling. They ignored her denials and offered the Khajiit woman a choice: execution or aiding the garrison situated here in some way. She rathered liked her dark stripey head and brown mane to remain attached to her body, so she agreed with the latter, of course, not knowing what they meant by assisting. Turns out her assistance was being stripped down to just her tan fur, placed in stocks with her tail pulled up and bound to her back, with her ass and pussy on display and for the use of any men in the fort who wanted a go with a exotic female on their break. Some damn moral booster it seemed. One that a number of them had seemed happy to try out. She shifted a little on her paws bound as well and spread wide attached to the base of the stocks. Her cream-colored and coco-striped fur was already a little matted from her job as entertainment, but at least they were a little distracted now and the stocks were in the courtyard of the keep and kept out of sight of the rest of the town.

Rebellion was strong in the hearts of all of Skyrim, torn between two factions. The Imperials from the central land of Cyrodill, home to the royal family of Septim, believed that all of Tamriel was to fall under its boot. Most of Tamriel accepted this as fate, but the proud Nords of Skyrim had other plans. Used to the exhaustion of war, a band of Nords and Nordic supporters known as the Stormcloaks fought back against the tyranny, led by the Jarl of Winterhold Ulfric. Patrols had been set up around the common borders and many times, immigrants and travelers were mistaken as Stormcloak spies. Helgen was a small town on the border of Skyrim that many captives were taken and often put to the block without trial. One notable captive was a young Khajiit woman who was 'found' with skooma on her person. The captain didn't care if it was in fact his skooma that was found on her body, only that it was another head for the basket. However, one of his underlings had come up with an idea. She would be spared in return for giving her body for their entertainment. There was a thunderous boom that echoed through the cloud-ridden sky, a sound that was foreign to most living creatures. A guard walked up behind the young Khajiit and smiled evilly. "You know," he said, "I have never had a cat before." He removed his metal glove and pressed his white skin against her ass. His finger sliding down between her cheeks to tease both exposed holes. "But my father always told me to try new things."</s>

This is it, Makiel thought, as the Fiend before him stumbled and staggered from numerous accumulated wounds. The Celestial warrior brandished his holy flaming sword to blanket the corpulent nalfeshnee demon with another sheet of fire--it would not actually do much against the nalfeshnee unless the holy power of the sword was biting into the demon's flesh at the same time, but it didn't need to. Infuriated over yet another wave of fire from his hated adversary, the demon took his attention yet again off the four adventurers assisting Makiel. Given the clear opening, they struck as one; a warrior, an archer, a spellslinger, and a holy man all unleashed a simultaneous assault on the demon from the sides and behind the incredibly resilient, but finally defeated fiend. After the lengthy battle of attrition, the once-proud noble of the brutal Abyssal hierarchy stumbled and fell to his knees, bleeding from countless wounds. The archon of pale-blue skin and blood-red hair folded his crimson-feathered wings against his back and turned down his vengeful aura of power, reducing the brilliant light his body was putting out as he began to walk towards the gasping fiend, gazing intensely with his solid-gold-colored eyes. "Deth'Nar of the Skullhill!" Makiel boomed with a voice born of the heavens. "Your army has been crushed, your plot has failed, and you have met your match! If you surrender now, even one such as yourself may be shown mer--" The obese demon shrieked in unmitigated rage and lunged for Makiel with a speed belied by his mass. But there was a flash of light even faster than him, and the demon halted in front of Makiel, whose arm was fully outstreched, with his angel-forged sword extended. Deth'Nar's head fell to the ground, and his body collapsed after him. Makiel allowed himself a small sigh of victory. In truth, he only said the words he did as a formality. As an avenger archon, he never really wanted a Fiend to surrender, but the Fiends never wanted to either, so it worked out well for him. Still, he was called to the Ministry of Temperance every now and then to ensure that his intentions always remained pure; if he ever pursued the ultimate justice too far and strayed from the ideals of orderly retribution that defined the warriors of the Celestial archons, his heart could become tainted. So he always repeated the words, and never slew a foe unless it was in combat, or if the sentence had already been formally decreed. Additionally, Makiel couldn't help but feeling a small amount of frustration with the sheer tenacity of the nalfeshnee, towards the end. Had Makiel been alone, he wasn't sure he could have bested this demon. For an awfully long time, the demon had weathered the sheer punishment the archon and the mortals together had heaped upon him and refused to fall. It was actually fortunate they had been working together; the nalfeshnee had focused almost exclusively on Makiel--the despised adversary from the Upper Planes--and ignored the mortals, allowing the damage to accumulate and keeping him from slaying one of the mortals until the Fiend's unnatural fortitude failed him. The four adventurers gathered near Makiel and the fallen demon, and they congratulated each other and began to heal their wounds with potions while they also thanked Makiel for his assistance. Makiel looked them all over and smiled upon them. "You have done well, mortals. Today you have served a just cause and ended a great threat. Know that the heavens are grateful that you have stopped this incursion into the realm of the Material, as every victory against the Fiends is counted." He then turned to the holy man, an elf in silver-laced vestments, who held his holy symbol close to himself as he looked up at Makiel and softly murmured prayers of thankfulness. "The spell you have used to Call me here will last for several more hours still, which is more than enough time for us all to finish searching this unholy fortress from top to bottom and cleanse it of any remaining dens of evil that may have escaped notice." Makiel declared. The mortals nodded at him, and split into two groups to take two different passageways, while Makiel himself took a third. In a particular room of the fortress, a quiet room of bare stone, a scuffling of feet could be heard from outside the door followed by some soft clicks and clatters from what must have been the door's lock. It wasn't opening right away though, and continued to quietly clatter around, as if being jiggled. Was someone...picking the lock? There was then a very loud click as the bolt slid open, then a creaking sound as the door swung in, letting light into the room around two silhouettes, one tall and one short. As the light fell across the lone individual occupying the room, bound by rune-inscribed chains, there were two exclamations of alarm and suddenly the smaller figure's hands were each surrounded by a nimbus of glowing light, and was cupping pulsating 'spheres' of air-shimmering distortions in each hand. The glow illuminated the two figures for the room's inhabitant; the shorter one was a halfling garbed in loose purple robes, while the taller one was an unusually thin and spry half-orc dressed in a leather vagabond's outfit, who also held out a drawn shortbow that shimmered in the light with enchantments, aimed straight at the imprisoned being. The two mortals stared wide-eyed at the being, but did not unleash any attacks yet. After a moment, they seemed confused. "It's...chained up?" The half-orc said under his breath, though said being's excellent hearing allowed her to catch what they were saying to each other. "This is...very strange...it is a demon, we should probably just kill it, but...why would they imprison one of their own?" "Maybe it's dangerous enough to be chained up for a reason." "...Go get Makiel. He'll know what to do. I'll stay here and keep an eye out." The half-orc nodded to his companion, then turned and sprinted back out the door and down the hall. The halfling stood in the doorway, with his arms still outstretched and hands ready to unleash elemental wrath in an instant as he stared at the prisoner: A succubus demon.

This entire situation was unfair. She had put in her time. Did all the things asked of her in the Abyss. Two centuries of hard work, torturing souls that meant absolutely nothing to her. Two whole centuries and this is where Kylyla found herself. Locked in a dirty stone room and chained to a wall. Not that she didn't find it extremely hot, but she wasn't even being put to good use. That fact was appalling and frankly unacceptable. Deth'nar had promised her a position at his side a year ago. Sure, he had offered it to others as well. Ky beat her greedy competition down though. She earned that spot. Maybe she was planning to usurp Deth'nar of his rule over the material plane. Did he honestly expect anything different? She was a demon after all. Not well known for being truthful. She was going to let him have his fun. Let him do all the hard work first. How he had found out was something she had pondered since chained to this wall. Her plan had made it a short four months, or somewhere around there. He left her in here to wither. The bastard nearly got his wish too. She grew weaker by the day. Now she was moments away from meeting her own demise. That was until Ky heard the sounds above. Something, or someone, had broken down the main door. Destroyed the glyphs and spells warding off any that would try to destroy the minor demon. Ky suddenly had hope of escape. She listened to the battle above, for what seemed like hours. While he was simply a minor demon, mortals would be hard pressed to destroy him alone. The booming voice that joined told her the warriors had the assistance of an archon. "This...could be bad," she said to herself. The archon would destroy anything from the Abyss. Her hopes were dashed, just as fast as they were lifted. Deth'nar's fortress grew silent. Indicating he had been defeated. This meant she would soon be seeing the archon herself. Mere moments is all she had now. Beyond the door to her cell, she heard scampering feet. Imps that managed to hide before were trying to find their way back to the Abyss. They knew their fate just as she did. There was no escape for them though. You needed the means and power to open a door. They possessed none of this. The succubus smiled to herself at their inevitable demise. Ky could hear the slow and cautious foot steps of two people. They cut down any Imp that crossed their path. She found it maddening, the pace in which they moved. "Just hurry if you're going to kill me," she said softly. Watching the door in annoyed anticipation. She could almost hear the ticking of a clock as the seconds passed by. Then they were at her door. Not the celestial being, she could tell by their scent alone. They were of a pure variety. Maybe she could have just a few moments of fun before her end. The door swung open after the bolt clicked. The sound echoing into the stone room. Her head hung on her shoulders. Long white locks cascaded over her ample chest. Black leathery wings laid listless on either side of her. The spaded black tail wrapped around one porcelain hued thigh and calf. Right now she posed no threat. She looked to weak to even move. Given half the chance though she would have drained them of every ounce of energy. Ky watched them approach silently from hooded eyes. Until one decided to leave and find assistance. Leaving the halfling alone. A much easier task to seduce just one. She didn't have the energy to spare on two. "Clearly I am no threat to you halfling. You have found me at quite a disadvantage. Surely, you can put those away" Lifting her head slowly, revealing violet eyes that searched his form. "Why don't you come closer? Let me look upon the strong warrior that brings my end." Raising her hand, she crooked one clawed finger at him. Her face becoming lustful as she continued to speak. "Your companion has left. Don't you want to touch me?" Her tail snaked it's way off her leg. Extending out towards his feet. She just needed him to take two steps closer. "I am too weak to hurt you. You can do whatever you wish with my body."</s>

It had been a simple exchange really; he offered them shelter, water, and food in return for their bodies. Michael was an American working in Japan when the outbreak happened. He had always been a well-prepared man, and he had a secured bunker with clean water, a small farm, and it was isolated and easily defended. Saeko and Rei stumbled upon his location after they got separated from their group. He offered them the deal and they accepted once they realized just how secure his location was. It worked out well for all of them, and now the girls lived lives where they didn't have to worry about their safety. In return, Michael now had his massive cock buried inside Rei's pussy. He fucked her wherever, whenever, and however he pleased. He decided to fuck Rei this morning after she made breakfast. Saeko was still asleep, but that was fine for now. He had Rei pressed up against the wall, with his back slamming into it as his cock pressed up against her cervix. She was completely nude, as he required them to be at all times.

Rei and Saeko had gotten separated from the group after the outbreak, having traveled for days upon days before finding a place that seemed great. They were given a deal they couldn't refuse. Rei was now against the wall, Michael's cock buried deep inside of her as she had felt it hit her cervix, causing her to moan out loudly. Saeko was still asleep, which was alright because Rei needed this moment alone with Michael. She tried to keep her stance up while holding on to what she could as he went full force into her.</s>

The Story of Lu Bu, his role in tyranny, fall to faux humility and rise to power. Dong Zhuo was a name that was known across Han Dynasty. He was a politician, and unfortunately like a lot of politicians - he was a tyrant. A tyrannical leader who would burn cities to the ground in purpose of furthering his name and his renown. It was successful, since the year 189 he had been the Grand Councilor, the highest position in the Imperial Chinese Government. His found power didn't change him however, he didn't grow humble with his power just more desperate to keep hold of it, to keep hold of what he'd 'earned', rather, what those around him had earned. Dong Zhuo only surrounded himself with the best, it was a sure fire way to assume power. A term that would be coined over a thousand years later of gunboat diplomacy would be a term that could be used to describe the tyrant. Dong Zhuo would go as far as fostering the most powerful. Early in the year 190, Lu Bu, the strongest warrior in all the Han Empire had found himself betraying and murdering the minor warlord he served under and defecting to Dong Zhuo's central government. Lu Bu was interested in serving under someone as powerful as Dong Zhuo, rather than leaving himself to fester under the command of a minor warlord. While he wasn't impressed by Dong Zhuo's generals or plans, he certainly did find himself happy to be within a force powerful enough to contest any other in the Han Dynasty. It had been a year now, since he'd joined with Dong Zhuo after killing his former mentor, and Dong Zhuo's tyranny had not gone unnoticed in the land of the Han Dynasty. Yaun Shao, one of the major warlords in China had taken a notice to Dong Zhuo's tyranny and monopoly of the central government. Dong Zhuo played the dirty game, the emperor who'd served before Dong had even ascended to the role of Grand Councilor had been deposed and replaced with a puppet, and Yaun Shao wasn't blind, he'd noticed this change in the monarchy and was forming a coalition to deal with Dong Zhuo's iron fist rule over the Han Dynasty. Wang Yun's residence, six months before the death of Dong Zhuo. The sound was distinct in the mostly empty wooden room, the sound of liquid being poured into wooden cups as Wang Yun leaned across the table first to fill Lu Bu's cup with hot steaming herbal tea, before pouring himself a cup and lifting it to his lips. The cup returned to the small wooden table between the two men as Wang perused Lu Bu's appearance. The young man, at least in comparison to Wang, sat with one foot placed on the ground, knee by his face as he looked down at the steaming cup with a look of confusion..? No not quite right, deep thought on his face. Wang did not say anything, he just observed. He was a scholar, a politician if you must. Someone of similar import to Dong Zhuo, Lu Bu's adoptive father, in the Han Dynasty. He'd invited Lu Bu over to his residence this evening to start sowing the seeds of his careful thought out plan to bring down Dong Zhuo and restore some decency to the hierarchy of the Han Dynasty. Moments passed like minutes in the empty silence of the room. Lu Bu sat in a very distinct position, intentional so he could spring to his feet at a moment's notice should the need occur. In front of him sat the old man who'd called him here. The man was in his fifties, older even than Dong Zhuo. Lu had been there for five minutes now and only pleasantries had been exchanged between the two men. He was getting impatient; the tapping of his foot showed that. "What have you called me here for?" Lu Bu finally questioned the man, looking up from the steaming drink that Wang Yun had offered him. Wang had poured the drink from a single porcelain tea cup and poured himself one too. He'd drunk first, not noticeable to anyone who didn't care but something very important as it was Wang's way of saying 'I'm not trying to poison you.' The reason for the meeting was unknown to Lu Bu, and there was no solid ground for Wang to have even held the meeting in the first place. It was all just a small seed in the field that Wang needed to plant to bring down Dong Zhuo. "How does serving under Dong suit you? Master Lu Bu." Wang said looking up at the young man his hands cozy around the warm wooden cup that held his tea. "I get to fight," Lu Bu said, clenching his fist on his thigh as he moved from an almost crouched position into a cross-legged sitting position, leaning towards Wang Yun. "You should know I didn't come here for small talk; I came here to find out what you want and if you're going to play politicking games, I have no interest." Lu Bu pushed back against the small table before turning towards the door. Wang lifted a hand and tutted. "My apologies, Master Lu Bu. I of course do not mean to waste your time." Wang waited until he could see that Lu Bu was still interested. "Please," he said, gesturing to the cushion. "Sit." A slight smirk and smile appeared on his face as Lu Bu moved back to the small cushion he had been sitting on before, and sat down again. "I merely wanted to offer you a drink first before we discussed anything of import," Wang said, taking another sip from his cup. He let out a relieved sigh as he placed it back down on the wood. "But I see that tea is not your thing, of course not." Wang bowed his head slightly almost in apology. His acting was good; Lu Bu wouldn't suspect a thing. Wang snapped his fingers, giving the command for wine. The most important piece in the plan Wang Yun has conceived to bring down Dong Zhuo: a simple Song girl he had raised in his household like a daughter.

Men fought their battles in blood-soaked fields, and embattled courts. They fought with swords and spears and shields. Women fought with silks, ribbons and fans. Her battlefield was the bedroom. Her tactics were the evocative flick of her wrist, the sensuous twisting and twirling of her body, and the purposeful exposure of skin, just hinting at what lie under the color costumes she wore. Some might call her methods cowardly, or lacking in strength. They were not familiar with the strength of women. Standing in the hallway, Diao Chan prepared for battle. Tonight her weapon was a jug of wine, and her opponent was the mighty Lu Bu. It was a terrifying prospect for anyone, to have to face the mighty warrior in combat, but, in this arena, Diao could claim more experience and expertise than her opponent. She was waiting for a signal from her adopted father, and general in this case, and she had just received it. Possessing a supple dancer's body, strength hidden beneath the silky soft skin, she moved gracefully about the room, stepping lightly on delicate feet. Eyes down, she approached Lu Bu. She had heard his praises, of course. It was impossible to avoid the tales of his renown. Still, she was shocked by his stature. Nevertheless, she could not falter now. She bowed low before the man, pouring his wine on her knees, holding the cup in two hands up to him. If it please you, Master Lu Bu, she offered, her voice like freshly spun silk. She brought her eyes up to meet his now, the soft honey colored irises filled with warmth as she smiled. I don't believe you have met my adopted daughter, Wang Yun started, as Diao sat on her knees before the warrior, Diao Chan, the loveliest dancer and singer in the province. My foster father is too generous, Diao rebuked, looking down at her skirt demurely. She smoothed out a length of silk, before meeting Lu Bu gaze once more, I only hope I can please the Emperor, and his court. She will be traveling to the Imperial Court, Wang Yun explained, sipping at his own cup of wine, I do hope I can count on you to keep an eye on her?</s>

Lorgar, Primarch of the World Eaters Legion stared down at the beauty of Old Terra, otherwise known as Earth. He was a servant of Chaos, a corrupting force that strove to devour and consume all living things until they were corrupted. Somehow, Lorgar and a handful of his closest Space Marines had found themselves thrown back in time to quite the early history of the homeworld of Humanity. To see Old Terra so pure and ripe for corruption filled Lorgar with a desire like that of an unquenchable thirst...a pure desire to ravage and taint. Still it was only him and his few Space Marines at the moment, and despite their power and near demi-god like abilities, they could not take on the entire population of Earth combined. Furthermore, Lorgar had seemed to have lost his connection to the Warp for now, leaving him unable to summon the Chaos Demons that would allow for the easy conquest and corruption of the planet. So for now, they planned a different way of conquest...one that was subtle and undetectable. He and his men would hunt down the champions of the planet and corrupt them from within...they would then have a much easier time corrupting all the denizens of the planet. Thus it was that they had found such champions and spirited her away to their flagship orbiting above the planet, its invisibility cloak active to avoid detection. She was suspended in midair with the power of Chaos, her wrists and ankles shackled with invisible bounds that were unbreakable. She was suspended to look out of the bridge of the dark and empty ship, the glow of the sun and the beauty of Earth present before her. "Beautiful, isn't? The glory of Old Terra?" Lorgar spoke, his voice eloquent and almost divine as he stepped forward from behind her. He removed his helmet to reveal a scarred but still beautiful face, with tanned skin, brown hair, and crew cut brown hair. For even in his corruption, he still bore the beauty of his original creator. "To think that such a beautiful woman would be a champion of the people...they are unworthy of your protection. You should be a trophy for my men instead." He chuckled as he reached out, his large and calloused hand groping at one of her breasts underneath her sailor uniform which still remained on her, but in tatters. His tongue emerged from his mouth and licked up her smooth and exposed neck up to her cheek. He seemed to let out a contented sigh, almost like he was tasting her...sampling her. "Yes...you will make a fine addition to our cause." He nibbled on her ear as he groped her breast harder now. Already, she could feel a strange sensation eating at her, the corrupting power of Chaos working on her, trying to influence her mind and desires; it was weak now, but the longer she remained, the stronger it would become.

Save the princess! Rei! Rei!!! REI!!! Usagi escaped. Ami and Minako and Makoto escaped. As long as her friends were safe, there was hope. Still, bound within the strange spaceship, overlooking the sun and Earth, alone with the fearsome leader of the monsters that attacked, Rei was scared. She may have been the reincarnated soul of an ancient sailor guardian, but she was also a sixteen year old girl. A sixteen year girl who had barely been further than kissing boys, and yet, she knew this would go far further than kissing. Already going further, as his rough hands groped her breasts. You may possess my body, but you will never possess my mind! Rei growled, defiant as she could be, in her given situation. The difference between them was staggering. Him, this large brute of a man, tan skin and short hair. Herself, a petite woman, with slender curves, long black hair and violet eyes. Her sailor fuku, which already covered very little, covered even less now that it was torn in places. Long lean legs were covered in scrapes and bruises, and she was still wearing her trademark red stilettos which made her costume seem sexy and ornamental. Wincing as his tongue traveled along her body. She could endure. She would endure. Her friends would find a way to overcome this evil, and she could go back to being a normal teenaged girl. Not that she was ever normal. All she could do now was bite her lip and clench her eyes shut, as this man prepared to have his way with her.</s>

In the desert kingdom of Sarasaland lived a princess different than those in the Mushroom world. Unlike Peach and Rosalina who enjoyed a cup of tea early in the noon, Daisy was the one that liked to practice sports. It was going to be a typical day and today she decided to work on her soccer skills in the park next to a jungle forest. After donning her trademark striker outfit, Daisy bolted out the castle door. Of course none of the toads wanted to accompany her given the destructive habits Daisy was capable of with a soccer ball so she went out alone. In one of her warm-up practices, the princess kicked the ball so high it landed in the middle of the forest. She immediately darted into the jungle not knowing she was going to get lost. After running through and searching in vain, Daisy slumped against a palm tree sighing. "Well geez, where did it go? Shoot, I really gotta work on my kicks." she mumbled rubbing her chin. Decided not to waste the day, she got up and walked around a bit only to stop and realize "Oh heck, which way back to the park?" she wondered scratching her head like a dumbfounded idiot. Clearly she was lost yet was not alone. Stalkers followed the helpless Daisy from a distance and would soon make a strike when the opportunity was right.

A net suddenly dropped from the trees above her, entangling the princess. "Yes! Daddy will definitely let me go shopping after this!" Wendy walked out from the trees with a grin, her plump C-cups bobbing as she strutted out, her hands on her curvy hips. "Oh dammit, you aren't peach are you?" She pouted. "Well maybe I can hold you for ransom and go shopping with that." She muttered, walking slowly around Daisy. "So, which kingdom are you from anyway?"</s>

Life aboard the Normandy was better than most ships, it was a highly advanced model with many amenities that allowed for a comfortable living experience for all those aboard. There was also funding which gave the crew some of the finer things, and thus for the most part people were happy with their lot aboard the ship in space. However, that wasn't true of everyone. The high stress lifestyle caused a great deal of tension between many of the crew members, and with a mix of aliens and Cerberus operatives, two groups who ordinarily didn't mix, only more stress compounded. Miranda Lawson was one such crew member, someone who found her role quite stressful, though nobody would ever know it by looking at her; Miranda never looked anything more than calm and controlled. In fact, Miranda was a control freak and expected everything to go the way she wanted it to, which was generally the right way, at least to most people, and she generally got her way. One reason was her personality: She was highly intelligent, confident, and quite cold in order to maintain the superior image she had worked so damn hard to achieve. So while she found her role aboard the ship high-stress, she created the same feeling for many of the other people aboard the ship. One such person, and perhaps the person most disposed to blowing up in the presence of the Operative, was Jack, Jacqueline Nought. She was an individual that was more prone to blow up than anyone else, she hated Miranda, or at least seemed to, and with a decent mix of good reasons and nonsense. Jack by all accounts had a right to hate Cerberus; the organization had turned her from an innocent child into what she was today: Subject Zero, a name nobody dared call her but which summed up what had been done to her quite well. Jack had been put through countless unethical tests and trials to turn her into a killing machine, to advance her biotic ability and to twist and tear at every emotional pillar she stood upon. So when she exploded or got upset with Miranda there was little that could be done by anyone on the ship, especially with Miranda sticking to a firm policy that Cerberus was not at fault and that rogue scientists ruined her life; nobody could really be sure what was true. Their fights had caused much turmoil on the ship and there wasn't a moment where one of them wasn't ready to go for the other person's throat. Then again they had different approaches; Jack yelling and screaming while Miranda remained calm even in the midst of their arguments, which only served to further infuriate Jack most of the time. One such example of this was earlier that day when Jack busted into Miranda's office and demanded more than she had a right to, which by the end had turned into a biotic standoff where Miranda did what she always did - denied and refused to put fault on Cerberus. In the end it was Shepard who ended it but it was the worst of all the fights between Jack and Miranda and had Miranda frustrated beyond belief. For Miranda, frustration wasn't something to be shown in front of others; only in rare moments did she let any real emotion seep through and she had never truly relaxed with another person, ever. Sure there were moments where she would be more genuine than others but nothing else even close to having her guard down. So it wasn't until Jack had been done away with and Shepard left that she locked her door and went over to collapse in her chair. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose and a small growl of frustration escaped her lips. Shepard had scolded her before leaving, given her a little 'Would it be so bad to admit Cerberus fucked up?' before leaving her to her own thoughts. Miranda couldn't rebuke; there was no much to say when she had answers nobody else did, but her loyalties were to Cerberus and Jack was not someone she gave a damn about. Then again, the stress wasn't all Jack's fault; Miranda's job brought with it enough stress and responsibility to be manageable by only her alone, Miranda's superior genes and natural abilities making her solely capable of doing so much work for both Shepard and the crew as well as the work she was responsible for on command of The Illusive Man. Besides Miranda herself caused much of her stress and friction all on her own. She hadn't been with another person since before arriving on the Normandy, she hadn't even pleasured herself since arriving, and while she had grown accustomed to having no special someone it was a hindrance when combined with all the other stress in her life. That translated into cocky and sarcastic statements, antagonizing of her favorite punching bag Jack, and a general harshness that made her few to no friends aboard the ship. After a few moments Miranda arose from her chair, a huff escaping her lips as she straightened herself out, the short moment of unwinding being coiled back up as she made sure she looked presentable, which was more aptly defined as perfect, and went back towards the door. She still had things to do, she had to go see a few Cerberus crew members for updates and then she had the training Shepard had made mandatory, something she never really enjoyed, especially since she had yet to lose against any of the opponents Shepard had pit her against, in fact nobody had even come close. At least it gave her a chance to stroke her own ego and it would be a distraction from all of the compiled shit she had to deal with. Yes, she just had to finish a few more things and she could go get in some exercise before going back to her room for a bit.

Save your anger for the Collectors. That sentence had become Jack's mantra ever since her fight with the Illusive Man's precious little lap dog. Fucking Miranda Lawson! Just the thought of the Operative made Jack clench her fists and tremble in poorly contained rage. All she wanted was an apology- out of the bitch. Not even an apology really, just an admittance! For someone from Cerberus to accept responsibility, to actually say that what had happened to her and all those other kids had been horrifyingly wrong. And what does the Ceberus bitch do? Turn around and tell her it wasn't really Cerberus. Fuck that noise! Cerberus facility, Cerberus uniforms, Cerberus funding to start it up; don't tell her it wasn't fucking Cerberus!! HRAAAGGGGHHHH!!! Jack roared as she launched a powerful biotically charged punch into the wall of the bulkhead. Save your anger for the Collectors. Shepard's words helped her calm down- sorta. In reality, it just made another sentence bounce around her head: Don't be late for PT, Jack! The Commander's reminder from earlier this morning redirected her anger towards irritation. Yeah, she was late to everything, so what? Why be in a hurry to go die? Jack sighed, hopping up off her cot, her boots making a soft thud as she hit the grating. She stretched out her thin, wiry frame and took a deep breath. There, she felt a little better. Maybe she wouldn't kill anyone on her way down to the Hangar Bay for her scheduled sparring session. Hopefully she wouldn't run into Miranda. It was so hard to resist punching the Operative in the face whenever she had to lay eyes on that woman's insufferably cocky smirk. God, if she had to watch that genetically engineered ass alluringly sway back and forth one more damn time... This was the problem with the Normandy: it's like a prison. It's a small space, crammed with a bunch of bodies belonging to other fucked up people that you don't want to sleep with because they're probably crazier than you are. But they're badasses (and everyone wants to fuck the badass, no one wants to sleep with the nice guy), some of them are incredibly attractive (like Ms. Perfect Tits Lawson). So now Jack was caught up in this weird place where she didn't know if she'd one day want to get Miranda screaming in agony or ecstasy. As Jack walked through Engineering to get to the elevator, she couldn't help but think that equating the Normandy to prison was especially true today. The energy in the halls felt different - it was like right before the inmates start rioting. There's a sort of strange buzzing of energy in the air, but no one is saying anything. Everyone is exchanging sidelong glances, like they know something big was about to happen. But she wasn't part of that - everyone, and she wasn't part of it - which meant that she was the guard. Ah fuck! Something was going to happen and she didn't know what it was. She pushed the button for the Hangar Bay again, cursing the elevator for how slow it moved. When it finally stopped on her floor, she began looking for Shepard. The Commander would know why the crewmembers aboard the ship were giving her funny looks and whispering after she passed them, like something big was about to happen. Though she didn't find Shepard. At least not before she found the schedule for today's PT. "FUCK!" Jack yelped as soon as she got down to the bottom of the page, skipping through all that exercise crap and finding the part that listed their sparring partners..What the fuck is this shit?! She couldn't stand Miranda. She hated- Miranda. And now she was going to have to spar with her?! Sparring meant she wasn't allowed to kill or maim! (Rules that were imposed by Shepard that neither her nor Grunt were happy about) How the hell was she supposed to not smear blood all over the walls with Miranda as her opponent?! "I see you've figured out who your partner for the day is," Shepard smiled, appearing out of nowhere behind a very frustrated looking Jack. This is bullshit. Jack growled, rounding on the Commander. Shepard didn't even bat an eye as Jack huffed and puffed in her fury. Kasumi, Tali, Garrus, even Shepard herself (as annoying as she was) didn't incur Jack's anger like Miranda did. No, it's not. You both have faced everyone else, it's time to spar against each other. And-, you both are strong biotics. As Jack opened her mouth to protest, Shepard cut in again. -AND- you need to learn control. You're an amazing biotic, Jack, there's no doubt about that. You fight with your instincts and have raw power. But Miranda has tempered that power, she's technically refined, her moves are precise, perfectly executed; you could really learn something from her. So yes, she is your sparring partner today. And no, this is not open for negotiation. Shepard finished, her voice firm. Sometimes, she felt like she was talking to a teenager though she supposed, between Jack's lack of childhood and all the time the young convict had spent frozen in cryo, she pretty much was. Jack growled as she glared at Shepard. Part of her wanted to keep arguing, but she could sense that she wasn't going to get anywhere. So in an attempt to save face, she turned around and stormed off towards the make-shift sparring ring so that she could wait for her opponent. Well, at least that bitch won't be able to brag about being undefeated anymore.</s>

"It has been two months since Shepherd's death. And while the galaxy mourns in solidarity, it continues to play ignorant to the looming dangers that lay ahead. The Reapers... Though not all mourn. Crime continues to unfold in this large galaxy. Filled with lies, deceit, murder and filth. And no place is there better to find it... Then Omega. When Shepherd died, everyone scattered like the wind. Tali back to her people, Wrex to save his own kind from extinction through the Genophage, Ashley grew in rank within the Systems Alliance and Liara became rather aloof. However, this tale focuses on one man in particular... Garrus could no longer stand the red tape, the corruption and ignorance of C-sec. After Shepherd's fate he... He tried, but as usual he proved a disappointing Turian. Especially to the likes of his father... Or rather, so he thought at least. Feeling he had no other choice but to do things his way, by his rules. Garrus went to the one place where crime was everywhere. Where all you had to do... Was point, then shoot. He became the one thing he despised, the one thing he never thought he'd be. A criminal. But for the right cause. A man with a skill, purpose and the means to make a difference. He became a shadow over Omega. A renegade to most, paragon to others. Regardless of the tales surrounding the mysterious vigilante. He was soon to be known, as their Archangel." "Archangel to base, how's my eye in the sky?" A voice echoed quietly into the air, its source a rather tall figure in blue armor. Armor that showed he was unmistakably once a C-sec officer, further that he could only be a Turian. The Turians correspondence into the secure channel his Communications officer created for their little group was met with silence, however the man on the other end, his 'eye in the sky' didn't need to. Far above the Turians head a small drone appeared, cloaking itself just as quickly as it had shown itself to him. "Good good," he said soberly, "now here's hoping our fresh blood can handle her end of the op." He continued, but there was also noticeable worry in his voice. She was a big girl, she could handle herself and he knew it... But ever since he met her... Helping her with those Mercs. Giving her the protection that Archangel desired to give to every clerk and store owner on Omega... Well... He would lie if it didn't make him feel naturally attached. Even knowing how tough she is, to him she was still that cute, flirty girl who didn't know what she was going to do. How she was ever going to get the Blue suns off her back as a mechanic. But no ordinary mechanic, one with the chops to make a mech, drone, up to par with any corporation and at an efficient price. Helping her wasn't the first time he took the law in his own hands. But it was one of the first times he literally saved a life as Archangel, even more importantly she was one of the first people to make him feel he really can make a difference... The only other women to do that was well... Now dead... With a low groan, echoing with that typical gruff melodic sound his race was known to speak with. The man finished folding his sniper into action. Perched properly in place several floors above the target zone. This was an op that took ball's. Typically they were quieter, taking out all the thugs and taking their cargo for... 'better' use. However today Archangel needed to make a statement. And his little friend down there, her job was to sneak on by and place the explosive charges their Batarian counterpart made on every single arm's crate. Hopefully, things went as planned. Soon, Archangel made eyes on a gunship, swooping onto the dock post haste. Many merc's inside were dropped off, each making their way deeper into the industrial zone. They seemed to have been taking a careful spread, moving their numbers about to scope the area in case of a double cross. Which was wise. However, the people they were buying from were already hastily disposed of by Archangels little killer on the ground. "Ok Eye's in the Sky, do a quick sweep. I have a feeling they are careful enough to think of snipers.... It's kind of cute actually, they already know im the best."As he said so, Garrus pulled back his zoom, scoping the other towering industrial buildings for a sniper's glare. As well as checking the industrial equipment, as most seemed tall enough to create a vantage. "I completed the sweep Archangel, there's three out there. One directly adjacent to you, sixty eight meters to your left, another eighty nine meters to your right. The last is a hundred or so meters in front, but behind the industrial equipment. Might be a hard shot."With a cocky grin under his helmet, Archangel gave out a snicker. "Ha ha, I see them now, Thanks. But try not to be so insulting, I can make any shot and that includes this guy... But best to be on the safe side. Move your drone in on the one a hundred clicks away, I will take out the other two, you go take him out. But only on my signal and Eye, try to be quiet about it . This needs to be synchronized, the second they open up com's we may kiss our friend downstairs a swift good by. She's almost done planting the charges, which means she's still exposed." "Count on me boss! I'll use that new trick she added to the drone."The voice in their communications said, as the drone disappeared once more."Ha... Don't get cocky kid, before she came along you didn't even have a drone.""And look at me now Archangel?! I'm actually useful for a change. Instead of sitting on my ass scrambling frequencies."Garrus was gonna talk back but, he ate his words. As much as he would like to tease the kid, it wouldn't have been in good taste. After all, in his condition he is allowed to take his victories where and when he can find him."I got ya Eye, now focus on the mission."Eye, a shorter way of saying the full thing. Code names were an important part of being in this group, it kept your real identity safe from the very bad people they fucked with. It wasn't the plan at first but, as people called him Archangel and... While it began to stick on him... Well, the idea was a good one. Even if a bit cheesy. And when it came down to it, Archangel was big on giving them their nick names himself. Letting his team earn their own code through hard work, respect and appreciation. In 'Eye's case well, he was a man of little use outside his computers and Omnitool. A cripple, lost his leg's when the leader of the Blood Pack kicked him in the face and stepped on his spine during a shoot out... Poor Eye was just... In the way. A passerby, just trying to do his job. He wanted to help with this war on crime despite the loss of his leg's. And he did just that. Using his skill's to focuss efforts on communications, hacking and logging their collected data. Used to be that he would simply hack into surveilance feed's and now recently, he even has drones to scout out for them. A useful job that earned him the title of Eye in The sky. But regrettably, it was a mouthful. So most of the time, he was just called Eye. Turning to his left, Archangel took a deep breath. Prepping the shot. In his mind's eye, he also planned ahead on his next target. The man now in his sight was an easy kill, it was an even shot straight across. Little obstruction, some wind from industrial fans. The man to his right, well, he was slightly tougher. About a meter lower than his current position and with the nearby turbines, wind would likely sway his bullet 3 or so inches to the left. Closing his eyes for a moment, Archangel began to slowly release his breath. Time froze, and in that split second all his training kicked in."Now!" He called out, as he fired a shot right between the first sniper's eyes. The poor assari flew back against the wall. With quick, military precision Archangel flipped around, unloading his thermal clip and injecting a new one just in time as he veered his sniper exactly seven 3 inches from the right of his target's position. Quickly, he pulled the trigger, the propelling shrapnel veering as expected and right into the Salarian's throat! Now it was up to that little drone, looking forward, Archangel gave a sigh of relief. The drone quickly dispatched the human with a electrical prod, set on a lethal voltage."Wow, Garrus. You never cease to amaze," the man on the other end said, a compliment made that much sweeter by the Eye's Austrian accent. As Eye put his drone back into cloak, Garrus spoke with obvious pride. However, slightly annoyed as well."Ya ya, don't feed my ego so much. A certain Batarian we know would probably want to knock your ass off that chair if he heard it. But, since I like the praise I will forgive you for saying my real name on com's. Remember Eye in The Sky, code names. It... It keeps us all safe. Secure com's is like what you human's call a red hearing, it doesn't always mean secure." "Oh! Ha ha, yes right 'Archangel.' I got it. And uh... I believe we humans call it a red haring,"The man on the other end said. A slight gruff laugh escaped Garrus's lips, "Oh, I see. Red Haring. I'll have to jot that down on my omnitool next chance I get. You humans have strange sayings, however many of them fit in many situations."In all the excitement, Garrus barely realized what was going on below. The Turian quickly panicked as the mercs went from a slow crawl to creating hasty positions. They couldn't have heard his shots, they were properly suppressed and the distance was too great... unless... "Shit, those snipers were on timed communications!"The Turian proclaimed as he folded down his sniper rifle. Snapping it into place on his armor, he quickly pulled out his assault rifle, preparing to make a very bold jump. What do you mean!?"The voice said in coms in a frightened tone. It means they were supposed to send a signal every few minutes!"Choosing to leave it at that, Garrus was certain their Eye in The Sky got the idea. The Turian now sprinting to jump off his balcony. Landing just a few meters below, Garrus narrowly caught his feet onto the industrial equipment. Quickly sprinting down the narrow machinery as his quick way back down. "The op's a bust, get out of there!"Garrus called out in an open comms channel. Hoping beyond hope it got to her in time. Before he knew it, the Blue Suns were firing up on him. The vigilante now in a compromised position with very little cover. However, fortune favored the bold and Garrus didn't lack for bravery. Nor the ignorance it brings! He continued his long sprint down, firing back at his attackers with controlled, well-placed bursts. Quite a few were driven back into cover, but another few weren't so lucky. The Turian shooting down at least three. As he reached a friendly distance from the ground, Garrus stopped running, sliding slightly as he made a quick drop down. Falling at least ten feet right smack dab on top of a squishy little Salarian. "Ill take that," he said, as he ripped the assault rifle right out of his hands. Putting a few holes in him before the guy knew what even happened. With the Salarian's assault rifle, Garrus held one in either hand, seeing as he didn't have very much thermal clip's to spare. He could have sworn there was a movie hero on Earth that did this. Someone named... John Rainbow? Had to be something like that. Regardless, he was in full adrenaline mode. His training and experience culminating together as he pushed on. "Keep that drone out of sight and keep in contact," he said to Eve, "I want you to keep track of their movements and ordnance." Taking cover with both assault rifles, he could see her... Nyria. Safe, sound, already shooting back more than likely. 'At a girl,' he thought as he moved closer to cover. Well, he tried his best but. Turians were never too good at taking cover. The best most can do is stand awkwardly behind tall surfaces. But hey, it did the trick. She was not very far away now. And... Well, it seemed she got a lot of the merchandise well and ready to blow. "Glad to see I didn't get you killed," he yelled out, laughing only to disguise his distress. "I don't know what these guys thought they were getting into. But now they gone and done it.... They trapped themselves here, with us. What do ya say? Ready to fight your way out?"

If you had asked Nyriaka Aeterius, or more commonly known as Artemis around Omega, that she would be dodging bullets while planting bombs onto illegal goods, she would have laughed and maybe shut the door in your face. But here she was; dodging bullets while planting bombs onto illegal goods. Strange how the fates might take someone, but perhaps it wasn't so strange, if there was a handsome face to beckon her along the path of now becoming a "righteous" mercenary - as if there was anyone on Omega who could best Archangel. It was pretty ridiculous how easily the turian rebel honestly suckered her into joining him, risking her life directly on the line in the face of the battlefield. And to be honest, Nyriaka hardly regretted it one bit. She had her content fun tinkering with her various drones and mechs back in her shop (which was now conveniently trashed and destroyed by the Blood Pack after she literally spited them in their faces with Garrus), but she probably would have never felt as alive as she did now - rewiring make-shift explosives with a shaky adrenaline-filled laugh under her breath and some of her most precious mechs firing back over her head. Danger! It was something that Nyria had explicitly avoided for so many years while she was on Omega; the utmost reason why she even came to hellhole was the sheer abundance of tech that she could work on to repair and upgrade at a far more lucrative price than what she might have gotten back at the Citadel. Keep her head down, maintain a reputable presence, and don't let anyone bother her. But that had become more and more difficult as the years passed and the residents of Omega began to know her for her claimed "magic touch" when it came to all things techy; the gangs wanted her for their own. Imagine how much of an edge they would have over their rivals! The gunships they could fly! The drones they could unleash onto the other gangs! Suddenly, Artemis became a prize to have; not only for her skill, but also for the fact that she was a female turian. Sure, there were asari around, but female turians? Many a male, not only other turians, wanted a piece of that too. They cornered her from all sides, pushing in, threatening, leering until Nyriaka had no other choice; she needed help. And who else was making more rounds and striking more fear into the gangs' hearts than the one and only Archangel? To be honest, she was surprised herself when the gregarious turian agreed so easily to her request, and even more so when he invited her to join his team. But hell, why not? What did she have to lose? Not much, and with that, she would gain a whole lot of protection and company at a desirable male's eye too. The last few years had been... Admittedly lonely, refuting slimy requests from the knuckle-headed turians and other various males around Omega practically all the time. Yet, they still kept coming, no matter how much she lashed her sarcastic tongue at them. And here, they also still continued to come, just in a different manner. They weren't out for her this time, they were simply out for blood. Nyriaka figured that they hadn't seen her yet, didn't know that she was fully integrated into Garrus' team, and she would rather like to keep it that way. It was when she had just finished wiring together the last explosive, shoving it deep between two crates full of red sand that the female turian could hear the slow and steady shots as it rang out nearby, only to result of gurgled screams and falls of limp bodies onto the ground. That would be no one else besides Archangel. Letting a cheeky smug grin come over her expression in satisfaction of her work well-done, she made her first rookie mistake - standing up from her cover. Almost immediately, a shout came up and several bullets came at where she just was as the engineer quickly ducked down again and winced; an inch higher and they might have just taken off one of her horns. "Artemis to base, Artemis to Archangel, they've spotted my position. All explosives rigged. Headed back-" she started, only to be cut off as her cover was once again peppered with wild shots, forcing Nyriaka to keep on moving - more like crawling undignifiedly to another pile of crates. One of her sentry mechs fell, getting a low hiss from the engineer as she finally pulled the sub-machine gun from the holster on her armor's back; that was one of her best mechs and it just went down like that! Shame. There was no time for her to say anything else on the open-comm, not as she ducked around the cover just long enough to exchange some fire, with the satisfaction of seeing one of the gang members fall under her shots. Now, Nyriaka wouldn't say the operation was a bust yet, seeing as she had fulfilled her side of the bargain, but as she heard Garrus' voice crackle over the open comms line, she couldn't help but hiss again in annoyance. The gang members were advancing ever more closer, and another of her sentry mechs was also down; to replace it, the engineer quickly activated her omni-tool to create an attack drone right in a gaggle of gang members."You wanted to see my goods up close, there's no better view than right down the face of one of my drones," she wryly muttered, a slight smirk on her face as shot after shot was fired from the gun. It was so automatic; fire, empty out the clip, reload with another one. Nyriaka hadn't even noticed that she was nearly half way through her ammo before a familiar and very comforting presence was nearby - Garrus. She had to admit that it was good to see that he hadn't lost any of his wryly wit even in the face of imminent danger and threat, with adrenaline pumping through both of their veins."Jolly great for you to join now, I have them pinned down just fine!"she called back with a half-smile curving onto her expression, activating her omni-tool once more to send out another drone as the last one disintegrated under the concentrated enemy fire,"And honestly, the only one who could ever kill me is just me, mellis! Nearly had my horns burned right off, I'll let you know!" "S'kak! There really seemed no end to the number, and as she glanced down to see the scattered thermal clips around her feet, desperate times simply called for desperate measures."How about... Let's just blast our way out? Leave the big guns to the big girl,"Nyriaka offered with an inappropriate amount of cheer then, sending the other turian a toothy smirk before she holstered the M-9 Tempest and from the other larger holster on her back, quickly activated the M-920 Cain, aimed at the group in front of her, and fired. Oh, had she forgotten to mention that the explosion from the shot would be enough to trigger all of the explosives she had already planted around the area there? Oops. There was scarcely any time for Nyriaka to rush over to where Garrus was before the initial explosion rocked the ground beneath them, and then one by one, the crates exploded. Some were too close for comfort, but all she could do now was huddle next to him, clutching the spent heavy weapon in her hand as they waited for the explosions to finally subside. When it did, she was left with a good ringing in her ears, unsteadily clambering to her feet to peer out over the pile of crates they were behind. Absolute and utter ruin, just like they had wanted from the operation, but perhaps... A little more flamboyant and aggressive than Garrus might have wanted. Still feeling the blood thumping through her veins and the exhilarating high of being so close to a life-or-death situation not quite leaving her yet, the engineer reached out to grasp the other turian's hand with an affectionate squeeze and shake."Well, that might have been more of a boom than a bust. But! Like the humans say, two birds with one stone. Or in this case, two objectives with one shot,"she breathlessly chattered with a bright winning smile, looking around before slowly steadying herself to just get the heck out of there; running away with Garrus and the others sounded awfully romantic and appealing at the moment, considering their only other option was to be caught by this gang's leaders like sitting babes,"You coming, talur?" TURIAN WORDS FROM THIS TURIAN DICTIONARY:</s>

Death was a funny thing really, especially now that Azula was actually faced with it protruding from her chest. Twenty years. A mere two decades was her tenure upon this world, in which time she had triumphed, failed, been exalted, and disgraced. Now all of her time seemed to be measured in seconds and minutes instead of years and decades. It wasn't as painful as she had first imagined it would be, though that was a tiny pittance of compensation for the crimson liquid she saw pooling up from the cold steel planted firmly in her chest. All she could do was stare at it at first. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Killed by the blade of some frightened halfwit thief a couple of years her junior and vastly inferior in skill. The frightened look on his youthful face was almost comical. She wondered how he might react knowing just who it was he had stabbed through the heart with his little knife. For her it was a mix of comedy and horror that settled over her mind, a sharp barking chuckle escaping her lips along with a mist of red droplets. There was no honor in this, no glory in a death in an alleyway in some backwater part of the Earth Kingdom. The edges of her vision were starting to give way into darkness. Fear replaced the confusing swirl of emotions within her as she crumpled to the ground, her breaths coming out in progressively shallow and labored gasps. She didn't want to die. She didn't deserve to die like this! All she had ever done was to please her father, every atrocity, every life taken; it was all for his approval and for her nation. No, instead her brother, a sentimental fool who could never do a single thing right in his life ruled her people and she got to die alone in the Earth Kingdom. As the darkness came over her more and more oppressively, she mentally cursed Zuko, that water tribe bitch, the Avatar, her mother, even Agni. Those that had ruined her life and reduced her to this most ignominious of ends. The man that had killed her had run from her collapsed form in terror, didn't even rob her soon-to-be corpse. What an utterly incompetent thief, her killer should have possessed more spine than that. She couldn't bring herself to curse him; he was merely a catalyst that brought about her ultimate humiliation. She didn't deserve to die, not like this! Not like this Not

Thus, in a small back alley in a forgotten town in the Earth Kingdom, Azula, the former princess of the Fire Nation, died. She didn't even get a proper funeral; one of the local guards found the corpse and buried her in an unmarked grave in the cemetery nearby. None would visit the unmarked grave, and her brother remained on the throne that was meant for her. Azula's friends were happy without her, one standing proudly next to Zuko while the other pretended to be one of those pitiful warriors they masqueraded as to bring the Earth Kingdom down. The darkness eternal and peaceful felt like nothing but the ocean all around Azula. Tossed about like a cork before its might, the Spirit World claimed its newest addition. The unconscious form of Azula's spirit floated along the surface of actual water within the afterlife. A fitting entrance of irony for one who had the power of fire at her fingertips. However, as the creatures of the Spirit World dispersed at the sight of a small black sloop sailing the waters and recovering Azula's sleeping form, it would seem fate had a new plan for her. "Oh look at her..." Azula heard a whisper as the first thing to register was the chill against her nude form. "You said you found her just adrift? Hmm impressive indeed." The pressure from the shackles suspending her wrists above her head and keeping her feet spread-eagle style. "Just by those massive pieces of flesh I think she will be perfect." The voice said again before a soft warm hand groped Azula's bare breast. As her eyes cracked open to locate her molester, Azula was greeted by the sight of a woman. This woman, however, was perhaps the most beautiful Azula had ever seen. Long red hair that pulled down to her waist, an unusual trait for a world populated with dark-haired citizens, creamy white skin that gave off a brief glow from the lighting within the prison cell Azula was suspended in, giving off an ethereal appearance that complimented the pink kimono the woman was wearing. "Oh good morning," the woman purred, seeing Azula wake as she rolled the pink nipple between her fingers. "Welcome to the after life how are you today?" She asked with such a sweet tone that it gave off an air of uncertainty as brown eyes stared into hazel. "I hope you are ready for your new life." She said.</s>

Doctor Lyra Joules was normally quite the logical and rational woman. After all, that was exactly why she had achieved such a prestigious position within the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, in one of the most secretive and ambitious research projects ever undertaken; alien genetic splicing. More specifically, not just any species, but one of the most malleable in terms of genetic manipulation; the Xenomorphs. Normally, the aliens' life cycle was terrifying, to say the least, but here in the top-security space station, S.S. Wright, they had made groundbreaking results. Finally, instead of having to depend on finding a Queen Xenomorph with the possibilities of her overrunning whatever safety measures they put into place or the messy extinguishing of life from the violent manner of birth by the Chest Burster stage, all they needed were their test subjects to breed among each other and with fertile hosts for a new generation of Xenomorphs! These specimens were lab-grown and specially created to be functional as full-grown life forms from when they were born until they were sexually mature - usually a result of just a few months of intensive growth and care by the scientists who had created them. In general appearance, they would seem nearly identical to normal Xenomorphs; possessing with all of the dangerous natural weapons and that seemingly unsettling appearance, they were now also equipped with their greatest utility that made them so special and different - a penis. Not just like any cock; this one had been tailored for not only efficient results when breeding, but also for pleasure with whatever or whoever they would be mating with! With its nearly amorphous capabilities to fit into whatever sexual vessel to implant sperm (in the case of these specific subjects, the human vagina), it was a prehensile yet well-endowed organ even beyond that of what any human male could dream of. With lubricating secretions guaranteed to ensure easy thrusts, chemicals in the precum to both relax the mate's muscles and heighten sensitivity towards pleasure, that was only the beginning of the wondrous sensual qualities they possessed. They had almost unstoppable endurance, a trait shared by their less-attuned natural race members, but specified so that fertilization was practically certain with just the amount of sperm they could ejaculate in multiple and consecutive loads! These Xenomorphs could be declared as the pinnacle of sexual manipulation at its finest - something that could hardly be appreciated by those bound by outdated moral qualms or close-minded assumptions. Reigning at such a headway was what could be called the "perfect organism"; Specimen Khan, or numerically known as S-69. With careful tweaks and multiple instances of trials, they had finally accomplished their goal with him; a Xenomorph so precisely attuned and perfected to be a sexual partner that Weyland-Yutani decreed that Khan could not be used as a "breeding specimen." No, he was too valuable, too precious of an individual to be allowed to do as his instincts would otherwise; they had mandated that he be in "pristine" conditions, with his only form of contact being that to collect the virile ejaculations containing his potent sperm for possible future specimens like him. Which, to Lyra, was simply a shame all by itself. Had they not already determined that these aliens were not only highly intelligent, but also sociable in a way? And now, after having been genetically combined with further human DNA to be more compatible with the homo sapien race, of course he would want further physical and perhaps even emotional contact with others - fertile and youthful human females like herself in particular. All of those times having observed and specifically interacted with Khan had lent Lyra to a certain amount of affection for the Xenomorph; more than what was expected, at an alarming level of familiarity that would terrify her coworkers. Perhaps it was just the loneliness of her work, the vast expanse of nothing of space that had little interest to sate her primal needs, or just the fact that her alien charge had been intentionally created with the sole purpose of looking like as much of a viable mate as possible; whatever it was, the scientist could not help the instinctual feeling of attraction that she felt to him. After all, he had made it as clear as he could even without words that he clearly wanted her, specifically her; all of those months observing the alien lounging back behind the glass observation wall only when they were alone with that impressive member in one dexterous hand being stroked off had certainly done gratuitous amounts to her sexual appetite. So to say that she wasn't thinking straight recently might be the way of describing how Lyra was constantly feeling due to the ever-increasing pent-up sexual desire. But nothing she did alone seemed to satisfy her; not when the only images she had in her mind was that of Khan's uniquely throbbing cock, and the ever-present thought of just how pleasurable it would feel inside of her. After all, she knew better than anyone else as his primary caretaker, what wonders the Xenomorph could have her feel if such a flexible organ were to be thrusting inside her and leaving behind all of his pleasure-inducing chemical cocktail slathered against her tight walls... Not to mention, just how satisfying it would feel for such an intelligent and sapient creature like him to finally be able to experience one of the most pleasurable feelings possible! He had always been such a docile and obedient specimen in comparison to his more unruly and "imperfect" brother, so what better way to reward him than with what he wanted so dearly as much as she wanted him? Lyra was no engineer, being a bio-chemical scientist, but it didn't take much for her to find the security camera station and do a bit of fiddling around for at least a few hours of privacy in the darkness of the night. What she was planning to do, if caught, would at least lead to expulsion from her position and the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, but knowing its stringent policies, she might not even return to Earth. Well, that was, if she even wanted to, not when she had already found what she believed was the one person whom she thought was simply perfect for her; the only issue was that he was currently kept away from her in a specially designed Xenomorph escape-proof enclosure, which was hardly a challenge for her to enter instead. All it took were a few key punches and some rewiring of the circuitry behind the door panels for her to completely override it; a simple task that couldn't be done quickly enough, given how impatient Lyra was feeling. Already, she could feel her excitement begin to mount alarmingly quickly with the sheer anticipation of finally, finally being able to physically encounter her beloved Khan, and as soon as the doors opened with a smooth hydraulic hiss, she was striding through with purposeful steps towards the shiny dark shape in the corner of the dimly illuminated bare glass-walled cage. Even among other Xenomorphs, he was more built and larger in every way as purposely designed to be superior to them; the sleek alien figure should be enough to intimidate the most bravest of soldiers, but to her, he was the embodiment of a perfect partner. "Hello, Khan," Lyra began out innocently enough in the same sort of greeting she always gave him with that sweet warm tone, but this was going to hardly be a usual visit between them. Namely, the scientist could barely contain the shudder of desire that course through her body as she reached out a hand to touch one of his shiny plated arm, which was enticingly warm under her delicate fingers. At this, the red head smiled encouragingly at him, now having moved so close that he would be able to easily smell the arousal wafting from her already moistened pussy as she began to trail her fingers lightly to his equally muscular shoulder and broad chest."Do you miss me? I couldn't... I couldn't help myself any more from you. Someone like you shouldn't be kept in such conditions like this, being confined from what you're best at,"she continued, her voice taking on a quality of honeyed want as the human female now stepped back slightly, just enough for him to see her entire shapely hourglass figure underneath the nearly skin-tight jumpsuit she wore. Meticulously, with the confident knowledge that Khan would be enjoying the view just as much as Lyra was with baring herself for him, she pulled the numerous zippers and buckles free from her body and let the entire jumpsuit drop to the ground around her, exposing the pale milkiness of her soft skin without having even bothered to put any undergarments beforehand. Why should she? The sizable orbs of her breasts were bared, just begging to be squeezed and held, nipples perky with anticipation, and if the sweet musk of her pussy was noticeable beforehand, it was clearly wafting out with the fertile scent of a female who just wanted to be bred by the perfect specimen here in this enclosure. Her words then dropped to a sensual whisper with her light green eyes fixated on the Xenomorph as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world now,"Whenever I see you, I'm supposed to working... But all I can think about is you dominating me like you were meant to, Khan. I never thought I would meet someone who makes me feel this way, but I just want you to experience how it feels to mate with me, just as we've wanted to all this time."

Alone. Cold. Dark. Metal. Alone. Cage. Trapped. Watched.Alone. Subject Khan had watched for many days, months or years as scientists and researchers loomed over him, prodded his form from the safety of their enclosure and scribbled down things in their notebooks, clipboards and datapads. Since the moment he had been 'created' Khan never really cared about what those strange humans did as long as he was fed, got water and received some stimulation. He wasn't very friendly, but considering how friendly all Xenomorphs up until him were, Khan was basically the friendliest alien in history. Friendlier even than his "imperfect" brother, though Khan wasn't aware of said brother's existence as a result of being taken away and raised in a separate cage thanks to Weyland-Yutani. Reduced to pacing around his enclosure, occasionally interacting with a scientist by spooking them senseless, plenty of naps and little audio activity outside of what the scientists spoke, Khan at least felt some degree of gratitude that he hadn't had his limbs pulled apart or his blood collected by these humans. Alas, he longed to be free. Khan longed to jump around corridors, scuttle upside-down through hallways, shift about in the shadows and, of course, mate. He had the means to do so, and he had the instinctual drive to desire it. At times he played with that long, slick violet cock out in the open with no shame whatsoever- shame was a human emotion, after all- while at other times he allowed it to rub against the walls of his enclosure as if it was a naughty, yet very entertaining thing to do. He loved seeing the reactions from the scientists as he showcased his cock- in fact, over the days or months Khan had transformed into quite the exhibitionist, though it was only due to the appearance of that redheaded Lyra Joules that he carried through with most of the acts. He liked toying with her as much as he did any other scientist, but when the Xenomorph noticed that curious spark in her eyes whenever she gazed longingly at his cock, he schemed. And so after many days or months- bah, time had no meaning to a Xenomorph here- that redheaded scientist was here in his enclosure. He regarded her with some caution as he stared from the corner of his enclosure like some common animal. There was no hissing, no chittering, no chuckling or other inhuman noises. Merely silence. The Xenomorph was studying Lyra for whatever her intention may be, for whatever objects she might be holding in her hands or be concealing. Yet there was a smug confidence to Khan that could be easily seen even in the dim lighting of the enclosure. His mouth was cracked open as saliva trickled down from those rows of sharp teeth while the inner mouth was contained inside the gaping maw, though it flopped lazily against the floor of the maw like a tongue. Yes, Khan had been expecting Lyra to come to him and, when she spoke so softly, came so close and touched his plated body, he couldn't help but rise up to meet her face to face. Or rather, the Xenomorph towered over Lyra like a goliath. Khan sniffed at the air with an audible rrrrhuuuffmany times over once he noticed the arousing scent radiating from Lyra's pussy. He paused as the woman spoke again and seemed drawn to her honeyed words like a moth to the flame by how his head leaned in towards her and his tail flicked about. Though the Xenomorph didn't have any discernable eyes- at least from what could be deduced from a quick glance- it was clear that Khan was gazing at Lyra's form and noting similarities between hers and his own, though the male gaze was far more interested in scouring those curves and what her body could look like under that jumpsuit of hers. Oh yes, Lyra was right... Khan enjoyed the view very much! Thicker saliva trailed from his maw as he watched Lyra strip before him, at least until the maw closed and Khan sported that typical Xenomorph grimace. With Lyra bare before him and sporting those impressive breasts that had long entranced Khan for months on end, it took a great deal of self-restraint to not lash out and take the woman by force. Khan could smell her desire, her arousal, and knew that she was essentially pledging herself to become his mate now and forever, but why was there hesitation on his part? Perhaps he just wanted to hear the woman say the words out loud so she could bask in the ecstasy herself. Whatever it was, there was no mistaking that Khan was painfully aroused and riled up at that point. Already his long, slick and well-lubricated cock had slithered out from its sheath to pulse and tremble in the air, even to slide up against Lyra's stomach where it left a shimmering trail of slime and thick precum laced with a familiar aphrodisiac. He wanted her- no doubt about that. At the woman's final words- her desire to be dominated- Khan bucked his hips forward and pushed his trembling cock into Lyra's hand as if commanding her to take hold of it. The Xenomorph's free hands shot out to grasp the woman's shoulders in such a way that there was no hope of thrashing loose from them. These were hands tapered off with claws that were capable of ripping a marine in half or crumpling steel, and here they were being used to grasp a lithe, shapely human body with great care and great possessiveness before the Xenomorph turned on a dime and pressed Lyra's hot, trembling body against the wall of his enclosure. Pinned- and from there Khan just had to lean in and lap at Lyra's neck with the side of his slick, slimy and musky interior mouth whilst his free hands trailed down her shoulders and collided with her plush breasts. The heat from the palms of his plated hands was unlike anything the scientists had recorded before while- oh, and of course, how could one forget that cock of his?! Khan was far too proud to beg, but he wasn't the kind of alien to wait either. His cock writhed against Lyra's hand like a snake on its death throes. The Xenomorph desired for Lyra's hand and fingers to curl around him, to feel the lubrication and the precum that was dribbling from his member... And if she wasn't convinced by his endearing kneading of her plush breasts, a sharp tweak of her nipple by two claws would surely be enough to push her in the right direction!</s>

Five years had passed since Sarah ran the labyrinth after wishing Toby away, and the trip to the underworld had taken its toll on her. She wasn't stupid enough to tell anyone about what had happened. Who would believe her? Once she'd uttered those words-- you have no power over me-- things got a little fuzzy, and then crystal clear. One minute she'd been falling, falling, falling, and the next, she was back at home. Safe and sound. The first thing she'd done was check to ensure Toby was there, which he was. Also safe. Staring down at her baby brother, she realized in that moment just how precious he really was. She'd been selfish to wish him away. Even if her parents memories of Toby had been wiped, hers would not have been. She would have lived her life wondering how things would be different if Toby were still around. After moving on to her own room, she grew saddened by the sudden loneliness she felt. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but miss her friends. In the thirteen hours she spent running the labyrinth, she'd grown close to them. Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus... all of them. When they'd appeared in her mirror, and she'd turned to find them in her room... It was the happiest she'd ever been. But there was a flicker of doubt within her, one that kept imagining the Goblin King's face when she'd destroyed him and declined his offer. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave... Those words stuck with her for a long time. The now twenty-year-old had moved out of her father's house and into an apartment with her best friend Nicole. But whereas Sarah had practically given up on dreaming and 'being fun', Nicole was quite the opposite. Sarah had met her during junior year of high school, and Nicole had sort of adopted her as a friend. Despite Nicole's seriously outgoing and outspoken ways, Sarah actually really liked her. She was a good person. They both decided to take a year off of college and get jobs and an apartment together, and that's exactly what they did. At first, everything was great. But there was a darkness inside of Sarah that she'd been fighting to keep from coming out. She withdrew more and more until she was spending most of her time in her room. She lost her job, which meant Nicole had to pick up the slack. After a few months of that, she'd finally had enough and practically dragged Sarah out to the bar one night just to get her out of the house. And that... that is where Sarah met Derek. At first, Derek was everything she'd been missing. Flirty, fun, attractive, sweet... he dragged her out of the dark spot in her life. She got another job, one she actually enjoyed at a pet hospital. It was long hours, which meant Derek wasn't seeing her as often. It sucked but he was never mean or rude about it. When she came home one night from a late shift, exhausted and red-faced from crying over the loss of a patient, she didn't expect Derek to be waiting for her in her and Nicole's apartment. Nicole had let him in, and then gone out. Sarah didn't see the punch coming. That first hit started a whirlwind of abuse that she dealt with on the down low for about a year and a half. Nicole and Sarah had gotten into a huge disagreement over him, big enough that Nicole moved out, and Derek moved in. That just made the abuse worse. When Sarah finally gathered the courage to leave, she moved to a shady apartment complex a few towns over. At first, Derek had blown up her phone and threatened her on the daily. But then it stopped. Until tonight when he randomly showed up at her door and beat her senseless. He'd left her a broken, bruised heap on the floor, slamming the door behind him as he left. She'd pulled herself up to a sitting position, feeling worse than she'd felt those five years ago sitting in her room alone crying into her sleeve. Crying into her sleeve, she whispered words that she swore she'd never, ever say again. "I wish the goblins would come and take me away right now."

The last five years had been rather boring, and Jareth, the great Goblin King, was still sulking from his defeat at Sarah's hands. It had been so embarrassing to have been bested. And yet, the girl had earned his respect. She had fought against the odds, raced against the clock, found the way to defeat him. He admired that. He had watched her occasionally since, but had not peeked in for some years. And then, one day, lounging on his throne, he and the other goblins heard them. The magic words. The simple summoning invocation. A simple wish. But that voice ... In an instant he was on his feet, and the next he was elsewhere, at the source of those words. He glanced around, and then he saw her, sitting curled up on the floor. "Oh, Sarah." The pain in his voice was obvious. He crouched down next to her, reached out a hand to touch her. "What happened to you?" He asked softly.</s>

The setting takes place on a beach, at Angel Groove beach, where everyone is swimming, playing beach ball volleyball and even surfing in the water on the waves that are in the water as well. A female girl with blonde hair, hazel eyes, 5'5, wearing a pink and white two-piece bikini bathing suit, and she was surfing on the waves as well as the other people were busy surfing. coolkittycatgirl14: Her name is Angel, and she is a pretty good surfer for a female. It's about 4pm in the afternoon on a nice summer afternoon out like today. She has heard a rumor about another ranger, that has been spotted in the rocky mountains near a cave of some kind and she wonders whom this ranger could be and she sighs. Angel surfs back into the shore of the beach, and she carries her surf board with her back to her beach towel. She stands her surf board up and she lays down on the beach towel and begins to sun bathe for bit to dry herself off, from the water that was on her bathing suit. Angel wonders if everything is ok at The Power Ranger Hideout and she hasn't heard from Zordon or Alpha for a bit. She wonders why it's so quiet around here, she hasn't seen any putties, or monsters that the enemy usually sends down here to stir up trouble with the Power Rangers and she sighed and continues on resting and relaxing.

A small car pulled up next to the shack on the beach. Tommy climbed out of it sensing a ranger nearby, he looked sharply around for anyone with that kind of authority. He noticed a girl lying in the sand, he walked over and looked at her. "Ah, finally a pretty face," he grinned.</s>

The universe was a vast, dark place teeming with life, on planets all mind-bogglingly far apart from each other, and yet the advent of technology soon negated this cumbersome isolation and travelers were capable of faster-than-light speeds to explore the unknown. Far more civilizations were able to reach this level of technology and soon a thriving galactic economy of trade and political exchanges was established. It was far from ideal, with many conflicts arising as a direct result among planets more greedy than they had any right to be, but waging interplanetary campaigns was a rather dubious enterprise and so peace was for the most part the order of the day. That was, until the arrival of a particular warlord whose singular person had more power within than an entire fleet of the most advanced warships. Frieza, a veritable galactic emperor, effortlessly crushed numerous planets that he sought to bring under his dominion. They made the foolish mistake of refusing. This dictatorial, almost child-minded sadist was in no mood to hear the word 'no' and his wrath was swift and, though none would ever have the guts to utter it aloud, entirely unnecessary overkill. Worlds full of valuable resources reduced to barren wastelands where not even the charred skeletons of the hapless denizens remained. Six major worlds fell before Frieza's name began to make blood run cold, and rather than even attempt to resist or merely negotiate, planets swore allegiance immediately in the hopes of being spared. If one could call the men being conscripted into Frieza's armies and never see their families again (the families being forced into slave labor) 'spared', that is. No planet had more than a handful of soldiers that could enforce Frieza's rule on their own, the few very talented ones enjoying higher ranks within Frieza's inner circle. That is, until they made contact with Planet Vegeta. This was a mostly lawless land, where the natives had wiped out an entire other species recently that they had been warring with for control over the planet. Those other tragically extinct being, the Tuffles, were what Frieza's soldiers had expected to find there, their advanced technology allowing them interstellar travel and other valuable resources useful to the empire. Instead, they found savage, yet cunning, people, humanoid in appearance but possessing monkey-like tails and an incredible propensity for hand-to-hand combat. The planet was rather inhospitable, however, to most of Frieza's vassals. For one thing, the gravity on this world was inordinately strong, fitting for the raw power possessed by these beastly Saiyans, as they called themselves. They quickly became Frieza's favorite playthings. The Saiyans loved nothing more than fighting, and when they weren't off conquering planets in Frieza's name, they were entertaining him directly with exhibition matches in coliseum-style arenas. "Dance, monkeys, dance!" Frieza would gleefully clap as the Saiyans butchered any opponent sent up against them with ruthless ferocity. This lasted for quite some time, and King Vegeta was a mere boy prince when Frieza's name first became known to them. While it had been difficult to get them to do anything other than thrash Frieza's soldiers who had tried to make first contact and demand their fealty, it did not yet reach the point of Frieza becoming irritated enough to wipe them out, as then-King, Vegeta the 1st (named as such after the destruction of the Tuffles), recognized the level of technology from their visitors and what it could do for his people. Vegeta was a rather barren place as it was, even if they called it home. Calling for a truce, they were able to negotiate with Frieza's forces and were delighted that in addition to accessing that technology, they would get to sate their bloodlust by spreading their violence to countless other worlds. It was a match made in Hell, truly. But one day Frieza's favorite toys ceased to be what he had once thought they were. While it was a rare occasion, even on their own home world, the Saiyans had neglected to mention a peculiarity of their species, the very reason they toppled the Tuffles after such a long war against them. Right in the middle of a free-for-all battle with an open roof, dozens of Saiyans were expected to fight to the death until only one was left standing, and they would be richly rewarded. Unfortunately, the planet they were on was having a full moon that night, and the open ceiling gave them all a full, clear view of the moon. They all froze just as the battle was beginning, mesmerized by the pale light. Frieza was puzzled, and quickly became infuriated at their failure to entertain him as expected. But what he saw next turned that anger into something he had never felt before: Fear. A primal roar shook the ground, the collective voices of the Saiyans bellowing louder than it should have been possible for beings their size. In a matter of seconds, each and every one of them swelled in size, their bodies covered entirely in hair but for their hands, feet and faces, which elongated and looked rather more wolf-like than ape, but their body structures still resembled that of an upright-walking chimpanzee, though with their enormous Saiyan tails. The entire coliseum exploded outward, unable to contain even five full-sized Saiyans, and the planet, much smaller than their native one, was not long for itself once they began thrashing about, still driven to do only one thing: Fight. To the death. Their energy beams spewing from their mouths were at least ten times as powerful as any the Saiyans had wielded in standard form. Every Scouter worn by anyone who survived this initial transformation event exploded from overload. Frieza retreated to his ship and fled, the first time he had ever shown cowardice to any of his soldiers. None dared question this, however, as they were just as scared shitless of this nightmare! At least with Frieza they knew where they stood, but with these out-of-control monsters, there was no safety but being no closer than orbit! The planet was small enough that Frieza, with intense concentration and a significant amount of his own power, was able to destroy it, which, one way or another, would kill the giants that would be identified by non-transformed Saiyans as Oozaru. Frieza demanded to know why this information was kept from him, and made no pretense that he wasn't making a direct threat to annihilate the lot of them for this treachery. How dare they hide something that could potentially topple him if a concentrated effort was mounted to be near him at the time of transformation? A strong enough Saiyan, in Oozaru form, could actually stand a chance against Frieza, almighty as he may have been. This whole situation was unprecedented, as was Frieza's reaction to it. It became clear that the new Saiyan ruler, King Vegeta the 2nd had not wished to give away any of the information that could be used to their detriment. Every Saiyan would keep it to themselves that their tails were their weak point, and were the key to unlocking their transformation that only occurred during full moons. Frieza didn't figure it out himself, but his advisors (the ones he didn't kill simply out of frustration), connected the Saiyans' transformation to the full moon, although nothing about their tails was yet known to be involved. Knowing that a full moon was about to occur on Planet Vegeta, Frieza decided it was now or never. The Saiyans would likely know that it was a full-scale war and that they were going to have to band together for a last stand against Frieza. It should have been obvious that them still having a King of their own meant they were not truly loyal to an outsider. Their pride would not let them bow down to a non-Saiyan! Thousands of them had gathered as Frieza set a course for their world, intending to blow it up and them along with it, Oozaru or not! A show of strength was needed now, to ensure that no other races hiding any sort of major powerups would ever even think about challenging him! It was a trait of the royal family of Saiyans that even in their Oozaru forms, they retained full use of their mental faculties and even their voices. In this way, King Vegeta the 2nd and his son, Prince Vegeta, were able to quell the savagery of their brethren and lead them like a true army against Frieza. Firing their mouth lasers skyward, they decimated all backup spaceships Frieza had brought along with him, and he ordered all but his flagship to retreat. Still too fearful to enter the atmosphere of the planet, Frieza instead opted for the next-best solution to the problem: The moon had to go. Still recovering from his recent high-level energy expenditure on the coliseum planet, it took a toll on him to muster the power to obliterate Vegeta's moon, but it happened, and the Oozaru shrank back down to their original forms. This was a devastating loss for the Saiyans. The only planet they knew of for certain had a moon cycle they could use to their advantage, now moonless. But that wasn't all; they also had to contend with the massive pieces of their crumbled moon crashing down onto the planet, causing demolition on a scale that would embarrass even a rampaging Oozaru. Planet Vegeta wasn't fit for sustaining life very much even before, but now...remaining in that dusty atmosphere would be toxic to any lifeforms. They had no choice but to flee. This was, however, a window in which they were capable of doing so without Frieza's immediate retaliation. That last moon-crushing attack was crippling to Frieza. His energy needed time to replenish and no one else with him now was capable of going down there and blasting down the Saiyans' ships before they could leave the planet. Though hundreds of Saiyans perished in the effort as their planet turned on them, they still largely managed to evacuate, going off in all directions, agreeing to come together again one day and make Frieza pay for this. They would need to get stronger, strong enough that even a full moon would not need to be relied upon. Whispers of trying to find the legendary Super Saiyan, even. But after their initial takeoff, they had to maintain radio silence to ensure they could not be followed or tracked. They might need to settle on distant planets that had never made contact with any other species before. As long as Frieza couldn't follow or find them until they were ready to be found, their will to defeat him would live on. The King and Prince each boarded their own space pods and went off in the same direction, intending to keep their bloodline together and bring along a small harem of females. After all, it wouldn't do to just leave their population as it was. They needed to repopulate, especially if they wanted more firepower against Frieza when the fateful day arrived. However, things were not going to be that easy for them. The best-laid plans of mice and men were not immune to Murphy's Law. Passing space debris caught Prince Vegeta's pod and damaged it very badly, causing it to go off-course and not follow anywhere near the course of his father and harem of females' ships. Everyone had planned on a long journey to put enough distance between themselves and Frieza's forces, and were in hibernation within their pods. Nobody was alerted that Vegeta's was suddenly no longer following them. His craft hurtled toward an alien world that had thankfully never known the existence of other worlds with intelligent life...at least, not for the most part. The guardian of Earth was, in fact, another alien, but that was a tale for another day. Unconscious, badly hurt but still capable of breathing in space thanks to a great deal of training, Vegeta was unable to extricate himself from his predicament and mercifully his considerable strength allowed him to withstand what would have easily killed a lesser warrior, as well as the crash to the ground when it finally came. A smoking meteorite creating a city block-sized crater just outside of the planet's biggest major city would certainly get the attention of the local news, but no one could possibly have predicted that it was going to contain the still-living body of an unearthly visitor! Fortunately, Earth was a rather unusual place full of humanoid animals, sentient monsters, non-extinct dinosaurs, and amazing levels of technology, so he would not be treated as a freak, or as a threat...unless he acted as such. They were very open-minded there on Earth...some, more than others; like the particularly inquisitive, gifted and especially the young and reckless.

The Briefs Family: a small family located residing in the center of West City, one of the most famous and prosperous cities on Earth. Briefs had become a household name, and it would be rare to find someone who did not know about them. The name was on the cover of almost every science magazine for one reason or another. Many believed the family to be destined for greatness, and based on all of the accomplishments of Dr. Briefs, the patriarch of the family, no one could blame someone for making such an assumption. However, that had not always been the case. Dr. Trunks Briefs had always been hungry for knowledge in his youth, looking for ways to make simple tasks easier for his mother, who had several children to look after.One day, Ill make sure shell always have someone there to help her, someone to make life easier for her,he thought. Being the youngest of six children, there wasnt much he could do. But as he got older, he had taken an interest in science and all the possibilities it has to offer. If weve advanced this much, theres no telling what we can do to use science to our advantage! The young boy had grown into a young man, holding onto that belief tightly. People thought him to be odd, always seeing his face buried in books that were larger than what most of his peers would ever attempt to read. His passion had become second-nature, and before he even had his PhD diploma in hand, he had already been offered a job that gave him his own science and tech team. Briefs would soon grace the cover of science magazines on occasion, and in small print. Yet fame was not his goal. On the contrary, he wanted to make life easier for everyone; to give all people, whether they were rich, poor, or in between, a lifestyle that would allow them to focus more on what was important to them. It wasnt long before Dr. Briefs was able to fulfill his promise to his mother with the use of robotics and artificial intelligence, but his craving for more was never fully sated. His work, while unorthodox to some, was nevertheless ingenious. His rivals, those who were jealous of his mind and abilities, worked hard to stop him from overshadowing them. One academic journal after another was rejected, and his unique ideas were often ridiculed, being mocked to no end. You really think you can manipulate the atoms of inorganic objects to fit inside something smaller than the palm of your hand, no matter the size? How absurd! Those who had constantly refuted him would eat their words. Dr. Briefs parted ways with his former employer and decided to start a venture of his own; to have his own enterprise that would lead the world into the future of technology. But how would he do this? What would be the breakthrough product that would put his name in the minds of everyone? Time travel, perhaps? No...that would take years, and there was no guarantee that it would be successful. These Dino Capsules will either make or break me. But what if I fail? A couple of years passed before he met his wife, Panchi. She was the complete opposite of him; not book-smart at all, and came off as being rather airheaded and aloof. But she had a hidden knack for reading the atmosphere and people she interacted with; and she was his biggest supporter when no one else backed his endeavor. With that, he made his decision and stood firm in it, banking his entire livelihood on a small, thumb-sized capsule. It was thanks to those capsules that he could now live a life in comfort while running his own company, Capsule Corp. His first daughter was born; Tights. Within her, he instilled an affinity for technology, and some years later, his second daughter was born; Bulma. She naturally took up an interest in science, and in his eyes, she had a gift. While Tights eventually left the nest to focus on other things, Bulma wanted to learn as much as she could from her father, and he was more than happy to teach her everything he knew. Yes, she will be the one to take over Capsule Corp. Bulma was just like any other teenager. She was into boys, particularly the bad boy type. Some nights, she would sneak out for a few hours and return, getting caught from time to time. What set her apart from others her age was her intelligence. At only 16 years of age, she was already helping her father with his project and preferred to spend her time after school in the lab, tinkering away and learning as much as she could about what made what work. Young Bulma was a scientist in her own right, and her father encouraged her when any odd idea came to her mind. He wanted her to shine. On one particular evening, something strange had occurred; a meteorite landed just outside of West City. The outskirts were fairly empty, thankfully. Bulma had been out with some friends when it happened, and being naturally inquisitive, she parted ways with them and began to track down the site on her hoverbike. What if this thing holds some secrets of unexplored space? she thought, her shoulder-length blue hair whipping behind her as she left the main road to head towards the rising smoke that came from the crash site. Whatever it was, it left a pretty impressive crater. Her bike sped up; she needed to get there before the press did. Expecting to see a space rock in the crater, Bulma was more than a little surprised when she spotted a large metallic object. A...ship of some kind? H-Hey, is anyone down there? she called out. No, there couldnt be anyone there. It wouldve been impossible for anyone to survive such an impact. Still, her heart pounded excitedly in her chest. What a discovery this could be! The press couldnt get their hands on it first. Without giving it a second thought, she called her father. Dad, I found something, or someone. Bring an aircraft, fast! Putting her phone away, she began to make the climb down into the crater, a move no one in their right mind would ever try to attempt. Despite all of Bulmas intelligence, she wasnt physically-gifted, and by the time she managed to reach the wreckage she was out of breath, and her fathers aircraft was approaching in the distance. Is anyone in there? she asked, taking a deep breath in an effort to even out her breathing. Each step she took sent a feeling of glee and nervousness through her, and before long, she was close enough to the ship to see...a person? Shit...h-hold on, Ill try to get you out! Bulma did all she could to push debris out of the way, hoping to free the specimen and bring them out alive. At the edge of the crater, Dr. Briefs was already landing, and a pair of bots emerged from the aircraft and entering the crater.</s>

Today was the day he was going to try and get the new girl. He didn't know why but he had found such an uncontrollable lust just by looking at her. She was cute and American which made it even more exciting. Just the thought of him screwing her made him so hard. He had to have her no matter what. Not that she would reject him anyway, I mean he was the most popular guy in school. No one ever rejected him so why would she? He was better-looking than any of the guys in school. Having short but soft and thick copper brown hair. Dark brown bedroom eyes that could easily manipulate any woman just by making eye contact. He was perfectly toned and leaned. Standing tall at 5'8" and weighing 119 pounds, not to mention he had a perfect package to go with. Looks wasn't all he had though, no. He was talented in everything he did and tried. His skills were extraordinary and rare. Then there was his intelligence. Being top of the class and always Valid Victorian. Oh yeah, he got everything he wanted, basically, he was a spoiled brat who tended to act very unlike himself if he didn't get what he wanted. Light Yagami was leaning against his locker as he thought over his plan. He would ask her out and work from there. Now the main concept was whether he would keep her afterward or it would be a one night stand. Well, that really mattered if he liked her enough after the first night. If he had fun then yes, he'd keep her for a while. A smile came on his face as he saw the girl go to her locker surprisingly just a few away from his. When she opened it up to get out her things, he had moved and was now behind her locker door waiting for her to close it and see him.

Lexus looked around as she walked down the hall, all the boys cheering and whistling after her. Sighing some, she got to her locker and saw one guy looking at her. She quickly grabbed her stuff and closed her locker before backing up, backing up into Light. She looked back, getting a scared look in her eyes. Turning around, she leaned up against the locker and gave a weak smile, then looked around. Everyone was looking scared. She looked back at Light and glared some. "What do you want with me? Are you gonna trap me or do something I don't like?" She had a feeling he was a bad boy, but she didn't know yet. She didn't know, but after thinking about it, he was pretty hot and he looked like the kind of guy she liked. Sighing some, she looked back into his eyes, her steel-dark blue eyes starting to soften slightly. She sighed again, nodded, and looked back around the school. She wondered if her popularity would go up if she went with him; she would probably become the most popular girl in school. She smiled more friendly at the thought, running her hand down his chest. "So what is it you want, hmmm?" She was just feeling his chest and damn, it felt good. She would love to feel that chest against hers and even feel his whole body against hers. Thinking at that thought, she sighed some and backed up a little, then stepped forward, looking closer into his eyes. Her black hair was midway down her back, and she was breathing normally for once instead of being scared. His eyes seemed to calm her down somewhat, and she wondered what was going on in his mind, but she wasn't a mind reader, so she wouldn't be able to do anything. Backing up against the locker, she brought one foot up onto the locker, bending her knee. Sighing some, she closed her eyes, her short skirt showing most of her thighs and legs, and she wore a red tight tank top, which showed off her breasts. She really wanted a boyfriend, but she hadn't found one yet. All the ones who were interested were either abusive or plain assholes. She hoped if he asked her out, he would be a nice guy - rough but nice. Looking back at him, she smiled some. "The school bell is about to ring, so just ask me your question and I will get going."</s>

Kagome stood on a rock face next to a waterfall, overlooking the wonderful countryside of the world she lived in. Turning back, she walked over to the hut that she and Inuyasha had gotten to get away from the chaos of the village they used to call home. Now it was just her and him. The way she liked it - and with Kikyou out of the way, she felt more like Inuyasha was hers. Thus nothing could go on to distract him away from her. She walked into the hut to see him sleeping. It was morning, and she had gotten up early to get some fish for them to have in the morning. "Inuyasha, get up," she said softly, hoping the half-demon would rise and get the fish. She had taken the beads off of him a while ago; she thought he didn't need them anymore, seeing as how they were lovers. She thought she was controlling the poor man, so she took it off and put it in a mantle in their shared hut, a reminder of the things they had gone through to complete the jewel shard - or now jewel - that sat in the village under strong wards to keep demons away. Though she had heard of other things approaching on the land, and she frowned at the idea, waiting for Inuyasha to get his breakfast and possibly eat together since she was hungry.

Inuyasha lay dreaming peacefully, sprawled out on his back, legs and arms spread wide. His mouth was practically open, and even a little drool dripped onto the floor. Not like he cared about what he looked like in his sleep; he was only with Kagome after all. So much time had passed since they finally completed the jewel, and Inuyasha and Kagome destroyed Naraku together. The only problem was that there were still those who sought the jewel, but it had its protectors. Miroku and Sango took on that job, seeing as it was more the peaceful life for the couple and their children. Inuyasha never wished for the jewel, and Kagome had stayed with him. It was all he ever wanted. When Naraku was destroyed, the well that tied Kagome to her world disappeared completely. She never got to say goodbye to her family and friends, though it seemed that she happily left that world behind. He couldn't be more lucky. Though he always wondered if she missed it. On their daily trips to the village, he always caught her standing there watching the spot where the well was. It seemed too much to just be happy to be with him. He always felt guilty. It was one of the reasons he was always hesitant around her. Inuyasha mumbled something in his sleep, kind of like "Take that you bastard!" He was dreaming he was slaying a monster demon, one that Mioga and Totosai were claiming that he would be killed in an instant. After his triumphant win, he gave both the old geezers an good thumping for ever doubting him. Kagome cheered him on the whole time, and he grinned from ear to ear as she ran and flung herself into his arms... At the moment, Kagome told him to get up. Inuyasha rolled over, flinging his arm up over Kagome's, taking her down with him as he almost rolled on top of her. One leg swinging over hers, pinning her, and burying his nose into her neck.</s>

Alex's green eyes traveled up the massive door. "What...the heck?" he whispered to himself, looking at the knob. "How...and am I going to do this?" The boy walked towards the door, sighing softly. He wore a light blue shirt and black pants, his hair a light brown almost blonde color. "Hello?!" he called, wondering where the heck that rabbit person had gotten off to. His eyes stayed on the giant door, and in particular the shiny doorknob.

It was just sickening, utterly sickening to be this absolutely late! But wait! Not only was she late, but someone or something had followed her in, followed her through the rabbit hole and unfortunately caught a glance of what was under that dress of hers because those dresses just weren't made for crawling. But she hadn't expected to crawl! She had expected to be on time! But her ears twitching and her head turning, the sound of a voice from the other side of the door left the rabbit curious, leaning forward before jumping back on the tips of her shoes. Oh dear~! She had led someone down down down, the hole in fact, and even showed them to the door! But it was just rude not to teach them how to get through now wasn't it! "Listen to the door silly, he's got all you need!" Her voice was light and airy, quite expected from her petite, though lightly curved frame, just upon her words, the door seemed to creak on its hinges, not opening, though eyes emerged from the panels. "All you need indeed~. What is it that you need?"</s>

It had been a long time waiting - three years - but Dimitri was once again in the Carpathian Mountains, standing in the forest, shaking the snow from his coat. It was coming down in sheets, so his coat was easily covered again by the blinding white. His blue eyes looked over his old homeland, and where he was when the Great War between the vampires and magi started. In his wolf form, he ran through the forest, to where a log cabin stood. Inside was the object that he had traveled thousands of miles, from Russia, for. The object of his affections and love... and his salvation. He stayed in the forest, knowing Gabriel's temper, knowing that going too near the house would give him a one-way ticket to pain and death.

Skyler sat inside, watching her adopted parents play with the children while she made dinner for herself and her siblings. Gabriel had promised that he would turn her after her 18th birthday, but she understood why he hadn't kept his promise for over a year. Dimitri. Just the thought of his name made her sigh - in longing and in anxiety. She could see herself caring for him... if she ever got over the horror of her past. Sensing someone outside, Skyler turned to the window. Seeing nothing immediately, she almost turned away. And then she saw the eyes, and looking harder, the outline of the wolf. Knowing instinctively who it was, she smiled a little, then returned to the counter. Thinking to Francesca, she asked her to keep Gabriel calm, she opened the door. "Come in, Dimitri," she said softly, knowing he would hear her. As soon as she said his name, she felt Gabriel beside her and nudged him away, before Francesca lured him back to the children. He still watched the doorway, practically glowering.</s>

Hinata sighed as she looked around the forest, landing on a large tree branch not too far from the outer wall of Konoha. She was on a standard patrol around the outskirts of the village, one of several ninja assigned to such a duty, and frankly, she was bored. Nobody with ill-intentions came this close to the village. No bandits, no enemy ninja, nothing. The worst would be the odd wild animal attacking a traveller, and even that hadn't happened much lately. The animals had been learning to stay away from the paths, and the travellers were learning to stick to the paths rather than try to take a shortcut. "Still...not much longer I suppose." The Hyuuga girl slowly looked around, seeing what she was expecting - nothing. Still, despite being bored she couldn't turn down the assignment. She was much too shy to ever try such a thing. Turning to go once more, the girl adjusted her large, thick jacket before leaping to the next tree. Despite being a ninja for several years now, she still wore the jacket to hide herself, hiding even her ample chest from the world. Most girls, not just her age but even adults, would kill for a chest as large and firm as Hinata's, but she did her best to hide it, not wanting men to stare at her in such a horrible way. Perhaps that was why she was so shy and withdrawn. Maybe that was why she was always alone. Landing once more, Hinata took another look around, before starting to jump from tree to tree once more. She was on the lookout for anyone that shouldn't be around, but she didn't expect anything to happen, and in about an hour she could head home. "I know I shouldn't....but I'm almost wishing for something to happen just so there's something to do..."

"I know what you mean," Naruto whispered, as he stood up next to her, with his arms folded behind his head. A large grin came over his face as he tilted his head to the side, unfolding his hands before kneeling down next to her. Their bodies were extremely close. So what are you doing out here all by yourself?" he asked her, a little confused, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I would have come with you if you'd asked me, Jess." And here I spent all morning trying to look for you. Naruto smiled slightly, standing up once again before putting his hand on the side of the tree before jumping off of the branch and towards a nearby clearing. "Hay! I found this really close place just a little bit away from here. Come on, I want to show you." With that, Naruto was off, jumping from tree branch to tree branch, not even looking back, like he was so accustomed to. More than sure that Hinata was following closely behind. "You are so cruel," Kisame said softly, watching as Itachi used his Sharingan on Hinata, knowing that he wouldn't get any response from the quiet man. Quickly unfolding his arms, he automatically realized where Itachi was leading Hintai towards. Darting off towards that direction quickly followed behind Itachi as they moved through the trees unseen and unheard. Naruto landed inside of a cave, far off distance from Konoha, his hand gently touching the ground as he landed before standing up tall and turning around to Hinata. "Glad I didn't lose you back there." He told her, as he started to walk towards the back of the cave, getting further and further away from the entrance. There was nothing amazing about the cave other than the strange patterns that seemed to line the sides, hidden in darkness. Knowing that she could use her Byakugan at any moment, the Akatsuki clang stayed close by her, hiding in the shadows as Itachi lead her to her new home. Slowly Naruto stopped before turning around, revealing the wall around him, where it chains and hooks covered the walls. "It's lovely, isn't it?" He spoke before turning to her, his face distorted as he started to fade from view. Quickly Kisame grabbed her from behind before throwing her towards the wall, chaining her up before she could move away from him. "Well, that was rather easy," He spoke out loud, as the rest of the Akatsuki members started to appear around her.</s>

Kouta sighed, sitting in his classroom on the top floor of the Karakura High School, leaning his head on his propped-up hand and glancing out the window. It was so unbelievably boring in this city and in the school itself; with nothing to do. Sure, he could see the ghosts and spirits floating around the city, but there weren't any in this school, and while the others could talk to him about what they knew or remembered, not in school. He sighed and idly listened to the lecture going on, brushing his hand through his short sandy hair and looking at the teacher with bored blue eyes. "When will this be over?" he mused to himself, and turned his attention back out the window. It was a cloudy day outside, and it looked like it was about to rain, according to the meteorologists who had been calling for such weather all week. Kouta was one of the rare humans who possessed massive amounts of reiatsu and was often hollow bait, and indeed, he had run into a few in the past, but always managed to get away from them somehow. It was scary knowing that something evil could pop up anywhere to try and consume your soul. "I wish I knew how to fight those things," he muttered.

Rangiku Matsumoto had been given a rather...special assignment by her Captain. She had been sent on a long-term assignment to the living world...posing as a High School student of all things...just to watch over some human. Still...this was no ordinary human...it was a rare one with a massive amount of spiritual pressure...and it was to be her job to protect him from Hollows. After all, it would be disastrous if a Hollow consumed that kind of power. Or worse yet, if the boy was killed and became a Hollow himself. No...that couldn't be allowed to happen...and so to prevent it she had been chosen to go and watch over him. Walking into the classroom in a school uniform, the boys of the classroom immediately stared at her, while girls looked on jealously. Matsumoto's blouse was half open, revealing much of her ample cleavage, and as usual she had foregone the restraints of an uncomfortable bra, so as she walked to take her seat her large breasts were bouncing slightly in her shirt. She immediately knew who the boy was, and ignored all others as she walked over to take a seat beside him before the lesson began, sitting between the boy and the window so she was fully in his vision whether he wanted her to be or not. She wasn't sure he'd know what she was...but if possible she was supposed to keep her status as a Shinigami a secret. She just needed to get friendly with him to make her job easier. "Well hello there, you look spaced. Something interesting out there?"</s>

Zelman Clock just watched from the roof of his complex, enjoying the night's sky. He sat there for some time, contemplating what he could do today that would be entertaining, since he had just woken up. He knew that his assistant would be coming soon with the day's news, but to him, that was just boring. "Really, there is nothing that can be done tonight?" He sighed and let the flame in his hand die down before jumping off the roof and landing on the ground without a problem. "Well, I might as well go and see what's going on around the Special Zone and see if I can get involved in anything," he said to himself.

Mimiko Katsuragi, who was the compromiser for the entire special zone, was walking around trying to find Jiro. "Jiro! Where is he?" she asked herself. At least Sei had taken Kotaro for her. Soon enough, however, she found herself pinned against a wall by a group of new vampires to the Special Zone. She screamed, "Help Jiro, Zelman, anyone!" The guy who had his hand on her neck said, "Quiet, girl, or we won't have to kill you." All the thugs smiled. Mimiko closed her eyes, "Damn it, why me? Help anyone!" She began gasping for air as the man pressed down on her neck to choke her. "I said shut up," he growled, hitting her head against the brick wall behind her before taking his free hand and beginning to undo her shirt. "You gotta pay," he added.</s>

Balto was the big hero he was looking forward to having puppies when his owner moved back to the States. His owner quickly found him a new home, but what that had in store for him he could never imagine. The house was big; the owner must have had some money to build it. He didn't know anything about them - how old they would be or what they would look like. Slowly, he emerged from the cage, sniffing around the house. He could smell meat roasting. Arf! Arf! He barked, knowing humans would never know what he was saying. The big dog watched the roasting meat with hungry eyes.

"Oh! He's here," the young woman said, coming up behind the dog. Almost silent, she moved. She looked young for someone who owned such a big house. And honestly, she lived there alone besides a few servants. Young Ki was an adult now, free to live on her own in her parents' mansion. She'd been in foster care most of her life, parents dying in a fire. Her only friend in the world happened to be her dog, Fido. And she and Fido had built an unnatural relationship... Ki smiled, lifting a hand to brush her blonde bangs out of her eyes as she looked down at him. "Smaller than I remember," she said with a little giggle, reaching down to pet him on top of the head before going into the kitchen to fetch him some pork that he seemed interested in. The little blonde was a bit under-dressed, wearing just her apron with nothing beneath it but her panties. She had always been an odd girl, and it was her house...</s>

Evanthra sighed, looking off the side of the ship, and glanced up at the sky. The winds did not seem in their favor...and yet they were leaving. Was this trip really that important? Her pink eyes scanned the surface of the water for a moment before she ran a hand through her long black hair. Maybe she should have cut it before her journey started, but she loved the long locks. The only problem was it would probably be unbearably hot in Midgar during the summer. She turned back to the choppy water, making a face. Hopefully the gods would help them on their journey. She wasn't exactly looking forward to being on a wave-tossed boat for a day while they traveled to Junon. Of course, she was also hoping that she wouldn't somehow get thrown overboard. As the anchors were pulled up and the sail was opened, she made another face.

The days were starting to get boring for an immortal like Cloud... He was starting to want more than what they had... Yet he knew the only way such a thing could be done was if he went and did something about it. Some would describe his hair as quite outrageous, but his attitude towards things was another story altogether. But truth be told, he was starting to get lonely. The other gods were just not enough for him... As he wanted something more... Maybe even a human. In fact, he had already found someone of interest, but now it was just up to him to do something about it. Although his life was almost luxurious, he partially envied the humans. Sure, they lived and died, that was their cycle, but some of the things they got to do... Cloud and the others might be gods, but they just didn't experience things like those humans. He had decided that he would try to blend in and pretend to be one of those people. And well, Cloud had made sure that when he came down from his normal area, to be close to the one he was interested in, called Evanthra. Even now, he watched her as he looked at the boat the two of them and others would be boarding.</s>

The only thing that Jill could think was that they had to stop Wesker, that they had to do it now. If they didn't, he would only go on to create more problems using Umbrella's Legacy as his tool. That is why she was willing to risk her life and as her and her partner, Chris Redfield, bore down upon Wesker after he had just killed Spencer in his home. Her form charged his and the next thing she knew, she and Wesker shattered the window and fell together off the very steep cliffside. Somewhere in the midst, she had lost consciousness but with the knowledge that she had stopped Wesker at last. At least, that is what she had thought. It was sometime later, she didn't know how long, that she regained consciousness. She felt horrible, sick even, and she was in some sort of holding cell. Her thoughts went back to Chris and to Wesker and she vaguely wondered if she were dead. Jill couldn't move, but could make out loud noises around her, voices, making out something about... a device? Jill wasn't able to dwell upon their words for long, because it was then that two men came into the cell and shot her up with a needle full of god knows what. She grew lightheaded, then dizzy, and proceeded to fall back into the blackness of drug-induced sleep. Little did she know that when she woke, she would have no control of who she was anymore, her last thought of her partner, Chris.

Unknown to Jill, she was on a ship. After she and Wesker fell from the cliffside, they had been washed out to sea. This was to Wesker's advantage, however, as with his inhuman strength, he dragged Jill unconscious body through a stormy sea until they reached his ship. Wesker had since been working with Tricell, who had given him this ship along with everything he needed for his trip to Kijuju. Once on board, he had Jill taken to the ship's lab to be fitted with an experimental device. Standing over Jill were two scientists dressed in surgical outfits who were busy fitting the device. They had stripped and washed her before they began to work on her. "Be careful with that," one of the scientists shouted at the other, who was being a bit careless with his work. "You saw what he did to Eric!" the scientist added, reminding his friend of the fate of one of their peers, whom accidentally destroyed part of the Las Plagas shipment. The man, Eric, was thrown around the room like a rag doll before suffering a devastating tumor to his chest thanks to a stomp from Wesker's boot. From the comfort of the ship's bridge, Wesker watched the surgery take place on a monitor. Around him, the ship's crew were busy going about their duties. Smiling sadistically, Wesker watched as the device was fitted to Jill's chest. The thought of the power he would have over her filled him with pleasure. "Soon, Jill, your body will be mine!" Wesker muttered to himself as he continued to watch the surgery take place. Soon though it was complete, and the scientists tidied up before leaving. Locking the door behind them just in case. As they left the room, Wesker entered. Making his way to the cell where Jill was, he stood at the window that looked in at her and awaited her to wake up.</s>

The roar of wheels could be heard, rolling down the pavement, this was his music since the battery in his only outlet of music ran out of energy. He wasn't complaining; it was indeed peaceful all things considering. He was moving out of the house he had spent all his life in to live with his father. Though he was eighteen and had all right to move out. He had no money or anything to move out with, so he was forced to turn to his father, whom he had not seen since he was young. All he knew was that his mother called him a crack scientist. Apparently, all of his works she said were useless. Yet nevertheless, he figured it would be interesting to live with him. After all, with him being a crack scientist, there would be a number of odd inventions he could find out how they worked. He himself, was a tinker, more into mechanical marvels than anything scientifically new. He enjoyed building helpful machines rather than boring old stuff. This fact is most likely what enticed his father to let him stay, so he could help him with his machines. This didn't bother him at all, as he would enjoy it. After all, he would be able to have the dogs there. Truly, he missed Mimi and Luna, for he hadn't seen them since he graduated. His mother had basically kicked him out while he was on vacation. Which was one thing that hurt but he saw it coming, after all, he wouldn't let go of his dogs. It was as he was deep in thought that his phone began to ring. 'Yo, Hiro-' was the only thing that was legible through out the conversation. It wasn't long before he pulled up to the shop his father worked at or rather owned. Pulling through the parking lot, he parked in the back, hopping out of the moving truck. "Who would think a crack scientist owned a bakery? Well, let's go see my girls." Hiro spoke, heading to the back door, unlocking it, heading in. He wasn't surprised that it was slightly messy in the back, with one staircase going up and another going down. He figured his dogs were upstairs, so he began heading up. "Mimi, Luna! I'm here, girls!" Hiro yelled wondering when he would hear the patter of paws. He was surprised at the size of the upstairs, which had two levels, he was on the first level, which should help. He slowly opened the door, unaware of what he would find.

It had truly been a long time since Hiro had even seen his father. Ever since the divorce, there had been many tensions between him and Hiro's mother. However, she had gotten tired of living with him and had quickly sent him off to live with his father, who certainly wasn't her favorite person in the world. Of course, his father was certainly an odd individual who had prided himself of being a scientist, perhaps not the most successful though. He had managed to get some odd experiments to work, but so far there was nothing worth commending. Upon hearing of Hiro coming to live with him, he had been at work once again. In a brief conversation with him, he had mentioned quite a surprise for him, though never went into any detail... His two dogs had been moved from his mother's house to his father's, as she wasn't fond of having to take care of them alone. After all, it was Hiro who was constantly looking over them and playing with them. Both were healthy females: Mimi, an energetic Border Collie, and Luna, and tough Siberian Husky. It had been a long time indeed since Hiro had seen them, and they would certainly be just as excited as he was to see them. Unknown to him however, this pair of canines had a major part in his father's experiments, but he had no way of knowing that quite yet. It would have to wait until Hiro had discovered it himself, and he would certainly be shocked. Nobody thought it would ever happened, but his father had really outdone himself this time. As he walked up the stairs calling for them, a few bumps could be heard on the door. If he listened carefully there seemed to be...voices? He hadn't heard anything about visitors. As the door swung open, there was a blur in front of him, and suddenly he could feel himself being pushed back onto the ground, followed by a few licks on his cheek. Certainly he could assume it was his faithful pets, but... "Welcome home Master! We missed you so much!" Sitting right on top of him was a girl, looking like around 17, but she had certain qualities that made her stand out. She had short black hair, with a bit of white at the tips, and what appeared to be a large pair of...dog ears on her head. If he looked behind her, he would see a bushy black tail, swishing wildly from side to side. The color of her hair seemed to match that of his Collie, Mimi. She was wearing only a white bra with a pair of matching panties. Her beautiful blue eyes stared down at Hiro, a bright smile on her face. "I'm so glad to see you again!" she said, again leaning in to lick at his cheek.</s>

Buffy popped into the Magic Box for her afternoon sparring session with Giles. The chime sounded above the door, announcing her entrance, and she cast her gaze around the front of the shop as she shrugged off her ivory canvas jacket, revealing a strappy blue tank top. She tossed the jacket on the back of one of the chairs and looked around for her Watcher. She didn't see him, so it was possible he was already waiting for her or simply caught up in his books on the second level of the shop. Shrugging, she slipped behind the counter and pilfered a bottled water, sipping at it as she meandered casually into the back room. Setting the water aside, she slung a leg, clad in tight dark-wash jeans, up onto the pommel horse and began to have a bit of a stretch. Easing out the tension from her body was always soothing, and she lowered one leg and repeated the cycle with the other, feeling her lithe muscles stretch out and become more flexible with the stretches. The pommel horse having served its purpose for the moment, she bent forward and touched her toes, counting silently in her head. "Bllrgh," she picked the chain of her crucifix necklace from her mouth, it had a habit of getting in the way when she was stretching. Standing upright, she readjusted the chain on her neck with the clasp at the back and the charm centered above her cleavage. She slicked back her hair and fixed her ponytail, wandering around the room as she continued to stretch her arms, holding first one, then the other, behind her head. She was just wasting time now while she waited for Giles.

The man had barely gotten any sleep. All night long, he had stayed awake, mulling over certain ideas, certain concepts. Sure, it was true that he was a Watcher, and a damn good one at that, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all for naught. Something inside him yearned for him to be like he once was, in college, when he claimed to be one of the founders of Pink Floyd. There was nothing here for him. Defending this small town was all for nothing. The citizens would soon be dead anyway. The man put on a sweater, after getting out of bed, and headed downstairs. There was a new aura about him. He put his glasses on during the walk down and sighed as he got to the training room. The bags under his eyes were semi-obvious, though to notice them, you really had to be looking. "Well, are we ready?" He asked her with his usual British accent. He had something on his mind other than training that day. He had always wanted something more. He had always wanted Buffy to need him as he needed her. His hands were clasped together behind his back and he seemed limber enough, he needed no stretching. He had many tricks up his sleeve for this fight. With him, he had many artifacts. Including, a pair of almost unbreakable handcuffs, a blindfold, and even a gag, should he need to use it. The man kept his glasses on, and had the items stowed away on his person, unbeknownst to her. The man then looked at her and smiled. He would cut off the head, after Buffy, the rest should be easy. "Well... Shall we?" He said as he took his fighting stance. Something from Ancient Chinese arts, something he was well fascinated with. He would look for her to attack and disable her that way, maybe feed off her need for sex and affection. Something she couldn't have as the town's slayer. . .</s>

It was their 6th year at Hogwarts, and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were, like the rest of Gryffindor House, celebrating a hard won Quidditch victory in their first game of the season. Students from 1st year to 7th year were joining in with the celebrations, almost deafening music echoing all around, students dancing all over the place, some a little closer than others, while the Butterbeer, with a little added kick to celebrate the special occasion, was flowing freely. Some of the 1st years were already passed out, especially those who'd never had a drop of alcohol before, but the older students still seemed to be partying hard, and they were certainly showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Even Hermione, who normally had little time for parties like this, was getting fully into the swing of things, gulping down a butterbeer, letting herself relax for once. With a laugh, she nearly slammed down her glass, refilling it before taking another sip, turning to head back to the dance floor, grabbing both Ron and Harry as she passed them, laughing and pulling them along with her. "Come on boys! Let's dance and have some fun!" It was clear that the butterbeer had gotten to Hermione, but then again, Ron didn't care. He liked Hermione this way, more carefree, not always quoting rules and trying to tell them why they shouldn't do something. With a laugh, Ron followed her out to the dance floor, beginning to join with her movements, though as the dancing progressed, and Hermione had a little more butterbeer, she seemed to be dancing a little closer to the two boys. As she moved, her ass would occasionally rub against their groin areas, turning to ensure both boys received the same treatment, though whether she was doing it on purpose or simply by accident, it was hard to tell....

It wasn't even eight o'clock yet, and Harry Potter was drunk -- not from alcohol, though, but from adrenaline and happiness. Gryffindor had won the first Quidditch match of season, and having totally obliterated Hufflepuff 240-30, the team was off to a marvelous start. Now the entire team, and truthfully, the whole House, was in the common room celebrating the victory in the best way they knew how: partying. The Gryffindor House was rather notorious for such things, and not all of the party games and activities were very school appropriate... They knew how to have a good time, and even McGonagall knew when to turn a blind eye to some of the festivities, as long as everybody cleaned up after themselves and they didn't do anything too crazy, such as set fire to the tapestries, or enchant the furniture and throw it out the windows so it would fly across the grounds, or send very crudely written 'love letters' to Professor Snape in the middle of the night. Harry couldn't stop grinning. After much insistence on Seamus' part, he took a shot of the Firewhiskey. He flinched and coughed as it burned its way down his throat. Eyes watering, he looked around, just in time to see Hermione passing him, as well as Ron, laughing and making their way to the spot in the middle of the room where a lot of people were dancing. Harry found himself laughing as well as they all danced together, and also found himself wondering where the night might lead... the way Hermione was grinding against him and Ron, he had a few ideas... "We should give you butterbeer more often, Hermione," Harry remarked with laughter. It was very rare to see Hermione this loose and uninhibited, just having fun instead of constantly worrying. Harry found that he quite enjoyed this side of her, but he loved every side of Hermione Granger. "I think the party might be starting to wind down," he added after a few moments. Indeed, there were less people dancing now, and it had quieted down somewhat. In fact, a lot of people were coupling off, either sneaking upstairs, or making out brazenly on the chairs and couches, some of them half-naked already. Harry gulped, and let his hands slip around Hermione's waist. "Do you reckon it might be time to turn in?" he asked, to no one in particular, and it was clear in his voice what he really meant.</s>

Slowly moving through the trees, a tall slender tan-colored figure crept along as it searched for something to eat. Its gold and green eyes glimmered brightly in the afternoon sun that flitted through the treetops. The lopunny slowly hopped along an overgrown path through the woods in search of roots or berries to eat. She had both of her dainty small hands pressed close to her rather large chest. The lopunny sighed as she paused and looked around with a tiny frown upon her slightly pouty lips. She wasn't very good at hunting since she hadn't had to find food for herself since she was a very young pokegirl, back when she was still a bunary. That was before she evolved. Jewel, for that was the lopunny's name, was a beautiful pokegirl. She was tall and slender, standing at about 5'8" and weighing 120 lbs. Her figure was a little curvy with slender shoulders and a tiny waist that flared out into wider hips with long firm legs. Her legs were a little muscular and firm, showing off the amazing strength she had. At the end of her legs she had tiny feet. The pokegirls fur was a silky chocolate brown, but her front from her nose all the way down to between her legs back to near her tail was a cream color. Her calves and feet were the same color, as well as the lower half of her ears and the fluffy fur around her wrists. She had a fluffy tail right above her perky tight round ass. Her eyes were big with long eyelashes framing the forest green and golden orbs and she had a cute little pink nose that wrinkled slightly when ever she smiled. As she thought of her owner, her floppy ears moved to cover her eyes a little before she shook her head and pushed all the thoughts of her past out of her mind. They were depressing thoughts and she didn't want to think about it at the moment. So she lifted her cute little nose into the air and sniffed before smiling when she caught the scent of some berries. Smiling a little wider, she moved in the direction that she could smell them from and spotted a bush with the berries. Moving over to it, she began picking and eating the fruit.

Not too far away from the berries the Lopunny had spied, a young man lay on a bed of leaves, one leg crossed over his other leg, bent as it was, his foot swaying idly through the air. Halloway Michaels, something of a starting trainer, had clear blue eyes focused on the sky high above, of a similar shade of blue. He'd only recently started his journey, and had only one pokegirl; a flat-chested Rattata he got from his older brother. Unlike well, most pokegirls, this one wasnt very attractive at all, but she was wild, and surprisingly strong. Perfect for capturing weaker, prettier pokegirls. The purple-furred Tina sat with her legs crossed several feet from her master, Halloway. He stood at a rather impressive 62, with dirty blonde hair that framed a handsome tan face. His strong chest and wide shoulders were covered with a somewhat tight black shirt, over which he wore a dull green jacket with the sleeves rolled up. He wore jeans and a pair of hiking boots besides, and his leather bag lay below his head, though the stuff he had in- his bag didnt make for a good pillow. As Tina stood up and with her keen nose became aware of the nearby Lopunny, she knelt down. Master, she whispered, and Halloway pushed himself into a sitting position. Yeah, Tina? he asked, brushing his rear off as he stood up. Tina pointed, and a wide grin spread over Halloways face as he caught sight of Jewel. She was a 10 by any scale, with such a hot, tight little body. Halloway reached into his bag for the necessary pokeball to catch this wonderful little prize. Tina, tackle, he said, and with Halloway grinning the entire time, Tina launched herself at Jewel. The thin, strong pokegirl caught Jewel around the waist in mid-leap, landing with her in a heap on the berry bush. The ripe berries, thick and red, burst on impact, covering the two girls with the sweet juices of the berries. Feeling himself already start to harden, he threw the pokeball at Jewel, the ball cracking open on contact, red energy covering her furred body, before it coalesced into a bright pink collar around her neck. Unlike normal pokemon, the pokegirls couldnt be confined to a pokeball; instead, it formed a collar on them, which still declared them as property of a trainer.</s>

It was late at night and Ava found it difficult to sleep. Every since she laid down at around 9pm, well, she couldn't seem to find a comfortable spot. Not to mention her mind was filled with so many memories of the past few days. Mostly, it started out so simple. She came into the sterile room where marines had restrained a half dazed #24. The drugs used on the young Xenomorph would surely wear off in a few moments, but it was enough time to strap the female to a familiar steel table and leave her completely exposed to Ava's poking and prodding. Things had become so innocent and logical. Testing the female's reaction to pain and other stimulation. Slowly working the young female over until finally they had gotten to a point where they noticed just how human this one was becoming. Her genitalia was similar to that of the human female. It swelled when aroused and became slick with a strange substance. At first, they thought it might be as corrosive as the xeno's blood, but no. It was moist and sticky. Things progressed drastically after that... From teasing and toying to actual sexual stimulation. Coaxing an orgasm from the animal until finally they received a sample of her fluids. It was tested to see if there were any toxic agents within. None. If anything, there seemed to be something that encouraged sexual chemicals to be released. Almost as though the creature was built to coax it's lover to want it more and more. It had been tested on Ava. She tasted the sample and felt a warm tingle within her. Nothing strange or different, but she spent the night aching for something, anything... Now, Ava lay awake and all she could think about was #24 in her confinement. It seemed unfair. To have such a beautiful creature secreted away like that. #24 deserved better. She wasn't like the other Xenomorphs they kept under lock and key. She certainly wasn't like the Queen that had spawned her. #24 was a rare, beautiful gem among scientific discoveries. It was also speculated that #24 might be able to breed like her mother. That #24 wasn't a mindless drone, but a young queen herself. Those were the thoughts that killed Ava's mind as she got out of bed and redressed herself in what she wore that day. Shrugging on her lab coat and grabbing her identification, she made her way down to the ship's hull where they kept the different subjects separated. Probably one of the most dangerous places to be, but she didn't care. She needed to see #24 again. If only to talk to the creature. Ha. Think about it... a human... wanted to talk to a Xenomorph. Was there anything more ridiculous then that? Then again, Ava suspected that #24 was learning and understood more then most of them knew. "At ease, Soldier", she breathes. Holding up her tag, she flashes a stiff smile. "I'm merely here to check in on the subject." "We didn't receive any orders of a late night visit, Dr. Bradley." The soldier, an older man in his mid-30s to early-40s regards her with some amount of suspicion. "Yes, well, I'm the doctor here, aren't I? And that's my project in there. Let me through so I can check on it." Yes, she has to keep her voice neutral almost cool. #24 couldn't be anything to her other then some creature they were studying. "Are you going to let me pass or will I have to contact your superior and tell him that we have a problem?" A frown touches the older man's lips. He obviously doesn't care for the doctors. Still, he lets her pass, but not before asking Ava if she needs the subject restrained first. "No, I've been working with this one and we have an understanding." That gives the make a moment to look confused before Ava brushes past him. All it takes after that are a few pass codes, another conversation with another guard detail and then she stands in front of #24's room. With a slow breath, she starts punching in the numbers. This is dangerous. Going into a room with an unrestrained Xenomorph. There's a chance that #24 had been drugged for the evening, but Ava has no clue. Once the door slides open, she steps inside. "Twenty-four?", she calls out softly, hoping her voice would sound familiar to the creature. "Are you awake, girl?"

While there was still some debate among the scientists on whether or not the Xenomorphs actually needed things like sleep, for what those arguments were worth, Xenomorph Specimen #24 was still fully active when the good Doctor accessed the blast door separating her isolation cell from the rest of the facility. Alerted already by the sounds of the locks disengaging, the hybrid Xenomorph had scurried up the walls of her isolation cell, easily blending in with the dark-colored resin she had been creating ever since she had finished maturing. Already, the room and its atmosphere strongly resembled that of a Nest. She had been learning at an advanced rate when compared to her brethren, a combination of the communal Hive intelligence between them, and her own advanced nature. It was through her that most of the Xenomorphs knew of where they were, and where the prey was. She knew to stay away from the doors, to draw the humans into her domain. She had covered the vents that emitted the gas that sedated her with her resin, making it a much more difficult task of retrieving her. As the door growled open - a sound that she just as much felt as heard - she felt the wash of cooler air as it stabbed into the more humid and warm atmosphere her kind favored, carrying with it the scent of two humans - one unknown male and one familiar female. Curiosity. The sound that the female made, as well as her unique scent, instantly gave #24 the exact location she was standing at. She slithered across the ceiling, silent death packed into her jet-black frame. Had she not been so intrigued, she could have killed the two of them before they were ever aware of her presence. She let out a threatening hiss that was quickly absorbed by the room, before dropping down in front of the open door, landing perfectly. Her human-like body quivered, her attention focused not on the woman, but the panicking guard with the object in his hands. She could smell his terror, instincts drove her. Danger. Threat. Kill. Inside her mind, the other Xenomorphs were also screaming for blood, she had a clear path of escape. Free them, make a Hive, spread. And for a ponderous moment she almost struck out at the pair. Gradually though, she turned her attention to the female. #24 knew her scent, the specific sound her voice made, her image. She studied the human female with a dark curiosity that much of her species lacked, rushed images of memory stirring about in her mind. Prey? Distorted fragments of memory, the woman. White space, cold against her, warm within. Unknown feelings stimulating every nerve ending. The woman. Soft touches, something inside. Trembling. Soft sounds. Pure, enrapturing whiteness. The woman. Ally. Cocking her head slightly, she let out a soft hiss and seemed to relax, despite the enraged shrieks of the other Xenomorphs drifting in her mind. Once again, she proved her abnormality by purposely shutting out their presence, functioning independently from the Hive Mind?her own being. Despite the fact that she beat the human in height by nearly two feet, she crouched down to be almost at an eye level with her, her whip-like tail lowering in a more subdued manner. But it was that same tail that was an ever present reminder to the guard of the danger that he was staring at. Was the woman mad? She had willingly opened an isolation cell containing an unsedated specimen! He had been part of the USCM for several years before Weyland-Yutani had hired him to protect their twisted little pet projects. He had seen combat on dozens of worlds during his career, and yet these creatures made him want to piss his pants. And yet this woman, completely unarmed, without even as much as a bulletproof vest, was standing less than five feet from one. He gripped the M41A a little bit tighter, taking a step backwards, if only to be just one step farther away from this killing machine and the crazed woman who had released her. Why weren't they dead yet? Movement! #24 let out a shrieking hiss, her attention snapping completely back on the guard, her bladed tail whipping angrily as saliva drooled from her lips, rising back up to her full height of nearly eight feet. The panicked guard whipped the pulse rifle at the poised Xenomorph, his grim face almost sheet white. He could feel a warm stain spreading across the front of his combat fatigues. #24 trembled, every muscle in her body taut and ready to lunge, tear the human apart, but the woman stood in her way. She could not harm her. Fighting against generations of instinct, she hissed dejectedly, but withdrew, lowering her form and almost sulking back into the depths of her cell.</s>

"Almost time..." Thunderbolt thought to himself as he stood in his room, looking out over the city below. He was an older man, once a hero, but he'd split off and started his own group... taking his dark secret with him. The secret of having raped a villain named Jynx years ago, one that had produced a daughter, who was now all grown up and part of his new group. One that looked so much like her mother... one with whom he had sex constantly. Not like she seemed to mind; he always brought her to climax and she always begged for it.

The girl Thunderbolt had sired, his dark little secret was named Clover, for her extraordinary luck. But despite her own luck, she was a bit of a klutz, and many called her Jinx Jr., both for the way she dressed and the misfortune she often unintentionally brought on those around her. As Clover arrived at her father's door, she wiped her tears on her sleeve. The sessions may have been secretly enjoyable, but she hated them all the same, a constant reminder to the petite 16-year-old of who she was and why she could never have a normal life. Father had drilled that into her long ago.</s>

The sensors set the door to shut behind them, and with the door's sound came the culmination of the day's surreal feel. It was like a period at the end of a sentence, a sentence Anakin had been crucial in crafting, yet even now was unsure of its necessity. It bore a degree of gravity, though, a very real degree; an undeniable swan song of what they once were, and could never be again. The Imperial Senate had been slain on Coruscant only two days prior, as had the Jedi Council, his own brethren, and all by his hands... Wincing his eyes shut as all that had occurred really settled into his mind, lingering just inside the door of the royal chamber he and his wife would share for the evening, Anakin swallowed down the lump in his throat, swallowing it all the way to the pit of his stomach. He reached out to press his palm against the scanner beside the door. With a few soft beeps and a simple word, "Lock," that was it. The day of fear-inspired parades and speeches of a new future had officially drawn to a close with the shutting of their bedroom door. In the wake of all the bloodshed his wife had emerged to an imperial throne as Empress, and he her very capable right hand. Had it been right? Anakin's touch lingered against the scanner, almost leaning against it, his shoulders bearing a slight slump and his head in a defeated bow. Padme had urged him one direction and Palpatine - Sidious - another. Both wanted killing. Both wanted the murders he'd been driven to, rounding up those capable of standing against him and cutting through them with a brilliant, unwavering blade. Sidious' desires had been for domination, to rule, with Anakin as his second and one day heir. Padme... Padme wanted peace, didn't she? Take out the corrupt. Take out those who would protect the corrupt. That left only she and him to rule as the people needed to be, didn't it? It was the same exact thing as Sidious had wanted, sameexact, he knew, staging a violent coup to then be the one on top, just presented in a prettier package. But she was his wife, and his... owner. Her sweet words held a seductive sway over him, like a siren of the sea, willing him to a desire for everything she was. Yet had she not purchased him like a commodity from Watto when he was a young boy, Anakin knew he would always be drawn to her regardless. And what of his master, Obi-Wan? The sorrow in the Jedi's face had cut Anakin deep, though not nearly as deep as he'd likely cut his teacher. Whether or not Obi-Wan had any clue what drove Anakin to the murders, whether or not he'd noticed, truly noticed the darkness taken root and growing within him for years now, the former Padawan could not be sure. He knew only that the Jedi Master had not slain him when he'd had the chance - nor had Anakin slain him either. Both hesitated. Clashes of their deadly blades had come without recourse, but each time the opportunity of an ending blow surfaced, neither took it. Perhaps... perhaps each had, once or twice, left themselves open in hope that the other would simply end their pain. Sidious had been a different story. The man had been dark. Vile. Worse than those he wished to replace. Sidious had been a tool for Anakin to hone the fermenting pain he'd otherwise been unsure of how to handle. Sidious had taught him much, though was never considered a teacher. Like the rest in his rampage, Anakin cut him down. The only difference was that Sidious, in his death, was revealed to be a Sith Lord, and so the murders that were committed were all put upon him, a corpse whose sentence had already been carried out. Anakin Skywalker was the hero that slew the evil menace, though regretfully arrived too late to stop the carnage. Obi-Wan knew the truth, however. He was the last, and in time Anakin would search him out, but for now... For now Senator Padme Amidala had emerged as the only potential leader left. Her coronation took place near instantly, followed by a day of speeches, an afternoon of parades, and an evening so full of feasting and revelry one could easily forget there had been any deaths to begin with. But now... now Anakin was alone with his thoughts. Alone, with his wife. His owner. His mistress, and his love. The Jedi's palm lingered against the scanner as he remained there in thought. A confrontation with Obi-Wan was inevitable, whether the man sought to expose the truth or not. The potential was there, and he knew his keeper would order the man to be found, feelings aside. Would he need to atone when that time came? Or steel himself, steel what he had done and follow this course to the end, right or wrong? ...It didn't matter. He was allowed his opinions, he was allowed his thoughts, but when it came down to it Anakin Skywalker was not allowed his will. Empress Padme Amidala, formerly of Naboo and now of everything within billions of light years of reach, was the controller of his conscience. As much as he hated to think about it, at the same time he loved it. And he hated that truth more than anything. Yet he loved her too much to ever want it to change. "We've had a big day," he finally said after a solid minute, relaxing his stance but otherwise not moving. "I'm... tired. As you must be too." Hopefully she wouldn't have the energy for it tonight. Hopefully she would. Finally turning, dressed in loose white Jedi robes with a formal red and gold design for the day's grand occasion, Anakin spoke as he approached their evening's bed, his eyes moving anywhere but to her own. "It'll be even bigger tomorrow. Coruscant's fleet is prepared as you asked to take us to a number of important planets so we may firmly establish your rule. We need only to pack, and to board in the morning when we are ready."

There was a saying: "I am honored, humbled, even ..." Absolute power corrupts absolutely. "I will bring forth peace and prosperity for all ..." Was it true? "In the wake of what turned out to be a tragically avoidable massacre, we will emerge stronger than ever ..." Was it really impossible for a single person to rule justly? "With the Imperial Senate dissolved, we shall wash our hands of it's corruption and inefficiency ..." Could such power be safely vested in one former Senator? "Together we shall embark on a new era-- the era of the first Galactic Empire ..." Was this no more than a glorified dictatorship? "I promise, I will not lead you astray ..." Did promises mean anything anymore? Such questions and more were ample food for thought, but none dared to speak out loud. Padme Amidala was named Empress in a smothering silence. There was scarcely a heavy breath amongst the entire audience. When at last the coronation was complete, the applause was at first hesitant, as though her constituents were unsure whether or not such a thing would be acceptable - but eventually the applause turned thunderous and the cheers roaring. In such elation it was easy to forget those hard-hitting questions. It was easy to celebrate and revere the Empress' success, to trust her and feel hopeful despite the carnage of the past several days. A new era, indeed. And while Empress Amidala may have overwhelming support on Coruscant, that wasn't enough for her. In the next few weeks she would campaign nonstop until she had the unanimous 'vote' of the most vital sectors in the Imperial Core: Illodia, Alderaan, Corellia, Brentaal IV, and Humbarine, which would be the most difficult to win over of all. As if the galaxy had any choice but to accept her anyway. That was true, but Padme knew that if she could give speeches, organize parades or throw banquets, if she could only capture their ear for a moment or two, that she'd have them hooked. That was how politics worked. You had to gain the people's support, but you had to make them think that it was their idea. Padme was confident. It was easy to love her. Her physical beauty alone lent itself well to adoration, even worship. That coupled with her intelligence, her charm, her grace and strength and humility made her the perfect candidate in every sense. One gentle smile, one squeeze of the shoulder, one warm, inviting glance was all it ever took to draw them in. Her way with words took care of the rest. It came naturally to her, the words pouring from her lips like a deadly lullaby which lulled her subjects into a coma of obedience and faithfulness whether they liked it or not. And there was none so obedient and faithful than her dear husband. Sweet Anakin. He would do anything she asked and more. She could look into his eyes and make the most horrific requests and know that he would carry out every abominable task without question or complaint; though she could see in his own eyes how he broke a little bit each time. Padme would always be there when he came crawling back. And every time she would pick up the shattered pieces and recast them into something sturdier and more menacing than before. The Anakin she had met all those years ago on Tatooine was long gone, and in his place was a new man of Padme's own creation, a strong and dutiful soldier molded from the pliable clay of death and chaos and destruction. Padme heard the door swish open. She saw Anakin's reflection in the corner of her mirror, his tall, broad body lingering near the door like an uncertain boy half his age. She grew a little tired of it sometimes, when he was like this. As if she couldn't sense his complacency, his sadness and confusion which mostly boiled down to a rather dark and primitive fury. But she said nothing, made no biting remark or insult, barked no order at him. She waited until he spoke first. When he did, Padme, perched on a comfortable chair in front of vanity, turned to face him. She offered him a kind, but knowing, smile. So it would be this game again. He too "tired", and she having to coax him into it, to draw him forth (sometimes sweetly, sometimes brutally) from his denial and into the throes of undeniable passion. Try as he might, there was no escaping it - and perhaps even worse, there was no escape from the fact that he always,alwaysloved every second of it. "Tired?" she repeated, as she stood up to meet him at the foot of the bed. The silky ivory fabric of her night gown pooled at her feet, and draped over her body loosely, yet was just sheer enough to reveal a tease of the curves and softness that lay beneath. With her hair freed from elaborate the elaborate headdresses of the day, and laying in relaxed curls across her shoulders, she looked almost like a goddess. Anakin, I can't feel anything but thrilled... I'd thought-- I'dhopedthat you would feel the same. Today was a monumental event, a true milestone for the future of the galaxy." She reached up and cupped his cheek in her small hand and turned his head, forcing him to look at her directly. "While I'm sure being on your feet all afternoon was tiring," and there it was, the sting that cut through the honey of her voice to strip his defenses, "the day is not quite over yet." Padme smiled a little, again, and slipped her hand to the nape of his neck, where slender fingers twisted in sandy brown hair and pulled, hard, yanking his head back. She kissed the exposed column of his throat, almost affectionately, and then whispered into his ear, "You forget; sleep, especially in my bed, is a luxury that you must earn." She released his hair and ran her hand down his chest now, where she could feel the rapid thud of his heart, which was already beginning to race. She smirked. "Tell me, Anakin, just how tired are you? What might you be willing to do for the pleasure of sleeping beside me?"</s>

His mother had always said that when the world goes to shit, keep up a hobby. Eoin kept plants, and by God, he kept them well. His little garden down in his lab-turned-home was sort of like a barometer for the condition of the world, an inverse relation between the beauty and majesty of those little ordered plants (all named and numbered, of course, in his tiny, neat writing) and the hell the outside world had become. The more work Frank had him do, the better he took care of the plants. Sometimes he mixed the two, work and home: people made a fantastic mulch. Tending his plants gave him a sort of peace that he could only now find in what had become personal experiments. He was a geologist, but the work Frankie had him on was completely unrelated to the untrained eye. To him, it was just his subject fast forwarded: a little pressure here, the meeting of two unmovable forces, some heat, wait a bit and people, societies were just like rocks. His job was to find where to place the TNT. He was good at that. Damn good. Sometimes, when he'd done particularly well, Fra No, Atlas was what he went by these days, but either way, he was still the same handsome, charming man - sometimes he sent flowers and a little handwritten note with promises, sweet words and apologies for leaving him alone. At forty-three-goddamned years old, he couldn't help but melt like ice dropped in a hot cup of coffee. In the beginning, his lab assistants, mostly women but all aware that he was an old fruit, would tease him fondly when he tucked away a new note into his breast pocket. They'd always go out for drinks afterwards, and the lanky Irishman, prim and proper and oh so very much the professor, would buy them all a few rounds, handsome face going as red as his hair as the night went on. They'd all stumble back to their own places or, if the need arose, to someone else's, stupid smiles on their faces as they bid each other good night. No one smiled at him anymore. And instead of laughter, all he ever heard was the thump-thump-thump of a wrench as some poor sod tried to get into the lab, or perhaps the long screech of one of those hooked madmen. If he did hear laughing that was even worse: the only people that managed a good guffaw these days were completely rotted out in their brains. When he went out, he heard gunshots. No one messed with him, of course: he was Atlas' man, easily recognizable since he no longer had to hide it. And if some of Ryan's dogs came for him, well, he had access to more body guards than anyone other than Ryan himself. Atlas, after all, was too valuable to go out, so little ol' Eoin did it. In the beginning, it had bothered him; but this was the right thing to do, right? Ryan was the one that hated charity and all, and Frank had seen the widening gap between the haves and the have nots and set out to fix it. Oh, sure, some of the methods were questionable, but wasn't these days? If you could get bread in the mouths of hungry kids, what did it matter that a few two-bit wannabe mobsters ended up shot full of lead in the streets? And Frank spoke so gently to him, never called him names nor bit him with words; Eoin couldn't believe half the things they said about what the man did. No, Frank was a good sort, and once this all settled down, Rapture would be better for it. Some days, if he spent enough time with his plants, he actually believed that lie, and that was enough to keep him jumping at the short wave radio as it crackled to life. He had to go set another charge in another crack in the unmovable wall that was Andrew Ryan. Because Eoin Griffiths knew that if you set enough and found the right spots, you could bring down any mountain. It was just a matter of time and pressure.

Dr. Winston felt unwell. It was the noise - he was sure he would be fine without it, but it pounded into his head in a way that made his vision pulsate and left him sitting with his face in his hands because moving made him feel sick to his stomach. The noise - he had no idea what it was - came from the other side of the door, and it had been going on for days or weeks, he couldn't tell anymore. He had work to do, didn't they know that? But they just kept making noise, causing a racket just on the other side of the door. He'd lost track of how long it had been since he'd had peace and quiet. He had to finish his work; people were relying on him to finish it, needed it done faster, needed it done yesterday. But he'd lost his last assistant not so long ago, and he had no idea where she had gone to either. It occurred to him that there used to be other people in the lab too, but they were gone as well, he just couldn't quite remember where they'd gone to. He just knew they were gone. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was finishing his work. He just needed some quiet. He just needed a little peace so he could finish up, that was all. If he could have that, then he could get it done; it was important after all. As he walked around the stainless steel table, the heel of his boot dragged through a thick, congealing pool of blood and smeared across the otherwise pristine white floor. Kevin wasn't entirely sure what to do; he hadn't even really made the decision to move to Rapture, he'd just thought it sounded nice and he'd gone because his brother would be there, but he had been a little strange lately and hadn't come around since New Year's - that was nearly two weeks ago - and that meant that Kevin would have to decide what to do on his own. He picked his brain for the solution and discovered it wasn't coming easily to him because, really, this wasn't something he'd had to think about before. He'd managed to bar his front door shut using a tea trolley, but the wild thrashing on the other side didn't seem to be dying down; it had been happening a lot lately, but they usually gave up after a few minutes - this one had kept on for nearing an hour now, and it was making him think he might actually have to do something about it. Rapture had gone funny lately, and since New Year's people had begun to act strangely - it had started off small, reports of violent attacks within the city. It happened sometimes, even in a place like Rapture, but after a day or two the reports had become more frequent until they had stopped coming altogether and now the radio would only play smooth jazz and had stopped giving any news at all. Initially, Kevin had thought this might be a good sign; maybe there was just nothing to report, but he became certain something was off around the time people had started trying to knife his door open. They screamed, too; not a normal sort of scream either - it was a piercing shriek and usually they were talking, but it was a lot of nonsense and they kept trying to get in. Generally he would just turn up the radio and wait for them to go away like unwanted Jehovah's witnesses, and usually it worked, but this one was very persistent and Kevin was sitting on the floor in front of the tea trolley trying to figure out what he should do about it. He reached up and plucked a stale sugar cookie from the tray above him and quietly chewed on it; he didn't want to go out there - that was pretty clear. Of course, he couldn't stay in his living room forever either - eventually he would need to leave. He'd stopped worrying about getting to work; he was sure that his excuse was a legitimate one - people were constantly trying to get into his home with sharp things. Not just one person, either, it was all different ones and it was just good carpentry that had kept them out. There was another of those piercing shrieks and the trolley rattled against Kevin's back so hard that he peered over the edge of it and found the end of what appeared to be a glaive sticking through his door, the tip roughly an inch from his own eye. Kevin swallowed the bit of cookie as the blade was wrenched from the other side and pulled back out; over the weeks, the door had started to splinter in places, and now there was a sizeable hole that he could see through and out the other side - and he found a bloodshot eye looking back at him through it. "Please go away," Kevin whined, leaning against the trolley as the pounding on the door began again, and the eye was gone, so he could only assume the person on the other side was throwing herself against it. Alright, maybe being polite wasn't the solution, "I really - um, if you're trying to sell something, this is honestly getting ridiculous. Do you have a manager? I might need to speak to him." He was answered with a series of incoherent shrieks, more pounding; the door splintered, "Look, you sound like a reasonable person," he lied loudly, trying to make himself heard over the uncontrolled screaming, "Can't we just talk this over? In fact, we don't even need to talk - you could just stop trying to knock my door down and go away, and this will be solved. I'll even deal with the damage myself - I can fix it, no problem. Really." The pounding stopped. The noise stopped. Everything stopped except for Kevin's breathing and he stood there for a long moment, stone still, listening for anything - there was nothing. He let out a breath of relief - only slightly too soon, because then there was hammering and the sound of metal on metal. He barely had time to think because the door was suddenly gone, and all that was standing between him and the crazed woman was the flimsy cart and a tray of cookies; she was short and squat, middle-aged, dressed in a blood-stained purple frock, and her eyes were rolling around in their sockets without any real purpose. And she was very heavy, Kevin discovered as he tried to keep her away from his throat; he didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt anyone. She was strong though; too strong. He knew he should have been able to hold her off of him physically, but the power she was exerting was tremendous, and he ended up reaching for anything he could get a hold of - which turned out to be a stainless steel serving tray - and cracked her across the head with it until she stopped trying to kill him. And unfortunately, that didn't happen until there was a lot of blood everywhere, and Kevin stood clutching the badly dented tray over his head, ready to strike again if the need arose, but it finally registered that there wasn't much left to hit. "Oh god." he said. This was why he didn't usually make decisions.</s>

"Gah, where could they be?" Mikura asked herself, getting increasingly frustrated that the would-be killer she was chasing seemed to have gotten away. She was currently searching for the assassin in a dank, dark abandoned parking garage. She was determined to catch this person, but she didn't realize that the assassin had led her into an ambush - one where she was alone and couldn't call for backup.

Suddenly, Mezzo would hear the doors of the garage slide shut and lock one by one. Soon she was in complete and utter darkness... however that all changed when a large single light bulb switched on at the top of the garage, showing the area she was standing in. Then she heard a chuckle... and a woman with short blue hair and an eye patch came out. She was dressed in a blue and white maids outfit and wore blue gloves with studs and large fighting boots. If the description of the assailant didn't give her away, the blood on her outfit sure did. "'My oh my,'" said the spider to the fly," she chuckled. "'Stupid, stupid...stupid.' You fell right into my trap. Secluded warehouse... no one to hear for miles and miles... and you came alone. Only us and my other girls... and all the exits are blocked. Now... this is where you beg for fucking mercy... like the useless piece of shit you are!" She laughed. "You can start begging... NOW!"</s>

The wind whipped over the cliffs and crags of the rocky shore; driving sea spray and long-winged gulls ahead of it. It blew hale and hearty over forest and hill, rushing at last past the pennants snapping high on the towers of Tintagel Castle. The banner that flew highest was one not seen in many years; the Pendragon, rampant and in glory. Beneath it danced a simpler banner of white with a red cross. The stones of the great caste had seemed to shine all the brighter since the dragon and the cross were hoisted up together; proclaiming something far grander than even the dragon alone had once meant. Word, faster than even the speeding zephyr, had spread. The sword of Uther had been pulled from the stone, the Pendragon's heir was found, and claimed his birthright. Arthur, proclaimed son of Uther Pendragon and Lady Igraine of Cornwall, was by right High King of all Britain. Already lords and knights called on Tintagel, refreshed, cleaned and restored almost overnight, as if by magic, to swear fealty to the king. Rumor, faster than lightning, snapped back and spoke in whispers of lords who renounced Arthur's claim and were rallying their armies to march forth and defeat this upstart who claimed the Pendragon's throne. Urien of Rheged and Lot of Orkney led them, and their forces were strong. So it was that in the early light of morning, with the sun just cresting over the horizon, the young king was found in the council chamber alone. Arthur was tall, larger than most men by a hand or more, with broad shoulders and a powerful but flexible and quick warrior's build. His face was strong and noble, handsome, and startlingly young. No beard or moustache covered his cheeks, his clear features open to view for all. His hair was the gold of honey held up to the sunlight, falling down to the nape of his neck, and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky. His clothes were finer than any he had ever worn in memory; as the foster son of Sir Ector, he had been cared for but finery went to his foster brother Kay. He seemed almost ill at ease in the rich garments; decked in gold and white. A simple dagger was stuck in his belt; though on the table beside him was the sheathed sword that had announced the truth of his identity to the world only weeks ago. In front of him several maps were rolled out, parchment beside them having notes scribbled upon them. A few pins decorated with ribbons of various colors were pushed into one of them. Arthur looked at it grimly. "Orkney and Rheged from the north. Cornwall and Lyonesse from the south." If he stayed here, he would be caught between the two forces. The knights and lords who had sworn fealty advised him to stay at Tintagel, so store up supplies and let the opposing forces beat themselves against its walls. "And it would seem like wisdom, except that the ant knows if the spider is at the hill, it's too late." "Then that lesson, at least, was well learned." The king, more a boy than a man still, jerked his head up. By the door was a man taller than Arthur, but lean and wiry. He was clad in robes and a cloak ruffled in feathers, with a copper-bladed sword at his side and a tall oaken staff in his hands. His eyes were never the same color twice, his face both young and ancient, his hair long and gathered back by a leather thong. "Merlin," Arthur breathed out, "I had thought you gone to the Wood." "I was," the druid answered, "and I have returned." He looked over at the table, picking up a few of the parchments. He nodded. "I see my lessons were not the only ones you heeded." The young king smiled a bit, though the expression did not reach his eyes. Already many cares were on him. "Kay wasn't going to read them. At least Sir Ector didn't waste his gold." He looked back at the map. "I don't think I can win, Merlin." The magician looked out the window, his face impassive. "Many of those who've sworn fealty are keeping their armies at home, waiting to see how this turns out. Those loyal...are not enough." "They never are," Merlin commented. He looked over at the young man, not even in his second decade. "And they always are." Arthur looked at the older looking man with a wry expression. "More riddles for me to solve?" A flicker of a genuine smile crossed his face for a moment. Then he walked over to the stand beside Merlin at the window. "I suppose they will have to be." He looked out at the rising sun. "Must men truly die for this? So that men who swore oaths will honor them?" Merlin looked over at him. "You know the answer. It is the way of Might." The king nodded. "I see the truth to your lectures on Might now. If only we men were better creatures." Merlin looked over at him. "If you win, they will be." Arthur blinked at him. "Now, let us break fast before the first of today's messengers and noble guests arrive. News, both good and bad, is best taken with a full belly as well as a clear head."

Urien was dead. The King of Rheged had taken violently ill a week prior. He'd been confined to his chambers, to be visited only by the most trusted and renown physicians. Several different diagnoses were made, every treatment and method of healing tried, failed, and tried again. Nobody could stop the swift decay of his body as the mysterious disease swept through him practically overnight. It presented like no other illness anyone had ever seen. But the King's food was diligently tested for poison. And he had been in the Queen's chambers that night, so if anyone had harmed the King, surely she would have witnessed it. None of it made any sense. It was a blessedly quick death. Urien suffered, but for no more than two days. Then he was gone, after a particularly horrific fit of painful and debilitating seizures. It was no way for a King to die, an undignified mess and nothing but a shell of his former self, driven half-insane by his agony, but at least it had not been more prolonged. It was all very unfortunate. Rheged grieved the loss of their great King, and the young Queen was in private mourning. It was rumored that she was too heartbroken to face her people - oh, certainly, how very sad it was that she would never be spoken down to by her husband again. How dreadful that she would never again experience the joy of laying under an old man while he took his pleasure like a dog in heat ... But after a day of this so-called lamentation, she had addressed the court publicly, as regent queen, and informed them that she would be traveling to Camelot to pledge the kingdom's allegiance to the young King Arthur, a young man whose succession was certain to be a rocky one. During her absence, Urien's eldest son, Lowen, would occupy the throne. She would much rather see him there than herself. There were more important issues at hand now. The time had finally come to shed the skin of obedient, stifled Queen and take the reigns of her true destiny. They were less than a day from Camelot now. A messenger had been sent ahead, so as to cordially warn King Arthur of their impending arrival. Morgana was ever the sober and modest widow - this was not meant to be a celebratory vacation after all, but rather a solemn journey weighed with unimaginable grief and sorrow - but inside, she was positively teeming with excitement. She could hardly wait. She had so many ideas, so much to do. But first, she would meet her young brother for the first time since she'd looked into his tiny, round face as an infant. She would get to know him, not only as her King, but as her kin. She would take her rightful place at his court and reap the benefits. Morgana was a widow at twenty-four, but her life was beginning, not ending. They had stopped at a small castle in southern Wales for the afternoon, wishing to rest now in order to travel by night and arrive in Camelot by morning. It didn't matter - she couldn't sleep. There was a knock at the door. Morgana, who had been laying on the bed, staring at the stone ceiling, sat up and called, "Enter." The heavy wooden door opened just far enough for a small young woman to slip inside. "My Lady," the girl said it with a sort of breathless reverence that made Morgana's lips twist into a smirk. The maiden's curtsy was broad and sweeping, and her sweet golden head bowed to avoid her mistress' eye. Locks of curly blonde hair fell forward onto her darling chest, which was clad in customary dark grey linen. Morgana wanted to twist the soft hair around her fingers, or even give it a firm tug and watch the girl's mouth fall open in a gasp as her eyes watered in pain. "The blue dress," Morgana stated, and the maiden - Elside was her name - straightened up and walked across the chamber to fetch said dress. Like every garment Morgana owned, it was a beautiful creation. Rich fabric of the deepest navy blue composed the voluminous skirts and body. The hem was embroidered with silver thread in feminine, swirling floral patterns, and sturdier stitching across the front. It was well-structured and had a rather low-cut bust, toeing the line of modesty. The sheer, light blue sleeves would fall delicately on her slender arms and be secured by shiny silver cuffs (beautifully made in the shape of ravens) at the elbow to keep the fabric from billowing in the wind. Similarly, an ornate silver belt cinched the dress at the waist, ensuring that her comely body was shown off to its potential - Morgana had never been one for drab, loose-fitting garments of grey or white. No, her days at the convent were long over. Now she was very much a creature of luxury, and she lived in a sea of expensive lengths of dark purple, green, and blue - had enough precious jewelry to drown herself in - drank from only the finest gold goblets and off only the shiniest silver platters. A moment later, Elside was helping her queen into the dress. Her nimble fingers laced up the back tightly, and clasped the cuffs and belt on her arms and waist. She adjusted the hem so that it lay just so; brushed long dark hair and laid it in loose waves across Morgana's white shoulders; gently placed a circlet of silver on the top of Morgana's head and attached an opaque veil, that rested over her hair and ran to the middle of her back. The effect was just right. The darkness of the dress was appropriate to her grief, the hints of silver made it nearly ethereal, and the white veil was almost innocent and made it clear that her intentions were pure. "My Lady, you are a vision," Elside whispered in the same genuine awe she always did; the girl was so earnest it almost hurt. She did so adore Morgana - but then, everybody did. She couldn't wait to greet Arthur. Surely he would take one look at her and damn their relationship. It was difficult indeed to look upon the lady and not at least admire her physical beauty. She was stunning. Her skin was perfectly smooth and pale, and her black hair and expressive light green eyes gave her an air of alluring darkness, as did her often enigmatic and aloof demeanor. She was taller than most of her maidens by a few inches, though she had still remained a good head below the bulky, intimidating frame of her deceased husband. She had a lovely shape to her, accentuated well by her gowns. Icy and silent though she usually was in Rheged, Morgana had somehow managed to demand the respect and love of her constituents anyway. Though she'd never been quite as popular as the previous Queen, and she had not won the affection of Urien's children (she'd never desired that anyway), the people loved her. The royal procession finally arrived at Tintagel Castle mid-morning. The wind was howling, but it quickly reduced to a calm, pleasant breeze. However, the trees beyond continued to sway in the harsh gusts. It was curious, as if Tintagel had been placed inside some magical bubble, protecting it from the elements. She was helped off her handsome grey mare by a servant, and when her feet touched the ground she sighed. Lowering the hood of her heavy, dark green cloak, she looked around. Impressive. "I assume our message was received?" she inquired of the man. "Yes, My Lady." "And when will the King see us?" "Right away, My Lady. I will go announce your arrival myself." "Wonderful," Morgana said, smiling just a bit. Just a few minutes later, she was inside court and being introduced to her long-lost brother. Her smile, now, was quite sincere and she didn't bother to oppress it. She was bearing great news, after all. Even if her husband had just died, she was allowed to look a bit happy for that. "The Lady Morgana, Queen of Rheged." That was her cue. She curtsied deeply, but kept her eyes on his face. Oh, what a very handsome face it was... "Sire," she said slowly, almost as if she wanted to relish in the pleasant taste the word left in her mouth. She stood up again, and clasped her hands loosely in front of her. "I have come to pledge my kingdom's fealty. This was not King Urien's first intention, but as the decision was ultimately left to me, here I am. I - like Your Majesty, I'm sure - am not desirous of tension, conflict, or war." She paused, then, and frowned, her beautiful face suddenly full of sadness. "This way, perhaps, something good may come of my husband's death."</s>

"No," Ganondorf said with a twisted, snarling smirk, his face half furious and half tinged with amusement, "I don't want anything. Except power. Control. Rulership." His strong, large hand gripped tighter on the King of Hyrule's throat, holding the middle-aged man aloft in the throne room as the screams from adjacent hallways continued on. "You won't... you... y-y... get away..." he sputtered out with a great deal of effort, blood stinging and blinding the King's right eye shut, glaring at the Gerudo through his quivering left. "I already have." Crick. Fhoomph. And like that the King's neck was snapped, his body being released from Ganondorf's grip to fall warm, yet lifeless upon the red carpeted floor. It had happened so quickly, the seven foot warrior-mage of the Gerudo tribe summoning up skeletal warriors from the very ground outside the city, moblins riding upon armored boars coming in from a distance, waltzing through the open gates to attack in broad daylight. The fools hadn't seen a thing coming. The city had been surrounded in five minutes and sacked in ten. In under fifteen they'd breached the castle, and in twenty the throne room itself. Summoned demons roamed through the hallways now, slaying any remnants of the castle's forces who were foolish enough to reveal themselves. It was likely they thought themselves still capable of mounting a defense. Cute. It was equally likely that many still didn't know what was happening, it'd all been so fast. Upon bursting into the throne room, a dozen skeletal warriors in tow, eye sockets hollow and bones jittering together with every step, Ganondorf had seized the Queen and thrown her out a window in seconds. No questions had been asked. No demands had been made. The few guards in the throne room had quickly been surrounded and killed by the undead knights and the Queen was thrown several stories to her death, an example quick and heavy in cost. The King had been soon to follow, laying now lifeless at the dark, armored Lord's feet. Ganondorf looked down at the King, smiling, snickering, the light of a beautiful Spring afternoon shining through numerous windows, coupled with a calming, gentle breeze. It had been such a perfect day. Who would have expected this? "Find me Zelda," he called out to his servants, the hunched-over skeletons having stood there, awaiting command after slaying Hyrule's final line of defenders. Eight men lay about the throne room in intimidating piles of iron, yet disheartening puddles of crimson. "Find me the Princess. Alive. ...By any means."

It is said that my people are descendants of the gods; that our ears are delicate and long so that we may hear the softest whispers of the spirit world, and hear the pleas of nature. Our race is the most in tune with the world around us...Though at times, we forget this.. We are a peaceful people, and my family has strived to maintain peace for many generations. The Hylian Royal family contains the strongest bloodline of all of our people...Our sovereignty is ordained by our pure bloodline that is directly traced to the goddesses of the landBut no such divinity spared us the horrific events which devastated our land after the Hyrulean Civil War. My father believed our lands troubles to be over after my birth..That in the midst of such tragedy, I was a gift of reassurance from our ancestors, that Hyrule had not been forgotten As I sit, cowering inside the grand library behind the statue of a great warrior whose name I could never recall, imprisoned in my own Castle, staring out at the mockingly calm skyline as the sounds of screams and clashing weapons ring in my earsI realize, that I am a failure to my predecessors. I had seen this war comingMy fathers pride deafened him, and he would not head my warnings though it had been he himself who declared my gifts of foresight a blessing from Nayru I saw this war comingI knewI saw the shadows seep through the walls of the castle the moment he stepped through the gatesI saw the darkness retreat, almost bowing to himI knew his face the moment he arrived, and yet my tongue had swollen within my mouth, preventing an outburst that might have saved my mothermy fathermym Kingdom. Was I destined to fall then?..Is there truly such a thing, as destiny? The young fair Princess of Hyrule could feel her heart frantically beating beneath her modest breast. She had wedged herself behind one of the statues of a Hylian hero, whom stood before two conjoining bookshelves that had barely provided enough room for even the lean Zelda to slip behind and between. She crouched, trembling between the wooden shelves and the marble platform, her hands over her eyes as she prayedPrayed for someone, anyone to come and save her, while quietly cursing herself for being unable to defend herself.. Her magic was unstable...and her emotions were clearly clouding her judgment, but could one really blame her? Not ten minutes before, she had seen her mother's body whisk past the window she had been reading beside, crashing in a spray of blood in the gardens below. Zelda had screamed, dropping her book immediately and had almost run into the hall, when the sounds of creaking bones alerted her to the presence of the Dark Wizard's minions. Frantically, she had decided on a hiding place...and hoped she could come up with something before she was found. Six days after her sixteenth birthday...A beautiful spring day, forever tainted in Hyrule's history...A page that would be stained with blood and tears, should history even exist after this assault. The young princess held herself tightly, her white elbow-length gloves covering her mouth to still her frantic breathing. She wore an elegant white gown that day, with a deep pink bodice and golden embroideries of Hylian symbols to ornament the beautiful dress. Her soft blonde locks left free, cascading down her mid-back, with the exception of two strands that were braided with gold and jewels as was tradition for the women of the royal family. Such a tragic sight, such a beautiful noble choking back tears as her castle was seized by such a man as Ganondorf. Her right hand burned terribly, to the point where she gasped aloud. The door then opened, as if on command of her distress, and Zelda froze. She felt her ears twitching as she peeked out from between the statues legs. Her crystalline eyes widening as she saw monstrous creatures searching beneath chairs and behind shelves. As they advanced the room, Zelda spotted the door had been left open. She was no match for them physically...and perhaps not even magically, though their capabilities were unknown to her. Biting her lip slowly, Zelda picked up the skirts of her gown and slowly stood while the creatures backs were turned. Making her way lightly, softly...slowly across the carpeted floor and towards the open door. Backing into the hall, the princess suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as a hot breath poured down upon her. She felt her skin crawl, as what felt like a glob of saliva dripped upon her shoulders. The shadow of the Moblin was all she had seen as she turned. Without even time to scream, a sudden blow came to her head, and Zelda found her world suddenly fading into shadows.</s>

Jared hummed a bit along to the music in his car radio as he made his way over the little makeshift road that led to the desolate little patch of land that lay in the middle of the sea. It was a pretty calm song, and he wished the radio would play something with a bit more go in it - lord knew he was in a fantastic mood and wanted some music to emphasize it. What had happened was nothing short of amazing when it came down to it - and that he was getting a chance to investigate it first hand, that HE was picked over so many other volunteers was just mindblowing. He couldn't have been happier as he finally saw the land stretch a bit and stopped the car close to the little road - hardly more than a trodden path, really - and started to get out his bag from the trunk. What had him in such a joyous uproar? Why, simple - a meteorite had landed in this area. A hunk of rock from outer space, and he had been chosen to go retrieve a sample. He would be the first to see, touch and examine an outer space phenomenon. When you came from a town as small as his, any event was fantastic, but this, without a doubt, beat them all. Putting on his white cap, it arranged his dark purple hair neatly on each side of his head as it reached the middle of his neck. He was a tanned young man, and fit from usually working outside. He had dressed practically, but casually for this - nothing more than a loose t-shirt, a pair of walking boots and some sturdy pants were needed for this trip. The hard part would be to actually find the thing. He didn't have enough gas to just drive around and look, so he'd have to walk. Not that he minded. And thus, he walked along humming some melody that had gotten stuck in his head, without having even the faintest idea what exactly the rock from space had done to this place...

To be sure, no one could have possibly guessed what the space rock might have brought with it, or what effect it might have on the flora and fauna around it. Or, to be more precise, any of the creatures on the 'small' island, which had quite a good number of different Pokemon living upon it. Not too long after the meteor had crashed down near the center of the island did its 'radiation' start irradiating out around the small land mass, effecting every Pokemon it touched in some varying way, mutating them, changing them. To some degree in all of them, they became more human-like, more sentient, and in others still, had the odd effect of messing with their gender-barring chromosomes and anatomy. It didn't take many of them long to know something had changed, and that, for the most part, they were happy with it. Not to mention, different urges and feelings started to fill their minds, while still living how they did before the 'accident'. As Jared would be drawing further and further from his vehicle, he'd start to notice more and more the air grew heavy, almost foretelling of things to come. Another odd thing to note is it, despite entering into the area, the radiation was having no affect on the human's body, almost as if it was tuned to the very 'frequency' of a Pokemon's DNA. Further more, the closer he would be drawing to the area, the more he'd notice signs of life, and, quite possibly in the back of his mind, that he shouldn't have come alone. When the meteor would finally be within view, the male would notice a small lake, which, to anyone's knowledge, hadn't been there before, surrounding it, and by the looks, something was sitting in the water, back to his direction, relaxing, with a large amount of long, flowing white-silver hair, with two very long, pointed ears poking out the top of it.</s>

It was late in the day, late enough for the sun to hide behind the clouds on its descent to earth, late enough to dot France's sky with oranges and yellows, with hues the most gifted of painters dreamed of plucking from the air. It was becoming late, yet still early, early enough for Aramis to arrive home by nearly an hour's time. Supper would not yet be ready and he could not scold his daughter for that as she would not know, she would not expect him for a while still. And it was that surprise which he hoped for, for the light in the eyes of his lovely young fifteen-year-old to shine brilliantly at simply his sight. Such was an arrogant hope, perhaps, thoughts of a man conceited - or perhaps a man spoiled, spoiled by a doting girl who was often pleased by the simple things. Aramis' chestnut mare slowed to a trot as he rounded the final trees on that long dirt road that led to one shorter, only a minute away from the front steps of his secluded cottage in the countryside. He had lived in the city long ago in his youth and until he was a man of thirty, but there was only so much action a man could desire to see, only so much hustle. There was something to be said of a calm, peaceful life, a life of prayer and devotion. Perhaps this was where Porthos might chime in with words of his own, a disagreement, perhaps even some clever tavern limerick comparing the women of the city to those of the country. His friend could have them, have the lot, Porthos always one to see quantity before quality. And there was a secret that perhaps his friend spent too much of his time in Paris to ever find out - that though the ladies of the countryside did tend to be more innocent than their city counterparts, that did not mean they wished to stay that way. As his horse brought him closer, yards away now, Aramis dismounted with a small billow of dust as his boots hit the ground. He patted the mare in a silent thank you on her strong neck and took the reins, casting a quick glance to the house as he led her over to the barn. He wondered what Yvette usually did an hour before he would return home. Was she still tending to her chores in the stable? The barn perhaps? Maybe taking a walk in the field? It was a lovely afternoon, after all. Or would she already be bathed and changing into her ladylike makeup and clothes while supper simmered on the stove? He would find out soon enough, bearing a quiet smile as he led his horse into the barn. He took his time unsaddling the old girl, setting the blanket aside and filling a hearty helping inside her bag of oats. "I am home, my dear," he spoke out in a lofty tone, letting his voice carry when he stepped foot inside the large cottage to see that Yvette wasn't immediately in sight. Heavy leather boots made similarly weighted sounds against the wood floor as he took a few more steps inside, shrugging off the long brown leather coat he wore to and from work. Autumn now, the days able to turn chill without warning, and as such leaving without your coat even on warm days could easily bring regret later. "Yvette?" he called out again. "Where are you?" he questioned while setting his coat upon an oak stand just inside the door. Taking a moment to sniff the air, he noticed... nothing. Which meant supper wasn't started; his little girl was quite a fan of various spices, they usually filling the house when he arrived home. Still bathing then, likely, or dressing. "Yvette? Are you decent?" No response. Aramis took a few steps to the wide oaken staircase, one, two, stepping upon the third with a hand on the rail as he called again, "Yvette?" Nothing. Hm. He turned to head to the bathroom, taking a step back down the stairs, passing by the door and down the hallway- And then Aramis stopped. He paused midstep and leaned back, a knee still in the air, something catching his eye. He took a step back, then a second, coming to stand up straight. He looked to the door. More specifically, he looked to the coat rack, to where he'd placed his not a moment before. It was there. Yvette's, however, was not. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the rack and breathed, breathing in and out through his nose.

Though often young maidens claimed, while blushing and biting their lips ever so enticingly, that Spring was their favorite season, Yvette would claim most confidently that Autumn was her most cherished time of year. Chilly days encouraged evenings spent by the fireside, curled up in close proximity whilst reading or simply conversing. Autumn harvests were always quite bountiful, and produced an assortment of ingredients to further tantalize the taste buds during meals. And though the falling leaves presented yet another chore to tend to, their changes in hue to radiant golds and reds, were enough to remind Yvette of the presence of the King. Not of Louis, but of God. God, from whom all blessing flow. Whom she had been raised to give thanks to everyday of her life, for every morning sun and evening star, for every breath and for every kiss. Kisses, Yvette was especially fond of. Particularly, kisses from her Papa, as they had been given most frequently, and received most eagerly throughout a grand majority of her life. From a young age, she had been aware that the man she called Papa and the men she referred to as Uncles, were not truly related to her by blood. Through kindness and devotion, she had been taken in, and raised as the picturesque daughter of the former Musketeer, Aramis. A man whom she was insatiably attached too, so innocently besotted by; and though love had never known a bond such as the one formed between Yvette and her Papa, a daughter raised by a strict father will always find some way to rebel. The blossoming teen did not break rules often. Bending them, she would say, was a far more appropriate term. In fact, the desire to bring a smile to her Papas face often clouded out choices that would lead to more serious offenses...But occasionally, such as that particular afternoon, his rules simply did not work well with her plans. She had forgotten to check the spice rack before Mass, to see if she would need anything from the market while they were in town. After arriving home, she had changed from her formal dressings into a pair of Raouls old jodpurs, a white loose shirt and a pair of riding boots so she could more comfortably complete her chores around the house. By the time she returned to the kitchen to start preparing supper, it was an hour and one half before Papa would arrive home. Two hours before her Uncles and cousin would arrive. Far too late to find an escort into town to fetch spices. Papa never permitted her to go into town alone. There were far too many men of questionable intentions there. Men without a strong moral compass, men without God. Men who were not her Papa. Yet, she needed those spicesIt would take close to half hour on foot to walk to town. With haste, Yvette cleaned herself up, knowing better than to go into town dressed so poorly. She chose a gown of earthen greens, so that the dust from the roads would not show up too noticeably upon her skirts. The gown was fitted tightly around her lithe frame, her young breasts nearly spilling from the top line of the bodiceHer golden cross, a most cherished gift, lay just above the swell of her breasts, so that wandering eyes would know her purity before attempting to advance. With a black hair ribbon held between her teeth, her deep golden tresses pinned loosely up in curls as she quickly dashed down the stairs from her bedroom, Yvette snatched up the auburn cloak from the rack, slipping it loosely over her shoulders before rushing from the door and down the dirt road towards town.. Time was spent wisely, well, as wisely as expected for a young lady shopping in town. With the spices, she also purchased a harvest bouquet for the table centerpiece. An arrangement of orange mums, stalks of harvest wheat and lovely white lilies, that smelled of fresh country air and would certainly brighten up the dining room. As she walked home, she found herself humming and strolling, distracted by the beauty of the French countryside, when truly she should have been sprinting back to the cottage in order to beat her Papa home. So lofty was the mind of a young maiden at times, so easily pleased by such simple pleasures. As she approached the cottage, her humming had formed into singing in such a fair and whimsical tone that had earned her pet name of Little Robin at home, and sweet seraphim in the church choir, The falling leaves drift by my window The falling leaves of red and gold I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands I used to hold, Yvette entered the kitchen, having not passed the stable, she did not notice her Papa's mare comfortably resting in its stall, or she would have silenced her song as she laid out the spices upon the counter top. With the spices laid out, the potatoes and vegetables piled to clean, and the chicken now resting in a pot of water to moisten, Yvette took up her pretty bouquet and walked into the dining room. She laid out the crimson red table cloth, setting the arrangement in the center between two candelabras. The Sunday china she had already set atop of the wine cabinet near the window, the evening's wine set in a bucket of ice to chill. Passing through the kitchen once again, the lovely young girl began unlacing her cloak, walking to the main hall of the cottage, Since you went away the days grow long And soon I'll hear old winter's song But I miss you most of all, my darling When autumn leaves start to fall.. When autumn leaves start to--- Her eyes had been half closed as she continued her song, not truly paying mind to her surroundings as she could quite skillfully navigate her way around the cottage in the dark in order to fetch a cup of water in the middle of the night..But as she opened her eyes, in the midst of the final lyric of the song, her hand raised to hang her cloak upon its hookShe stopped, her pale petal lips agape, her hazel eyes wide as she stare at the leather coat that was not supposed to be there!</s>

The man always woke up late and got off to a late start everyday. He had turned his alarm off three different times before finally managing to get out of bed on the fourth try. His head was pounding and he soon realized that he shouldn't have had those few last shots. Wiping his eyes and putting some gel in his hair, he moved to put on his business suit. A phone call from Pepper, telling him everything was in order, and a nice breakfast of whiskey and eggs later, he was off. Moving quickly back upstairs, he took another look at himself in the mirror and smiled. "Damn, I look good." Looking at the clock, he saw that he was already late, though he ran the damn business, so he was allowed to be late. At least, that was his thoughts. Moving back to the girl in the bed, he kissed her on the cheek and sighed. "I gotta go babe." He said to the blonde, brushing her hair out of her face and planting another kiss on her lips. "I'll be back tonight." He said as he covered her back up and moved downstairs, getting into the limo, and going to Stark Industries for another day of work. It was another day of school for Peter Parker. He sighed as he sat in class and took notes for his test that next day. Of course, he thought about MJ, but he had other things to worry about that day. He made it pretty much through the day without anyone talking to him or touching him, and he moved toward the pay phone, sighing as he input his dollar and dialled MJ's number. After getting her message system, he let out a sigh. "Hey, MJ, it's Peter." He started, with a pause. He didn't know how to break it to her, so his voice was very shaky. "Look, I can't go to your show tonight." He said with another sigh. "I will still pick you up after, I just. . . I'm busy alright. Love you. Peter." He said finally as he hung up. With another sigh, he punched his locker. This relationship with Mary Jane was slipping through his fingers. He hated to do these things to her, but most of the time he had no choice. It wasn't as though he was cheating on her or doing anything along those lines, but he just didn't have the time. What between being Spiderman, studying, and hanging out with MJ, one of those things had to take the back seat.

The blonde's eyes opened to reveal a bright shade of green when she felt his lips against hers. He was late again, and sometimes she didn't understand the logic of setting an alarm clock if you weren't going to get up for it. As he left, she slowly sat up in the creamy sea of satin that was their love nest. Felicia had been dating Tony for three months now, probably her longest and most successful relationship with one of the most successful men in New York. Rolling out of bed, she headed to the shower to prepare for her day. That's when she realized she was naked. Just what exactly did we do last night? A soft smile graced her fine features as she tip-toed across the marble floor and turned on the shower. A thick spray of steam water would soon relax the muscles in her body. Sometimes she believed Tony's sheets were too soft. It had been like this for several weeks. She would come over and spend Friday nights with him, dining and drinking from the comfort of his home. Felicia believed Tony was an excessive drinker though he didn't think so. Maybe one day she could persuade him not to drink so much. Hoping into the shower, she washed all the impurities off her body and thought about today and last night. A blush crept onto her cheeks. Tony was quite a lover; hell, he had practice in it, and so did she. Honestly, she didn't think he and her would have lasted this long, but there was something about him besides the obvious that held her to him. Probably the same thing that made her mother detests him. She wasn't sure it was love, but it was definitely a strong attraction. Soon afterward, she hopped out of the shower and got dressed. A black blouse, white skirt, and red heels grabbing her purse, she was off. Tony wasn't the only one who would be making headlines today. Mj was at the local theater rehearsing for tonight's show. All sorts of emotions had been eating at her all day. Her thoughts jumped from one thing to another. First Peter, then the show, back to the night when Spiderman had saved her life for like the fifth time in the past two months, back to Peter, and so on. "Mj," someone yelled. She didn't know what was going on with Peter lately. Well not just lately - he seemed so out of it. Whenever she tried to tell him something, his head would be up in the clouds. Whenever she tried to surprise him, he would smile, but his smile seemed sad. She didn't even know it was possible to smile sadly. Ever since Uncle Ben died, she figured a piece of Peter had gone with him, and who could blame him? They were so close, yet they seemed to be growing further apart. "Mj!" her partner yelled again. The redhead snapped back into reality. "Sorry!" she said, continuing to rehearse. Wondering if he had called her name.</s>

Turning eighteen had sucked. It was supposed to be a big deal, now she'd be old enough to go out and party with her friends, to vote, to be an "adult." Instead, she'd just hit the age and found out she was some kind of "potential." Next thing Tanya knew, she was being attacked regularly by these creepy crawlies, and was on her merry way to some dump called Sunnydale. The teenager sighed as she stepped off the bus, her eyes surveying the area. She was pretty sure that no one had told anyone here that she'd become, go figure, so she wasn't quite sure what she was looking for. The girl sighed again, adjusting the ear buds that blared music. Shouldering her bag, Tanya strolled off the bus stop, heading through the empty streets toward the more populated sections of town. Her battered sneakers beat a steady rhythm against the pavement. Combined with tattered, skin-tight jeans and a t-shirt tight enough to display an impressive bust, Tanya looked every inch the rowdy girl she was. "And I'm stuck in this shithole," she muttered kicking a can and following its path with her eyes.

After the sealing of the Hellmouth, most mystical energy was sealed off and the denizens scattered to the four corners of the earth. Well...for some, the four corners was actually Cleveland. The folk of Sunnydale had moved back after each 'catastrophe' and the destruction of the city was no different. Most people were surprised to see that the unexplained mysterious deaths had stopped, mostly. Though things had turned darker again, requiring more Slayer intervention. However, that's just what it needed. It being Apollyon. The magic tricks of a Slayer, an evil law firm, and a whipped vampire had closed the hellmouth and he wanted it opened again, and there was a way to do it though it required having a slayer in its thrall. Apollyon's talents would let it take a young weak slayer and yoke her to it, using her as tool. Apollyon had spent centuries here, spreading lust and carnality in its path. The demon stood an imposing 8 feet tall, its shoulders were massive but dwarfed by its wing span. Its massive arms ended in clawed fists, its strong legs supported by clawed feet, almost like talons. Like a chameleon it could change its body color for camouflage. It could sense Tanya was being sent to Sunnydale, and it would have her. First a test, it sent three smaller demons after her imps almost while it went jet black and watched them track her through the bus depot.</s>

It was time for the operation to begin. For weeks, Bai Lan had been tracking a man they suspected of having information on RAPT that could prove useful in the near future. Sei was tasked with getting that information, and if at all possible, capturing the man. It was quite possible that he had even more information that he could give up after some... thorough persuasion. Their task was quite simple - the man had been tracked to a bar near the riverfront. Meg would be used as a decoy, to seduce and ultimately disable the man quietly. Jo was on standby, and would be awaiting the go-ahead to spring into action and create a disturbance so that the man could be extracted and they could leave. She sat with Amy in the red sports car she used to move around when she did not want to be noticed, as a giant blue trailer would have been a dead giveaway that something was up. Meg was getting into place now, while Jo was lingering around outside of the bar, ready to cause mayhem at the drop of a pin. There was one thing that Sei was worried about though, and that was Meg's annoying knack of getting into trouble in situations like this one. If that happened, there were several contingency plans in place. This was an operation that had to succeed, no matter what happened. Hopefully, things wouldn't reach that point. Conditions here seemed favorable enough. Outside of the usual suspicious characters hanging around, there weren't that many people around. It was usually quiet during this time of night, before people got drunk and decided to start blasting whatever they thought would look better with a few bullets holes and hot lead inside of it. She wasn't all that worried about herself or Amy in this situation, as the windows of the car were bullet proof and the vehicle had a very sturdy build. They would be fine, unless of course, a Cybot decided to use the car as a landing strip or for target practice. Call her conceited, but Sei was more than confident in her driving skills. "We're ready whenever you are Meg," she said into the communication device prepared by Amy. Inside of the bar was a very different story. There were people everywhere, smoking, drinking, laughing, having as good of a time as they possibly could. People all over the places were playing drinking games, some seemed to be enjoying a game of Russian Roulette. People who didn't value their lives or the lives of others. This was one of the most dangerous places in Tokyo, not that Tokyo wasn't a dangerous place in and of itself. Of course, they were all armed to the teeth and none of them would hesitate to pull a gun on anyone here. The target was a man they knew only by the name of Tanaka. He was a heavy set man with messy hair that looked to be a bit. . .greasy. It was not at all attractive looking, which would only make it harder for Meg to hit on him than it already would be. A job was a job though. The sooner it was done, the sooner they could get on to doing whatever else Bai Lan needed them to do.

Meg: The bar, 'Rapture': Inside, the place was lit by glow-globes and hanging lanterns, each private booth and dining table surrounded by fluttering drapes of white silk, magnifying the lamplight, creating a creamy, flowing texture like vellum. The twitching brazier light cast a crimson, almost hellish illumination of the pitch-black floor below, creating the eerie sensation of falling through space... At a corner table, a pale, long-fingered hand curled around the stem of a wineglass, bringing it up to ruby-red lips~ As she set it back on the glossy black table, Meg *stretched* languorously, displaying the curvaceous tightness of her silky crimson cheongsam; Beneath the long, trailing hem, her coltish legs whispered as the lovely redhead crossed them, enticing flashes of creamy thigh flickering through teasing gaps~! There was a gentle scrape of fabric, inaudible as Meg leaned back in her chair with a sigh, the charms that lined her bound hair clinking against her hairpins, in a gentle susurrus; Appearing, all the world, to be thoroughly bored~ Idly, her fingers drummed a gentle tattoo on the obsidian surface of the table; A distinctive code that meant 'Target in sight.' Now, seduction's a complex thing- Too little, and the target doesn't even know he's being, well, targeted- Too much, too soon, and it's all-too-clear that something is wrong...It takes an exquisite balance between subterfuge and interest, the gentle pressure of one's attention to oh-so-carefully draw the eye...Meg, however, was incredibly good at it. Right now, though, the lovely redhead's nostrils wrinkled, just a little, as she considered the greasy-looking man she was supposed to be putting the moves on; A burly middle-ager, slowly letting himself go- Not her type.Notatall~ Why aren't there any handsome targets?she pondered, glancing briefly skyward as she slid her chair back- Steeling herself for what came next! It was simple enough- Just get the absolutely grotesque guy away from his buddies...And Jo would take care of the rest, the way she always did! "We're ready whenever you are, Meg," Sei's voice crackled, as if the woman herself was whispering in Meg's ears- Indeed, the complex charms strung in her ponytail concealed a fairly sophisticated audio suite, keyed to both transmit and receive...The wonders of miniaturization! "Copy that," Meg murmured, her voice low, lilting...The legs of her chair scraping against the tiles as she stood. A girl alone in this bar, the favorite watering hole of the criminal underworld, was rare enough- An absolutely lovely one even more so! It wasn't a surprise that Tanaka's head turned as she drifted past- She could feel his gaze lingering on her, then her back, as she took a slow, indirect route to the bar. Taking care to brush one silky hip against him as she moved past! A quick, heartfelt, if a trifle slurred, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" parting her full lips, clearly the worse for drink, with the delicate, mincing grace of a woman who wasn't quite drunk enough yet, Meg crossed to the dance floor; She'd had his attention, after all, his eyes roving over her lissome form as she swayed in time to the music, seemingly entirely entranced by the barely-legal beauty before him.</s>

The forest spoke. The rustling leaves whispered secrets, the breeze carried unheard whispers in an ancient language long forgotten. The shadows stirred awake, the wild beasts stalked their prey, stealthily, calmly yet ravenously. The Queen's Blade tournament was over. The time for grand battles, gossiping in taverns and town squares had passed. Only a few still mentioned it. The world was returning to normal... especially in this old forgotten forest. The forest where the lady, clad in white and red ceremonial garb, walked through.

The tranquil forest was silent, the ripple of birdsong echoing in the peace of the glade. A perfect, natural clearing, amid the swaying bamboo of the grove. Eyes the color of sapphires opened, ever-so-slowly, hazed in focus; Seated demurely at the very centre, her hands folded on her lap, Tomoe waited without impatience, the long-handled katana resting at her side, within easy reach. The miko's simple white hakama - trimmed in bright crimson, the pleated hem of her long gown a splash of color on the grass - rustled softly, in time to the slow in-out of her breath... The lovely miko certainly didn't look like a swordswoman or one of the recent competitors for the throne of the queen. Her skin was pale and unmarked, her lissome form molding sweetly to the pure, creamy fabric of her miko-fuku, the tails of her crimson headband fluttering in the gentle breeze. Midnight-black bangs caressed her cheeks, as Tomoe shifted, subtly, the white sash of her obi cinched tight about her slim waist, accentuating the full swell of her proud bust. Home. The shrine she'd guarded, for all of her young life, lay far away through the forest. The long, long journey awaited her, though she showed no sign of stirring. These moments of tranquility were few and far between, after all... And it would do her good to cleanse her mind, to contemplate all she'd seen and done in the Queen's Blade, so recently ended. There was a low rasp of fabric, as her sleek thighs ground lightly together, her eyes squeezing shut again. Sinking more deeply into her meditation, now, her curvy form unclenching as the stress, the tension of the last few days streamed away from her, like muck from a glistening jewel... Heedless of movement in the woods around her...</s>

This was the absolute last time that Charlone was going to take on a mission of her own, regardless of who asked her or what the perks were. Simply because the commander of the Unicorn Knights had casually mentioned that a set of ruins should be explored, and that Wein and Hans were heading that way, did not mean that Charlone should follow. Now she found herself lost, alone, tired, and slightly wounded in the middle of what looked to be a labyrinth. An arrow was knocked on her bow, and she held the string loosely, eyes casting about for any signs of movement. She could tell that most of her magic, her strongest suit, had already been drained. She'd have to rely on her slow, long-distance attacks to manage it. "This is the last time I agree to split up," she muttered. If she'd gone with Hans, as the latter had suggested, then maybe she'd be alright. But instead she'd insisted that she could go alone, just like Wein did. Sometimes, her pride got the better of her. She sighed, moving one hand from the string of her bow to rub at the bridge of her nose. You'd think that after all this time Hans wouldn't get to her. "At least nothing's showed up recently," she admitted. She relaxed slightly, though her eyes continued to dart about. "I'd hate to encounter something now. I'd probably have to run from it." Which would be embarrassing to have to admit. Hans wouldn't let her live it down for weeks...

In the deep, dark ruins, something...lurked. Well, perhaps 'cowered' would have been a better word- Because, though eyes like wedges of overripe lemon watched from the safety of the treeline, they weren't the sharp slits of a prowling predator or even an orc's malicious gaze... No, it was the cringing, decidedly unnerved gaze of a goblin. Pressed flat on his scrawny chest, Nbox Muckshade sighed- very, very shallowly- absently scratching beneath his grubby, stained loincloth; His yellowed teeth chewed on his lip reflectively as the runty creature crouched amidst the fallen statuary, wondering exactly what he'd seen... He hadn't *wanted* to go hunting, this watch. But the Boss had said "GO!" to ol' Grimgaw Giantdread, and Grimgaw had said "GO!" to him- The smallest goblin in the group. "Nbox allaways get da lousy job," he'd grunted, wrinkling his ugly little face...But there'd been no help for it, and off he'd gone. Nbox'd hoped to blowpipe some woodgrouse, maybe dig up some roots and tubers...Of course, he hadn't expected *this!* The goblin had heard the footsteps, and wisely, Nbox had *hid*...Giving him a chance to get a good, long look at the 'oomie... And, by Mork, what a 'oomie she was. The little goblin's eyes had gone wide as saucers, his greedy gaze feasting on her curvy form- He'd immediately noticed how different she looked compared to the other humans who usually passed through here...Nasty, loud people they were, always armed with big, hurty swords and shiny magics. In fact...This was one of the first times he'd seen a human without those shiny steel clothes! So far, the humie- Funny teeth, she had- had wandered around a bit, rubbing at her nicely rounded behind (gulp). She didn't look happy...But since when were 'oomies ever happy? Nbox knew he should head back to tell the Boss about it- Still, the 'oomie looked mighty tempting, and he'd carried a full bandolier of darts today... Carefully, the goblin unslung his blowpipe, placing it to his lips, the fine dart- Tipped with a slow-acting paralysis poison - already nestled within. He'd sting the 'oomie first, then step out to see what she wanted...</s>

A small, hooded figure walked through the sand slowly, methodically, heading straight towards Mos Eisley. A sandstorm was brewing, the wind whipping this way and that as the young girl made her way to the space port. Lara was a beautiful girl, and that was clear once she got into Eisely. The robe dropped off of her, revealing a tight robe that clung to her frame. She wasn't wearing bottoms, but luckily, the robe acted more like a dress than anything. She had black curly hair that brushed against her shoulders, pale green eyes, pale skin, and a smile that could make even Emperor Palpatine smile for at least a few minutes. A few of the alien creatures turned to look at the girl, but she paid no mind, only headed to the bar before speaking quietly to the bartender. "I need a smuggler. One who won't ask questions." He pointed off towards a corner of the bar, the girl nodding and walking over before dropping a bag of credits on the man's table. "I need you to take me somewhere. I'll pay 25,000 now, and another ten when we make it. If you accept, you'll know the location once we get to the ship. It's far too crowded in here to risk saying anything. What do you say, can you do this for me?"

Arden looked up from his drink as he saw a bag drop onto his table. From the sound of it, it contained money. That was good. He liked money. He looked up at the person who had dropped it. It was an attractive young girl. This was getting even better. Now he just needed her to take off her clothes and his day would be perfect. Of course, he knew he would be dreaming since things like that never happened to him. She did want to hire him though. All he had to do was take her somewhere. That seemed easy, but maybe a little too easy. He looked at her carefully. She didn't seem to be a fugitive. He could be wrong, but he didn't want any Empire ships stopping him and searching his ship. He leaned back and thought about it for a few moments. He took a sip of his drink before looking up at her again. He then looked down at the money and back up at her. He smiled. "Follow me." was all he said. He got up from the table and placed a few coins down to pay for his drink. He left the tavern without even looking back to see if the girl was following. He stepped out onto the streets and turned toward the nearest space port. He walked along at his own pace, never looking back to check on the girl. He had to make it look as if he didn't even know she was there. He didn't know who she was or why she needed him, but she might have people following her. He had to be careful. As he walked, he ran a hand through his black hair. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes as he winked at a pretty girl he passed. He was 6'2" with a broad frame. He was strong, but not overly muscular. His skin was lightly tanned. He wore dark brown pants and a black vest. The vest just covered his chest and stomach, having no sleeves. He arrived at the space port and entered the hangar where his ship was located. He loved that ship, the Phoenix Flame. It was a custom-designed smuggling ship. It had one main area in the center that contained a small galley, a sitting room, a bedroom with a small bed, two gun emplacements on the front on the left and right with a very wide range of motion, as well as one at the back. The bridge was simple with just two seats at the very front of the ship. On either side it branched out slightly and led to a pair of large engines. They only appeared large though. The main thing about it was that the engines were only about a third the size that they appeared from the outside. Yet they could power the ship to speeds that normal engines that size could. The rest of the space inside the engine housing was perfect for hiding things. No one ever searches inside engines. Other hiding places included a very well sealed compartment beneath the bed, open spaces above cockpit control panels, and some compartments on the outside of the ship, only accessible from outside. The ship was designed for speed in both space and planetary atmospheres. He turned around to see if the girl had followed him the entire way. He had no doubts that she had. It was not likely for someone to not follow a person they hired to take them somewhere. The only problem was if she had lost him in the crowd.</s>

Oh, Roxas could kill that motherfucker. How could that fucking redhead cheat on him with that slutty cheerleader? More importantly, how could everyone in the school but Roxas know about it? Oh, how it made his blood boil with all the rage and anger he felt at the moment. He wanted to take a knife and carve into Axel's ass like a turkey on Thanksgiving, but sadly that was illegal. The boy stomped through the hallway to his next class, having just left lunch where he punched Axel in the face after hearing the news of him sleeping with the slutty cheerleader, the one who probably had urinary tract infection, or at least the blonde had hoped so. He wanted Axel to feel massive amounts of pain for what he had done, the black eye he had given him being not enough. The small blonde noticed his fist was still clenched from when he had done the glorious deed of punching the cheating bastard in the face earlier only after he shoved a freshman out of the way and into the locker, producing a small dent from where his face landed. Hey, it was his fault, the boy shouted for everyone to "fucking move" when he exited the lunchroom, the glass on the door cracking a bit as he did so. Suddenly, Roxas heard a fit of giggles from a trio of girls down the hallway and stalked over to them, glaring at them. "So, you think it's fucking funny, do you?!" He shouted at them. "You think it's funny that EVERYONE but little old me knew about Axel fucking the whore? Well, fuck you, you stupid cunts!" Obviously, the boy was a bit...um, what's the word? Angry. He had every right to be, of course, Axel had slept with another person, a woman, no less. Roxas stalked off into his last period class, his teacher looking at him as he entered. "Roxas, you look a bit angry, what happened?" The blond only glared at his teacher as he took his seat. "Oh, did you finally find out about Axel?" He questioned, shuffling some papers in his hands. The blond's mouth dropped a bit, even his teacher knew Axel was cheating on him? No fucking way, this was ridiculous. He was truly the only one in the entire school to not know his boyfriend was sleeping with the cheerleader. Oh, this was the most embarrassing day of his life. Sadly, it was about to get worse, seeing as he shared his final period with Axel, who's seat was right next to his. Fucking great.

Hell, he never knew Roxas could punch so hard. When the squirt literally knocked him off of his feet, he felt as though temporarily lost his ability to see out of his left eye. He expected a weak shove, slap to the face, a kick to the shin, or all of the above, but he definitely didn't expect for the tiny blond to land such a skilled swing into his oh-so-handsome face! He didn't know his punishments would come around so cruelly, but when they did, he felt an incredible wave of guilt completely wash out his insides. His boyfriend of nearly two years, Roxas, actually dumped him because he so happened to have gotten a bit tipsy one night with a cheerleader. It wasn't his fault that he was almost knocked unconscious by the drink she offered! Hell, he was a boy, too! If his hormones were on a roll, there was no stopping him when there was a good fuck waiting for him in bed. But Roxas wasn't so merciful, even when he tried to reason that it wasn't his choice to have knocked her up. Nothing got through that pissy kid. And sometimes, he wondered if he had been dating a girl all along. But then again, a girl couldn't have punched this forcefully. Covering his bruised eye, he scurried into the nearest restroom to treat his wound, hidden from any prying hyenas who wanted a chance to see his demise in person. The black eye wasn't too serious, but it did leave a nasty purple spot under his tear ledges. Axel nearly shattered the restroom mirror into pieces. Then, as he clumbered out of the public bathroom with a wet paper towel clutched to the side of his face, he was faced with Lenina, the cheerleader whom was responsible for this whole rendezvous. Then, as if this whole incident were his fault, the girl shot her knee up his crotch, sending him into a second hell that refused to leave him, even as he fell to the ground in complete agony. He limped to the nurse's office, where he received a full lecture about faithfulness from the assistant there who treated the purplish ring around his eye. Then, he sulked into class. He was just about as pissed off about everything as Roxas was. So as soon as he entered class, he threw his backpack on the ground and plopped into his seat, lazily sprawling his limbs out. He slumped his posture and threw his head back, muttering incoherent swear words under his breath. Fucking Roxas. Fucking cheerleader. He didn't need them all. Well, maybe he didn't need Lenina, but ... Roxas ? Hnnn. It was totally awkward to sit right next to his ex-boyfriend, really. He was just about to request a seating change, but he decided to ignore him instead. Axel wanted to speak to him, but why risk getting another black eye? Things would change dramatically from now on. They wouldn't be able to kiss each other across the seat... pass notes during lectures... fool off together during lab assignments... and Axel would have to find another kid to cheat off of. Axel messed up the cinnamon red hair on the back of his head, grunting in frustration. And with an inward sigh, he turned to face his ex-lover, leaning in ever so slightly as if a bit frightened that Roxas would lash at him again, "Now, come on, Roxas baby! This was all a mistake! A big misunderstanding! I was drunk! You of all people should understand me!"</s>

Karin Kurosaki sighed as she stopped at the entrance to the park, grumbling as she looked in. As usual, the lights along the path were out, leaving the park in near total darkness. Still, it would cut a good 20 minutes off her walk home. "Geez....why'd I have to stay and practice soccer for so long...?" The girl folded her arms, glanced around, and shrugged her shoulders before setting off through the park. "Screw it, I wanna get home, and it's not like anything is gonna happen," she thought. "I can take care of myself." The girl ran a hand through her black hair, adjusted her bag on her shoulders, and continued on her way. Things in town had settled down in the past few years, and Karin was now 13 years old, nearly 14, and life was finally back to normal. No weird Hollows running all over the place or Shinigami dashing around. Finally, this was a normal town and Karin was living a normal life.... well, as normal as she could get with her father anyway. So deep in thought was she that she was paying little, if any, attention to her surroundings, just following the dark path through the park.

It wasn't like everything was back to normal. At least, nothing was coming from the other side for now. He was a wolf spirit that had taken a human's body and melded it to his own purposes. Of course, in the process of doing so, he'd killed the human and consumed his spirit. Not that he much cared about some petty human and no one missed him. So, even though he walked like a human, talked like a human, had arms and legs and fingers, he also had padded paws and claws on his hands and feet, fur covering his body and the muzzle of a wolf. People always thought that humans became wolves at the sight of full moons, but it was really spirits that came out, taking the human's body and soul. This girl wasn't exactly hard to find. She'd wandered into his forest and gave off a rather unique spiritual pressure. Stalking after her, his tail swayed behind him. Sneaking after her, he'd found a young girl. She was rather cute for a human. Maybe he'd keep this one as a toy instead of flat out eating her. Sneaking up behind her, the last thing she'd remember is a hard thunk on the head before waking up on a rather lavish bed in a dimly lit, but broad and spacious cave.</s>

Lulu waited patiently, Magic Cactuar held loosely in her arms as she waited for the group to return. Lacking the money for an inn, they'd decided to camp out; several had been sent out hunting, while the others had gone on to stock up on supplies such as Phoenix Downs and the like. Only Rikku and Yuna had stayed behind while the others went off to their respective tasks, and after pitching the tent, they'd gone to bed. Lulu, meanwhile, had the esteemed task of watching their things, assured of the fact that she, as well as Rikku and Yuna, could take out any regular monster that might happen upon their little camp. Slender, pale hands smoothed silky black hair away from her face, darkly colored lips parted in a sigh. She was incredibly, woefully bored.

From just inside the forest that surrounded, a gelatinous shape peered out at the busty goddess. While just a monster, its instinctual arousal was clear, and it was indeed attracted by her... gifts. Sliding without a sound, it began to slowly make its way closer and closer to the lone woman who loomed over it. The monster didn't appear very big at all; in fact, it looked like it was just a baby Flan. But this was actually a bit of a defense maneuver - it did this to lull its prey into a false sense of security, which it would then transform itself to normal size and easily devour anything that challenged. Its full size was actually almost as tall as a human. And in fact, it could also change itself into a somewhat human-looking form. It used that when it got a taste for human women, this not being the first time it had set its sights on a sexy human female. As it got within a few feet of her, it stopped, its shape growing and expanding, taking on its humanoid shape before moving yet closer to the unexpected woman, its "hands" reaching out as it got just within reach of her.</s>

It was a dark world, these days. It seemed to rain more. Luxuries were more expensive, crime more common, the streets dirtier, the deaths more unpleasant, life harder and meaner and more violent. This room seemed to be a strong example of the new world. Peeling wallpaper, grime and a bare mattress, tattered condom wrappers and suspicious stains on the sheets. It's a hard place to wake up, especially when memories of how one got there are vague. A memory of a bite on the neck, sore for a second, and then blissful. Memories of sweaty, smooth bodies... or was that from before? A fever, like a fire inside, and strange voices. A door crashing open, the grunts and thuds of a struggle, and then a scream and the hiss of a sudden, furious fire. And now... an awakening into darkness, the room dim but still somehow bright, and the distant scream and clatter of a train thundering past.

Cici rubbed her head, moaning lightly at the headache. Okay. Think. Cute girl, kinda pale. Wanted to get it on. She wasn't waking up in a tub full of ice, that was good. No new scars that she could find. Wallet still there, backpack still there with her paint and markers, her gun still on the bedside table. First clothes, then delicious coffee to make this splitting, head-pounding pain go away, then finding out what the hell's going on. Standing up, she was still a bit wobbly, but steady enough to dress herself. She'd decided to forgo any undergarments tonight, instead going with a pair of tight jeans, a plain t-shirt, her boots, and her hoodie. She wasn't even going to ask why the hell there was a pile of ash on the bed. Usually better not to ask those sorts of questions. "Suddenly casual sex doesn't seem like a good idea," she said aloud to herself, finishing getting dressed by putting on her holster.</s>

"Good game," young, very skilled duelist Alexis Rhodes said to her opponent as her latest duel came to an end, cheers erupting among the crowd of fellow Academy students who were in the stands watching the duel. Her duels were always packed like this. It wasn't surprising, considering how popular and beautiful she was. Who wouldn't love a sexy female duelist with massive melons and a great pair of legs ending at an amazing ass? She was liked by both students and teachers alike... especially the males. She was the object of lust for many a male in the academy. Many had tried to... well, you know what they say about the best laid plans. She was more into dueling than dating. Still, it didn't stop the many suitors she had from trying to get into those much-desired panties. As she headed down the ramp, leading from the arena floor, most of the male student body had their eyes either locked on her ass or her breasts.

Watching a good duel was always fun, especially to a new student at the Academy. Ritoru just arrived at the duel school just a few weeks ago, and he already loved it more than regular boring school. Ritoru was a bit... different from other people in his class, for he was a dwarf that stood exactly four feet tall. But that didn't stop him from dueling, which he was pretty good at. He nailed the practical part of his entrance exam, but he got a zero on the written test. Which made him wind up in the red dorms. He didn't mind; he was enjoying this school way too much. Ritoru moved his black hair out of the way, as he watched a duel finish up. Even though he had only attended school for a short period, he knew who that girl was - Alexis, quite possibly the hottest girl in the world. His eyes never left her perfect breasts. He wanted her to be his, but he knew he would have some competition. The dwarf decided that he might as well talk to her, if he didn't then he'd never get the chance to be with her. Ritoru rushed over to where Alexis was walking and stopped beside her. "Hey, good duel there. You really kicked butt." He didn't know what else to say, talking to hot girls wasn't his strong suit.</s>

Shannon walked briskly along South Street, on her way home after finishing the late shift at the grocery store in Lakewood, Los Angeles. It was a rotten job; she was underpaid, had gone through three hold-ups in six months, and her boss, Mr. Ingles, could never ever be trusted to keep his goddamned paws to himself. On top of it all, she thought she was coming down with a cold. Not that she would get any time off to recuperate. How could sunny California be so cold and damp as soon as the sun set, anyway? She skipped a step when she heard a gunshot go off before falling back into pace. She wasn't far from Compton, either. And it came again and again, close enough. She noticed others on the street stop and turn their heads to a smaller street running perpendicular to South Street. She stopped and looked as lights flashed in the windows of a less cared-for house in time with the shots before all suddenly went silent. She snapped out of her surprise and went for her cell phone. Marco couldn't believe how wrong this night had gone so suddenly and without warning. He crawled along the floor, breath coming fast and shallow, with one hand pressed over the parallel gashes in his chest. Oh shit, that hurt! One minute he and the crew had been getting prepared for tonight's raid; loading up their guns with bullets and their veins with speed, and all of a sudden the weird-looking type had just been there, stepping out of the shadows. Marco could see the front door a few yards off, just beyond Pel's rent corpse. Right then, the Cainitevitaewas all that kept him going. He'd have to beg his owner for a fix as soon as he got home. Where the hell was that freak anyway? Marco's question was almost immediately answered as a figure stepped out into the hallway, blood dripping off the half-foot long claws that had sprouted before their eyes a mere minute ago. The claws that had put an end to the party. The figure seemed to be in his late twenties, dusky skinned and clad in cheap, inconspicuous clothing: jeans, a tank top and a red ochre jacket. It was the folded bandana that kept his shoulder-length black hair back and the round-lensed shades that set him apart. Who wears sunglasses in the middle of the night? Marco wasn't happy about this, however, and with a pained gasp tried to crawl back the way he'd come, horrifically aware that it was of no use. "Leave me alone, man!" he cried out as the man approached slowly, calmly. The claws slowly slipped back into the tips of his fingers, excess blood falling down to the floor. Heedless of Marco's words, he took hold of the wounded man's jacket with his reddened hands and hauled him up with surprising strength, pressing him up against the wall. Marco groaned in agony, his breathing taking on a wet, gurgling quality. "Where were you headed, Ghoul?" The low but insistent words came from a face bereft of any sympathy for his victim's plight. "Who is your domitor?" Marco could feel the eyes of stranger, concealed as they were, bore into his, but the Bond was a powerful thing and the devotion he felt for his owner prevented him from revealing anything; and how he wanted to squeal right then! It was getting so hard to breathe. The man's brow furrowed and with one heave he threw Marco against the opposite wall. In the distance, the blaring of sirens could be heard. Crouching down by the prone form, the man turned Marco's head up with a hand, only to witness his last, gurgling attempts to breathe before he stilled and slowly went glaze-eyed. A slight curse escaped the man's lips as he let go and stood up, the red and blue light of the police car's flooding in through the house's windows in flashes. The man turned and walked unhurriedly towards the window he'd entered through. Walking along the street, the shadows seemingly rearranging themselves to keep him covered, Julio was given to thinking as he put the flashing lights and the crowd behind him. He couldn't say he was satisfied with tonight's undertaking. The only survivor had expired from his wounds before he could talk. He'd gotten rash in the initial attack. Sloppy. Stopping by a van, he turned and looked back at the scene, resigning himself to wait. He would have to wait and see what investigators, if any, showed up to have a look at the place. With any luck, they might be used to find the associates of the men he had just dispatched. A little patience could carry you a long way.

Sometimes it was the simple things in life that kept one sane; taking a quiet stroll through a park and not having to worry about gunshots or being mugged. Perhaps going to a restaurant and not having to fear that the next bite of food you take won't land you in the hospital stricken with some food-borne illness. And other times it was the comfort of your own home where you were protected from the harsh realities of the day-to-day, the ambiance of classical music carrying away the tension of the job and hot water tainted with bubble bath and lavender oil could ease sore muscles and make you forget your worries and troubles for at least five minutes. Then again, life also never ceased its flow for anyone, not even those who made it a point to work nonstop to solve all the mysteries and crimes this city produced on a daily basis. Some which seemed stranger than fiction as of late though she wasn't going to allow herself to dwell on them as she lowered herself into the hot sudsy water and sighed with relief. The only thing that could make this moment better would be a chilled glass of champagne and maybe the fact that this wasn't her apartment but rather some five-star resort located in some exotic location. And maybe a nice cabana boy ready to massage her back and shoulders bearing a pina colada or something after her luxurious soak. Yep, that would definitely make this moment a lot better. And a secretary to answer her phone. Answer...her...phone.... "Shit." She swore as she opened her coppery-brown eyes and sat up while her cell phone buzzed and rang angrily as if to let her know it didn't appreciate playing second fiddle to her daydreams and fantasies as she lunged out of the tub and snatched it off the counter. "Hello?"She asked, instantly regretting that she'd even answered the damn thing in the first place. She was supposed to be off for the next couple of nights after working eighteen straight days in a row but now it looked as if she was in for another long haul as she listened to the strained and tired tone on the phone. "Okay, where are you guys?"She inquired while wrapping a towel around her lithe form and absentmindedly rubbing her left foot against her right calf to banish some of the suds from her interrupted bath. "Gimme a bit, I was in the bath. I know..it's not your fault. Uh huh...bye."As she snapped the cellphone shut and glanced at her reflection. "Ain't this about a bitch?" She asked herself, rolling her eyes and exiting the bathroom and padding into her bedroom to find something comfortable and clean amidst the piles of neglected laundry. "Just one night... it's all I ask," she muttered before glancing at a picture of a man and a woman posing together in their wedding outfits. Her father had been a police officer and her mother a school teacher, much to her mother's dismay, she'd opted to follow a similar path after her father instead. She liked the thrill of danger, putting together the pieces to bring suspects to justice. Her way of tipping the scale in the good guy's favor when more often than not, it seemed the bad guy got away. And sometimes the bad guy employed desperate people like herself, squatting beside the body of someone familiar to her, gloved fingers gently and carefully turning the head of the victim before reverently laying it back on the floor. It was always hard when you knew that the corpse's name and its family. Much less when that family was hers as she turned her eyes up at her partner and took a moment to find her voice which seemed oddly misplaced in the confines of tight and dry muscles. As much as she wanted to cry, she couldn't do that right now. Time to be a tough girl and get through this. "Victoria, you know him don't you?" Justice asked as she nodded her dark head and sighed heavily, glancing back at the victim who stared back with lifeless eyes. What an utter waste! Marco was in his prime and instead of doing something productive with his life, he'd been all too easily seduced by the false promises of the street gang life. His poor mother was going to be heartbroken when notified that her last remaining child had been taken by the streets just like the other four before him. At least he had a family who would mourn him properly though unlike some of the other victims she'd come across over the months and years who would be processed like slabs of meat and forgotten only to be numbers in the system.. "Sorry. Yes, he was a cousin of mine." She answered as she stood and moved out of the way for city officials to step in and remove his body so someone down at the coroner's office could cut him open and find the cause of death after pictures and various samples had been taken. "I'm sorry for your loss." Justice muttered as he followed her outside, staying close in case she needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to hide behind while she got her bearings. However, Victoria wasn't the sort to let sentiment get in the way of her job as she turned to look up into her partner's face with her jaw set stubbornly in place while her eyes danced with a silent challenge as if daring him to tell her to go home. "Sorry you missed the other bodies," Justice began, only to mentally berate himself at how stupid that had to have sounded. The woman just saw a relative dead and the best he could do was apologize for the other victims and not show more compassion. "It's okay, just give me the cliff notes version of what they looked like." A touch of empathy in her tone as if she could sense how much his partner was trying to be supportive while not compromising the situation. They were at work, this was what they did. If she wanted sympathy, shoulders and heart-filled hugs while singing kumbaya around a campfire, she was in the wrong line of work. Gently, he pushed the emotional turmoil aside and let cold practicality settle in its place as they stood outside the house and removed the soiled gloves from her hands. "They didn't look nearly as good as..." He trailed off for a moment as she hiked her brows up slightly and nodded. So Marco had been spared a far more gruesome death, at least she supposed as she mentally shrugged. "They looked like they'd been done up with a machete or as weird as it's going to sound, a set of giant claws..." Justice shuddered as she gave a dry laugh. "Well, that sounds like the other group we came across a month ago." She pointed out to him, folding her arms across her chest while her teeth gently pressed into her lower lip. "You remember two years ago when we busted that small drug ring in South Central? Those guys were from South America right? Thought they were hardcore for using machetes to do their victims? I'm starting to think they might be back." She suggested. "You think so?" He asked as she gave a shrug. "Not really, not when the D.A. nailed them to the cross as it were. Sort of sent a message to similar groups and why would they suddenly surface now? Besides, there were no metal fragments found in the recent victims, remember? But neither were there any fur samples found so it couldn't be some wild animal running around. Whatever cut through those bodies, wasn't human but it wasn't animal either. Someone would see a bear and wild cats can't support themselves on their hind legs long enough to slash into a person's body.." As she turned shielding herself as though fending off some unseen attack. "When a person is attacked by a dog or animal, what's the first thing they do? They hold up their arms to protect their face, right? Why then didn't the victims have any cuts or bite marks to the arms and wrists? All that was found were slash marks as if someone were using claws, right? Across the throat, chest and torso area, a couple on the back from when they obviously tried to run. What animal doesn't keep mauling its prey once it's been felled?" She asked as Justice scratched his head as though truly stumped. "Well, a couple bore bite marks and they were missing some blood, remember? But we didn't find any on the ground to support that they'd bled out there. Like the blood had vanished." He spoke up as they lapsed into heavy silence for several minutes. Either there was a group of gothic kids who had their hands in gang activity..or they were dealing with things far out of their league and depth as she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I don't know, Justice, vampires? We're in L.A...not Transylvania or wherever they come from. I'm having a bit of a hard time believing that there's some bloodsuckers running around here fighting turf wars like some supernatural gangsters." She snorted even though the first tinglings of doubt had already begun to settle in place. Was it at all unlikely? Given the evidence? This shit was giving her a headache and she wasn't looking forward to calling her Aunt later to tell her about Marco. Definately not the latter before a hand gently placed itself on her shoulder to shake her from her thoughts. "Vic, go home," Justice ordered softly as she started to protest only to be silenced by a finger pressed to her lips. "Just go home. Nothing more can be done tonight and the only thing left is a bunch of paperwork. You need to rest and let this all sink in. If you're tired, you're just going to wind up making a mistake later."Not one to pull punches even if he was trying to show some compassion. "I'm not going because you told me to.."She trailed off, struggling not to yawn as the two of them stared into one another's eyes. For a moment, there was a strong tension that built around them and the world seemed to fade before she lost the battle and yawned, breaking the spell of the moment in which both of them looked away quickly as if feeling guilty for that lapse of strength and control. "Well, you better call me if there's anything exciting happening. Not like I really do anything on my days off."She spoke quickly, thankful that her dark skin hid the flush of embarrassment in the darkness as Justice cleared his throat and nodded rapidly. "Take it easy, Vic..see you in a couple of days."He waved before moving away from his partner quickly and striking up conversation with one of the police officers in the area. Victoria smiled at his backside then pivoted on the axis of her heel and approached her vehicle across the street. Once settling in the driver's seat, she took a moment to rest the back of her head against the top of the seat and debated on if she should make that dreaded call now..or wait until she got home. Either way, her Aunt was going to be upset and while she hated waking people normally, especially to deliver bad news, this was going to be a hundred times worse than any of those times. "Home," she told herself as she slid the key in the ignition and started the engine, the silver-blue Accord departing its parking spot and leaving the area while her fingers gripped the wheel tightly to hold it together at least until she got home in Van Nuys.</s>

Another problem, come about by the supposed untrustworthy shipping abilities of the movie theater. "I refuse to go to a movie theater that of course decides that Red Vines are better than Twizzlers," Sheldon replied to Leonard, who was offering to go to a movie. Sheldon however knew that the main ingredient within Red Vines was the kind of red coloring dye that has caused cancer in some individuals. Twizzlers were made correctly, and he refused to get a licorice that would kill him. Leonard sighed and took his car keys from the bowl near the door, before opening the door and leaving. Sheldon blinked, "Well that was a little unresponsive." He said, as he sat back down on his side of the couch. He turned on Battlestar Galactica and unpaused it from its previous spot on the DVD player, and then looked around. He was alone. How perfect. The annoyance of humans would not occupy him. He was alone. But there was a whirring noise that was starting to annoy him. Where was it coming from? Sheldon moved up and walked over to the DVD player, followed by pressing the eject button so that his disc wouldn't scratch. It did something worse. The DVD player sparked, and then stopped working. Sheldon twitched. "My... Battlestar." He said, falling to his knees in an epic way. "N-no!" He unplugged the DVD player and then put it into the trash can, followed by sighing. "Do I have to make my own DVD player in order for it not to break down?" But when the trash can closed, he noticed that he was bored. "Maybe Penny is home." He said to himself, and he got his key from the bowl near his door, opened the door, walked outside, and closed it behind him, followed by locking it. Knock knock knock. "Penny?" Knock knock knock. "Penny?" Knock knock knock. "Penny?" Sheldon asked, and he waited for the door to open. He had the Boggle board game, and was ready to play some Klingon Boggle with her if she was interested.

Penny stood in the bathroom, contemplating her reflection with a pensive air. Truth be told, however, her preoccupations didn't quite require the serious expression the pretty girl bore. Of course again, next to her neighbors problems that seemed to revolve around the purchase of limited edition objects from the comic book store and experiments gone awry anything was interesting. Kurt kicked her out of their place when they split, and the guys that followed were an incessant stream of hot yet irresponsible and self-absorbed jackasses whose main topic of conversation was their own persona most of the time. Her job wasn't getting her anywhere; the scent of cheesecake was almost more powerful than that of her vanilla oil. She shook her head softly, a pout gracing the delicate face. She deserved better than that. If even Leonard managed to find someone, why couldn't she? Penny almost smacked herself for the thought. Leonard was a nice guy odd, but compared to Sheldon, Howard, and Koothrapali he was fairly normal. Anyone was normal compared to Sheldon, she chuckled to herself. It didn't take a Ph.D. in psychology to figure out that he was nuts. Not in a bad way though, as far as she knew he was a lot less offensive than even her siblings. Sighing, she tugged on the string holding the short black robe made of silk together, letting the robe part to uncover her nearly flawless body. Grinning at her reflection, she nodded slowly, who wouldn't want a piece of that? She questioned the mirror in her low, playfully seductive voice when the familiar knocking disrupted her as it always would when she least expected it. Rolling her eyes, she pulled her robe back together, leaving the water running as she walked over to her door through her messy apartment. Oh, how she hoped Sheldon wasn't there because he needed her to drive him somewhere or even worse, because he locked himself out of his apartment. Pulling the door open, she stared at him with an exasperated, almost condescending expression in complete silence for a few seconds. Sheldon, she replied in a fatigued voice. What's wrong, sweetie? She wondered, studying him almost the way a mother would watch an annoying child.</s>

Misty sighed as she ran a hand through her long, red hair. How many years had it been? She was 27 years old now... It had been over 12 years since she'd decided to return home and settle down. Unfortunately, the life of a gym leader hadn't exactly been as thrilling as she had been hoping. The competition from the various trainers had been moderate at best. Occasionally she'd get someone good, someone that could actually give her a challenge and beat her, but most of the trainers were just amateur wannabes. Not even worth pitying with some of her weaker Pokemon. Still, what drew most people in was the swimming shows. Her sisters still put on the shows, though despite their insistence, Misty tended to stay away, and certainly didn't participate anymore. Of course all this had left her life boring, dull, and unfulfilled. "Ugh..." Misty sighed as she slowly walked into the main hall of the gym, dropping a towel, wearing only a form-fitting blue bikini. She was going to go for a swim while it was quiet. There were few people around the city at the moment, and she wasn't expecting any trainers to come along to challenge her for a few days. "Ahhhh..." The woman sighed happily as she slipped into the water, then dove beneath and began to swim around in the large glass tank, blissfully unaware of her surroundings beyond the water.

A young man of about 17 smiled when he finally arrived at the end of his journey. The Cerulean City gym supposedly had a famous water show, as well as a beautiful gym leader, not to mention there was a legend of a cave nearby that once held a legendary pokemon. The teenager had mostly ventured here to find that legendary pokemon, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn't interested in that beautiful gym leader. He walked into the gym and looked around for anyone to battle. "Hello? Is anyone here?" The 6'1 male brushed a hand through his black hair and spoke up once more, "Oh you have gotta be kidding me. I'm gonna lose it if this gym is abandoned." He looked around with shimmering green eyes, once he caught sight of the gorgeous woman in the giant clear tank. He walked up to the glass, staring at her for a moment, lost in her beauty. The young male nervously closed his black jacket with the words Fair Play in red on the sleeves and on the back and zipped up to hide his pink t-shirt that had a ditto face on it. It was of course an embarrassing gift he only wore on laundry day. He then reached into his blue jeans' pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled on it quickly. He tapped on the glass several times and held up the paper which said, "Sorry to bother you. Are you the gym leader?" He smiled nervously and waited for her response.</s>

Tessa sighed and ran her hands through her long red hair as she continued to hike, glancing down at the map in her other hand, trying to find anything familiar on it. She had gone up into the woods for a hiking trip with the school but had somehow ended up separated from the group. That was an hour ago, and she had been stuck wandering aimlessly since then. "Oh man," she grumbled, adjusting her backpack. "I'm really no good with maps." She started walking again, muttering under her breath. "Maybe if I can find this river or something then I can follow it... But I don't hear any water or anything..." Tessa scoffed, then started walking a little faster, holding the map with both hands now, studying it intently, trying to force her eyes to see something she had missed before. "Come on, come on," she said, "There's got to be something somewhere..." However, Tessa was studying the map so intensely that she had little to no sense of what was around her, or where she was really headed. Unbeknownst to her, she was actually heading deeper and deeper into the forest rather than out of it...

As Tess ventured deeper into the forest, she strayed farther away from her intended location. Trees began to look identical, blocking out the sun and casting shadows on her. Unbeknownst to the young girl, she had wandered into a rather notorious part of the forest called "Luscious Dreams." The name came from the inhabitants of the nearby town who reported strange occurrences in the area, such as people seeing half-animal/human hybrids running around and snatching fruit from the top of trees, to performing orgies in the clearings. Whether these stories were true or not, this forest was known for another thing - the massive amount of rapes that occurred here. Some said they were attacked by giant devils, but others blamed human assailants. No matter how many were put in jail, the rate of rapes continued to increase. When the sound of men became audible in this usually abandoned forest, it meant only one thing - something Tess wasn't aware of. Hidden by the bushes, a group of five men huddled around each other covering a woman who was lying naked on the forest floor. In the process of raping the girl, who was no older than Tess herself, they were unaware of their surrounds and would not realize that they were being watched. Thrusting his hips deep into the girl, his hands squeezing against her pale skin, one of the assaulters started to cum inside of their victim, getting a soft moan in return. After a few minutes and a slight squeal from the girl, the men finally left, making their way onto a small path not too far from Tess. Once out of sight, the victim sat up quickly stretching her long arms out as she yawned loudly, revealing that her body was practically covered in the men's cum. Her long white hair, parted into pig tails which resembled the ears of bunnies, was covered in tree branches and dirt. No good... no good at all... softly whispered the girl breathing deeply, obviously exhausted from her experience. Parting her legs, she revealed her now bright red cunt, which was slowly leaking out globs of the men's cum along with a long golden chain. Big meanies they were... big meanies! Slightly aggravated, she started to tug at the string, slightly moaning softly as she did. With one mighty tug, she was able to withdraw a rather large conductor's watch from within her struggling to keep her voice from being a loud scream. Opening it quickly, she jumped back as she slowly got to her wobbling legs. Too much fun... too much... I am late... so late... only in this moment after seeing the time did the girl seem panicked before she started to make her way even deeper into the forest. Using the trees around her to keep her from falling onto her face, she moved forward towards a large oak tree that seemed to not belong among the others because of its rather strange pattern on the trunk. Getting to the tree, the young victim fell against it as her legs gave out, however, she held tightly to the tree. It was obvious that this girl was in need of some serious help, but the road that leads out of the maze of the forest was extremely close by, and if Tess followed the girl, she might end up getting lost all over again.</s>