Datasets:

ParasiticRogue

/

Bluemoon-vicuna

like 2

Titans Tower stood on its small little island in the water. The large structure would normally have been lit with the glow of computer screens and other odd machinery. But it had been almost silent for two days now. Most of the team was away, and Robin had stayed behind to make sure things were maintained in the city. Cyborg and Beastboy were off training new recruits in Titans East, and Starfire had urgent family matters back home on Tameran to take care of. Raven, however, was the only one left. To Robin, it was almost like being completely alone. It was actually rather pleasant for the boy wonder. He rarely had a lot of time to think. And after the team's incident with Trigon, he had much to think about. He had always had eyes for the red-haired girl from space; it was not a well-hidden fact that both had been very close. However, that last big battle had also awoken something else. Feelings for another girl. It just so happened that he was left alone with the very girl - the dark-hooded, gloomy Raven. He had never quite seen it before, but both shared loving solitude and darkness as their only obvious traits. He had been close to her, closer than even Starfire, on a mental level during the whole ordeal. Now he was left with a deep gnawing feeling for the alluring sorceress. "What is she feeling?" he asked himself, deep down wondering if she had similar feelings for him. She had asked him, him alone, to help when Slade had returned to come for her, to deliver the dark message. He, however, saw no sign from her that anything had changed between them. He needed to know, he needed to find out, and what better time than now, when it was just the two? He ran a green-gloved hand through his hair, like he had done several times before. He got up and decided to go and talk to her.

Raven had been thinking a lot lately. That's why she had been distant from everyone, including the person she was closest to - Robin. She was taking a shower to relax. Letting the hot water rush over her pale skin. After feeling sufficiently relaxed and calm, she proceeded to dry off. Looking in the mirror, she sighed. Ever since her father attacked, she had been feeling weird whenever she was around Robin. Almost as though every time she was around him, she was starting to lose her self-control. But she was going to have to rein those emotions in. She had been masturbating much more than usual because of her feelings for Robin. She stepped out into her room, her towel wrapped around her hair. Her body exposed. She didn't plan on any visitors. After all, it was just her and Robin in the tower. They had been there for a couple days. Which is why she had been avoiding going anywhere in the tower, fearing that she would lose control and do something she would regret later. She was friends with Starfire. And she didn't want to hurt her by doing something to jeopardize their relationship. She laid down on her bed, not feeling like getting dressed just yet. And cursed herself for thinking about Robin again. Those feelings were coming back. She bit her lip, wondering if she should just masturbate and get on with her day.</s>

Silah Hawke had just turned twenty years old and was listening to her father, The Viscount of Kirkwall, as he told her of his expectations of her now that she was fully fledged adult. The young woman was a skilled warrior, trained and crafted as such by the woman she considered family, Aveline Vallen. Her father was a mage, as her mother had been, but somehow she had been born without a magical inclination; a once-in-awhile rarity, but an anomaly that did occur regardless. Hawke had been a little disappointed that she hadn't had magic, yet at the same time he had been relieved, knowing his daughter would never have to face the worry of becoming an abomination. Her mother and father hadn't much to teach her, so her honorary Aunt had stepped in and trained her in the ways of swordsmanship. Yet, as all things must go, The Champion and his friends were getting older and life was slowly winding down for them. The Templar/Mage war had gone on for at least ten years, giving Silah a great deal of memories to deal with in her childhood, her father and mother constantly leaving to fight incoming hordes of Templars once the Circles had broken apart. A miracle had occurred, somehow, Silah wasn't told the details just that the fighting would finally stop. And it had, for a while, but then her mother had been killed in a struggle with dragons at the Bone Pit; Silah and Hawke had taken her mother's body back to Sundermount and buried her there, where her Dalish kin had been before they'd moved on, as they always did. She didn't look much like her mother and, despite being part elf, Silah looked almost exactly like her father; icy, cerulean eyes and a halo of pretty, feather light blonde hair. The only features she had gotten from Merrill had been her dainty features, her small, pink lips and fine nose. Despite being so dainty, in frame and features, she was a strong swordsman and even carried a heavy two-handed blade, much like her Uncle Carver did. The Grey Warden came around time from time, but she could count the times she had seen him in her life on the fingers of both her hands. "Silah are you listening to me?" Garrett Hawke frowned and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Off in your own world again, dear?" "Sorry, father," Silah gave her father a smirk and shrugged her shoulders, the heavy armor shoulder guards clunking a bit with the movement. "I am still young, must be my youthful impertinence." Hawke's lips twitched, Silah could see it. As much as her father had often gotten fed up with her attitude, he had been the same way at her age; she'd heard the stories. Hell, who hadn't heard stories? At least with her honorary Uncle Varric around;storieswere the dwarf's specialty. "Youthful impertinenceaside, Silah, you should be paying attention. Aveline is going to be retiring soon. I want you to take over for her. You're her lieutenant. I may even want you to take over as Viscount when I get too old, dear. That's why I need you to...grow up, as much as I hate that." Silah started to shake her head, but her father's stern stare had her stopping half through it. "I am being honest, Silah. The war may have ceased, but there is no telling what could happen tomorrow, or a year from now. We can't all stay children and reckless forever." He sighed softly. "Just think about it, okay? Keep it in your mind." "Yes, father, I understand." Silah stood, the cloth of her back skirt falling to swirl against the back of her long, pale legs. "I have patrols, excuse me, father." With that said, Silah swept from her father's office without another word or friendly, family affectionate gesture. It was unfair, she thought, to be forced into growing up without ever really being a child, or a teenager. That was the kind of world she lived in. Thedas was just that kind of place. Children were often forced into circumstances that they didn't deserve, or want. With a sigh, her booted legs carried her down the steps of the Keep toward the Guard Quarters to pick up her route schedule, her shorts hugging her heart shaped bottom. The trek took a couple of hours and by the time she reached the coast, the sun was high in sky; noon time, she figured, shielding her eyes with a hand as she gauged it. Without further delay, she went about doing her patrol, not really expecting much trouble.

Special That was what the men had called him as a child. If it hadn't been for the mass migration of the Qunari, he would have likely had a different life. Half-Qunari, half-Summer Islander, his platinum white hair and violet eyes made him stand out as much as his six-foot-ten frame. Golden brown skin with a hint of copper sheen to it made it impossible for him to hide from anyone or thing. He had always just been called Ari. He knew his father had been killed long ago; his mother refused to speak of it. While they lived in Hightown, he always felt uneasy. They lived as though due to another's kindness - men would come and go on behalf of some mysterious benefactor. He watched them come and go but when he asked questions, the men quickly became replaced by nondescript couriers. He pryed no further into the matter. Rather, he trained. He trained with the Tal Vashoth, he trained with the Crows, he did whatever he could to learn. He didn't train with the Guard, however, or the Mages - he trusted neither. They seemed the types who looked at him with a mixture of fear, loathing, and desire much of his life. His well-muscled body had become the object of attention at a young age. He remembered lords being chased from his home by his mother telling them to go to the Rose for pleasures rather than chase him. As he got older, woman after woman came and lingered like hungry vultures awaiting a chance. He'd focused on training instead. He didn't know why, but he always felt as though his father had fallen in combat and the same fate might befall him if he let down his guard. Then, the voice came. Soothing and sweet, it cooed into his ears constantly. It put to blaze a hunger he'd never known. Had he been a mage, he would have been an abomination by now. But the demon existed for the desire he created, far more delicious than the mere thought of entering the mortal realm. He'd found it harder to resist as it wore on him, so he ran. He found himself one day lost and alone. But there was still hunger. He lured in female travelers who eventually found themselves overcome, leaving them barely alive husks. Those who actually made it back never seemed quite right to anyone. They told tales of an incubus who lived in the mountains who in return for what seemed like your life force offered unending pleasure. One who's touch had forever marked them, one they intended to seek out. However, he got no reprieve. Sometimes he fought, other times he simply obeyed, the demon now a part of him. It gave and took, their symbiotic relationship changing with each day. Sometimes it gave more, saving him from dying when besieged by many, others it took lik when it had him take its toll from his attackers. Today however it was oddly quiet. He sat near the road pondering on its purpose as he waited for a trader. His hair was wild, his eyes bright, but he had gold in earnest and knelt waiting for a caravan. He could interact with others so long as it did not awaken. He hoped his deep black cloak would hide his body well enough. He'd smeared his face with soot attempting to appear dirty. He'd only been here for a month, or was it two, but he'd never made the attempt due to the risk. This place was fairly new to him, but the path was well trodden. So sitting, he waited. His sword was at his side, not enough to be threatening, just enough for preparedness.</s>

It was a cool, calm day on the Muggle streets of London. People milled about on the Black Market District, and whores lined the street trying to attract locals for a night of fucking for money. One whore in particular stood out amidst the crowd. He was tall and lanky, thin but not skinny, and well-muscled with long muscles that flexed and flowed when he moved. He was like a sleek snake or a large panther, all muscle but graceful. Dangerous and beautiful. His eyes were an emerald green that sparkled in the light, his hair an inky jet black that hung in graceful waves down to his lower back, beads and feathers hanging in long braids. His skin was a milky pale color that gleamed beautifully in the snow, long black leggings running down his smooth, hairless legs ending at the ankle to show off the black high heels that he was wearing, the straps keeping them firmly in place around his ankle. A black skirt did little to hide anything, the leggings barely hiding the fact that he was wearing no underwear. He raised a long slender arm and took a long drag of a cigarette, flicking his bangs out of his eyes to reveal a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Harry Potter, was a whore on London's streets, and had been for six years. He had found himself inexplicably human on his sixteenth birthday, when he turned out to be an incubus. A creature that fed on sex and lust, he was almost immediately shunned by the entire school, Dumbledore looking on with pity in his gaze, but no mercy. When the Dursleys found out, they kicked him out with only his wand and Hedwig, barley any clothes on his back to try to fend for himself. He had turned to the Weasleys for help, and they refused him because of what he was. So he had left the Wizarding World with a broken heart and a hurt soul and made his living on the streets of London. He was twenty-two now, and living life as he pleased, how he pleased. He got plenty of money and meals working as a whore and he was fine with the way that he was living, blowing out a long stream of smoke as his emerald eyes looked for a target to ensnare, smirking a little. He didn't even need his wand anymore to perform magic, he had broken it and ditched it two years ago, he could ensnare innocent Muggles with just a glance of his eye, though he preferred not to do that. It was easy enough to get meals with just his gorgeous looks, and he was about to get a customer that would change his life forever.

Ashlin Drakos smiled a little as he walked through the streets of London, his black dragon hide jacket folding around his lanky frame. Despite having the slightly girly name, Joscelin was death on legs, usually those who met him considered it lucky to leave his presence alive. Glancing around him, he smirked a little as he checked out the streetwalkers. After raids, nothing would do to fit his mood than to deal with muggle hookers. Which, was a fact that his fellow Death Eaters would never know; otherwise someone would feel the need to be put out that he enjoyed the muggle whores better than the magical ones. Studying them for long moments, his smile widened. Heading towards the dark-haired beauty on the corner, he cocked his head as he looked over the appealing male in heels. His eyes not rising higher than his ankles, he was fascinated by how it made the man's legs look in those damn heels. "How much?" He asked, his accent vaguely lilting and smooth, sounding vaguely like Lucius when he was in a mood. It was to be expected, he did spend a good deal of time with the Malfoys.</s>

Blackfire smiled as she landed on the roof of the T-Tower. "In three...two...one," she said, and she laughed as she heard the alarm go off inside. The security drones rose out of the roof and started firing at her. With a quick dodge to the left, she avoided a laser shot from one drone and the swipe of a chain saw-looking thing of another. She fired two quick balls of purple radiating energy from her hand, and the machines crumbled, the metal looking charred. She smiled as an elevator rose out of the roof now, and after the doors opened, two figures walked toward her. "Oh my my, I thought you would have had better defenses than that," she said with a haughty laugh as she brushed her black hair away from her face. "Hmmm, you really should get those fixed. It's just sad." Starfire's eyes flashed open, and she immediately rose from her room and flew into the main room when the large flatscreen showed an image of a lone figure on the roof fighting the security drones that Cyborg had just built. Starfire recognized the figure. "Blackfire," she said, and her eyes glowed green. "What is my sister doing here?" After she exiled her from Tamaran, Starfire hadn't given much thought to her big sister until now. She looked over at Robin, anger apparent on her face. "Let us go do the kicking of the butt," she said, her words full of malice, which was odd for the cheerful alien. Starfire was quickly on the roof with Robin facing her sister. At her word, her hands and eyes quickly grew brighter. "I am sorry you were not welcomed properly, but sister, you are not welcome at my home anymore. Leave now, and I will not hurt you."

Robin nodded behind Starfire, drawing his Bo staff, the thin but strong and somewhat flexible polymer rods extending, he spun them with years of practice. Even as he held three birdarangs in his left hand. His right spun the bo staff. He'd been working on a compound to stop the sunlight from affecting cells, in essence a clear chemical coating to prevent sun-based aliens from drawing on their powers. Blackfire would be the perfect test. However, an aching in his groin was noticeable. The "Boy" Wonder and Starfire had been making out before Blackfire had arrived, and while he loved Starfire, the orange-skinned girl didn't seem to realize the effects of arousal on human males. He was sure the bulge was noticeable in his green polymer/latex revealing pants. He just had to hope to get this done as quickly as possible.</s>

A man stood on the platform for the train, watching as the train pulled in with a small smile. At his side, a gorgeous red furred pokegirl stood with an apprehensive look on her face while she watched the train pull in and passengers get off. "Do I have to go?" she asked with a soft sigh. "I hate being away from you." She looked up at her owner with a slight pout, her deep brown eyes gazing up into his green ones. The girl was dressed in a simple black skirt with a white button-up shirt and a small scarf while a pair of simple heels rested on her feet. Marcus smiled comfortingly at his prized pokegirl and rubbed her arms before kissing her on the forehead. "You must go," he said. "You're not getting any younger and I'd love to have a little one from you while you're still able and a poke-breeder is the only way Lena." Marcus was a middle-aged collector of beautiful pokegirls who he took to shows and Lena was the best by far. With over twenty competition wins under her belt, she was sought after by many who wished to breed her with their male vulpixes but he was sending her to the best breeder he heard of even though he knew she didn't want to go so far away without him. At the moment they stood on the platform of the train with her suitcase and her carry-on at their feet. "I will miss you my dear, but you must do this," he said. "I'm sure that it won't take long and I'm sure you'll be comfortable." Once the train was empty of passengers and luggage, they called for the now boarding passengers. "Well, looks like this is it. Got your tag? Got your ticket?" he asked and she nodded, exposing the tag that hung on her dainty, simple but expensive brown leather collar before showing him the ticket in her hand. "Alright. You get on, I'll see you soon." He said. With a nod, the girl grabbed her things and boarded the train, quickly finding a train car where she stored her suitcase and her carry-on. Moving to the window, she waved to her owner before sitting down. Not long after the train began moving and took off for its next destination.

The train rolled on, passing through the wide, beautiful, and scenic expanse of nature that bridged the various cities. It was a mostly quiet train ride, if a little bit quiet. There wasn't really much to be had just riding along, really. However, as Lena looked out at yet another passing pasture, full of Tauros, she felt something bump into her. But it didn't just bump into her and move on; rather, it seemed as if someone had been pushed into her in the crowded confines of the train, pinning her somewhat against the wall, so she couldn't really move over or turn all the way around to see what was behind her. And that was when she would feel it. The shape of a hand, apparently accidentally pressed against the back of her skirt, against her firm bottom.</s>

The hairbrush ran through the thick black hair several times, as Princess Jasmine worked her way through her nightly routine. Everything was calm and safe in Agrabah, and there was certainly no reason to be on your guard. Jafar had been sealed into his lamp, Genie had been set free to roam, and Aladdin was held in a position of honor, tucked away in his own room in the palace. Yes, his own room, since the Sultan hadn't been quite insistent upon the two getting married quite yet. Perhaps he was still waiting for Jasmine to change her mind; more likely he wanted to keep his baby girl for a little while longer. Jasmine had to admit that this latter was quite frustrating to her. She'd long since discovered what happened when you touched those tender bits. Those impressive breasts, the mounds that were swathed in blue silk at the moment, were easy enough to play with. Just bring delicate fingers up to pinch at darkened nipples and rub. Or slide a hand down the well-muscled stomach, running along the waistband of the billowy, silken pants. Just slide a finger there, running along the black hair that lined the sex, and then prod at those lips. Jasmine was half tempted to engage in such acts now, frustrated as she was. Per usual, she and Aladdin had some time alone, which they'd spent kissing with steadily increasing passion. The kiss had done its job, as Aladdin was proving to be a quick learner in that department. However, he was also intelligent, or at least cautious. The moment Jasmine worked his hands down her slim body, he'd balked, insisting that her father wouldn't approve. So the princess was instead attempting to work her frustrations through her hair. She fluffed the waist length mass, feeling its heft as it hit her pert, heart-shaped rear. The princess sighed, rising to her feet. Perhaps she should just sneak into Aladdin's chamber. What her father didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

A low voice entered the room, seeming to be both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The voice was low, lower than any human vocal cords could make, and yet also full of a richness, like dark chocolate or a nice warm bath. It seemed to wrap itself around her and just listening to it would cause a moistness between most women's legs. "Naughty, naughty, Princess," the voice said. "So very naughty. Wouldn't you rather be with a real man? A man who could show you a whole new world of pleasure? Take you to the highest peaks of what your body could withstand?" Jasmine felt as much as heard a hard gust blowing into her room. Caressing her skin and other places seemingly under but without disturbing her blue silken clothes. Hands everywhere that gave pleasure, however promised so much more. The "message" lasted for only a third of a minute, but the spirit hoped that would get the princess to ignore caution. "Say 'I give myself to thee,'" he whispered in her ear. "And I will show you pleasure beyond what you can imagine."</s>

Kaltha Heartblood, Herald of Slaanesh , had been a daemon since the dawn of time. She has been the spirit of climax to humanity since a man first slid his rotten cock into the filthy pussy of a woman. Since then, over the course of 60 thousand years, mankind has grown more intelligent but none the less lustful. Kaltha sensed this in her latest pet. She liked the flayed remains of her last pet from her long fingers, her member finally softening from the week-long orgy that ended in the death of her favored pet. But she feared not, Dha'zahl the catcher was bringing her another boy to feed on. He was young, human and military. A strong man with a steely resolve is always the best fun to break. She sat in her throne stroking the arm rests made of spines and ending with skulls. She looked up at her gaudy door displaying a graphic scene of a crucified woman being raped by a legion of daemons. The smell of death filled the room as the Catcher dragged the unconscious male into the room and threw him on the blood (amongst many other bodily fluids) stained floor. He simply hissed at his kin and left her to her torturous fun. She observed him and stood, striding on clawed feet that resembled high heeled boots and ended in lacing like piercings at the top of her shins. She crouched on top of him and began licking in his ear and dry humping his unconscious body, whispering incantations of eternal wakening to assure he seldom fall asleep during her sexcapades. "Wake up my little morsel." she giggled in his ear.

Eliphas slowly came to, feeling something on him. He didn't even have to see the being on top of him to be aroused; he felt the erotic energy pouring out of the being already. It felt good, it felt sexy, it felt... unholy. His eyes snapped open and he saw the daemonette, and tried with all his reserve energy to push her away, and run out the door. All he could manage was a slight wiggle away, barely escaping her grasp. "Stay away, foul whore of darkness! The Emperor is with me, and I shall destroy you, or I shall die. You will not corrupt me!" He put on a holy face, hoping she wouldn't notice his enlarging member.</s>

High above the large compound of Stormvalley High School, a transport carrier buzzed across the air. Inside, a nervous Tony Stark stood in a suit of steel-colored armor. He pressed an armored finger to the com piece on his helmet. "Dad," he said, "Are you sure about this? I mean, this is still a prototype." Howard Stark chuckled from the other end of the line. "Come on, Tony," he said. "You and I built this thing together. Two genius brains couldn't possibly get it wrong. Now just follow the plan and everything should be fine." Tony nodded and closed the open face of his helmet. He stepped out as the cargo door opened and took a deep breath before jumping off and activating the rockets in his suit. As he felt himself fly through the air, all of his inhibitions went out the door. The students of Class 2011 were all currently packed into the school's hall, waiting anxiously for the first assembly of the year to begin. They were expecting the school principal to make his appearance any second and to deliver the usual humdrum speech, which is why the hall fell into shocked silence when they were instead greeted by the strum of a guitar... "Welcome to the Jungle," the vocalist screamed as a suit of iron burst through the roof and slammed into the stage, landing crouched on one knee with his steel fist pressed against the floor. The platform was suddenly awash in multicoloured lights and fireworks as the steel-clad billionaire launched off the stage and flew over the gasping, wide-eyed students, all while twirling and winding in tune with the Guns 'N Roses song; showing off his flying skills as well as the new Stark prototype. Unlike his usual outfit, the suit displayed a large array of weaponry, enough to warrant a bit of parental hate mail no doubt. "So worth it," he thought as he gave the students a quick wink before ending the ostentatious display with one last flip and another heavy landing on the stage amid a final explosion of fireworks and lights. As the song died, Tony strutted toward the front of the platform, admiring the semi-casual whites and blues of the teens' assigned uniforms. Placing both hands firmly on the podium, the twenty-one-year old began, "I think that's enough fun for one assembly, so allow me to simply welcome you all to Stormvalley High! I'm sure you're all going to love it here." He smiled, confident in his words. "Now, before I begin, I'd like to address a rumour I've heard floating about the halls, regarding the Avengers... All I can say is that Stark Industries is unaware of any metahuman presence within the school." He gave a moment's pause, to allow the message to sink in, before continuing, "The close proximity of the Avengers tower is merely a coincidence and the same could be said for any potential superhumans attending Stormvalley." Tony watched the reactions of the student body, trying to gauge whether they believed him or not, before gazing out a nearby window to the tower which stood just across the street. The Avenger Tower was similar to an apartment building, with each room individually crafted to suit the desires and personality of each Avenger. As a skyscraper, the Avenger Tower was taller than any other in the city, with its glassy panelling covering its sleek exterior topped by an ancient monument of Asgard. It stood as a picture of simplicity and style, leaving many unaware of the extensive array of weapons and sensors which hid under its plain, glistening surface. On the inside, the tower was managed by an artificial intelligence system known as Jarvis, who attended to the needs of its occupants while ensuring a secure, functional environment. Besides supplying the Avengers with refreshments as well as guest entertainment and relaxation rooms, the tower also maintained several training centres, gyms, mission prep areas, and modes of transport. The decor changed from one room to the next, where one might be styled in polished marble, another could have a more wooden, rustic appeal. This was done in hopes of giving the more redundant areas a little more character. Tony Stark had spared no expense, and while he pretended that Stormvalley was simply another eccentric venture for the public, the truth was that it too was created for the benefit of the Avengers. Returning his attention to the assembly before him, Stark continued, "And now I will leave you to your principal, Doctor Xander Rice, to explain the more boring details of life at Stormvalley High." With that, Tony turned to the good doctor to make an exaggerated sweep of his hand, implying that the stage was all his. Xander, a tall, lean-muscled man with dirty blonde hair, looked less than amused by Stark's antics. His russet-coloured eyes glared at him as he stood from his chair, adjusted his white lab coat, and approached the podium. The doctor then proceeded to highlight the rules and expectations of the school in a swift, no-nonsense tone. He seemed to want to get the assembly out of the way as much as everyone else. As he neared the end of his speech, he noted, "Finally, we will be testing a new study program where we assign certain students into groups of three, or perhaps more. You'll receive more details once the groups have been formed." What Xander had failed to elaborate on was that each group would actually be treated like an Avenger squad, to teach them the importance of teamwork and coordination. Once the principal was finished, Tony quickly announced the band's closing song, "Highway to Hell," before flying right back out through the hole he'd made on his entrance. Many of the students began shuffling their way out of the hall and into the courtyard, standing beneath the shade of the clouds that were hiding the morning sun. They chatted excitedly about what the new year might bring, from general teenage gossip to more politically oriented topics (such as the possible resurgence of Hydra). Others simply kept to themselves, watching and waiting. A frozen yogurt stand stood opposite the street, at the base of the Avengers building, while fields for various sports surrounded the students in the school grounds. The day was meant mostly for exploring and adjusting, so nobody had to worry about class just yet... Outside the auditorium, a small beat-up truck drove to the front of the school. The truck had a large circus logo blazoned on its doors. Inside the truck were Clint Barton, his brother Bernard, and their friend and mentor Buck Chislom. Clint and his brother were runaways, orphaned at an early age, and sick of being bounced around foster homes. They ended up at the circus as roustabouts and were being trained by Buck, also known as Trick Shot. Clint was looking down and sad; he would much rather be at the circus shooting arrows than this school and being a part of these so-called Avengers. Buck saw this in Clint, "Clint, I know you don't want to be here but this is a big deal. These SHIELD guys see what you can do and know how to put it to better use than just shooting targets in front of a crowd." Clint still was reluctant to get out of the car, but Bernard bolted right out of the car as soon as it stopped. Buck gave Clint a nudge on the shoulder, "Come on kid, do it for me." Clint nodded his head and got his stuff; the school was a live-in school, so Clint had brought all of his clothes and marksman gear. He gave Buck one last look and left to the dorms. On his way to the dorms, a couple of big burly guys blocked his path. They were dressed in blue slacks, a white shirt, and a pressed blue sport coat--preppy kids. "Hey kid," one asked, "Did you get out of a truck that had the circus logo on it?" Clint responded, "Yes." They all laughed in unison while pointing at him, "You're a circus freak?! What are you, the human fish? The guy with a few extra limbs? A kid with no dick!!!" That brought up more laughter. Clint pushed past them and went on his way, a scowl now on his face.

There wasn't much that bothered Betsy Braddock. She had earned herself something of a reputation for being rather blase about her work. Honestly, it simply didn't challenge her. She would have preferred being out in the field, and after spending her summer doing work with the British Intelligence; she felt it pointless to be back at school. Given that, it explained her current locale, which was perched at the top of the bleachers outside. Her white skirt had been hiked up, smooth ivory skin visible, the blue polo top clinging to her curvaceous torso. Her long, violet hair was down around her shoulders, stunning blue eyes looking as she watched Tony Stark make his grand entrance into the school, Typical. She muttered, scanning the minds of a few of the students, listening as it was a mixture of awe and excitement from most, a few of the men intimidated. She rolled her eyes as she leaned down, grabbing her beige military messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulders as she watched some of the students filing out of the building. Betsy resented even having to come here; her dorm already set up, having managed to snag a single to herself. Her parents had always been the type to spare no expense, although she rarely saw them. A few times she had met Tony Stark, her parents traveling in similar circles as his, though she had avoided alone time with the young man. Betsy made her way towards the crowd of students, a few giving her sideways glances, her hair having that effect. The purple was natural, though her parents tended to tell people that she just dyed it. It had actually been the opposite growing up, her parents covering the purple with a bleach blonde until she was old enough to tell them to fuck off. And she did. Bloody school won't even let me bring my wine," she grumbled, making her way through the crowd, heading towards the frozen yogurt stand across the street. Her eyes caught the glance of a young woman she recognized from orientation a few weeks back, Jean Grey. The woman was oddly quiet and oddly reserved, always with her nose in a book. Rolling her eyes again, the young woman danced across the street with grace. For a woman with natural superpowers, Betsy felt rather out of place. Her own abilities were not unique, and both her older brothers had found themselves mutated as well. But her family had paid for just herself and her brother Jaime to go to the school, her eldest brother already through college and a bit off his rocker. Standing by the ordering window, Betsy ordered a peanut butter frozen yogurt, paying with a hundred-dollar bill before settling in at a picnic table outside. Jean watched from afar as a group of boys seemed to corner a young man. Clint. The head of the school had since let the students out, and Jean, quiet and walking alone while she still tried to find her friends, watched. By now, she had made her way towards the bottom of the bleachers, passing Betsy, a fellow mutant and telepath. She had hoped to chat, though the young mutant seemed perturbed. By now, Jean was sitting with her bag, her shoulder-length red hair held back in a pony tail that was slowly falling apart. Her own uniform was a size too big and not nearly as flattering as she wanted it to be, her frame much more slender than Betsys. Sitting on the bottom bleachers, she took out her cellphone, looking to see if Scott had texted her recently. He was a fellow student at the school, and while he had yet to actually ask her on a date, Jean still obsessively checked. Nothing. Looking a little broken up, wondering if that other student Emma had perhaps started talking to him, Jean tried to let it go, reaching into her backpack and withdrawing her kindle, a gift from her parents before sending her off.</s>

It was a rainy night as a young teen walked through his parents house, they had gone out yet again, leaving poor Toby all alone. "I can't even get a home made meal unless I make it myself," he said softly to himself as he walked upstairs after he had finished dinner. He was about to head for his room when he suddenly stopped and looked over to the door that leads to what used to be his sister's room with a small frown when he saw that it was slightly cracked open. "Huh...I guess Mom left it open after she was done dusting or something." He said as he walked over to the door and walked in. Toby had grown to be about 5'6" with short strawberry blond hair and big bright blue eyes. He was shy and found it a bit hard to make new friends because he was a bit of a dreamer like his sister had been. He liked to play music and dance, he loved anything that had anything to do with art, and he was a bit of a comic book nerd who's best friend had been his only sister for most of his life. "I don't see why you had to move to LA, Sarah," he mumbled to himself as he sat down and looked around her room, only to frown slightly when he saw something poking out from under her bed and saw that was one of her old diaries. Walking over to his sister's old bed, Toby picked up the diary and sat himself down before he started to read through it. "The Goblin King? I remember that book, she use to read it to me all the time...but why is she acting like it's real?" He asked himself as he slowly read through the whole thing before he laughed softly and shook his head. "Right, as if that would work. Goblin King, Goblin King, come and take me away!" He called, deep in his heart though he really was wishing that it would work and he would be taken away from this loneliness that he felt deep in his heart.

The goblins all huddled around one of the many crystals. They gasped as the boy had called the Goblin king. The labyrinth was as beautiful and treacherous as it had always been. Some of the goblins had come and gone, while many of the old creatures had stayed behind and remained unchanged. The Goblin King, Jareth, had remained unchanged. He was still very handsome and lounging on his throne. One leg dangling carelessly over the arm of the throne. His blonde hair hanging around his shoulders. He had been watching the whole scene with his two toned eyes. He then looked back to his gloved hand swatting a riding crop against his boot. The goblins looked at each other. It was no secret that the Goblin King had grown restless, and depressed. He knew that the people outside his kingdom had all but forgotten him. No one called on him. The goblins moved to Jareth and raised a collective eyebrow. One of the oldest goblins moved forward and looked at him. "What shall we do?" One asked. The others agreed. Jareth smiled and looked up at the older goblin. He then looked again to the older Toby. Steeling his resolHe got to his feet and smiled. "Well my minions. You know the routine." He chuckled and laughed. The goblins cheered. In that next instant, the power went down in Toby's house. Outside Sarah's old bedroom window the barn owl began to peck and claw violently at the window. It began to storm and rain violently outside. Soon the owl made it inside. It did a lap around the whole room. He soon materialized from the owl. The handsome devil he always was, a cocky smirk on his lips. He was wearing a black shimmery cloak. "Why, isn't it little Toby?" He put his hands on his hips and grinned wider.</s>

"Well, this is a good place to make camp I guess," Jacob said as he sat his bag onto the ground. He rummaged through his pack, finding the food he would make for both him and his pokemon. Then his can opener. "Come on out girls." He said as he released all his pokemon. First Bayleafe, then Charmander, Roselia, Eevee, Growlithe, and Jolteon. "Well, glad to see you all. Now, let me make you girls some grub." Jacob pulled out a large can, using his can opener he began to pop open the lid. Twisting, and cutting at it until the contents came out. "Tonight you all have a treat. Oran berries." He said, before plopping the contents into a bowl. As he left his girl's eating, he went off to collect firewood. Every now and again he would check up on them. Once he was done with that, he tended to his fire. "Charmander, light it." He said, ordering the pokemon to light the campfire. It did. Then after that he went to go and set up his sleeping bag and bedroll. Finally, his dinner. Bread and some apples... A few hours of work later, and the work was all done. A fully set camp, with a nice toasty fire to warm their bones. The moonlight shone through the trees. With almost a foreboding glare of light. Both beautiful and romantic. He was done eating his dinner, now staring up at the night sky as he digested. He looked around the camp to see all of them sleeping. But, he felt like having some companionship tonight. So he called for his favorite to join him. "Bayleaf, come here." He said with a soft and demanding tone. Patting the ground next to him for her to lay down at his side. Recently he has been feeling more lonely than ever before. It used to be that he wanted someone to join him, someone to talk to while he moved on in his journey. But now he needed that! The only real companion he had was Bayleafe, and all his other pokemon. All of them elegant, and unique. He then sat up from his bedroll, smiling at his favorite girl. His starter pokemon. The one he raised since it was a little egg, and he was a curious little boy who couldn't wait to see what hatched. The one he raised. The one who stuck with him throughout his entire childhood. His number one girl.

Bayleaf didn't take long to respond, waking herself up, and moving at her master's command, right by his side. She lay down next to him, looking with eyes open at Jacob. She was pleased with how Jacob ran things, his choice of Pokemon, how he treated them. Bayleaf had digested her dinner from before, but she was still satisfied and content. She did wonder what Jacob wanted her for now, in the night, but she was willing to do whatever it was.</s>

It was sunset when the caravan set out from the capital city, headed towards the lord's family estate in the country. It was winter in the very rural based state, with fresh snow covering most of the landscape. The rolling hills were shining white with the last of the day's rays, making them sparkle with fading glory. The caravan consisted of a handful of wagons which carried goods for the estate and merchants hoping to sell their items further afield, and a carriage bearing the royal symbol of a white wolf head on a field of blue. For such a small group, there were close to two score guards for this late leaver. Half were on horseback, the other half were walking next to the vehicles or helping them along the muddy road. Inside the single carriage, which was the most heavily protected of the bunch, was the lord's daughter. Amberly Vailiasighed in boredom after only ten minutes of travel. She leaned back, tossing away her fiery orange hair, and pulled her fur blanket closer to her pale skin. "Ronald!" She barked out to her squire, and a thick-set, bear of a man opened the side door to the carriage, looking up at his mistress. "Yes, your royal highness?" He said with a hard time keeping a straight face, knowing she hated her title. "Shut up, when are we supposed to get there?" She asked, pulling the blanket tighter to shield away a chill breeze. Ronald scratched his black beard and looked at the fast setting sun. "If we travel through the night, we will get there at morning. But we will not, we will camp in a couple hours most likely, as soon as we are under the Shimmergloom Forest." She nodded to her personal guard and motioned for him to close the door, sighing again and mulling over the question of," Why did dad send me away to the manor?" She fell back into her pillows and tried to nap.

Nathan - Avatar Lurking in the shadows of the forest were her stalkers. Those bandits of the full blue moon were watching her, eyeing her caravan as they traveled and stealthily followed them until the time was dark, and the moon was high, granting them some stronger powers in their human form compared to when they were in day. Nathan, one of these bandits, watches the girl, rather than the other men of the caravan that the other bandits were looking forward to eating. Nathan licked his lips as he saw the beautiful human. She would be his. Soon the war cry was said, howling and then the rustling of trees and bushes as the bandits emerged and began to strike the caravan, attacking it and its inhabitants. Nathan and the bandits spread out to take them out on all sides, and in the confusion and battle Nathan snuck into the cart and towered over Amberly. "Come with me. Now. If you want to live." He said menacingly as he reached down and grabbed her wrist and began to drag her out of the cart.</s>

It hadn't been that long since my rescue, but it felt like those horrible days were long gone too far in my past to see. So much had happened since that time that I was proud to say I was a mutant again, and didn't wake up every morning wishing I could be normal. I was very fortunate in befriending Sabretooth, Victor Creed, who I saw as a personal savior. Literally the first person I saw as the X-Men invaded the premises. At first, I was completely startled by the beastly being that approached, but upon learning I understood that he was no monster at all. I had previously heard of him as a villain, but those days were long over when he took me in; which he did as his own. He nurtured me; healed me both physically and even mentally. He opened his home to me, and for that, I am forever grateful. Scouting the area, we faced danger. It had been a good while since we last greeted a battle. Things had been very quiet in the past few weeks. It was a nice vacation, but all vacations unfortunately always came to an end. There was no normal life being an active mutant. Attacked by an unknown force; bullets spewed the area. Like usual, Victor protected me with his life, ensuring no matter what that I was out of target for any weapon fire. We were greatly outnumbered, and for once, I needed to take initiative to save him. Quickly focusing, I teleported the two of us back to our home. It was a cowardly thing to do in the middle of a heated battle, but it was unnecessary to fight when we could easily flee. Breathing heavily from the battle, I ended up at the other end of the room from him when arriving here. I signed, looking over to his arm as I approached. I had too. I defended myself immediately, knowing full well that many mutants would find my teleport flea was chicken, and degrading. We were wasting our energy. Well return when we're properly equipped. They'll probably be waiting for us, anyways. I grabbed his arm in my hand. I grimaced at the shards of shrapnel embedded deep in his skin. I caressed his hand briefly turning away. Don't lick it! I walked over to a drawer and pulled out a more advanced first aid kit. I grabbed a set of tweezers and returned to him. Re-grabbing Victor's arm, I hovered my hand over the wound. My solid green eyes illuminated lightly as larger pieces disappeared from his flesh. With each bullet teleporting to a table next to me, there was a light flicking sound of the steel hitting the wood. Stay still please. I used the tweezers to carefully pull out anything left over and too small to teleport with absolute certainty. I placed each piece in the same pile as the others. Having removed everything, I watched as the spotted wounds closed and healed. I set the instrument down before gently stroking my soft pink hand over the once-wounded area. I gave a gentle smile as I looked back up to Victor. I was taken aback by the simple fact that he was gazing down at me. His beautiful physique and piercing eyes infatuated me, and without conscious realization, I pushed my body against his; reaching to press my lips confidently on his. The warm kiss only last a couple of seconds before I became aware of what I had just done. Immediately pulling back, my eyes were wide and my cheeks became flush with embarrassment. I'm sorry. I stuttered, not knowing what to do or what to say. My instinct screamed danger, and I felt an urge to run away. I don't know what came over me- I turned away, moving past him to head for the door. I didn't need to use the door, but in a moment of complete confusion, I forgot I was anything but a normal blushing adolescent. That was deeply inappropriate. I should leave- My heart beat savagely inside the confinements of my chest. All I could focus on was how right the kiss felt, yet how unbelievably wrong it was.

Even with the amount of time that had passed since their last taste of combat, Victor Creed, commonly known as Sabretooth, was not one to just sit around and wait. His free time wasn't so much used for recreation as it was for practice and combat training. Though, he considered it recreation. Nothing helped him calm the animal within more than tearing apart training drones with his bare hands. He may not be a villain anymore, but his fighting style was as vicious and animalistic as ever. It's what made him a great pair with Blink. She was more tactically aware than he was. Combine that with his impressive hand-to-hand abilities, and they were a team to be reckoned with. Also didn't hurt that they had a lot of chemistry with one another, making it easy for them to work well together. But he wasn't fond of how cautious she was. Even when greatly outnumbered and facing inevitable defeat, Victor was the kind to keep fighting and never stop fighting until he or any opponent was dead. So, it was no surprise that he wasn't entirely happy that Blink had suddenly withdrawn them from the fight. She was right to go on the defensive, as he started to open his mouth to gripe and lecture her, but just growled and mumbled under his breath when she cut him off. Though, her little "don't lick it" comment got a quick glare from him. "Very funny," he replied in his deep, gruff voice, plopping down into a nearby wooden chair which creaked and strained a bit under the weight of his impressive frame. There was really no need for her to tell him to be still when she returned and got to work on the bullets, as while there indeed was pain, it was not nearly the worst he had experienced. So, he didn't flinch in the least bit as she got to work removing the bullets and other shrapnel. The only movement of his body being his skin and muscles quickly growing back together with the removal of each piece of metal. But, even with his impressive instincts, he was not able to predict what happened next. He managed to crack a small smile as she looked up at him, but was majorly caught off guard when she suddenly pressed her young, sexy body against him and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss, eyes going wide in shock and confusion as she did so. Because of his shock at the sudden act, he wasn't able to say a thing when she pulled back and began talking herself, apologizing for what she had done. But, as he began to grasp the situation and just what had happened, confusion was not the feeling that began to fill his head. When she had reached the door, he found his own emotions starting to take over as he stood and stepped to her, a large hand reaching up to her shoulder, resting there a moment before he gently turned her around. Immediately after she faced him, his other arm went around her slender waist and pulled her body flush against his, gazing down at her a moment before this time...he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.</s>

When the suns of Tattooine descended below the distant horizon, they gave the inhabitants of the outer-rim planet a brief and welcome respite from their intense rays. The city of Mos Eisly seemed to come alive even more so than it did during the day, with busy streets full of all manner of shady individuals and underhanded dealings. Not even one of them paid much attention to a young fourteen-year-old girl who wandered the streets and sidewalks, her dirty blonde hair which was pulled back from her face into a simple ponytail and her bland, rough-looking clothes capturing none of their interest. Eris bent down and picked up what remained of a long-forgotten pendant, its hinge rusty and the picture that it contained long gone. She smiled and dropped it into her bag of odds and ends that she collected from off the streets, hurrying along one dark alleyway toward the little nook that she and her brother called home. She slipped between two tightly nestled buildings, batting away some laundry that hung between them out the windows and continuing on her way, her wrapped feet padding silently upon the dust-covered streets until she reached a small alcove and dipped into a small entryway. "Aurak! Are you home yet?" closing the door behind her, she called out for her brother while setting down her bag in the dimly lit room. Their house was comprised of only a single room, with a small stove in the corner and a sink, while their beds were merely cushions with bed-sheets laid over them. It was a simple living, but pleasant since she could be with her twin brother.

Smiling to himself, Aurak had been out, pickpocketing as he usually did to get them enough money to at least feed them for the next meal. He'd had a good run through the markets today, and so he'd brought home some food as well. Back home before Eris, he pulled his tattered shirt and pants off, finding the house too hot until after dark. They just couldn't afford to draw notice to the people who owned the building that they were using their energy. They'd been nice enough to give them the access code to this tiny outside storage room, he didn't want to use too much of their energy by turning the cooling on and giving them a headache when their energy cells ran low much faster than normal. When his sister walked in the door, he stayed quiet, grabbing her from behind and turning her to face him. "Boo." he says with a grin, pulling her in and giving her a kiss, although this time it was different to the normal, quick kiss on the cheek he gave her. This time, it was on her lips, a longer, more intense one. With his arms around her waist, he drew her tighter against him before very quickly letting her go as he felt himself getting hard. "Uh... Welcome home... I got some food..." he says awkwardly, trying to keep his eyes from her for the moment.</s>

Snake sat in the back of the police truck as they drove him to yet another facility, it was the same routine as the last two times he had been caught. The man knew damn well he was going to be conned into doing another stealth mission by someone but of course he wouldn't know who until he got to where he was going. When the truck stopped he listened as the door up front opened then slammed shut, he heard the footsteps of the driver as he made his way to the back of the truck to let Snake out. The doors opened and Snake stepped out of the truck, the cuffs on his wrists rather tight. He looked at the line of officers that had their guns pointed at him and glared. The man stayed silent as they walked him into a large building, when inside he was led to an office. A man of no younger than 40 stood before him, the look on his face told Snake he had something on his mind. "Hello Plissken," funny we should meet again, I have another offer for you," the man stated. Snake looked at him as he grabbed a cigarette from a pack that was on the table and lit it. "Bob Hauk, it's a pleasure." Snake replied sarcastically. "So how do you want me to risk my life this time?" Hauk let out a small laugh before he spoke, "Well Plissken... Call me Snake." Snake interrupted before taking a drag of his cigarette. Hauk looked at him sternly knowing the man was playing games. "The secretary of defense's chopper ran out of fuel and they had to make an emergency landing while transporting a remote control to one of America's hidden weapons, it's a nuke and if that remote is activated and that button is pressed we all die," Hauk told him. "Yeah and what's the problem?" Snake asked. "The problem is the chopper made the emergency landing in New York - you know, the prison - the place is crawling with crazies that would just love to get their hands on that remote; they've all got nothing to lose and wouldn't think twice about killing us all, luckily the remote is in a locked steel briefcase so we have some time, I need you to go in there and get the secretary of defense and that briefcase out," Hauk told him. "Yeah, what's in it for me?" Snake asked. "Well, for one I won't send you to prison," Hauk replied, "and two, you'll be paid half a million dollars upon delivery of the secretary and the briefcase." "I'll think about it," Snake said after a moment's hesitation. "There's no time," Hauk insisted. "But you just said we have some time," Snake countered. "Are you in or out?" Hauk asked impatiently. Snake thought for a while before finally agreeing. He figured it was better than going to prison and he had a chance at making some cash, plus he had been there briefly before and knew what he would be dealing with. He was led to a room where he was given weapons and other things he would need before being taken into another room where a man in a lab coat stood. Snake turned and looked at Hauk. "I ain't falling for your shit again," he stated angrily. "If that asshole even comes near me with a needle or anything to inject me, I'll break his neck. I'm not stupid; I remember what happened last time. This time, you'll just have to trust me." Hauk nodded. "We're not going to inject you with anything this time," he assured Snake, "but we are going to equip you with these." He opened a case that contained ten darts and a small gun. "These Plissken, are lethal darts. They contain a poison that immobilizes the body before slowly killing the person they've been shot into. Therefore, when you need to be quiet and can't shoot your guns, use them wisely." After Snake was equipped with everything he needed, he was sent off on his mission. He landed the glider on top of the World Trade Center and stepped out. It felt like deja vu being here again as he stepped into the elevator and rode it down. When he got outside onto the streets, he ran into a group of about five guys who all looked at him. Snake stood calmly until one of the guys tried to grab for his gun. Snake grabbed his hand and snapped broke his arm at the elbow, which triggered the other guys to come at him. He started firing his gun then made a run for it when he saw more people walk out of some of the buildings around him. After about ten minutes of running, he found himself in an alleyway hidden from everyone who had been following him. Snake leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, keeping himself on guard just in case anyone found him.

Maggie stood in the alleyway, she couldn't believe her eyes. She got that warm feeling again; she was such a sucker for him. Her long skirt protected her from the night air, but her barely-there top did little to hide her big breasts and hard nipples. She smiled that wry smile. "So, Snake," she said, "what brings you to this part of town?" She pushed open a panel in the otherwise seemingly brick wall and led him into a small room where she had been hiding since the last time they saw each other. It hadn't been long before she was collected up and dropped back in the middle of New York. She had eventually found a safe place to hide and survive, but not before some rough times. She wanted to get away again, and she was happy to do it with Snake.</s>

It was a damp, warm Saturday night, heavy clouds were rolling over head, spilling thunderous warnings of rain to come, not that it stopped anyone from running around. It was just a little past midnight and a small group of people were walking along the sidewalks of muggle London. "I know this is a muggle zone," Neville said, "but my cousin works at one of the strip joints and they have a new guy there who is so beautiful you feel like dying just so he can have your heart!" And besides, wasn't this supposed to be a birthday party? Neville demanded, smirking at them all. He was throwing a party for his boyfriend, Blaise Zabini, and was dragging them all to a local... muggle, strip club. Of course, considering wizards didn't have strip clubs, Neville was eager to see the purebloods' reactions to the dancers. Blaise was going to freak out, get drunk, and try to rape the dancers, but how would the others react? It wasn't long before a name appeared on the street. Guilty Pleasures, one of the hottest strip clubs the city had to offer, they had the prettiest, the hottest, and the down right lewdest dancers available there. And some of them even put out after if you had the right kind of cash or had an in with the owner. Neville paid for everyone's tickets, the once shy, trembling boy, now a very important wizard, able to grow anything. They headed inside and settled into their red cushion seats and leaned back to enjoy the show, a woman on stage writhing in time to music, slowly tripping until she was nothing but bra and panties, grinding against a bar. Neville could feel Blaise shudder against him. Blaise was Bi, and Neville often let the large Italian 'off his leash' to enjoy the flesh of others, it was a strange relationship. The woman finished dancing and left the stage and the lights dimmed, the music slowed and a new figure stepped onto stage, a male though you could only tell because of the lack of breasts, as his face was hidden by a mask. He began to sway, his skin as white as the moon and shimmering in the half light of the building, as if he himself was glowing. He had hair as while as lilies flowing around his shoulders, curling around his hips and as he moved the hair swirled with him, making those long, silken locks as seductive as the rest of him. Magic swept the room as he ran his hands along his body, nothing serious, just enough to fill the muggles, and the wizards watching with such an intense lust that many of the muggles lost themselves. The man on stage swirled and dance, touching and stroking, and then slid off the stage as if he was made of liquid and settled into a man's lap, dancing still as he removed the mask and bent down to kiss the stranger, Neville and Blaise both barely holding back cries of shock... it was Draco Malfoy, who had been missing for almost eight years.

"...I don't think I'd want to let him have my heart. A little sickening. Might not like the present." Gabriel said looking amused as Neville looked at him, shrugging as he wrapped an arm around Blaise's shoulders, leaning into his best friend's personal space, stealing a kiss before dancing away laughing. While he was a pureblooded wizard, he spent most of his time dealing with muggles as a businessman, and so many deals went on in a strip club. So he for one, knew what was coming next. And he was sooo going to love seeing how Blaise reacted. Poor Blaise, it was going to be so much fun teasing him after they sobered up in the morning. Gabriel settled on his cushion as he watched the stripper, while he appreciated the beauty, he was not one to be moved by women, so he was interested in this male Neville kept telling them about. Smirking as he thought of the club's name, oh yes, he was going to enjoy the guilty pleasures. Watching the male, he swallowed hard watching as he glowed, even at the man being dressed he wanted to lay his lips over that moon-kissed skin. Sipping his drink, he shifted in his seat to hide his reaction to the man's body. Sipping his drink sighing softly as the dancer settled into his lap, thrusting up against him a little, teasing. Before the mask came off, instead of kissing him back, he rested his lips against the man's lips before he coughed, choking on his whiskey as he looked at the pretty blond in his lap. "Blood...bloody hell..." Gabriel gaped, unable to say anything more as he met dark grey eyes, unable to make any more sense of the words. It was so out of his realm of reality to find Draco Malfoy in his lap, that he had no idea what to think.</s>

Yongen was much the same as it had been when Akira had last been here, but that was perhaps to be expected for a small suburb. The same small shops were still on the streets, the same old houses stood in place without even a new drop of paint on the walls. The same people, potentially, bustled around and paid no attention to the young man as he strode along with purpose. "It really is the exact same." The voice, small and slightly girlish, came from the leather bag supported on the young man's right shoulder. A small feline head poked out of the opening in the zipper and scanned around. "I thought the Chief was exaggerating when he said Yongen was the same as ever." Akira shrugged. "Well, what do you expect? A place like this doesn't hold much interest to developers." In the few years that had passed since his hectic stint at Shujin, culminating in him shooting God in the face and saving Christmas, Akira hadn't changed much. He was a tad taller, his musculature a little more defined now that the last awkward vestiges of puberty had been shrugged off. And his hair was a tangled frizz of dark hair, as ever. Akira came to a stop at the small glass door, a sign overhead plainly stating 'Leblanc: Coffee and Curry.' He smiled in a warm nostalgia. As Akira pushed in the bell over the door chimed, and the aging man behind the counter looked up from his crossword. "Oh, you actually came. Nice to see you." He was trying to be cool and impassive, but it was clear he liked Akira quite a bit. After all, he had been much the same when he was Akira's age. "Long time no see," Akira greeted. He hummed and stroked his chin. "Just like I left it... I see the Sayuri is still there too. But something's missing..." Ah yes, of course, the pint-sized hacker who had been his most eager co-worker.

"Mmhm. Yusuke still comes by occasionally. He may have that patron now, but he still spends so wastefully," Sojiro said. Sojiro busied himself behind the counter -- the roaster turned on, a porcelain mug was retrieved, and in record time a piping hot cup of coffee was produced and set on the old wood countertop. He pushed it over the counter to Akira, leaning over the counter as he eyed the young man expectantly. "I've been trying new blends. Take a moment, sit down. I know you've come a long way, so it's on the house, just this once," he said with an amicable smirk. "I'll call Futaba down in a minute." A meow came from the bag, but Akira heard it for what it was. "... down?" "You're still carrying that cat around in your bag?" Sojiro asked, looking genuinely surprised for a moment. He busied himself another moment behind the counter, coming out with a small bowl that he filled with a thin layer of cream. "At least let Mona out. It's boiling out there," Sojiro said, setting the bowl down behind the counter so Morgana could come around and drink in peace. There came a hammering of feet from the back room, bare feet padding on old wooden steps, and suddenly-- She looked just the same. Perhaps her bright red hair was a little longer (hard to tell, as it had been pulled back into a ponytail), and perhaps her face had lost just a touch of its roundness. But it was still the very same Futaba Sakura that burst out of the back room, breathless and panting, resplendent in big baggy black sweats and a moss green tanktop. Her breath caught in her throat as she stood there, small chest heaving-- "... A-Akira!" Futaba squeaked.</s>

It was a night like any other in the Firelight district of the Lower Menthis Plateau ward. Casinos, taverns, bordellos, and other attractions spilled noise and laughter out onto the streets of Sharn's only somewhat-reputable red light district. Aside from the various forms of illegal entertainment, petty crime was relatively suppressed here, in sharp contrast to Dragoneyes and Sharn's Welcome elsewhere in the City of Towers. A visitor here could tell that people were having a good time in fairly relaxed safety. Firelight was even home to the bordello Savia's, an opulent affair that boasted to receive clientele from all the way up to Upper Central Plateau and even the floating Skyway above the city, the highest of Sharn's high society. The Crimson Lotus was no Savia's, but it was nonetheless still well-known as a classy establishment for sophisticated companionship. The escorts employed here were refined, educated, cultured, and very tight-knit. Unlike many of the other brothels in Firelight, the Crimson Lotus did not have a policy of racial discrimination, but the workers were well taken care of and took care of each other. Individually the employees were allowed to refuse a client for any reason, and with how much they treated each other like family, it incentivized would-be clients to be on their best behavior, lest they find that no escorts were "available". Clients walked in and either stayed the night or left with a partner, all routine. It was a night like any other. Until Cavalier stepped through the doors. He was a fairly tall individual, dressed in colorful, expensive clothes. The fabric of the leggings was puffy with red-and-purple checker patterns, accentuated by gold-colored trim. The shirt was loose and flowing, with wavy stripe patterns also of red and purple, with a decorative white-and-gold vest over top. Blue velvet gloves covered his hands. A well-crafted saber was belted to his hip. And lastly, a yellow-feather-plumed blue cavalier hat was perched on his head. All in all, he was dressed as fabulously as half of the Crimson Lotus' usual clients, nothing unusual or standing out in particular. Except for the fact that underneath the clothing was not flesh, but wood, metal, and bundled cords of plant fiber. The warforged turned heads from other clients and occupied escorts as he strode through the reception area of the Crimson Lotus. He walked up to an open countertop, with a portly gnome sitting at the desk behind it, who was giving Cavalier a rather confused look. "Can I...help you, warforged? Do you need directions?" The gnome said slowly. In all the years the Crimson Lotus had been in operation, a warforged had never entered the building. A warforged wearing clothing was even more bizarre. "Directions? Not at all, good fellow," he says, throwing several more oddities out beside the request itself; he speaks with a well-inflected, smoothly nuanced voice, unlike most warforged with usually monotonous tones and clipped words. In fact, Cavalier is missing the usual stone, metal, and wood exterior plating of nearly all warforged, or any kind of plating in general, which is what allows him to wear fitting clothes in the first place. "...Ah." The gnome receptionist utters simply, rather at a loss for words. The receptionists at the other desks can't help but also glance in Cavalier's direction, slightly distracted from the clients they are handling. The gnome ruminates on the very weird situation before him, but eventually nods. "...I see. If you will wait here, I shall...go check the availability of our escorts..." "Certainly. I shall wait," he says with a small, respectful bow, as the receptionist slides out of his chair and walks his jolly weight further into the building, heading for the main lounge. Heads look up as Sebbin steps into the lounge. "Hey, girls? You're not going to believe this, but, uh...there's a warforged outside who wants to hire one of you. Any volunteers?" The gossiping menagerie of call-girls (and a few gigolos) working for the Crimson Lotus had been making their usual small talk, but now everything abruptly skidded to a halt when Sebbin appeared. All eyes stared disbelievingly at him. "You're serious?" One of the human prostitutes--Maggie--eventually uttered out, earning a nod from Sebbin. "...What in Olladra's name?" She muttered. "But...that doesn't...why?" Another woman, a changeling named Jee currently in the form of an elf, asked. "What is even the point? Warforged don't have the parts..." She pointed out, to which Sebbin only helplessly shrugged. "...Maybe it wants to have someone to talk to? Plenty of people come to us for that..." "Hah! I doubt that." The halfling Kayla piped up. "I mean, have any of you ever really met a warforged? I have." Kayla made a sour face. "Worst conversationalists. Ever. They're not called 'war-forged' for nothing, you know. And they don't even eat, right? I remember hearing that from somewhere. It can't want to be taking you out for a candle-lit dinner..." Kayla said with the most emphatic voice yet, and many of her coworkers were nodding along with her. "I mean...I keep an open mind myself." Jezebel, another human, said. "You all know I've been taking that hobgoblin lately who's becoming a regular, Gushaak? You wouldn't expect a hobgoblin to be polite, but he is, and he's great in bed. But...a warforged? Physically or emotionally, they can't even feel like we do!" A few more voiced agreeing sentiments of the pointlessness of escorting a warforged, everyone looking and nodding at each other all the way. It looked like no one was going to stand up and take this client...

"There are many things that most people do not understand about working at a place like The Crimson Lotus," Mia says. "While it is fancy, the ladies and men get wonderful clothes, the food and wine is exquisite, the accommodations are bountiful, and the wages are pretty good, but it suffers from a single major problem." She pauses for effect. "You are always expected to be in 'character' in public, and when your time is not purchased, things can get quite boring. Your nights are devoted to working, and your days are often spent preparing for the next evening. And if no one pays for your time or attention, you merely sit around looking pretty or occasionally serving enticing treats to those enjoying the lounge." Mia takes a sip of her wine as she continues. "It was just such a night for me," she says with a sigh. "The fiery-haired half elf was draped over a couch in the lounge, showing off my new outfit. A low-cut, tight-fitting full-length dress colored a vibrant red and gold. My ample bust pushed up by the lace and leather bodice barely hidden underneath the sheer garment. A split that began right above my hip and ran all the way down showed my smooth, slender, pale leg as I relaxed with a sigh." Mia's stormy blue eyes, like twin lapis glanced up as Sebbin entered the room. "Hmmm," she says, "perhaps this night might be interesting. A special client?" Mia was one of the more expensive girls at The Lotus, having worked there for quite some time and developed a moderate reputation as a witty, fiery, exotic, and quite skilled companion. It also helped that she spoke most languages in Khorvaire at least possibly. There was a rumor that she had once entertained King Kiaus on one of his few visits to Sharn. While these were in fact merely rumors, she had indeed been seen on the arm of many a diplomat, dignitary, or wealthy merchant. Always sporting the red neck ribbon that signified her place of employ. As the other girls voiced their consternation and incredulity, Mia pondered before finally speaking up. "Sebbin, dear, how much is he paying?" At this, the other girls looked over at her, a mix of shock, surprise, and confusion. The momentary silence was finally broken by a deep bellied laugh from the only Dwarf on the Lotus' payroll, a stout woman by the name of Gertrude. "Ah, seems Mia's got an interest. What is it lass? Coming close on a payment on that fine dress a' yers?" She said, getting a tingling laugh from the other girls. "Well, I guess if it paid enough, I mean their money is as good as any? But still... talk about a boring job." Kayla piped in. "Well, it's a slow night, and if I'm going to sit on my ass and be bored, I might as well get paid for it," Mia replied with practiced ease and elegance. With a nod from Sebbin, she got off the couch and swayed over toward the portly gnome. "I'll go talk to him." She followed him from the lounge to the desk, and the waiting 'forged.</s>

It was around 9:30am on a Thursday, and the sunlight was streaming in through the drawn curtains in the rosy-colored bedroom. There was no movement coming from underneath the pink blankets on the large queen sized bed. At least there was no movement until the alarm clock started going off a few minutes later. Moments after the alarm clock started going off, the form underneath the blankets started to stir. The blankets were pushed down to the bottom of the bed a few short moments later, and the young redhead who had been underneath the blankets sat up in her bed, yawning and raising her arms into the air, stretching and pushing her large C cup chest out. Her name was Brianna Saunders, and she had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday four days ago. She had a huge party too, and she had invited all of her friends from school and a majority of those she knew in the neighborhood. It had been a fun night for everyone. Getting up and out of her bed, Brianna walked over to her windows and pulled open her curtains. Her smile widened suddenly when she saw the clear blue skies outside. She turned around and walked over to her closet, and once there, she pulled it open and looked inside for what she was going to wear that day. Brianna had a wide variety of clothes in her closet, but despite the variety of clothes she had, it didn't really take her too long to find what she wanted to wear. Thinking about the weather outside, she ended up pulling out her favorite red and white bikini set. She also pulled out a yellow shirt and a pair of cut-off short jean shorts that would just about cover her ass. With her clothes in hand, she closed her closet door, turned on her heel and walked out of her bedroom. She turned right out into the hallway and walked to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Luckily for her, the bathroom door was open, so she wasted no time in walking inside, closing and locking the door behind her. Brianna set her clothes down on the bathroom counter, then she turned and walked over to the walk-in shower in the left corner of the bathroom. She reached the shower and pulled open the glass door. After pulling it open, she pulled off her pink teddy bear T-shirt and slipped out of the sexy white boy shorts she had on. Brianna stepped into the shower, pressing the power button and turning the dial clockwise. She waited until the water had reached the desired temperature before she stepped underneath the stream of hot water. A smile tugged at her lips as the hot water began cascading over her supple, young body. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the water splash over her face for a few moments. Brianna had always enjoyed taking her time in the shower, which was probably one of the reasons she remained in there for nearly twenty minutes. Once she was finished showering, she pressed the power button, turning the shower off, and then she stepped out of the shower, picking up a towel off the nearby towel rack and wrapping it around herself. Brianna used the towel to dry herself and her hair off, and then she moved over to the bathroom counter where she had left her clothes. She unwrapped the towel from around her large bust and let it fall to the floor. After doing so, she picked up her red and white bikini bottoms and slipped them on. Her red and white bikini soon followed, as did her yellow shirt and short cutoff jean shorts. As soon as she was dressed, she stepped in front of the bathroom mirror. Before she could look at her reflection in the mirror, she had to wipe away the steam that had gathered. Brianna looked at her reflection in the mirror as soon as she had wiped the steam away. She stood at a height of 5'9" and she had a slim but curvy hourglass figure. Her yellow shirt pulled tightly across her large 36C chest, and it also revealed part of her toned and tanned waist. Brianna had wide hips and a firm, round ass that was shown off perfectly in the short cutoff jean shorts she had on. Her jean shorts also did well to show off her toned and tanned long legs too. Brianna had light blue eyes and long red hair that stopped close to the pit of her back. Today, she had tied her hair up into a high ponytail, and after looking at her reflection one more time, she turned and walked out of the bathroom. She briefly returned to her bedroom to slip on a pair of socks and her sneakers, and she also made sure to pick up her phone, purse, MP3 player, and her bag. Once she was sure she had everything, she walked out of her bedroom once again. She headed straight downstairs and into the kitchen. Despite the fact it was just turned 10am, it already looked as if both of Brianna's parents had already headed out. Not that Brianna minded as she knew her parents trusted her anyway. She walked around the kitchen, picking up a few different things so she could get her breakfast. Brianna ended up getting herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice, and when she had what she wanted, she turned around and walked out of the kitchen and straight into the living room. The redhead sat down on the couch and wasted no time in making herself comfortable. She picked up the television remote and pressed the power button, turning on the television. She started flicking through the channels as she ate her breakfast. After a few moments, something on one of the news channels caught her attention. She turned up the volume as the news broadcast was shown. "I'm Alex Thompson, reporting with Channel 872 news. I'm here at the scene of a reported attack said to have taken place hours ago. Reports are coming in of witnesses seeing a strange worm-like creature, and there are others who are reported to have seen some sort of unknown bee. Authorities are yet to confirm any of this, but people are being told to be careful just in case it should attack again. I'm Alex Thompson; back to the studio." Brianna turned off the television as soon as the news report had finished, but still, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about what the news anchor had said as she ate her breakfast. Brianna knew of the place where the attack had happened, and days before, she had seen a similar news broadcast of an attack that had taken place just blocks away from the most recent attack. Brianna managed to finish up the rest of her breakfast, and she drank her orange juice. As soon as she was done, she picked up the empty bowl and glass and took them back into the kitchen where she placed them both in the sink. After doing so, she walked back out of the kitchen and into the living room. She picked up the remote and pressed the power button, turning off the television. She threw the remote down on the couch, turned on her heel and walked out of the living room. Brianna threw her bag over her shoulder, confident she had everything in it, and then she made her way out of the front door. Once outside her front door, she closed it behind her and set off down her pathway and out onto her street. She walked down her street, turning right at the end of the road. The young redhead knew exactly where she was trying to get to. It was a large park that was just a few blocks from her home. It also sat directly in the middle of where the recent attacks had taken place. Brianna wasn't sure why, but she just wanted to check the park out. It took her no more than ten minutes to get there. When she got there, she noticed there wasn't anyone there yet. Not that she thought of it as a bad thing. Brianna quickly started looking around the park, even though she had no idea what it was she was looking for. She walked through the large park, looking from left to right, scanning her surroundings with absolutely no idea what to look for. She had been in the park for a little over ten minutes when she moved over to the far side of the park. There were a lot of trees in the area, and as she moved over there, a strong wind suddenly kicked up from out of nowhere. It wasn't strong enough to knock her off her feet, but it did slow her down. Brianna stopped dead in her tracks when something suddenly opened up in front of her. Her eyes widened when a swirling portal of blue and white light appeared. The young redhead felt too shocked to move, and she just stood there, rooted to the spot even asLunamoncame through the portal. The portal closed behind Lunamon nearly thirty seconds after the rabbit-like creature had stepped through it. When she set her sights on Lunamon, Brianna felt a number of things. The first thing she felt was shock, confusion, fascination, and surprise. A small smile formed on her face as she just looked at Lunamon. Slowly, she started walking towards the unknown creature, and as she did, Lunamon stood with her clawed hands clasped behind her back. Lunamon looked up at Brianna as she got closer, yet she still didn't move. Brianna was about a foot away from the rabbit-like creature as she crouched down so she was at more of a level with the creature."Wow, I've never seen a rabbit like you before. Where did you come from?"Brianna couldn't hide the curiosity in her voice. Lunamon took a step forward, still clasping her clawed hands behind her back."My name is Lunamon, and I'm not a rabbit. I'm a digimon from the Digital World. I've come here because I have to find someone."She looked up at Brianna for a few moments more and tilted her head to the side slightly."Hey, would you like to help me find the one I am looking for?"She asked as she unclasped her hands from behind her back, and then held her clawed hand out to Brianna. A small smile formed on Brianna's lips and then she nodded her head, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear."I don't know what a digimon is, and I'm still trying to get my head around the fact you can talk, but sure, I'd love to help you find the one you are looking for."Brianna's smile widened as she took Lunamon's hand in her own.

A common trait of humans is to not think of the consequences of their actions. Too often a person will act, on impulse or by planning, in the heat of the moment or premeditated, trying to accomplish something. They pay no mind to what may happen, to the ripple effect that even the smallest act can cause. It's not malicious, just a blind spot that a good thing about humans tends to block. Their passion makes them act, creates relationships with others, and it's admirable. Since the middle of the 20th century, technology and machines have been advancing, humans pushing their knowledge and tools to the limit to create the next big thing, to make lives easier. Tiny, handheld devices that fit in the palms of our hands hold more data and transfer more information than entire buildings of servers that existed years ago. It's all taken for granted, how much data is sent around the world, and what might happen because of that. One of the blind spots. As technology got more and more advanced and more and more data was sent, something happened. An entire world was created in the digital space, similar to ours with oceans, mountains, plains, and so on. As we continued to make more and more data and more and more computers, some of the data began to act on its own, becoming a sentient being. More and more of these creatures started to come into existence, and soon enough the Digital World was populated by these Digital Monsters. With technology so interwoven into our lives now, it was only a matter of time before the two worlds would start to merge. Digimon finding a weak spot between the worlds and slipping through, and finding a whole other dimension to explore. Some are kind, playful, just curious about something new. Others have something grander in mind, that this place is theirs, and it's just waiting for a master. It was a beautiful morning, and Erica Winter was taking advantage of it, laying face down on a lounge chair by a pool. She wore a small purple bikini, top string undone that released her large breasts pushing against the rubber of the chair, long sultry legs shooting out from the bottom that held her tight ass. Erica was glad to have a private place to do this like her parent's pool, the girl had a secret that made her avoid things like sunbathing in public. It was a reflex to lay face down like this to hide it. Long brown hair was slung to the side to avoid tanlines of it resting on her back, grey-brown eyes closed as she laid out to soak in the sun. Headphones were jammed into her ears, rock music playing as she relaxed, starting the morning off right. The pool she sat by was nice, a large, in-ground unit at her parents' house. The nineteen year old still lived with them, taking classes at the local college. They'd done well for themselves and liked to show it with their large, fancy home and things like this pool. Her father was a higher-up at a technology company, her mother held a position at an advertising firm, the ideal power couple. Now the baton was dangling in front of Erica, everyone waiting to see what she'd do, how she'd step into the big shoes of her parents. She was a bit stagnant, just getting her general education classes done at the local school, still yet to decide on what she wanted. Everyone just expected her to succeed and get a nice job like her parents, become another rich girl and be happy. That wasn't what she really wanted though, to not truly help anyone. Erica felt she was supposed to do something bigger, and that seemed to have revealed itself almost a year ago. It made her feel like she was different than other people, that among other things... Suddenly she felt a tap on her head, making her frown and open her eyes, shifting her head up. A small, dragon-like creature stared back, mere inches from her face. Erica frowned, reaching up to pull the earbuds out. "Come on, M. Five minutes?" she said with a groan. The creature shook his head, tilting it slightly with a grin. "Nope! We got something. I sniffed it," he said, touching a claw to his nose. The girl nodded, turning and standing from the chair, grabbing her top as it stayed when she moved, not caring that he was there to see. "Darn things can't give us a break?" she said, leaning back to stretch, arms reaching down as she bent towards her toes, then tying her bikini top back onto her chest. Monodramon hurried around the chair, getting close to the sliding glass door that led from the pool into the house. "Nope! Now come on, it's gonna be fun!" he said, restlessly moving around as he egged her to go faster. She grinned, leaving the side of the chair and starting to jog back inside. "You never get tired, you're lucky!" she called down as she ran up the stairs to grab some clothes. A few minutes later she burst out the door, Monodramon right behind her. She'd just put some things on over her swimsuit, some tight jeans and an orange tanktop along with her usual black sneakers. The top had tiny straps leading down to the stretch of fabric that held back her large, D-sized breasts, jeans tight to her bottom. She went to a car, her partner getting into the back as she got into the driver's seat. Admittedly, a pretty nice perk of rich parents was having a vehicle she could use herself, especially for things like this. Starting up the black sedan, she pulled down their long driveway to head into the city. "That way," the purple dragon pointed as they drove through the streets, nose telling them they were getting close, claws gripping the passenger seat as he tried to hide down in the back. Erica nodded, turning and finding a spot to stop. It seemed the Digimon had emerged into a park, which was good for them. Lots of trees, lots of cover, not many bystanders to get in the way or see what was going on. Some Digimon had come into the physical world, but the public had no idea it was going on. Erica hadn't even met anyone else that knew about it, which made it a lonely job to have. Monodramon helped though. He was great, playful but fierce, protective of her, but nice. The two had gotten very close over the last year, feeling comfortable enough with him that the Digimon even knew her secret. She pulled into a parking spot, looking around and getting out with the dragon. "Here we go," she said, locking the car and slipping some gloves onto her hands, black with purple wires lacing through them. They were her Digivice, the machine that truly made her a Digimon's partner and tamer, that connected her to Monodramon to help power him up. The two ran into the dense trees, Monodramon in the lead as he sniffed out their target. It wasn't long before they found what they were looking for, a small clearing coming before them. A small, rabbit-looking Digimon stood near a human, a girl around Erica's age. She was pretty, and the Digimon was pretty cute, but experience taught her that didn't mean much about whether it was friendly or not. "Damn, a witness. Not sure how we're gonna explain this one," she muttered, hiding behind some trees with Monodramon. Taking a breath, she looked to her partner, the dragon glancing back and nodding, ready. The two moved to the clearing, Monodramon brandishing his claws and growling as Erica stood back. "Hey, get away from that thing! Step away from her if you know what's good for you," she said to the Digimon, moving her gloved hand in front of her to read the screen. It scanned, some data popping up before her. It was named Lunamon, a rookie. This should be an easy fight.</s>

I bet you can't stay like this forever," her father teased in good humor. All three of them were in different positions, stretched out on a twister board in the family room. John, her mother laughed, trying to keep her knees locked so she didn't fall. "Just spin the damn thing, Rachel!" John said competitively, trying to keep a straight face. Jennifer was letting out small noises, trying not to laugh. She was stuck, tangled in-between both her parents and her own limbs. Her mother carefully reached out, balancing on one leg while spinning it. "Right color," she read out loud at John. Her father did his best to move one leg between his wife's two legs and their daughter's one arm. He was in an awkward position, almost provocative, with his wife laughing making him collapse flat. Jennifer plopped down, knowing the game was over, laughing out loudly. A little too excitedly for a situation that should have been joyful. Her adoptive parents were in each other's arms, laughing, not minding. The sweet sound of her adopted daughter's energetic laugh brought happiness. Jennifer's laugh was a little jumpy, heated with high breaths as her eyes lit up like a little kid. She coughed out a little, holding herself up with one fist and using the other to cover her mouth. "Easy there, Jen," her father said, not wanting her to get too wound up and start an asthma attack. She nodded, still breathing hard, trying to simmer down her laughter. The doorbell started going off, someone at the front door. Both of her parents looked at each other curiously before Rachel shrugged. Jennifer pushed herself up while still laughing somewhat, but her father was already on his feet saying he would get it. Jennifer took the bottle of water her mother gave her, rubbing her shoulder lovingly as she did so. Her mother glanced at her daughter's Fitbit, which tracked her heart rate and breathing. It was a little higher than normal but still within the safe range. Suddenly, her father was yelling at her mother, but his tone automatically alerted Jennifer. "Rachel! Get Jennifer in her room, now!" Rachael looked concerned. You could hear John giving threats to whoever was at the front door. "Call the police once you get her upstairs." He called back. Rachaels facial features changed to motherly and protective, as if she knew something bad was happening. Mum"Jennifer asked confused as her mother grabbed her hand pulling her down the hall away from the family room, the opposite end from the front of the house. Rachael guided Jennifer up the stairs to the second floor from the kitchen entryway, she rushed them down the hall toward her daughter's bedroom. "Mumwho is that, what's going onis Dad ok?" She asked, scared. As they passed the stairs that led down to the living room, Jennifer looked down and could hear her father's angry words. You have no damn right to be here. We clearly told Dr. Fletcher we wanted no communication, no visitation. We don't want her to know !He yelled at the unknown visitor. Jennifer grounded herself, planting her socks into the thick carpet, making her mother stop. Who is that?She whispered in a desperate tone. She continued to hear her father and the unknown man argue, making her father more and more pissed. RACHARL CALL THE GOD DAMN POLICE PLEASE! He yelled. Jennifer pushed her mom off and started descending the stairs in a rapid pace. Her father looked back, looking worried she was approaching and tried to motion for her to stop but she didn't listen. She got almost to the end of the staircase, and could see past her father at a rather strange, bald man standing outside, he had a hand behind his neck rubbing it nervously. His blue eyes peered up to meet hers, he had the same exact shade of blue eyes. Soon as eye contact was made, Jennifer felt her body go weak, leaning into the banister. She had seen the man before, at the local Philadelphia Zoo several times, each time was meaningless, as he was just a janitor or working concession. She fell to one knee, holding onto the banister railings as she started breathing very hard. John had tried to slam the door but the bald man had wedged himself in-between and was stronger, so strong he caught the door holding it back. She saw what looked like his eyes glossing as he kept eye contact. There was some weird connection, she recognized him, as if she had been across the line and pulled through, as if she had broken time and fallen through to this specific moment. That frontiers had been torn apart. Who are you? She asked, her eyes swelling with big tears. Her mother was behind, consoling her, she had already called the police. The man had kept eye contact, tears silently decorating his face as he has this weird, attractive smile. Your father, her mother whispered, burying her face in her daughter's hair, almost tearful, holding her protectively at a distance on the stairs. Heaven's distraction There's no persuasion Stronger than sorrow It's stronger than It's a matter of choice Learning to trust My hand to you My hand to you Just as simple Just as simple as that You're only human An observer at that And if you're wary Don't believe me at that

Dr. Fletcher already warned him. Jennifer's adoptive parents did not want him involved in her life. For far too long, Kevin had not known his daughter. The urge to keep her was becoming too much to handle, lately. After a late session with the doctor, Kevin managed to sort through all his psychiatrist's files and find the address. He was met with animosity and refused to leave. Recently, Kevin showed signs of being more stable than ever before. This emotional tension was not going to help keep that stability. Despite the police being called, Kevin was not budging. When his eyes landed onto Jennifer's, something extravagant happened. She felt it too. She was practically begging him to save her. His mind was running wild. Look how violent her adoptive father was. She was in tears! They were hurting her and she needed to be saved. Dennis had taken over. Arguably the most violent personality that lived inside of Kevin was Dennis. When this personality came to light, nothing could stop this man. It was almost like he could squat and bench press two hundred more pounds than he could without Dennis' help. With one violent shove, Kevin threw a shoulder into the door and aptly broke one of the hinges. John grunted and was sent flying into a glass table that was near the door. With nothing standing in between him and his daughter, Kevin stormed towards Jennifer. Once arriving, his hands tightly gripped her biceps. Rachel tried to push him away but she was no match. With only one hand wrapping around the older woman's neck, Kevin tossed her down like a ragdoll. Her head slammed onto the ground and the back of her head was busted wide open. Returning his attention onto Jennifer, a sinister smile spread to his lips. My daughter, my beautiful daughter. You look just like your mother. Their eyes were locked and Kevin almost forgot where he was. His lips leaned down and gently tickled her earlobe before his warm breath was whispering into her ear. The whir of sirens outside meant he needed to get his ass out of the house. You and I will be together soon. I have missed you and thought about you every day. You belong to me. I will save you from these people. I will save you from this world. Although he was violent towards her adoptive parents, he was gentle with his daughter. Ten bruises on her upper arms would be visible though from where he grabbed her. Standing up from the blonde, Kevin turned to walk away just as John charged at him again. John had taken a shard of glass from the table and swung at Kevin. It sliced part of Kevins forehead before a swift kick was sent into the older males abdomen and he toppled back onto the ground. With enough time to make his getaway, Kevin turned back around and playfully winked at Jennifer one more time before walking out of the house. The police were getting closer so he took off sprinting and disappeared behind some houses in the neighborhood. He followed backroads and bridges until arriving back home. Well, his home was underneath the zoo where he worked. Nobody knew this even existed. Once he arrived, Kevin locked up and found some old medical supplies to clean his head. Patricia seemed rather upset that he was thinking about his daughter in the context while Dennis was defending himself. Besides, Jennifer was gorgeous. Their whore of a mother should have never given her away. She asked for this. His mother abused him and was asking to be raped. When he turned eighteen, he took advantage of his mother and ended up impregnating her. He thought this was going to be a good thing. It was not because she sent the baby away. Ever since that day, Kevin could not stop thinking about her. They first locked eyes at the zoo a few months prior. Since then, Kevin was fixated on finding her and bringing her home where she belonged. Every day was spent preparing her room and making sure nobody would ever find them. If John and Rachel would not allow him to take Jennifer freely, he would take her by force. Believe it or not, Kevin did not intend to hurt anyone today. He merely wanted to talk. It was all Johns fault for triggering the violent personality and refusing to give up Kevins daughter. Besides, a parent always deserved to have their child. He wanted to be with Jennifer like his mother was with him. Except, he wanted to add the aspect of caring for her. They could both stimulate each other and love each other until the end of days. Nobody was going to stop him from accomplishing that.</s>

It had been a strange night from the very first cab ride. The driver was talking too much, he was too young, too handsome, and Rachel was laughing too hard. Phoebe had been staring at Monica at the bar. It was before the show had started. It gave Monica the urge to fight or flight. They looked like college students, there was something about their vibe, their attitude, it was the look in their eyes. They were having a good time. Ross wasn't there. It was a girls night out. It was the only way to get rid of him in any way. They worked so often, it was rare. Monica and Rachel worked, Phoebe typically just vanished a lot. New York had attracted culture and legend for over two centuries. A new rock band was playing in town, they didn't even have to go over the bridge to see it. None of them could remember the name of the band, the music was a bit of a blur as well. Each of them were two or three drinks deeper than usual. And Phoebe had slipped something into her own drink. She had a plan, it was devious as it was genius. She had known the band since College. She was one of their first fifteen groupies. She could feel her self tunnel vision in the middle of the set as the girls danced together two rows from the front. Monica was in a pleated skirt, her neurosis were as visible as her tiny white panties every time she moved her hips. Her leggings were only up to the middle of her thigh. The other girls had given her shit for dressing like a stripper. It had been an accident, and she spent most of the concert trying to see if anyone was looking at her as she pulled at the bottom of the devilish skirt. Her top was tight, and it pushed her modest tits halfway up to her chin. Rachel had paired together a pair of jeans, and a polyester jacket that was almost fifteen years ahead of its time. It had been a dress-up track jacket. She was so happy that it still fit her, it was the very reason they had even come out tonight. It was orange and white. Her shirt underneath was a bright yellow, and her hair was held up with her sunglasses. One could practically hear her California girl accent just by looking at her. Phoebe's skirt was only a few inches longer than Rachel's, but it was heavier, and her girlish style was shining out. It was a one piece skirt-blouse combination that made her look like a kindergarten teacher who had just been promoted to guidance counselor. She had spent over an hour in the mirror on her hair. They had drawn eyes from every corner of the bar all night. They were allowed to dance on stage during the encore. Phoebe's clothing was already loose. They were wasted, and Rachel had forgotten entirely about Ross. Monica was suddenly proud of her pussy on display, panties wet with sweat, transparent in the stage light.In the next moment they were walking toward the back of the stage, they were in a dark hallway, hands covered in hot men. They were in the green room, drinking more, smoking cigarettes, and laughing. The light was dim, there was graffiti on the walls, and the girls' night out had turned into a dreamland once in a lifetime event. The crowd inside of the green room was slimming, and Phoebe was the only one who didn't notice. Her voice was over an octave higher than usual. The pill in her drink had made her saliva thick, it made her body blush, it made her pussy wet. And, Monica had accidentally mistaken that drink for hers. She had had over half of the dissolved pill. Phoebe was operating off of the placebo effect. Monica on the other hand, was lubricated and ready to fuck as if she had just been to a wedding and been fingered by the groomsmen with a strawberry against her lips for two hours without climax. She hadn't had the feeling in so long, she had no idea how to identify it. She was sitting next to Rachel on the sofa in the dim light. Her hand was rubbing against her best friend's side, slowly. The goosebumps climbed up Rachel's spine, and she was excited to cuddle. She pulled Monica closer and the two of them nearly kissed. At this point Monica actually thought she was dreaming, and Rachel was more comfortable than she had been in over ten years. The suggestions hadn't even started.

Thomas smiled as he walked into the green room. It was cleared out, the bus was busy rocking as his band mates got their orgy on. Thomas hated sloppy seconds, but had lost the bet and thus had to load the instruments. Thomas Alexander Hellsing, or "The Incubus" in his band, was every woman's wet dream. Bright sapphire blue eyes, silver hair brushed back and put into an elaborate Indian style ponytail. A body that would make a model jealous, with firm well-defined abs, and a few scars to add to its character. The large bulge in his leather pants didn't hurt either. Nor did the oil practically dripping off of him. It had been a light show to make the lights on stage glisten off of his hard abs, but in the green room under the direct lights the effect was even more noticeable. Walking in, he blinked as he saw a familiar face. "Well, I'll be blown and have a tongue up my ass," he said, pulling Phoebe into a HARD kiss. His tongue swirling around hers, caressing all the most sensitive places in her mouth. This was the kind of kiss girls over 14 dreamed about, one that made their panties wet. With expert hands, he unbuttoned Phoebe's top. Smirking, he broke off the kiss and said, "Hell yeah, beautiful. I always did love your rack. You don't mind if I borrow it for a bit, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, he put a thick line of cocaine across her tits. Snorting it quickly and easily. He half sat, half fell between Rachel and Monica. Smirking at the strawberry blonde and redhead, he said, "Now now, girls, don't let Tommy end the fun. In fact, let him enhance it." He yanked Rachel in for a kiss after putting a dollop of cocaine on his tongue. Rubbing the underside of her tongue with the cocaine, he let it be absorbed through the thin skin there. He continued the kiss hotter than the one he'd given Phoebe. Then he turned to Rachel, seeing her eyes dilated, he slapped her hard enough to leave a red mark, knowing any flesh-on-flesh contact would make her moan and possibly cum. Grabbing her hair, he kissed her hard, more cocaine on his tongue. Rubbing and caressing her tongue. Laughing, he said, "Now you girls share." Taking both women's hair, he put the baggie between his legs and pushed their lips together. Smirking, he said, "Hey Phoebe, feel like seeing if you still give the best head I've ever had? Feel free to 'Flavor' it to your likes."</s>

Harry Potter grinned as he stirred the potion in the Room of Requirement. Things were good...they couldn't be better as far as Harry was concerned. He was in his final year at Hogwarts, Voldemort had been dead for three years, and finally Harry had been able to settle into a normal life. As well as Ron and Hermione, Harry had expanded his small circle of friends, and it was one of his closest friends, as close to him as Ron, that he was waiting for now. Ron and Hermione were off on a 'date', basically a code word for them to be off having wild sex somewhere, leaving Harry to his own projects. "Okay," he added another ingredient to the potion, then smirked slightly as it changed to a soft pink color, just as the book had said. This potion was meant to make the drinker far more appealing to the opposite sex for 24 hours. Harry didn't intend to let Ron be the only one having wild sex with a hot girl for much longer. The book had been a great find - something Harry had found during one of his many Potions class detentions, this particular one having been found dropped behind a bookcase when he was being made to clean out the potions classroom, which he had quickly smuggled out when he had spotted the contents. "Where is he?" Harry grumbled as he looked up at the door, getting impatient. The potion was ready, but he had said he wouldn't try it alone, waiting instead for his friend to arrive so they could drink the potion together and then venture out into the school to see what, or more whom, they could find. "Come on." He started tapping his foot impatiently, still stirring the potion, two vials sitting by the cauldron waiting to dip inside.

Kain walked into the Room of Requirement casually, as he always did. "Harry!" he exclaimed, "you finished the potion?" He had a thick (but common) British accent. Kain was super excited about this, and he was sure Harry was too. "We're gonna try to get some tail action from our twin sister Krystal," he said with a smirk as he filled both vials. He handed one to Harry and smiled. "Well, Harry James Potter, here goes everything," he said, and with that he drank down the potion that would change his life forever.</s>

Izumo walked down the hallway after class, one of her books tucked tightly against her chest. Her book bag, filled with the rest of her books, lightly tapped against her hip with each step she took. When class got done, Izumo usually left right away while everyone else stayed behind to chat for a while before going to their own dormitories. She knew she didn't have many friends and she was fine with that. She was used to spending time alone. She would know if someone said something behind her back. Truthfully, Izumo really had no friends, at least until she met Paku. Paku was her only best friend and that was enough for her. Sure, it was hard not being able to see her as much once she quit the cram school. Despite that, they still found time to hang out. In the middle of thought, Izumo's fingers clutched tightly to her book and her eyebrows furrowed tightly together in the center of her forehead. Rin was overly obnoxious today. He fell asleep multiple times and when asked to recite a passage from the Bible he completely goofed on the second verse! "Baka." Izumo muttered under her breath as she closed her eyes. Although... Despite his incompetence during class, she couldn't overlook the fact that he was the first and only one in that class to try and be friends with her, even though she wasn't so very nice back. He always had a smile on his face, and sometimes, a blush would come to her cheeks watching him even if she didn't want to. She felt embarrassed just seeing his smile. Why? She had no clue, but she did her best to conceal them... If only... But, whatever! He seemed to have googly eyes toward Shiemi and why wouldn't he? She had large breasts and was actually nice to him. Izumo opened her eyes to look down to the floor as she bowed her head slightly. Izumo believed that if it came to a contest, he would chose Shiemi over her. After Rin and Yukio closed the gates of Gehenna, Rin had been getting closer to Shiemi. Well, at least from what she has seen. Not like she was watching them, or anything! It's just that she had a hurting pit in her stomach every time she saw the two together, and she couldn't understand why. With a great huff of her breath, Izumo blew the thoughts out of her mind. She didn't need to bring herself down like that. She was Izumo Kamiki and she could get any guy she wanted! But only if that guy was Rin.

Rin growled as he looked at the book in his hands. What was he supposed to do? She was the one who left it here in her rush to get out. Why should he have to chase her down and hand it to her? He quickened his pace, hoping to catch up with her on the main school grounds rather than lose her in the crowds. She had been out of it lately, either snapping more than usual or spending her time dumbfounded and staring at him. Had he done something to piss her off? It didn't matter anyway; he rushed up ahead, trying to quickly make his way to her as he moved through the crowd, spotting her dark hair as he pushed past people. He caught up with her, spinning her around. "Geez, it's like you were fucking running," he said, panting slightly and smirking at her. "You left this in class." He handed her the book and tried to catch his breath. "Can you wait for just one second instead of running away like you're better than all of us?" His eyes met hers for a moment before he frowned.</s>

Roxas had yet another dream, a dream about someone named Sora. He had no idea who the young man was or why he was having dreams about him but he was, and some of the dreams were terrifying. The most recent dream he had about Sora involved the young man being beaten into a coma by an army of creatures called Heartless. Roxas wasn't sure what to make of these dreams, and whenever he told his friends about them, they looked at him like he was crazy. Lately, a lot of weird things were happening around Twilight Town, and nobody knew what or who was causing them. He remembered back to when things started disappearing and when he was blamed and called a thief. A sigh escaped his lips as he got out of bed and made his way over to his dresser to find some clothes. When he found an outfit he liked, he got dressed and made his way outside to meet up with his friends Olette, Hayner, and Pence. When he got to their secret hideout, he made his way inside and sat down on the couch, he looked around and forced a smile. "Roxas," Olette said, "what's wrong?" "Nothing," Roxas replied. "Why do you ask?" Olette shook her head. "I can tell something is bothering you by the way you forced that smile." Roxas sighed. He knew there was no way he could hide his true emotions from his friends; they all knew him too well and could tell when he was upset. "I had another dream about Sora," he admitted finally. "This time, he was hurt badly and put into a coma." Olette looked to Hayner and Pence after Roxas told them what was bothering him. "And those dreams, Roxas," she said. "I just don't get it." Hayner nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me either." Roxas thought about it for a little bit before finally agreeing. It couldn't hurt to try and take his mind off of things. "Maybe we should do something to take your mind off of these dreams," Pence suggested. "We don't have to spend any money or anything - just look around." Roxas thought about it for a moment before finally agreeing. It couldn't hurt to try and get his mind off of things. As Roxas and his friends walked around Twilight Town, they visited almost every store they could. The four of them had gotten some sea salt ice cream and were sitting up on the roof of a building where they sometimes hung out when they were bored. So what should we do next guys?" Olette asked. After a few moments, Hayner looked at everyone. "Let's go visit that haunted mansion," he suggested. "Aw, I don't know, Hayner," Pence replied. "That place is creepy." Well, duh, it's supposed to be creepy," Hayner responded. After a little while and a whole lot of arguing, the group finally decided to go to the mansion mainly because Roxas wanted to go for some reason. The four of them made their way to the mansion and walked up the path, they could hear eerie sounds as they walked and Pence and Olette both looked scared while Hayner and Roxas walked in front of them as if nothing was phasing them. Not even the creepy sounds coming from the woods. When they finally reached the mansion, Roxas and Hayner walked straight up to the gate while Pence and Olette slowly made their way up. All of a sudden, Olette let out a scream of terror, making Roxas and Hayner turn to face her. What happened? Why did you scream, Olette? What's wrong?" Roxas asked. Olette didn't say anything; instead, she pointed toward one of the pillars that was by the gate. There was a girl lying next to it. Is she dead?" Pence asked terrified. Both Roxas and Hayner walked over to the girl, Roxas looked at her and saw that her chest was moving up and down, which told him she was breathing. No, she's not dead, just passed out," Roxas told Pence. He then put his hand on the girl's shoulder and shook her gently. "Hey, wake up. We need to get you out of here. Wake up. It's not safe here," Roxas said as he attempted to wake the girl up. He hoped she would respond so that he and his friends could bring her to safety; the haunted mansion was known to be a very dangerous place to be, and that's why people rarely ever went there.

This wasn't a dream. It was more like a deep slumber, a dreamless slumber. For sometime she couldn't get a firm grasp on consciousness. And even when she could, her body felt paralyzed. There was no way she could call out for help. There had been no recollection of how long she had been in her nearly lifeless state. Her head felt foggy as she braced her body to awaken. But it would not budge. It was as if it were waiting for something...Or in her case. Rather, someone. Her fingers twitched a bit at the vibration of the ground. Footsteps. Strangely the sound of two footsteps seemed much stronger than the rest. Much more distinct. As they approached she could only faintly hear the frightened scream of one of the strangers. It was not long before she could feel the presence of someone near. It was the touch of someone that broke her from her frozen state. Her fingers curled as she stirred. Warmth beginning to flow through her body. Her violet orbs appeared as her eyelids opened to a lidded position. The figures around her looking blurry, and for a moment she felt threatened, frightened. But soon her vision cleared. Not thinking, she absently began to move. Wanting to sit up, wanting to do something. As she did so, an unfamiliar stirring in her chest startled her. Sitting up, her hands cautiously moved to the area just beside her left breast. Beneath the material of the cream colored sun dress she was in, she could feel just barely a bit of warmth. And a beating of some sort. Closing her eyes, she listened to it, the rhythm ceasing to falter. In an instant she knew that she had never felt something like this. She also realized that she didn't recall anything. Nothing before the dreamless slumber. It was just a blank section in her memory, in her mind. It was as if her entire mind was wiped out. She was aware of things around her, and what she called herself. Many words and questions began to pour into her mind immediately. A look of panic beginning to form in her violet eyes as she looked up at the four strangers. Opening her mouth, but nothing coming out. Just a pleading look in her eyes as she looked toward the boy with the sunshine like hair.</s>

Tim Drake sat alone atop a Gotham sky scrapper. Was he in his red and green Robin attire? No. Was he in his black and red redesign of the Robin suit? No. Thanks to a certain Damian Wayne those suits will not see the light of day for quite a long time. His new suit, now under the identity as Red Robin, consists of a long-sleeved red tunic, along with black boots, tights, gauntlets with triangular fins for defense , cape and cowl (homage to his now former mentor). It also includes a black-and-gold utility belt that carries his weaponry such as his bo staff (Tim's personal favorite) and throwing discs. He would admit that the suit is nothing new, Tim had been wearing a hero costume for awhile now and they all started to feel the same, but this one felt somewhat different. With the past suits they were all connected by the simple R on the left side of his chest. He was taking over a position already filled by two other people. This suit was different, it was his own, no others before him have taken this title. He was now truly his own hero. With that thought he got up from where he was sitting and looked over the city. It was time to make himself known. He stepped to the edge of the building and took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. After the exhale had ended he took a small leap off of the roof. He plummeted toward the ground, the wind whipping around him, the cowl keeping his hair from blowing all over the place. When he was a few meters from the ground he gripped his cape. An electrical signal from his gloves went through the material in his cape and stiffened the spines in them and the cloth tightened around them to form stiff wings. The wind caught in the pockets and Tim was able to pull out of his dive and into a speedy glide over the rooftops of Gotham. God he loved being the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, it had so many perks! Along with the new gadgets he had taken on extra training on Bruce's advice for he and Dick to follow the path of training that Bruce took to become Batman. Why the extra training and new gadgets? Simple, to become better than Jason Todd, also for a bit of vengeance. The past two times he had crossed paths with him he was left beaten and bloodied and even took a partner hostage. He had felt so guilty for letting Power Girl fall into his hands. No telling what the hell that bastard did to her while Tim recovered from his wounds and trained. Tim thought he had it under control; he had scoped out Jason's hideout and knew points of entry. He then had Power Girl, a Kryptonian for Christ's sake, backing him up on this. Still, Jason got the drop on them, and the next thing he knew, Jason was beating the daylights out of him with a crowbar and then slipping a knife between his ribs and left him to bleed out. Luckily Bruce had been looking for him and was able to get Tim out of there and treated. All he could find were trace amounts of Kryptonite. Jason had some, that's how he nabbed Karren. Now Tim was able to track Jason down again, and this time he knew he had all the knowledge he needed. He found the building and dove bombed right through one of the windows on the roof. He quickly stood up and shouted, "Todd!!!" And speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Jason stepped from one of the shadows in his iconic red helmet, clapping slowly. "Well well well, Timmy," he said. "Look at you! New costume and all!!! Are you here just to see little old me?" Tim had no time for witty banter and kept to tackle him. They fought and fought until Tim gained the upper hand and ripped the helmet from his head, the damn bastard was smiling. "Where is she!" he demanded. "Where is Power Girl?!" Jason smiled wider. "You mean my little cum dump? Why don't you see for yourself." He pressed a button on a remote he had in his jacket, and a light turned on. Tim turned in horror to see Karren Starr beaten, her costume torn and her stomach swelling. Tim put two and two together and a great rage swelled within him. "Does it make you mad, Tim?" Jason asked, grinning evilly. "Does it put a fire in your belly to just snap my neck for what I did? You know I wonder what she'll name my boy. Well, you don't really know if it's mine, it could be a friend of mines or another villain I let in on it!" Tim knew he was bluffing; Jason was too much of an egotist to let anyone else have at her. Jason was just trying to make him mad. Tim looked around and found a crowbar lying near them, poetic justice. Before Tim could get it, Jason held out something in his hand - a gun. "Come on, Tim," Jason said with a smirk. "Bats ain't here to say no." Tim shook his head. "No, Bruce set the rules. No guns, no killing." Jason laughed at his retort. "Come on kid, grow up! I raped your pal and now she has my kid! It's your fault she's like that, and I'm responsible as well. So come on, take it, put it to my head and squeeze that little trigger.... Come on!" Tim quickly reached and grabbed the crowbar shouting, "No!!!" and beat the crowbar across Jason's head. He hit the ground limp, unconscious. Tim called Jason in and then practically sprinted to Karren. He knelt next to her and examined her. "Karren... Karren look at me, it's Tim Drake. Are you ok? Is anything broken or fractured?" He needed to get her out of there before the cops arrived, but he needed to know if she was alright to move.

One of the last things Karren remembered before passing out was the shame and humiliation of her situation. The powerful superhero had foolishly thought that nobody on this earth had known her weakness - she had thought of herself as all-powerful, invulnerable, just doing her friend Tim a favor by tracking down the bastard who had beaten him up several times. She had agreed to help Tim find Jason, to let her friend have the last laugh and beat him into submission to help his bruised ego... but the night they had found him 30 weeks ago turned out to be, bar none, the worst in her life. When they had landed in his hideout, she immediately knew something was amiss. She felt weak... but her powers were still with her. As they walked farther into the hanger/hideout, she felt herself drop to her knees. "T...Tim..." she groaned, unable to move, her arms and legs like jelly. She couldn't even yell out as the super villain dropped from nowhere and commenced to kick the ever-loving shit out of her friend. She couldn't do anything about it - he cast Tim out of the lair and scooped her up, transporting her to a getaway car. He flashed a pendant of kryptonite at her - that's what was keeping her down and out. The next day was a nightmare of sex and humiliation, as she was raped repeatedly by the villain and his henchmen, taking great joy in wreaking some revenge on the blonde superhero that had put an end to so many of their hideous plans. She wept tears of horror when she was told that she was pregnant, the villain running an ultrasound over her stomach, showing her the children that he and his men had created. For seven long months this continued. Rapes, beatings, basically treating Karren as a prostitute. She watched her body swell in horror, hoping that he had been lying about the pregnancy. But from her swollen belly and huge breasts she knew it was the truth. And when the baby began to kick inside her, she couldn't be joyful...she was furious at what had been done to her. Adding to her humiliation, she wasn't even given the dignity of being able to wear maternity clothes. No, the villain had commissioned a special "growing" version of her old suit. It was biologically connected to her body, designed to swell just enough with her body, but not enough to hide just how large she was getting. She could wear nothing else...it came off of her when she was fucked, showered, or went to the bathroom. It was horrific! On the day of her rescue, she had been beaten most of the morning. As her vision blurred in and out, Tim appeared in front of her, asking if she could move. "Y...yes I think I can," she said, struggling to get up, her huge stomach making movements very difficult now.</s>

The Underhives were like a labyrinth of mazes, tunnels and rooms that lead to dark ends, no-ends, and more often than not they led into other even more intricate open spaces or narrow tunnels. Sometimes these tunnels collapsed ages ago, or where on the verge of doing at this very moment. Putrid and polluted water trickled down from cracks in the ceilings, no doubt wastewater from factories or purification plants on the higher levels. The thumping of machinery couldn't be heard due to the level after level of plasteel that severed any and all contact between the Underhive and all other parts of the massive Hive City. All kinds of people, and sometimes not even technically people, made this their home. Banished citizens were a common sight, mutants also common. Sometimes even stable strains of mutants could be found, but those where either avoided or hunted down just as fiercely as the common mutated creature that stalked these tunnels. More often than not they made their own communities. Often imitations of the society above, or just the crude assumptions of what it would be like. But truly, the most common was the strong ruler commanding his subjects who huddled together with hopes of protection from the other horrors of the Underhive. And sometimes... Some communities strayed away into even more debased ways of life. Cults would arise that worshipped illegal denominations of Emperor worship, but it was just as common to find covens of heretics that gave their devotion to far more insidious deities. Khorne for the murderers, Tzeentch for the cast out that read too much or the far too politically involved, Nurgle for the sick that prayed for his protection and blessings... Then there was Slaanesh. She-Who-Thirsts, the Dark God of pain, pleasure, vanity and excess. It was the terrifying effort of these cultist and their cooperation that nearly brought the entire Hive down on its knees. Rebellion was in the air, but with the aid of the Sisters of Battle, Space Marines and the Imperial Guard, the revolt was pushed down to whence it came. The fighting was fierce though. Both sides engaged in hit-and-run attacks, attrition warfare and massed assaults on key positions. Sadly, there would be casualties as it was the inevitable consequence from war. Some died fighting, some died from ailments caused by wounds or disease. Others would be taken captive. The Imperium executed the traitors and the heretics, while the dark forces didn't always just settled with merely killing their victims. One Imperial Guardsman and one Sister of Battle would experience this first hand. Both had been knocked unconscious in the thickest fighting and been dragged away. Undressed and tied up, they found themselves next to each other and facing a large bonfire. They were in some large chamber. Tapestries and banners hung on the walls, depicting cruel images, sexually charged images and some just outright bizarre and impossible to deduce their meanings unless you would have had some deep insights in the workings of the insane mind. They were surrounded by robed characters, their faces partly lit up by the licking lights of the fire. All beautiful women in their prime, it seemed. All smiling. All of their eyes set on these two women, who were propped up to their knees and facing the fire. Ample bosoms and thin waists were easy to spot through the pink and purple robes that did little to masquerade their figures. It seemed to be a ceremonial garb, hardly serving any practical function. There seemed to be a dozen or more of these women, or presumably all were women at least, and everyone of them had their eyes on these naked captives. It was predatory eyes, admiring eyes and sultry eyes that glued themselves on the duo's bodies. Then, one of them moved. She walked to the opposite of the bonfire, and she was mostly obscure by the flames and burning wood, but there was enough free sight to make out that she was raising her arms above her head, and looking to the tall, clothed ceiling. Judging from her arms alone, she seemed to have a beautiful alabaster complexion. Her voice was beautiful as well, like that of a singing bird voicing herself for the entire world to hear. In reality, this wicked cultist intended for one specific being to hear her. "Oooh, Slaanesh! Oooh, Dark Prince! We give you these two as sacrifice to you! Have their bodies, have their minds, have their souls... As we take them in your name, as we take them for you... as we take then in the name of pleasure and delight!" And then the entire crowd, their eyes still locked on the vulnerable pair, began to grin impish grins. They all knew what that meant, and they had been waiting long enough to satisfy themselves.

Corporal Jesse Rosen and Battle Sister Erena both woke up at around the same time, groaning from the painful blows they had taken to their heads. Erena, being much more hardened by her trials as a Sister of Battle, and the much more intense physical training she had received, was the first to regain full awareness of their situation. She found herself completely stripped, her well-toned body glistening with sweat in the heat of the nearby bonfire. She was very well toned, but lithe and curvaceous, possessing a dangerous beauty that was common among the Sisters of Battle. Her stark white hair hung down to her shoulders, and her white lips grimaced as she recognized the master of their captors. The colors, the sexually themed decorations, the general beauty of their members, all were clear signs of the Lord of Excess. "By the...what the hell!?" Jesse Rosen exclaimed, just now shaking off the dizziness and realizing her lack of garments. "Who the fuck are you people!? By the Emperors Blades I demand you let us go!" She was furious, casting curses at them and invoking the name of the Adeptas Astartes chapter her brother had been recruited into. This surprised Erena, and gave her a little hope. With another believer, maybe they had a chance of fighting their way free. She looked over the Guardswoman with interest, trying to gauge her abilities. She was larger than Erena, well built, her body honed from either a hard upbringing, or diligent training under the Guard. However she still possessed an exotic beauty, she would have fit right into the Sisters if she had the drive. Her short red hair and fair complexion made her assume she hailed from one of the colder worlds, perhaps Valhalla. And the sweat profusely running down her well toned skin proved the assumption. "Calm yourself soldier. They will not listen to you. Their minds are twisted by their false gods." Erena said plainly, searching the room calmly for some means of escape. "Easy for you to say! I have to..." Erena cast a harsh glare to the Guardswoman, and she fell silent, took a deep breath, and collected herself. "I am sorry Battle sister. I forget myself. Find us a way out of this, and I am at your disposal." Erena smiled, not warmly, but pleased. There was potential in this woman. Perhaps if they escaped she would put in a Word of Recommendation for the Ordo Hereticus to consider recruiting her. But when she heard the Cult leaders prayer she grimaced. Their intentions were foul indeed. They may survive this, but not without losing something to the great demon god. "Steel yourself Guardswoman. They intend to use us to satisfy their god. Resist them if you can, but save your strength for escape." She took a few deep breaths. "Whatever they do to us, we shall repay ten-fold in the name of the Emperor." Jesse looked at her with a moment of fear in her eyes. "I....yes Battle Sister...I will do my best. For the Emperor." Jesse gritted her teeth and waited for the cultist to make their attempt. She would not be easily taken, not by these heretics.</s>

"Get up freak!" the boy shouted right before kicking Travis in the ribs hard. Everyone who had gathered around to witness Travis' daily beating erupted with laughter as Travis continued to take a beating. The fights were never fair; it was always at least a four-on-one assault, and Travis wasn't a very big kid, not like the kids that beat on him anyway. Travis didn't know why he was a target for such abuse but he couldn't change it either way, so he just let it happen after a while. He didn't even attempt to run knowing that when he got caught and he usually did, the beating would be ten times worse. The next kick came even harder, making Travis lose his breath for a moment. "Look at this little faggot," the boy taunted Travis yet again. Travis knew that the jerk and his friends were going to let him up but it was just so they could knock him back down. Angry, Travis got on his hands and knees then slammed his fist against the ground before getting up. Everything went silent then a loud crash made Travis jump. He stood up and looked around. Everyone who had been gathered around him were now lying in various places at least fifteen feet away from him. Some were bleeding pretty badly, and others weren't moving at all. Travis swallowed hard and took one last look around before running off. As he ran, he contemplated going home but he thought better of it. His parents, although they loved him, would never understand and would probably think he was crazy and lock him in the loony bin. When Travis got to the train station, he bought a ticket that would take him far away from where he was. He boarded the train and took a seat in the back away from most of the people. He tried to keep his face as hidden as possible just in case word got out about his little incident. "Travis, I've been looking for you," a man's voice stated softly. Travis could feel his palms getting sweaty and his heart start to race. He was screwed; the cops must have been called, and he was gonna be put in prison for what he did. "Don't worry, Travis, I'm not here to arrest you," the man said. "I'm here to help you." Travis looked over after hearing the man's words. "How did you know what I was thinking?" Travis asked curiously. The man gave him a soft smile before speaking again. "My name is Charles Xavier, and I'm just like you. I have a gift, and so do many others at my school." "School"? Travis questioned. "Yes, a school of people just like me and you. I promise to protect you and help you control your gifts, Travis. All you have to do is come with me." Xavier stated still smiling kindly at the young man. "How did you find me?" Travis asked. "It wasn't hard, Travis. Your mind was racing, and I could read you very easily." Travis opened his eyes and sighed, his mind bringing him back to that day often. Every time he thought about it, he felt bad. He wondered if any of those kids died that day after he sent them flying across the football field, and if they had, he would never know. Travis never meant to hurt anyone; in fact, he never really had it in him to hurt anyone. But he couldn't control what happened on that day. He tried to convince himself every day that it was just an accident, and he wanted to believe everyone was okay. But he couldn't. He remembered wanting those kids who were beating on him to get hurt right before he sent them flying, and he couldn't help but think that his anger was what brought all this on. He got up out of bed and began to roam around the mansion like he usually did when he couldn't sleep. Travis had been at Xavier's School for five years now, and within those five years he had learned how to control his powers quite well with the help of Xavier and the rest of his staff. Travis was thankful that Xavier had found him; otherwise, he may have hurt others not knowing how to control his powers. He made his way into the kitchen to grab a drink. When he looked in the fridge, however, there wasn't any soda in there. Sighing, he walked over to the pantry and grabbed a twelve-pack and brought it back over to the fridge. After loading it in, he opened one can and looked at it funny - he hated warm soda. Just as he was about to take a sip, he heard footsteps coming from the doorway. "Hey, Iceman," Travis stated, seeing the young man walk in. "Can't sleep either?" "No, I just have a lot on my mind right now with Rogue and all the missions," Iceman said in response. When he went to go into the fridge to grab a soda, Travis looked at him. "Just as a warning, all the soda in there is piss warm," Travis stated. With a smile, Iceman grabbed a can and cooled it with his powers before grabbing Travis' can and cooling that too. "Thanks, man," Travis said, taking a sip from his soda. He sighed with content as the refreshing cold liquid went down his throat. After talking with Iceman for a little while, Travis made his way out of the kitchen and continued to roam. He sipped on his soda as he walked down the halls. On nights like these when he couldn't sleep, Travis liked to go to a place that only a few people knew about to clear his head. He made his way to the elevator and took it all the way up to the roof. When the door opened, he walked out onto the roof and sat down in one of the chairs he had brought up there for times like this. As he sat there, he practiced making his shield - it was the only power that needed a lot of work, and he wanted to get it down so that if he needed it, he could use it.

"You're such a tease!" Valerie cooed, a strapping young man on top of her, nipping at her neck. "No, you're just impatient!" He told her into her ear. She laughed, feeling him up and tugging on his shirt. "And what's with this thing? You should get rid of it." She told him. "In good time..." He chuckled, starting to feel up her shirt. Valerie gasped and pushed him off her. "TIME!" She exclaimed and stood up, looking at the clock on the kitchen oven. "Fuck! I have to go!" She cried and bolted out of the house. The boy sat down. He had not even known her name. She just walked in the front door and asked if he was alone. He said yes, and she started making out with him. Now she was gone. Halfway there Valerie realized it was much too dark, her curfew was WAY overdue! If she dared try go in the front gate she would be caught for sure. Most students did not have a curfew. Valerie was a special exception. It was to try and stop her from doing stuff like this. She slapped her hands to the trunk of a tree and put her feet to it too. Her skin melded with the bark and she was taken up. Near the top she let go and grabbed onto a branch that she made grow, having it carry her over the top of the Mansion. She landed on one knee, then looked up and froze. Someone else was up here, "Oh, hey..." She smiled, standing up straight. "You a teacher?"</s>

Alyx looked at the text he had received from Ritsu asking to meet her in the light music clubroom. She better be right in saying that we won't be caught. She knows damn well that the school states no boys allowed on the premise. The two met during their freshmen years as they were each out with their friends. The way that she acted, how she looked, and how she talked drew her towards Alyx and he just had to have her. First, he just made friends with her and put up with the constant teasing, but he soon began dropping subtle hints that he was interested in her. He thought that he would have to say it outright, but she must have picked up on his hints because she actually asked him out. Needless to say, the two hit it off pretty well on their first date as they seemed to be able to play off each other teasing quite well. This has been going on for three years now, and they entered their senior year not too long ago. That is where our story begins. Alyx sighed as he remembered the window that Ritsu told him he would have enter through. He really didn't want to climb, but he was going to deal with it just so he could see her. Mio, Mugi, and Yui were all absent today so she was in the clubroom alone. Once there, he found that there was a ladder going up towards the window into the club room. Odd, she must of put it there. He shrugged as he climbed up the ladder and into the clubroom. "So, why did you text me and tell me to come here? You know I'm not allowed in this school." he asked once inside the room.

Impatiently, Ritsu sat in the clubroom of the light music club and waited for Alyx. She was quite nervous, but not scared. It was more anticipation and lack of patience. She had waited for this opportunity for some time and now it was there. The meeting was called off, so she was the only one in the room. Of course, she didn't intend to practice all by herself (not that she practiced often, even when all of them were there). But what she planned wasn't something she could tell the others. Mio would probably fall into a coma if she heard it. Then again, she probably would just by hearing that she has a boyfriend. There was a reason why she never told the others. She wondered when he will come and considered sending him another message, when he finally arrived and climbed through the window. Ritsu smiled when she saw Alyx, quickly stood up and went over to him. "You're finally here!" she said loudly, instead of greeting him normally. "So you found the right window. But that wasn't really hard, I guess." She drew some confused looks, when she placed the ladder there, but nobody said anything. Ritsu was surprised about that herself, but she didn't complain. "I know that, but it makes it more exciting. You know, I thought it would be a lot of fun to do it here sometime. That would be today, since our meeting was called off," she said, without explaining things much.</s>

Megan had managed to carve some time out to enjoy a fairly human thing. She was at a party. Her skin was pale and her red hair was short and stopped mid-ear. Her eyes were blue and she stood at an average height of 5'6". She looked around the place, her last hour at the party having been spent as a wallflower, refusing to dance with boys who reminded her of her ex, Connor. She smiled, moving away from a wall toward a boy. She had on a skin-tight red skirt long enough to cover her ass, but when she bent over just a bit of the black lace thong was shown. Her top was a black cropped corset that showed off her perfect D-cup breasts. She hardly covered them with an open red blazer. She wore flat boots that went up to her knees. She put on a flirty smile when she stood before the man she had eyed from across the room. Her red lips parted slightly and she said, "Hi."

Thomas blinked as the hot girl talked to him. He wasn't ugly, but his crystal blue eyes flowed over her curves, he had to admit she was sexy as fuck. Swallowing, he said, "Hello beautiful, I'm Thomas." Thomas was a bit taller than average at 6' 9", a bit pudgy but not really fat. He had dirty-dishwater blonde hair brushed back and gelled. He was wearing black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and a simple denim jacket. He slowly gained control of himself as he asked, "So what are you up to?"</s>

As his students piled into the classroom, Cameron greeted them all with a smile and a hello, as they took their seats. Even though things weren't as bright or easy as they could be, Cameron tried to keep everyone in a good mood. Unfortunately, it was raining outside, and the quidditch pitch was muddy and slippery, making it hard for the students to take off. So, he decided to let them do some book work for class, so that they could still learn some things about flying without actually having to fly. He looked around the room to make sure everyone was there and noticed someone was missing. The young woman had missed or been late to quite a few of his classes lately, and he was starting to get worried about her. "Does anyone know where Anya is?" he asked, looking around at his class. A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand, and Cameron nodded, letting her know it was alright for her to speak. "She's being punished right now," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't know what for, but she was stopped in the hallway just before we got here." Cameron sighed, then opened his textbook. "Alright, everyone, open to page 52," he stated, his tone soft. It wasn't hard to tell that he was upset. As much as the man wanted to go and help the girl out, it wasn't that simple. The Death Eaters had control of Hogwarts, and the staff there had no say in what went on anymore.

Anya spent most of Camron's class being "punished". It was the downfall of being who she was... She was finally let go and she walked, or most would say limped, to his class. Her head throbbing and her body sore from the intense punishing regimen that the Carrow siblings had been using against her. Some of their favorites were using the Cruciatus curse, and corporal punishment which included beatings and cutting with knives. So it wasn't a strange sight to see Anya come to class with her face bruised, or a cut or two here and there. She walked into Camron's class, feeling horrible because she was once again late. She didn't make it for most of the lecture. Using her hand to guide her into a seat. Since her walking stick had been taken. She had a rather nasty bruise sitting on and above her right eyebrow, and a small split in the skin was slowly leaking blood. "I'm terribly sorry Professor," Anya said apologetically. Her voice so soft, so sweet. How she had been cursed with a monster's bloodline no one could understand. It was a true case of nature versus nurture.</s>

Princess Hayden had seen better days. In fact, she couldn't recall quite feeling worse than she did at this particular moment. Barely had she been on her quest for a week now, and already she'd faced her first loss. Her brilliant, shining armor had been battered, nearly to the point of shattering. Her spear: Freya, weapon of the Valkyrie, lay point down several feet from where Hayden was heaped. Her shield had been battered so severely that it nearly stuck to her arm. Scratches marred Hayden's tanned skin, and a few pink spots showed where she'd already had to call upon the sacred powers to restore her health. The golden blonde hair, envy of the kingdom, hung lank and limp about her face. Even her beautiful complexion had been marred. Frustration and anger might look out from those sharp, light brown eyes. Failed. The great Virgin Princess had set out, wanting to right wrong and, most importantly, end this disgusting display that her kingdom put on every five years. Women and men from all over would come and engage in what essentially amounted to giant orgies. Warriors, mages, monsters and thieves would gather and fight one another. The winner took the loser, often in public and often in a manner that was almost humiliating. Fight enough battles, and you were invited to a tourney of champions. All those who participated, let alone won, in such the tourney were known throughout the land, often lauded for their prowess. A woman who did well in the tourney could literally pick her man. And a man could gather a harem of women ready and panting for him. Hayden had felt nothing but disgust for this. When the event had last come, she'd barely been in her teens, hardly qualified to fight. Now, the girl was in her late teens, having seen her eighteenth summer and then some. She'd been training hard, and had believed that she would come out of this battle as a victor. And in doing so, she'd wipe this disgusting competition from the Earth, purging her kingdom of its filth. Yet here she was, scrambling in the dirt, defeated and only after her first opponent. Hayden knew the terms: she knew what was to come next. She kept eying the man, waiting for him to move. She had to allow him to... to take what was his. But she didn't have to like it; she certainly wasn't planning to. "You won," she admitted, each word obviously costing her dearly. "So what are you going to do now?" You could hear the words "disgusting pig" in each syllable, and she almost spat on the ground as she finished. Those blazing eyes were locked upon her opponent, daring him to move, to even consider taking what he'd just rightfully won.

Nathan had been like air as he seemed to so easily defeat the girl, not knowing of her royal blood and how pure she was, what with her being a virgin. His black hair was spiked with purple dyed tips that barely popped out. He moved so fast that the purple was the only way you could see him, and this could be assumed why people called him the Purple Night. He was fast and accurate and all you would see would be purple when he came at you, even in the darkest of darknesses. He cracked his knuckles, having beaten her with his bare hands, never using an actual weapon as it would only slow him down. Once he had managed to beat her, he started to flail his hand lightly, as if he had punched something hard. Though, this would be the case multiple times. Her armor was...powerful. His hands felt like they were going to break. Upon seeing the condition her armor was in, however, he felt proud of himself and grinned. "Damn. I am NOT getting rusty!" He chimed smugly as he approached the girl as she lay defeated. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, grinning deeply as he moved the hand along her skin to her chin and had her move up to look at him. "Hello there, missy...I'm so glad that you lost. Now I can have some fun with you." He would pick her up into his arms, and looked around at the crowd in the arena. No...Not here. Not with her. This was his first win. He would have this all to himself. He would slowly walk out, letting the arena staff handle gathering the scraps and shards of her equipment to later give to her when Nathan was done with her. His white skinned hand placed itself on her cheek as he laid her down on the bed, still in her armor. "Tell me...Girlie...What is your name? I want to know the name of my first victory. That way I can moan it out while I fuck you...I'll go ahead and tell you mine, that way you can scream it instead of whatever god you go by when we have our little sexual romp. My name is Nathan Stone."</s>

The plane kept jostling and shaking as if this were a shot from a bad film instead of real life. The few passengers had been bracing themselves for some time now, occasionally shooting wry smiles or apologetic looks to one another. They were all there for the same reason; there really wasn't another reason to head out this far into the country. A recent company had formed, one called "A Coalition to Save Africa" or Acosa, as it was more commonly referred to. Acosa had already done wonders to improving some of the more backward areas of the country, bringing "the fine ideals and standards" of the West. Mostly it was an extension of charity, but it seemed to have a knack for cutting through red tape. Hence the shaky plane. Its passengers were actually decidedly higher class than would usually be flying on such a deathtrap. MissKaley Cuoco, female star ofThe Big Bang Theoryand semi-comedic actress happened to be one such passenger. Currently the curvy, sexy blonde was busy bracing herself on a rickety chair, shooting apologetic glances to the handful of people who'd agreed to accompany her. On the other side of the plane was oneNina Dobrev, another breakout television star, though hardly a comedic one. Nina looked, if possible, even worse off than Kaley. The girl almost looked a little green, though she was putting on a brave face: smiling through her discomfort. Both girls were dressed more for comfort than for anything else, knowing that there would be a short walk after the plane before they headed to the semi-remote location. They were both participating in a TV for Africa promotion. they'd come out to do a special appearance for people, donate some time and money to local organizations, and even spend some time getting to know the locals. Kaley's show had become a huge hit even here, so it only made sense that she'd be invited. The situation was similar for Nina, with her breakout role causing a sweeping sensation among a younger crowd. Of course, it was also altogether likely that there was an entirely different reason for inviting two beautiful women into a remote location, but surprisingly, neither girl suspected as much. At last, the plane landed. Disheveled, disoriented, and generally just glad to get off, Kaley, Olivia, and their assorted crews exited the plane. There would no doubt be people there to greet them and escort them to the more distant, remote locations for the actual activities, and the girls were more than ready to move on to that, even if the ride proved a little rougher than they would have originally thought.

Olabode wasn't considered a warlord, but he was known as the most powerful man in this part of Africa. So it had come as no surprise when the rich man Tyler Harris had contacted him with a very interesting idea. First Tyler had opened Olabode up to a whole new world of sex and bondage, using one of Olabode's black women to do so. They then built a home deep in the woods where privacy could be had, in many places where they couldn't be seen Tyler had placed devices called cameras. They had something to do with the televisions many families now owned, through a process Olabode wouldn't even pretend to understand. Once the place was built, Tyler promised to bring Olabode the pretty white woman from the televisions to him. Olabode stood with his giant arms crossed, wearing American jeans and a white tee-shirt beside Tyler, the two of them watching the plane come to a stop. Tyler had explained the process to Olabode; the girl would have a gang following her; a gang that Olabode couldn't simply have his men kill. There was a trick Tyler had come up with, while driving through the woods Olabode with the girl at a sharp turn he would escape the other vehicles following, another jeep taking the lead. Olabode was then free to take the girls to their secret home, where he could do as he wanted. Soon the plane came to a stop, a set of stairs pushed to the open door and people began to stream out. Following just behind Tyler, Olabode watched as he met with not one, but two pretty ladies. The blonde one, Kaley he had been expecting. The darker one, Nina was a surprise but a very good one. Tyler then introduced Olabode to the two woman. He shook their hands, It is very good to meet the both of you. I will see that you both enjoy everything Africa has to offer A wide smile was given; although he was the tallest male in the crowd, and the largest as far as muscles went, when he smiled he looked completely harmless. It was a trick he had used to take over this section of Africa. Olabode listened as Tyler explained to the two woman and their gangs that Olabode would be taking them in his jeep, ahead of all the other vehicles, so he could point out certain landmarks as they went to the first location; and answer any questions the two ladies might have. Once the introductions were done, and instructions explained the large group went over to the large assortment of vehicles waiting for them. Olabode opened the back door to his jeep, motioning for the women too get inside.</s>

"Greetings Vault Hunter! Now that you've reached the Bullymong den, I'll need you to use the phial I gave you. That blue liquid is a special kind of pheromone extracted from a young Monglet. If you douse yourself with that, then the Bullymongs should think you are one of their own. This will allow you to get up close and record their social habits without putting yourself in any danger! A brilliant plan indeed!" Kaliope activated her storage deck and removed the bottle Hammerlock had given her when she took the job. The phial materialized in her small hand, and the first thing she noticed was the color. "Um...sir Hammerlock? You said it's a blue liquid, right?" She asked uncertainly. "Yes, yes. That's the one. Now douse yourself and release the camera-bot. It will follow your location while taking videos of the Bullymongs in their natural environment." "Ah...yes, I get that part...but this bottle is red, and it doesn't say 'Monglet' anywhere on it. It says 'Bullybabe in heat.' What does that mean?" There was no response from Hammerlock right away, which made her worry even more. "Aha...not to worry! Simple mix up of labels and food coloring I'm sure. Go ahead and spread it on, and make sure to cover yourself as much as possible. If anything does happen, I'm sure you can handle yourself just fine! I'll see you when you get back!" The transmission ended and Kaliope was left standing there, overlooking the Bullymong den, and having some serious doubts about this plan. Unfortunately she really needed the money. This whole week she'd survived on what she could steal from bandits, and buy using the little money she scrounged during her jobs. She was only sixteen, and had no real skills to call upon. So normally all she could do was cleaning jobs, deliveries, and various other menial tasks. This one paid better though, maybe even enough to put her up in the spare room Moxxi had for rent. So she gritted her teeth and opened the bottle. She dribbled the liquid over her arms and rubbed it into her skin, then applied the rest everywhere else she could, until it was gone. The fluid was warming, and very musky. She wondered if all Bullymongs smelled like this, after all she'd never actually been up close to one before. "Okay Kallie....you can do this. Not to worry, Hammerlock wouldn't screw you over....just walk in, and get the video..." She tried to assure herself as she slid her petite frame down into the den. She made little noise, and nothing came out to attack her. "So far so good..." She took a few steps in, testing her luck. When nothing happened, she let out a big sigh and tried to relax. Only to lose consciousness as something smacked her upside the head. An unknown amount of time later she woke up with a groan, to the feeling of something heavy and hot laying on her face. She turned to the side only for her face to be smothered in some hot, musky pillow that felt like skin. Even when she opened her eyes she couldn't see anything, so she turned back, and went completely cold with fear. There was a cock on her face, and that pillow had been the balls connected to its base. Worse yet, that cock belonged to a Bullymong, which was panting over her, drool seeping from its mouth. "Fuck...." Was all she could say. She was surrounded, several Monglets ambled around her, their own cocks standing fully erect. She didn't have any sexual experience, so she had nothing to compare too, but she was sure most humans didn't have dicks as big as those Monglets. Then of course several adults surrounded her as well. Bullybabe...in heat...she was going to kill Hammerlock if she survived this. Perhaps there was still some possibility of escape....

If there was a chance to safely escape the clutches of four-armed beasts able to hurl rocks as big as a man, it was still to reveal itself. And in a way, she already was lucky. Few people woke up after being attacked by a bullymong. Even if waking up means being greeted by the sight of big, orangish meat rods of horny beasts. Heavy panting of excited monglets filled the air, as the one whose cock she woke up under, rubbed his meat back and forth on her face. The creature seemed to be quite confused. One part of his primitive mind knew that something was wrong. That female looked all wrong. Not enough limbs, little fur, small frame... But the other, more basic part shouted "A willing female! Fill her up!" Sir Hammerlock: "Hello, lass. Are you there?" His voice sounded through the ECHO communicator. "I turns out I actually had a bullymong female pheromones here. I have to stop arranging my samples when drunk. Are you there? Wait, I'll just get the cam-bot feed on my screen... Oh my... That's not good." That's one way of describing a bullymong more and more persistently trying to find a fitting orifice in Kalliope's body to put his prick in. And with her other suitable holes being hidden under her clothes, he tried to go for the only visible one. She felt his hot, pulsating and sticky cock rubbing her cheeks. The smell was so intense it was almost intoxicating. Lucky enough, being such a massive creature, their pelvises were very small compared to the rest of their burly body. That means smallest of monglet cocks present were average for human body. Other monglets could be considered "big" or "very big" in human scale, but well... manageable. Sir Hammerlock: "First of all - don't scream. High-pitched noises are likely to make them aggressive. They don't seem willing to cause you any intentional harm, so do not provoke them. I will gather a rescue party and send them your way in a shortest notice possible." As he said that, the monglet molesting her at the moment started snarling and pounding his chest with his upper arms. Lower pair reached down and grabbed her by hair and her left shoulder. He shook her a bit, with an irritated growl. Other monglets around started moving from side to side giving out noises of anger and impatience. Sir Hammerlock "Oh, that one seems to be frustrated from the lack stimuli from your part. Better do something to calm him or he can get violent. I'm off to find some help. Try not to die in the meantime." And so, the scholar went silent. Which couldn't be said about young bullymong trying to find a way into poor girl's mouth, smearing hot precum over her upper lip and left cheek. He starts to look... angry.</s>

Azure and Elena exchanged curious glances as they passed through the gates to this strange facility. It wasn't professionally built, rather pieced together, albeit with some skill, from all manner of salvaged materials. Still, the size alone was impressive enough to house dozens upon dozens of various animals from all over Pandora. It was like a shoddy zoo, only it was supposedly a research facility. "This place is kinda neat..." Elena mumbled as she looked through various windows at the lifeforms inside their cells. There were Bullymongs and Varkids, Spiderants and Rakks, almost anything the two of them had ever seen in their travels. "Yeah, creepy too." Azure was taller than Elena, and her body much more athletic. Her skin was deeply tanned and her crimson hair was done up in a thick braid running from her forehead to the back of her knees. Elena had fair skin, and a petite but curvy physique. Her silver hair only went past her ears. Both were wearing similar outfits, with skin-tight combat suits beneath varying clothing. Azure wore a tactical jacket and baggy cargo pants, both red over her yellow skinsuit. Elena had a pink skinsuit, with a white hoodie and pleated skirt. If they looked a tad....out of place on Pandora, that was because they had only just arrived. They came with dreams of finding the Vault, but as soon as they heard Hunters were being targeted, they laid low and pretended to be bounty hunters. So far they'd gotten by on odd jobs, the occasional easy bounty, and fucking for shelter. It had been a serious change for both of them, but Pandora changes people, and after a few times it became instinct. Even sex was a weapon on this planet. It took a bit to find their way through the facility towards the point marked on their heads up display. And when they finally did, the two young women found themselves confused by the sight of a Claptrap, overlooking all the creatures. "Um...excuse me? We are here about the opening for some lab assistants? Can you point us to your boss?" Elena asked somewhat directly. The job request hadn't said much in the way of what they'd actually do, however it paid well with the possibility for bonuses. As a bonus, it said guaranteed protection from danger. It was hard to pass up an offer like that on Pandora.

"Ow! Hi there, ladies," the little robot exclaimed in an excited voice before disappearing into some corridor without giving the two girls a chance to reply. The animals in the cages made loud noises or became noticeably restless as the quirky bot passed them by. After a short while, the sound of cans falling over filled the facility as the same claptrap from earlier came rolling up to them with a clipboard and a white coat in tow. He stopped before them to pull out a monocle he screwed onto his bionic eye to look at his chart. The strange robot looked like a pretty standard claptrap unit with some minor upgrades that seemed to be done by himself or someone who either wasn't too great with tools or slightly intoxicated or any combination thereof. Mostly the extra bolts on his front chassis and two extra panels under his spindly arms, which housed support for his arms most likely, were the most obvious 'upgrades,' or those that were even visible at all. "Mmmm... yes... you two seem like the only candidates who have shown up... So if you both are interested, I think I could find something to occupy you two with. You two will probably be assigned to our research and development part that focuses on the breeding and interbreeding of creatures on Pandora..."</s>

"I cannot believe you Willow," Tara stared accusingly at her girlfriend, utterly betrayed. "How could you do this?" She paced their little den, looking at Willow who folded her arms and refused to look back at her. "I'm sorry, I know it was wrong... but I just couldn't handle you being so mad at me." "I would have calmed down, been more reasonable. But you took that choice from me. You broke my trust and erased my memories. I feel violated." There was no other word for it. "I need you to go Willow. I need some space." Willow's head snapped up. "No, don't leave things like this... we need to talk about this." "Youneed to talk about this. I don't trust you any more Willow. You need magic like a drug, you've become so controlling and it's twisted, what you did to me. The only way I can be sure you won't mess with my head is for you to go somewhere else. Pack a bag. You can go stay with Buffy or somebody. I can't have you here right now." "I'd never-" Willow began but Tara cut her off. "Yesterday I'd have said that too but the fact is that you did. You didn't even admit it to me either Willow, I had to figure it out for myself. You were never going to own up." Willow rose and lifted her hands in a placatory gesture. Tara flinched, her own hands moving in a reflexive blocking motion. Willow froze, finally realising the full impact of what she had done. "This isn't even just about that," Tara continued. "I've seen you looking at boys, I even found a number in your purse the other day. I know you're bi but you're in a relationship with me. I hate feeling like I'm not enough for you." "I was drunk when I was given that number, I forgot it was even there. I love you Tara." Willow looked her in the eye then, still frozen and with her hands in plain sight. "Is it because I won't use that... thing you bought?" Tara asked quietly. "The feeldoe? Oh no baby, that was just an idea, you know, a bit of fun. I completely understand that it's not something you want to do. I was going to take it back to the store, it's not like we opened it or anything." "How do I know Willow? How do I know what else you've made me forget?" Tara's head was in her hands now, but when Willow tried to approach her she shook her head. Willow connected the dots and sputtered in indignation. "Are you asking if I ever... if I made you forget something sexual? Are you actually asking me that?" "I don't know. I don't know what to think about anything now." Willow strode out to their bedroom and returned with the feeldoe still in its packaging. "I don't believe I'm saying this. Even if I had... made you forget something like that, as a bisexual woman I can tell you that you'd be left with physical soreness. Believe me, if you'd had this inside you, you'd know about it afterwards." Tara grimaced in disgust. Willow tossed the sex toy onto their couch, pacing around and raking her hands through her red hair. "You want me to be honest... really honest? Yes, sometimes I do miss penetration, but that doesn't mean I'm going out and getting laid. Sometimes I'll notice a guy or a girl and think they're hot, but it's just a passing thought. I'm with you and you're all I want. I don't care that you weren't interested in the feeldoe. Of course it would have been fun for me if you were, but it's not a big deal, it's not important to me. You're important to me. I only did what I did because I can't stand to lose you and now it looks like I'm losing you anyway. GOD!" Tara fetched a backpack and offered it to Willow. "I'm not enough for you. I've seen the way you look at guys and I saw the way you were hyped up about that thing." She gestured at the feeldoe. "I think you should go and have a long hard think about what you really want, because right now I just don't feel that you have any idea. I need some space and you're going to give it to me. Please just take some things and go." Willow stalked into their bedroom and flung some clothes into the bag, toiletries, make-up etc. She snatched up some of her magic books but again Tara frowned at her. "You need a break from magic, Willow. You need to really think about what you've done to me." "Magic is all I have left if I don't have you," Willow said. "What if you can't have both, Willow? What if regaining my trust means hanging up your powers?" Willow was visibly shocked, much more shocked than she had been when Tara had told her that she had realised her memories had been altered. She stepped towards Tara, her demeanour becoming apologetic, looking up at her through her lashes. "Look, I know you're upset and angry and you have every right to be but I swear Tara, I only ever altered your memory that one time. I made you forget about ten minutes of your life, ten minutes that we were fighting for. You're making this into a huge great deal but it was just one stupid little thing that I did. It never happened before and it will never happen again. I'm sorry I crossed that line and I'm sorry I hurt you but it was just one little mistake, a stupid error of judgement because I love you and I hate it when we fight." Willow was closer to Tara now, almost within touching distance. Tara saw straight through her girlfriend, saw that she didn't want to face up to what she'd done and wasn't prepared to stop practicing magic. For the first time in their years together, Willow watched in horror as Tara's pretty face twisted with rage and hate. "You don't get it at all do you!" She yelled. Despite being the stronger of the two witches, Willow was thrown backwards, hitting the wall and collapsing to the floor. The force of Tara's emotion was terrifying. Willow scrambled to her feet and stepped towards her again. "Tara don't... stop this!" "I didn't start this!" Tara felt the power welling within her and she screamed, all the heartache and anguish ripping from her lungs. Willow ricocheted off of the wall and landed at Tara's feet, unconscious. Tara touched her cheek but there were no tears there. Willow had made her feel violated. Willow desperately wanted to be violated. Tara was angry enough to grant her wish. A short while later, Tara was stirring a pot on the stove, humming to herself. Spike's peroxide blonde head appeared in her open kitchen window, inhaling deeply. The potion gave out a vampire-maddening scent of 'ripe female virgin' and Tara had used her own hair, since she still had her hymen.

Spike had smelled the potion, but was almost insulted by Glinda thinking he was that easy. Spike was admittedly young, but with two slayers under his belt, he was "Smarter than your average vampire." However, he was happy to let the blonde explain her plan. Soon, he was carrying Red to his crypt. He could smell the anger coming off of Glinda and it was turning him on. Reaching his crypt, he moved the door and bar into place. Putting Red on the bed, he pulled out several silk ropes. Smirking at Glinda, he said, "Normal ropes would let her cut her own wrists; a girl did that in Prague once. Dru danced in it like a kid and a Sprinkler." Nodding, he said, "I don't think Red would go that far, but better safe than sorry, ya know?" The red ropes were coiled from silk strong enough to hold a slayer, gentle enough it would take hours of working them to make your wrists start to look raw. Twice as long before you drew blood, and even longer to actually draw enough to kill yourself. Spike moved around the crypt, lighting several candles. He could sense Willow was close to consciousness, so he held out his hand for Tera's thong gag. Taking the item, he gagged Willow effectively. Before ripping off her clothes. Her arms and legs tied nice and wide, he moved back. Letting the witch awaken. After about a minute, he said, "You awake, Red? That good. I'm glad Glinda checked you out, made sure you didn't have a concussion." Sitting on the bed, he let his cool hands ghost over Willow's stomach, to her right nipple. His right middle finger circled it while he said, "Red, you really screwed up this time. Glinda is PISSED. She wants you to be hurt, to suffer." He leaned down closer but still loud enough for Tara to hear him, "However theirs just one little thing she forgot." Reaching Willow's ear, he whispered simply, "To hurt you Scoobies, you have to hurt the ones you love." Spike smirked knowing that Tara had heard him. Knowing that she would try to warn her lover, but the gag was put in place too well. He stood up slowly, before moving too quickly behind Tara. His lips against her ear, he said softly, "Silly Glinda, you forgot, I am, were, and always will be the BIG bad." With that, he bit into her neck, enjoying the convulsions. It was almost as if she was orgasming from the force of his bite. Her whole body shaking uncontrollably from his deep sucking of her blood. However, after thirty seconds, he pulled away. Ripping Tara's dress. He didn't want her catatonic or dead; he wanted her conscious, but too weak to fight. Sitting down, he tossed Tara's bra across the room. Smirking, he said, "Hell, Red, no wonder you went after the earth chick. Look at those big round titties! Tell me, Red, how did you fondle them last? Were you a rookie about it, clutching blindly in the dark? Or did you do it slow and sultry?" His hands groped Tara's breasts like you saw on dirty movies. His fingers rubbing them. His thumb allowing him to twist them gently before twisting them sharply. Smirking, he said, "Does Glinda like a bit of pain too?" He pinched Tara's nipples, twisting them a bit harder. The light of the candles was a bit twisted. Showing only Tara's nude body and Spike's hands. Spike's still present black clothes aided in this. Allowing Willow to only see her lover, barely able to stand with Spike's help, his hands playing with her chest.</s>

Several weeks had passed since the massive attack on New York City where the world was properly introduced to the premiere team of the world's greatest heroes. Many of these so-called Avengers had gone their separate paths since then, with several of them needing to both clean up personal matters along with cleaning up the destruction which had followed the alien invasion led by the superbeing known as Loki. One of those who were in need of some repairing of their own was the brilliant doctor known as Bruce Banner. Or, perhaps more famously at this point, recognized the world over by his once thought unfathomable alter ego of the Hulk. Deep within the jungles of Brazil, an isolated hut stood, with a dim light seeping out from the corners of the hastily put together door and the open window from one side of its four corners. Bruce had been here for a few weeks now, with little else than his notes and research to keep himself busy as the brilliant mind worked diligently on the gamma radiation related reports afforded to him by Fury following his assistance with the Avengers Initiative. The often elusive doctor, whom was currently hunched over a table while reading over the reports for the dozenth time, had for the longest time sought out a way of either ridding himself or at least further controlling the beast which raged within his body. This was nothing new for those who had kept tabs on him in the past. What none of the others had known at this point, however, was how things had changed within him following the manipulation mindjob done to Dr. Banner by Loki himself. Where once Bruce had seemingly gained a semblance of control over his 'other half' over the past few months prior to Fury making the call for his help, Loki had undone much of it within a few days time. Bruce could feel the incredible green behemoth knocking about within his head. The feel of the Hulk in there was stronger than it had been in a long while. Only now it was strangely... different. Where anger had once been the lone potential trigger for releasing the beast within, Dr. Banner had noticed a similar warning reaction within occasionally set itself off due to other stimuli. Excessive exercise being the main one which he'd noticed, but there were other... rather embarrassing stimulations which seemed to have a similar effect. And it was the effort to find a scientific way of correcting this apparent imbalance which had driven the lab coat wearing young man, as the late night dragged on with Bruce taking a moment to adjust his glasses while looking over the paperwork by the lamplight. While indeed secluded out here in the jungle, Bruce wasn't necessarily completely cut off from humanity - however much the reclusive male may wish to be at times. There were a number of communication devices which were rarely used but had a place in one corner of the fairly large hut. Amongst them, buried beneath a few crumbled up and discarded notes of paper, was a specific tracker used for in the event of an Avengers emergency. The tracking device remained silent, yet glowed with a seemingly unnoticed red light - indicating its current usage and the now likely event of Dr. Banner having an unexpected guest very shortly.

While most of the Avengers had either gone back to their regular lives or retreated to some remote part of the world to do whatever it was that they needed to do in seclusion after the battle against Loki and his Chitauri legion, the Black Widow had carried on with business as usual. Most of her assignments since then had been run-of-the-mill intel gathering, sabotage runs and assassinations targeted at some of the most dangerous and volatile terrorist organizations on the planet. The last one had been quite different, however. While Natasha had been trying to gather up info on the leaders of the Hammer of Retribution - who were currently considered as one of the highest global threats by SHIELD - she'd managed to sneak into a hidden lab which contained much more than just plans for chemical weapons. She'd read the Bruce Banner and Steve Roger files enough times to recognize a supersoldier formula when she saw one, and luckily had managed to hack the lab's database and download a copy before being compromised and having to flee, leaving a trail of bodies behind. That had all gone down in Bolivia which was where the Hammer's home base of operations was, and - coincidentally - Dr. Banner happened to be right next door in Brazil as Natasha found out when she activated his tracking beacon. Since he was by far the leading authority on Earth when it came to such matters, the Widow wasted no time in getting on the nearest SHIELD helicopter and being flown over to meet him. Banner might have heard the helicopter's rotors as it hovered briefly near his little makeshift home and lab just long enough for Natasha to be lowered down from a rope before flying away again. If she'd wanted to surprise him like she'd done during their first meeting, that obviously wouldn't have been her approach, but that was obviously unnecessary this time around. By the time that she'd made it to his hut, there were already a few beads of sweat visible on Natasha's brow from the short walk through the jungle which happened to be blisteringly hot and humid. A few strands of her eye catching coppery hair (which she'd grown out since the incident in New York so that it was a few inches past shoulder length now) were matted against her forehead, hear heartbeat was slightly and her breathing was noticeably heavier than usual, but overall that wasn't so bad considering that even an average athlete would have been exhausted by that point. She reflected that perhaps her black SHIELD catsuit might now have been the most appropriate choice of attire in these conditions, her skin feeling a bit clammy underneath, but then again she hadn't been expecting to stay very long either. "Quite the...cozy little place you've got here, doctor," Natasha said as she opened the hut door and stepped inside, the hint of an amused smile lingering upon her glossy pink lips afterwards. "I hope this isn't a bad time."</s>

Chaos had descended upon the happy shoppers of the newly opened supermall, located near the center of the city. It wasn't due to the sale of new designer high heels in the second-story shoe shop that caused the commotion. Reports of strange activity within the large three-story shopping center had been surfacing since its grand opening earlier in the month. No one could explain these occurrences away without pointing the finger at the rebellious youth of today and their lack of moral decency, thanks to bad parenting and the internet causing a decline in social standards. The sudden raising of women's skirts as they made their way through areas with no apparent drafts of wind was an issue, as well as the occasional groping of busty customers by either phantom hands or even male patrons who claimed to have blacked out only moments prior. There was also that incident involving a threeway between a middle-aged couple and a seemingly traumatized yet oddly satisfied store clerk. And let's not forget what some of the female customers were doing with the ketchup bottles before pleading ignorance to their actions, even after being shown the security camera footage. Okay, so maybe they weren't exactly normal incidents, but they certainly weren't completely above a good PR spin to put a positive face on them. Unfortunately, not even the greatest of public relations could hope to cover up what was happening now. The chaos of the moment was seemingly punctuated by the almost piercing scream of a woman who could be seen racing down the aisles of the mall in her underwear while a mixture of ghostly figures and human males with strangely glowing eyes gave chase - ripped skirt in hand and with rather clear intentions in their almost comically twisted features. She wasn't alone in her shock and terror, as numerous customers of both male and female persuasion were seen trying to fend off possessed humans and ghosts alike. There were women running from men and apparition. Men trying to defend their wives and dates. Not to mention a few pimply faced teens who were being chased by a number of evidently possessed toys - with their greatest horror seemingly being due more to said toys being taken out of their mint boxes, rather than the possessions themselves. "Sinners!" Shouted a light-complexioned, dark-haired male in his mid-twenties who was dressed as a priest and stood near the center of this madness while perched upon a bench - an opened bible in hand as he further scolded, "You see now what your life of sin, debauchery, and greed has brought down upon you? This is your time of judgment! This is the final fate of your immortal souls! This... well, this is just a shitty time for most of you in general." A snicker escaped the male's lips after that final bit; his lips curving into a sly little smirk as the head ghost which resided within took a moment to survey his handiwork. If one were to peak down at the bible in his hand, they would find little else but mostly blank pages - save for the occasional dirty scribble jotted down in his free time as the possessed male reflected, "A guy could get used to this whole wrath and judgment crap."

The massive glass entryway to the mall's lower floor exploded as the infamous pink SUV of Daten city known to most as "See Through" utterly destroyed everything in its path. The vehicle powered through everything in its path; people darted out of its way almost in more fear for their lives than their nether regions at this point. "Stopping, ejected me at the food court!" shouted the blonde passenger, standing in her seat and removing her g-string. "These cunts are scaring away all the hot ass here." "Christ Panty, you can't stop thinking about sex for like, five seconds can you?" replied the gothic driver. "Sure I can," said Panty, "1...2...3...4...5, there I did it now hurry up, I have a hot date tonight and I don't wanna be covered in ghost guts this time." Within Panty's hands, the undergarment from which her name derived was magically transformed into a holy Desert Eagle that gleamed with an ethereal aura. "Gladly, I don't want herpes all over the seat," Stocking slammed her Mary Jane stiletto hard into the brakes and down shifted until she skidded to a stop. Panty was, as demanded, ejected into the air two stories up. Panty glided with grace and determination despite the high octane speeds. She cocked her weapon and began her rapid decline. Beneath Panty, a devilish looking ghost hovered above a possessed human, marionette guides in his hands as if he were controlling a puppet. It cackled maniacally before sensing the angel's presence. It looked up to see the muzzle of the glowing gun inches away from his yellow eyes. She shouted her "holy" quote of judgement. "REPENT, MOTHER FUCKER." The gun was practically touching his eye when she pulled the trigger, the spirit bullet firing through his eye and hollowing out his skull. The gun's muzzle pushed fully into his open wound and was carried with Panty down to the ground, landing with a heavy thud that cracked the flooring. Panty grabbed the ghost's dissipating shoulder, keeping him bound to the mortal realm for a while longer and ran with him, using him as a fleshy, riot shield. The back of his skull flashed repeatedly, every shot fired blowing massive chunks of flesh and bone from the ghosts that surrounded her. By the time most could react half of the specters could react, the other half was already shot down, their ethereal bodies obliterated by Panty's holy ammunition. Behind her, Stocking jumped off See Through and pulled off one of her stockings. The thigh high garment transformed into a long sabre and was quickly being slashed through the air, decapitating all the dazed ghosts her sister had missed or ignored with her fire-arm. As quickly as they arrived, the Anarchy sisters had utterly annihilated all resistance, standing triumphantly in the mall centre, the wind of their fast arrival finally catching up, blowing their short dresses in between their milky thighs and revealing their own nether-regions to the daemon who had afflicted such chaos upon these innocent people.</s>

As Admiral Zhao held the captive Tui in his clutches, the moon became an angry red, cutting away the power of the Waterbenders from their sole source. Aang, Sokka, Katara, Yue and the others approached him and demanded that he put the spirit back into the oasis. Iroh, who was devoted to the Four Nations staying separate than being united under the Fire Nation's reign, was more infuriated with Zhao's cruelty. "Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold! Let it go now!" He demanded of Zhao. Zhao forcefully obliged and released the Moon Spirit back into the oasis, restoring the red moon to its original white. But then, in a fit of rage, unleashed a streak of fire at the oasis. But at the same time, the only living Airbender, out of reflex, intervened, and sent a kick of air at the Firebending Master and his flames, sending him into the water and putting him out, saving the spirits from being cooked. Katara got near Zhao and his soldiers, who were also knocked into the water, and froze them in ice, preventing them from Firebending. "You might've stopped me, but you can't stop the fleet," Zhao told them. "You're as good as dead." Then, Aang, with his tattoos glowing brightly, uttered, with the voice of his past lives, "No. We are not dead. Not yet." Wading into the oasis, as though he were driven by the desire to protect the Northern Water Tribe in any way he knew was possible, and the Avatar State was the answer. The Moon and Ocean Spirits glowed and sunk into the water's deep darkness along with Aang, who followed them. The waters of the oasis and the pool surrounding it rose up into the air and created some sort of monster made of spiritually-enriched water, with the Avatar in a some sort of air bubble and the koi fish beneath it. It left to seek out any Fire Nation soldiers and when it did, the Water Tribe people would submit and be spared while the enemy was taken by the water until the creature came to the ocean where the fleet was located, trying to retreat. The water creature unleashed giant waves that capsized all but three ships that were too far away for the waves to hit, but the ones that were hit had their passengers trying to swim to safety on some metallic driftwood that came loose from the sunken ships. Soaked and unable to Firebend, the soldiers were at the mercy of the water beast, which sent more waves and washed them all far away from the tribe. The following day, with the spirits safely protected from the Firebenders (and with Zuko and Iroh disappearing from the tribe during the defeat of the navy fleet), Chief Arnook announced that the threat had passed and a time for rebuilding was to begin. Zhao and the few Firebenders that were with him would be taken back to the Fire Nation's waters and left to be dealt with. Master Pakku decided that he, along with a few Waterbenders, Healers and soldiers would journey to the Southern Water Tribe to help rebuild. "But Aang still needs to master Waterbending," Katara, whom had been informed, reminded him. "Well, then, I guess he'll have to start calling you 'Sifu Katara', then, hmm?" Pakku told him, declaring her a Master Waterbender. Aang, still a little dazed after what had happened last night, couldn't believe that he entered the Avatar State and defeated an entire navy fleet with the help of the Moon and Ocean Spirits and his own past lives, protecting the entire North Pole from sure destruction. As he looked down at the destroyed buildings that the war had made, he pondered how long the onslaught would continue until he had mastered all the elements and defeated Fire Lord Ozai. How much longer were people going to live in fear of the Fire Nation? How long until they lost their homes and the people they loved? And how long until they even lost their hope? Sokka, on the other hand, was packing up for the group before they set out to the Earth Kingdom in order for Aang to learn Earthbending from Bumi, the only Master Earthbender they knew and trusted. While feeding Appa some hay. Much was on his mind as the young warrior thought about a certain princess.

3:26, AM Water splashes over Ua's face as the sun melts the ice above her head. The fire, smoke, ash and flames from the night before left the air very hot and ash piled up on her roof. The combination of heat and the extreme weight of the ash causes an expanding hole. Ash falls out from the hole in her roof and covers Ua's face with soot, she coughs twice and goes to her sink. Ua flicks her wrist and water splashes out, into the ice. Ua cups her hands and splashes the water over her face, the soot dripping off but the smell of it still lingering. "There are some disadvantages to living in the top floor," Ua thinks to herself. Ua quickly takes her orca-bone comb and glides it through her hair, occasionally dipping it into her water basin. Her hair drips wet. She decides to take a stroll out in the city. Rather than taking the stairs, Ua bends an ice slide from the river and spirals down it, her hair blowing in the wind. Once at the ground level, she notices that the snow is 50% ash. Taking a sip of the water, it tastes like lye and she quickly spits it out. Ua walks along the ash ridden icy sidewalks of the canal. Hoping nobody sees her, she slips into the Spiritual Oasis. This, being the only secluded space that she currently has, she takes advantage of it. She strips out of her gown, everything coming off, her DD tits bouncing out. She rolls around in the clean grass, just absorbing the nature. After playing in the grass for about ten minutes, Ua without thinking plunges into the Oasis. She swims with her other half and her opposite. When her and the white fish touch, a euphoria of being one sends shivers up her spine, after swimming in the nude and being cleaned, Ua hops out, rolls around in the grass, drying herself off before dressing herself again. Ua arrives back into her palace bedroom. She repairs the hole quickly and falls back asleep. Ua's maid gently wakes her up, teasingly stating "Your other boyfriend is packing up to leave." Ua jumps out of bed and dashes down the stairs and out the door, running along the icy sidewalk, she sees the figure of Appa in the distance. Running even faster, she makes it as she sees Sokka's hood up, as he packs up. Ua mimics a bird whistle, hoping for Sokka's attention.</s>

The war, what little there had been of it was essentially over. Just a few scant days ago Lord Voldemort had been bending his considerable will towards solving the problem that came from the connection that his own wand had to the cursed Boy Who Lived, fragments of old legends catching his attention and promising a potential solution to the issue but then news had come... it was as good as over now. Apparently Potter and two others had broken into the Ministry of Magic, a seemingly suicidal mission without a purpose but upon looking more closely Voldemort was able to see the point to it all... Delores Umbridge, pure blooded witch and generally unpleasant person even by his own twisted standards, had come into possession of a certain locket, a locket that was once again in the clutches of its rightful owner but more importantly, still intact with all its charms. But in his attempt to get his hands on it Potter had attracted some attention in a poorly thought out attempt to help free the people being questioned by the panels that the ministry had set up, wonderful how even without needing to rule in the open his will was being done so quickly by so many. They all lied to themselves about his return and yet were behaving in a way that would please him just because in their hearts they knew it was true... wizards and witches who might otherwise be considered good and noble people had swarmed over Potter and his friends, alarms were raised... and they were taken alive. And Voldemort had gone to them, in the Minister of Magics office he had been ready to kill a defenseless Potter once and for all when he caught a glimpse of something in his eyes, something he had never seen in their earlier clashes, the slightest hint of himself. An instant before he had lashed out with a killing curse he had realized what it meant, Potter was a living Horecrux, and if killed then it would only serve to further the young fools goals. Of course this had angered him, rage had flared and the curse had still flown but instead of using it on potter the young red headed wizard at his side had fallen dead in the flash of green. Potter and the witch had both howled in rage but Voldemort was beyond being able to enjoy their suffering, he had things to arrange. Potter had to die and soon but first the fragment of his soul would need to be removed and placed into another suitable container. And so Potter had been turned over to a dedicated crew of Death Eaters, who spirited him away to a location known only to themselves and Voldemort, where he would be kept alive, if only just, and out of reach of a wand that would allow him to escape in any way. The mudblood witch had been turned over to the Malfoys, who were instructed on what to do with her so that she might be an example of his plans for her kind. Then came several days of intensive research, which revealed that Potter wasn't the first human Horcrux, and there was a way to fix the problem - it involved corrupting an innocent with a connection to Potter, a connection that had to go both ways. Once he learned of this, a few questions gave him the perfect name: Ginny Weasley. It was not a name unfamiliar to him, though he had no memory of it; this young witch had encountered a certain diary of his when she was young, a fragment of him using her to cause havoc in the school where she resided. In his mind, along with the affection that she and Potter reportedly held for each other, made her perfect. Many didn't realize it about the Dark Lord, but despite his appearance, he was still very much a man, with all the urges and desires that came along with that. Normally, he satiated himself using Bellatrix, but she was nothing more than a living plaything to him - never worthy of any true attention or effort. But Ginny might offer something different to him... curiosity had been sparked, ideas had formed. He wanted to live forever and rule, but he never said he would be alone as he did it. Companionship was desired. And so he sent for Ginny, agents at Hogwarts ordered to have her brought to him right away, even as Belatrix worked her lips and tongue to bring him pleasure. The fact that he gave this order, even as Belatrix worked her lips and tongue to bring him pleasure meant nothing - she meant less than nothing to him. Now, less than an hour after the order was given, Voldemort sat back in an ornate throne, carved from the purest onyx and chased with jade and silver, Belatrix standing just behind him and ready to serve in any way he needed should he ask. He just wanted to have her there to torment her when the younger witch arrived. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and Nagani shifted at his feet, making her way across the room to roam through the rebuilt Riddle Manor at her leisure. Enter, he called out, his voice low but carrying clearly heard as the door slowly swung open and a clearly unhappy young lady was pushed into the room before the door slammed shut.

Ginny had been in the Gryffindor common room attempting to concentrate on some homework when Professor McGonagall swept in and fetched her. Within half an hour she was taken by side-along apparition to the burrow. McGonagall knew that Snape would never let Ginny return home as he was seeking every excuse to expel 'mudblood sympathisers' from Hogwarts. Ginny found her mother sobbing in her father's arms. Molly grabbed Ginny into a fierce hug and thanked McGonagall for bringing her. "Where is he?" Somehow in the face of her parents' grief, Ginny felt compelled to hold herself together. There was a total unreality to how she was feeling and only seeing her brother for herself would make his death real. "Kitchen." Was all Molly could stammer. On the long scrubbed wooden table that dominated the Burrow's kitchen, Ginny found her brother laid out beneath a sheet. She twitched away the fabric covering his face and was appalled by how peaceful he looked. She brushed a few stray hairs from his face and then the tears came. They were tears for her brother but more deeply and worse than that, they were guilty tears of relief that her beloved Harry still lived. His whereabouts were as yet unknown but it wouldn't take the order long to track him down. "Kingsley Shacklebolt got him out... no idea how." Molly had followed Ginny into the room but the sight of her son obviously distressed her, for she immediately drew the sheet back into place. "We'll bury him at first light and then Minerva will get you back to school before you're missed." "No." Ginny's faced her mother determinedly. "I'm not going back there. Harry needs me." "Don't be ridiculous, you're not of age and-" "And what!? I'm as capable a wizard as Ron was. I've faced Voldemort first hand. I've been possessed by him and survived. I've started a resistance movement inside Hogwarts under Snape's bulbous nose. I refuse to sit around learning how to torture muggles while Harry and Hermione risk their lives!" Molly was speechless. "Indoctrinate me into the order," Ginny pleaded. "Sign me up. If I don't go to him and something happens to Harry, I won't be able to live with myself. And if I can't go with your blessing, well then-" "You're my youngest daughter," Molly said, distraught. "You stand the least chance of coming back to us alive." McGonagall cut in. "Flitwick was keeping an eye out for you, and I just received a message from his patronus." "I'm not going," Ginny insisted. "You are going," McGonagall informed her. "If a student from my house vanishes under my nose, Snape will sack me, and then how will I protect my students? Harry and Hermione are highly capable wizards. The best thing you can do for that boy is keep yourself out of harm's way. He's grieved enough already." Ginny allowed herself to be taken back to school but stalked from the common room to her dormitory in a foul temper. Blinded by tears, Ginny stripped off clothing as she went. She poked her head through the curtains around her four poster bed, looking for her pyjamas. The voice was a mere whisper. "Petrificus totalis." Ginny's half-clad body was suddenly bound up and she landed on the Death Eater in her bed - none other than 'Professor' Amycus Carrow - who had swiftly suspended her form in mid air. The next thing Ginny was conscious of, she was being levitated through an ornate door and deposited on the floor. She wore her knickers, bra, and a half-open blouse, much to her mortification. When Voldemort's hideous visage came into view, she was angry but unsurprised. Who else would consider her worth such an elaborate kidnap? Part of her was actually pleased. Perhaps an opportunity would arise to avenge her brother. Amycus had her wand at present. Amycus tossed Ginny's wand and Voldemort caught it, then he exited and left her alone with the self-styled 'dark lord.' Although perhaps not quite alone. Ginny thought that she could hear the breathing and slight movement of more than one person.</s>

For Draco, his fifth year at Hogwarts was proving to be a rather special one by any standard at all. So far, old Mudblood lover Dumbledore had been removed from the school and replaced by Delores Umbridge, who, to be fair, Draco couldn't stand in the least, but she had appointed him to the Inquisitorial Squad, giving him plenty of power to abuse and enjoy. Not only were Slytherin far ahead in terms of House Points, they also were pretty much unopposed on the Quidditch teams, in fact, they were the first team allowed to reform, giving them an advantage when it came to practice time. But right now, he was about to enjoy another spectacular perk of being not only a member of the Inquisitorial Squad but also the perk of being a Malfoy. Recently, Cho Chang had gotten herself into a bit of trouble; she was suspected of being a part of that tedious DA group formed by Potter and trying to undermine the authority of the Ministry, at least that was the official story about why they were banned. However, Draco suggested that Umbridge could see the changes that would soon be coming and wanted to ensure that she was on the right side of the coming conflict - being a friend of Mudbloods would soon be a rather poor position to find oneself in. Of course, Cho's mother was trying to protect her, having a mid-level job in the Ministry and subordinate through a few levels to Umbridge, but more importantly because she worked for the ministry, she was someone who had to listen to Lucius Malfoy. And Madam Chang's daughter had to be taught a lesson, which Lucius Malfoy was very fond of doing by proxy, and Draco was more than willing to take advantage of the set up there. From what Madam Chang had been told, she was to go to Hogwarts to tutor Draco, which was to be kept quiet because no one else was to know that a Malfoy might need a little help. But in truth, there was more to it. She was there to be a test subject for him, working on a new potion derived from the standard love potion but modified, an experiment that he had hopes to use to undermine Potter, since striking out at the boy who lived didn't seem to work when you struck directly. He would hurt him through others, and this potion was only the newest idea that he had, with a vial of the final product ready for testing, in the pocket of his robes as he made his way through the dungeon and too the class that he had been told that Madam Chang would be waiting for him in. He knew he was running late, but it hardly mattered; he was a Malfoy, and soon Madam Chang would be no one...

Madam Chang was fidgeting in the "official robes of a tutor" as the new edition of the "Clothes and Doodads of Professions" described her new robe. She was inspected by no other than Dolores Umbridge when she arrived in the school, her everyday robes left behind. The thirty-something mid-level official knew that she was punished, when only her silk underwear was left on her, and the black silk robe really wasn't that much protection against the slight cold of the dungeons. Hidden in a classroom under the kitchen, accessible by a secret door from the Great Hall of all things, Madam Chang - for it was her surname, just like her daughters, as both came from the family of Cho - tried to gather her wits about the studies of the fifth years. Knowing well that she would have to tutor Draco to the mark Lucius Malfoy would see as adequate, the Chinese MILF was restless, playing with her braided long hair. For anybody she looked like her daughter Cho Chang, just twenty years older and her hair twice as long, the braided tresses just reaching under her robe covered ass, cut to the length where she was not sitting on it... Of course unbraided even her asscheeks would be covered by it, but that was one thing nobody had seen outside her bedroom...</s>

It was an afternoon like any other, with the sun shining down with brilliance, the wind blew from the west and swirled the leaves in the athletic field about Hitomi's ankles while her eyes were fixed firmly upon the line in front of herself. "Come on!" she called to her students with a genuine smile, her legs spread wide as she sat on her rear before them and her arms out in front of herself, demonstrating how the exercise should be done. She could tell that a few of the boys were paying more attention to see if her hands or her breasts would touch the ground first, but in all honesty she didn't mind what they were staring at as long as they showed better results. "Looking is fine, but don't get carried away!" "Reach forward with both your arms, relax your back and shoulders and stretch with your stomach muscles!" she ordered, leaning forward just a tiny bit further. Then, she quickly pulled back and leapt to her feet. "Alright, thats enough. Lets do some jumping jacks drills then we can start our normal routine," she said with authority. Everyone jumped in line without hesitation and began to jump in unison... Well, most of them did, anyway. Indeed, it felt like just another ordinary day... But there was some other force at work that day, and as it slowly approached the school gates, the prospect of ever returning to the same lives that they knew and loved grew thinner and thinner... As Hitomi-sensei sent her students to run a few laps around the track, the math teacher, Akio-sensei, approached her. "Um, I'm sorry to disturb your class," the usually forward teacher seemed strangely timid, "but you know martial arts, correct?" "What now?" Hitomi replied in a slightly irked tone, not liking to be disturbed when she was in the middle of a drill. "It's not Souji again, is it?" Akio sighed. "Um, no, I don't think so," he continued. "There appears to be a bit of a disturbance at the west gate. It has several of the teachers worried since we already had a few people check on it but they haven't returned... Some of the students are getting worried." "Its probably just another would-be gang or something," Hitomi yawned, "Sure, I'll go lay out some thugs for you, but just hold things down here while I'm gone." She waved to her class in order to let them know she would be right back, and they returned the wave as she turned to leave. As Hitomi approached the west gate, what she thought was just a group of students and a few people not wearing school uniforms huddled about in a small group looking down at something, standing strangely still. She nearly laughed, as there didn't seem to be anything particularly odd about the situation, although she did feel a strange cold chill down her left side which she simply chose to ignore. "Excuse me, you are being a nuisance and causing quite a stir here," Hitomi called out to them. "Could you kindly break things up? Classes are in session, so head back to your respective classes before I have to get serious." The group all slowly turned in unison, the few patches of fresh blood staining their shirts being the first thing she noticed. "Oi... this is..." Their wide, soulless white eyes and cocked heads looked up at hers, not making eye contact but gleaming about like soiled pearls stuck in into their haggard, bloody faces. They stepped toward her, mouths gaping and snapping. Hitomi raised her hands up to her chest in terror... and let out a blood-curdling scream.

Souji rested in the school's rooftop, under the bright blue sky he always admired. Every time he was up there, he wished he was a cloud, drifting slowly and lazily through the sky without any worries. He took many naps out there because it gave him that impression. That he could just drift lazily through his life without a care. It was an illusion, of course, and he knew it, but sometimes it was just better to hold onto those little things that made him happy. At least for today he had managed to stay out of trouble, which was a good thing for a change. Spending the morning sleeping away was probably the reason he managed it. Even for him it was impossible to get into trouble while sleeping. He could hear some students exercising in the yard and almost laughed at them. Poor bastards, sweating in the sun, while he could just nap on the cool breeze. He pretty much enjoyed playing hooky, and was glad no teacher would bother with a seemingly lost cause as himself. He could also hear the voice of Marasaki-sensei barking orders and he could almost picture her in his mind, showing everyone how to do each one of the exercises. Naked. 'Wait a moment, why would she do that naked?' he berated himself, with a sigh, blushing slightly. Moreover, he would hate for everyone else to be able to see her like that, so why was he imagining it? As if her dumb fiancee wasn't enough... Thinking about it made his blood boil and suddenly he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. He sat, yawned heavily while stretching his body, before getting up and proceeding to the outside stairs. He was halfway down the stairs when he suddenly heard her scream. It was so fearful and scared he almost didn't recognize her voice. 'What the hell?' was the only thought on his mind as he sped up, jumping the steps four at a time as he ran down. He could see her by the front gate, and some strangers, clearly not students, closed in on her, walking in a rather stumbling and clumsy way. For some reason their approach did not seem normal. It had a certain aura of menace in it, even though it wasn't aggressive. He finally reached the ground and ran to her. - "Sensei! Marasaki-sensei! Are you ok?" - he asked, a hint of fear in his voice, while he failed to maintain his all bad boy attitude. He got close to her, and finally paid attention to the strangers that stumbled their way close to them, soulless white eyes, bloody faces and a terrifying aura. - "Wha-What the fuck?!" - he took a step behind in fear. What the hell was wrong with those people? He felt his knees tremble from shock and fear, but gladly they held him up. He took a deep breath, and a second to calm himself down, before taking a step forward and coming between his teacher and the group, pointing at the closest one - "You! Don't move! I'm warning you! Don't get any closer!" - he tried to sound threatening but his voice came out slightly shook, and none of the strangers seemed to care. What the hell was happening there?</s>

England was such a beautiful place to be. Even in the wintertime, with the trees bare and mist coiling its fingers around anything it could, the only word that comes to mind is breathtaking. There was just a meager inch of snow on the ground, yet whenever a step was made it would crunch underfoot. In a few hours, it will all be gone, leaving just water in its place. Then the next morning there it will be again. A new blanket covering the earth, so that it was painted in black and white. It being this early it was almost freezing, but that was to be expected. High above the sky was threatening rain, rumbling and with lightning flashing every couple of seconds. For the most part, the streets were empty. There was just a few children still out and about, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing. Kagome smiled at one little girl, bending down to make a snowball. Her hair was the red of flames, crackling and practically burning under the weak sunshine. The dark green scarf she had around her neck began to unwrap, but she huffed and quickly fixed that. If she was to guess her age, it would have to be around eight or nine. I'm going to get you, Jimmy! the girl cried out, rolling the snow between her small hands to pack it together. Just you wait! I'm going to get you good! She hurried her efforts in making the snowball, little white bits crumpling from her hands to fall back to the ground. Yeah right! The boy cried back. Jimmy himself appeared to be a few years older, maybe ten or twelve. He himself was building up his arsenal, and had a pile of snowballs next to him. Like you're ever going to hit me, Amy! Your aim sucks! A huge gust of wind knocked the hat he had on, but luckily it only danced a few feet away before getting caught in a low branch. From there it waved, beckoning him to get it back. He went off to retrieve it, giving Amy an opportunity to make more ammo. It was fairly obvious that the two were brother and sister. In a way, the two reminded Kagome of herself and Souta when they were that age. They used to fight over everything, from who called shotgun first to who received the biggest piece of dessert. It went on for years. Of course, anything had to come to an end. Their little arguments ended when they just grew up and got tired of arguing all the time. So they came to a truce. Now she and he got along much better than they used to, and would even hang out once in a while. Kagome adjusted her coat against an icy breeze. Her black hair flew due to its force, waving like a banner. Pink was along her cheeks. Though she was simply dressed, she was a rather attractive woman of twenty-four years. In fact, those years have been very kind to her indeed. Back when she used to travel to the Feudal Era, she had already been a beautiful young woman in the making. It was only these last few years that everything really started to develop. Her hips were wide, legs long and nicely toned. Her breasts had also grown. Now a D-cup, the plump packages were twice the size they used to be. The scar Mistress Centipede left behind was faint and a light red, but it was still there nonetheless. However, where the Shikon no Tama remained to this day was a mystery. I wonder what InuYasha would think, seeing me now Her chocolate brown eyes rose up to the heavens, noticing how different hues of gray are fighting against one another. It had been years since she had last seen her favorite silver-haired hanyou. After Naraku was defeated by the combined efforts of everyone, they were together as a couple. However, with all the love in her heart for him, she didn't anticipate being with him to be so difficult. Now they weren't as they used to be. After the break-up, he went on to marry Kikyou, though they never did go down to the pits of hell together. Miroku and Sango married soon after. She couldn't see much of this happen. For some reason, the well yanked her back to her time once she and InuYasha broke ties as a couple, and now she was stuck here in the present. A rumble of thunder broke through her thoughts. First one drop hit her cheek, then another on her chin. Uh oh she murmured. I better find some shelter pretty quick The children squealed, dropping snowballs and abandoning the game in favor of going home. It wasn't much longer before the rain really began to pour. Quickly she hurried to the nearest establishment, going inside. Her coat was soaked, as well as her jeans, making the clothes plaster to her skin like they were a second layer. With a little grunt she shed the blue coat, water dripping off it. There weren't many people in the pub. Aside from the person behind the counter and another waiting tables, only three men haunted the room.

One of those men happened to be a knight, enjoying a simple but strong ale. Unlike the priests of their order, he was not limited by such silly rules like no beer or sex. His duty was a simple one, and as long as he kept in control, he was free to enjoy life. That was not to say, however, that he was allowed to run wild. He had a strict code of life nonetheless; he was allowed beer but only to the point before it affected his senses. He was not allowed to be with more than one woman at any one time, and he was to pledge his life to her, second to his duty or not at all. Currently, he had no interest in women, though this changed the moment Kagome walked in. His blue eyes took in her full curves, her wet soaked jeans sticking to her body. His heart skipped a beat, and he knew who she was. There was no denying the accuracy of the ancient tombs - She was the same girl, only now a woman, and he felt his face flush and his pants tighten a little as he stared at her. He quickly regained his thoughts, taking a heavy sip from his beer and then waving to her, patting the seat next to him and shouting to her. "Hey! Why don't you have a seat over here to dry off? Let me get you a drink!" He smiled to her. Bruce was five foot nine and as blue-eyed as a German could be. He spoke in a thick German accent but spoke English very well. He had lived there for over a decade now, training under many great knights before him. His hair was light brown, cut short as was the soldier's way. Still, it was enough for a girl to play with, if that was what she wanted.</s>

Tim Drake sat alone at the top of a Gotham skyscraper. Was he in his red and green Robin attire? No. Was he in his black and red redesign of the Robin suit? No. Thanks to a certain Damian Wayne, those suits will not see the light of day for quite a long time. His new suit, now under the identity as Red Robin, consists of a long-sleeved red tunic, along with black boots, tights, gauntlets with triangular fins for defense, cape and cowl (a homage to his now former mentor). It also includes a black-and-gold utility belt that carries his weaponry such as his bo staff (Tim's personal favorite) and throwing discs. He would admit that the suit is nothing new; Tim has been wearing a hero costume for a while now, and they all start to feel the same. But this one feels somewhat different. With the past suits, they were all connected by the simple R on the left side of his chest. He was taking over a position already filled by two other people. This suit was different; it was his own, no others before him have taken this title. He was now truly his own hero. With that thought, he got up from where he was sitting and looked over the city. It was time to make himself known. He stepped to the edge of the building and took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. After the exhale had ended, he took a small leap off of the roof. He plummeted toward the ground, the wind whipping around him as the cowl kept his hair from blowing all over the place. When he was a few meters from the ground, he gripped his cape. An electrical signal from his gloves went through the material in his cape and stiffened the spines in them, forming stiff wings. The wind caught in the pockets and Tim was able to pull out of his dive and into a speedy glide over the rooftops of Gotham. God, he loved being the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne; it had so many perks! After gliding for a while, he picked up on an alarm ringing on one of the streets. Tim looked up in the sky and saw no bat signal in the sky; Bruce wasn't out tonight. He decided this was a good time to let himself be known, start small and make them afraid of one of the new heroes in town... well, really an old one in a new costume but that was beside the point. He zoomed over to the roof opposite of the alarm and took a look at what he was up against. He saw that a group of five thugs or so were robbing an electronic store. This was going to be fun. He reached into one of his pouches and withdrew a throwing disk. He threw it at the alarm and silenced it, the red flood light from the alarm was broken and therefore shut off, leaving the store pitch black. This, of course, had the thugs startled and reaching for their guns. He launched himself into the store and tackled one of the thugs to the floor, knocking him out with a quick punch across the face. At this point, Tim was hunched over the thug, the cape covering the rest of the costume. The thugs had their guns drawn but they were shaking, saying, "Oh no, it's The Bat!" When Tim stood up straight and turned around, they stopped shaking. "What? It's not The Bat, just some punk kid wannabe!" Before any of them had the idea of actually shooting at him, Tim grabbed a pellet from his harness and threw it to the ground. When it hit, a large plume of smoke filled the room, and Tim went out of sight. They started panicking again and randomly shot into the smoke. Tim already being out of the smoke was able to pick them off one by one. When they were all taken care of, he had them all strung up by a light pole. It was a pretty good start to the night.

Vibrations from her cellphone made her stop the shower short and run into the small bedroom. There was only a name and an address with a X after "Death." Using the extra towel from the hotel room, Jade dried her long black hair and quickly pulled her briefcase from under the bed. She slipped on her dark green top that wrapped around her shoulders and down her arms. And her green gloves had long metal claws attached to them, they held their own surprise for her victims. She slid on green boy shorts that matched her outfit and knee-high green boots. Bending down, Jade pulled another briefcase out and smiled at the sight of her two Sai weapons. Flipping them in her hands, she attached them to the leather strap that crossed between her breasts all the way to her back. Opening up the text once more, she read the name, "Dr. Jones," 1345 Bently Street, Apartment 3B. Making a note in her mind of her destination, she snapped the flip phone in half and tossed it in the trash can. Her assistance was needed in ridding her boss of another pest. She opened her hotel window and let the breeze pass through her hair, sending shivers down her spine. Turning back towards the bed, she pulled a white cat mask from the case and strapped it to her face. The eyes were big and bright green while the grin it held was large and demented. Now that her mask was equipped, she crawled out of the window to the roof and did a scan of the night. It gave her the distance of her next target and Jade was on the move. Hopping from rooftop to rooftop, she moved quickly and with more stealth than a normal person. Eying the apartment building, Jade crawled down the building's wall and slipped in through the doctor's open kitchen window. She crept low to the ground as the darkness kept her concealed; she could hear his snoring in the opposite room. The green eyes on her mask glowed faintly as she did some investigating of the apartment. Finding nothing of use, she proceeded into the bedroom, pulling a sai from her back and gripping it tightly. "Nice to see you again, Jade," the voice was rough and deep. The body in the bed lifted and he held a gun pointed in her direction. "Cheshire to you..." she hissed softly as she took a step towards the doorway. She kept her calm and decided if she was going to run, it had to be now. Quickly turning her body, Cheshire ran for the apartment door, the sound of gunshots firing around her. She rolled to the ground and knocked through the exit door, climbing the stairs to the roof. The man followed after her, sending multiple shots her way as he climbed the stairway. Cheshire peeked over the ledge only to catch a bullet in her shoulder. She stumbled back into the wall. "Dammit..." she cursed, sliding to the step. She winced with pain and watched as he approached her, using her sai she flung it as hard as she could. Hearing the gunshots hit the ceiling, Cheshire crawled up the stairs to the roof. Breaking through the door, she felt the concrete under her hands. "Fuck." She muttered, leaning against the rooftop door. What was she going to do now?</s>

Beverly Hills, the place to be if you're looking to make it big. A big reason for people to move out to there, but that wasn't the reason for Tim Drake. He wasn't there for the glamor that was associated with the city. He was here to get further away from The Bat. Tim decided that it was best to do this to truly test the limits of his abilities. If he were ever to improve or prove himself, he had to get away from Bruce so that he could fight his battles alone rather than run away and call him for backup. Beverly Hills has seen its fair share of kooks and villains, so it would be a good fit for him. Though he couldn't just run around Beverly Hills in his suit all the time. School was the answer to that. Before he arrived, he enrolled in Beverly Hills High and today was his first day there. He woke up early in his standard fare apartment (a nice bonus thanks to his staple employer Wayne Enterprises) and got in his morning workout. It consisted of the standard workout equipment of dumb bells, bench press equipment, treadmill, etc. The workout finally ended with him practicing his martial arts on a wooden dummy. The dummy was made of smooth Mahogany wood and had various arms extending out to practice his positioning and flow between strikes. He saved this for last because he wanted to practice it while he was winded. If he was winded then he would have to focus harder on doing it right and committing these moves to muscle memory and pushing his limits further. When he was finished, he moved to the bathroom for a shower. After the shower, he saw that he was behind schedule and dashed to his bedroom to get clothes on. He quickly got dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a red V-neck T-shirt and made a dash for the front door while struggling to get his shoes on. He grabbed a protein bar on the way out the door and jogged to his car, catching up to his schedule. He slid into the front seat of the red sports car (a little parting gift from the Wayne Manor garage) and checked himself in the mirror, his blue eyes shining back against his black hair. He smoothed his hair down and figured it was good enough for a first day. He then turned the car on and put it in gear to drive off to school. Upon arrival at the school, he parked in the student lot and grabbed his things out of the trunk. He made sure that his Robin gear was easily accessible yet hidden from plain sight in his car. With everything ready, he took a confident step forward toward campus, eyes constantly swiveling as the myriad of pretty girls crossed his path. "Ah, Beverly Hills! This might not be a bad first day after all," he said to himself with a smirk.

Freshman year for the girls is the hubris, the beginning of cat suits, fresh starts on school and secret agent stuff. The girls will be getting their first Charlie's Angel getup this day, and they were very excited to test their youthful strength and wit. But before that, they still must live anonymously and mingle in the civilian life. Clover along with Sam and Alex proceed to their designated classroom, all three of them are already doing daydreams on doing spy things as they wait for the teacher to come. Clover wears her simple strapless pink tank top covered with a white jacket and red slacks and red sandals. Meanwhile, as Clover was daydreaming, her attention was caught by the mysterious-looking guy in a red V-neck shirt who just entered the room. He seems to have a cool and studious personality mixed with a serious bad-ass sort. As she keeps on looking at him, their eyes meet, but Clover quickly averts her gaze and blushes a little, and then acts like nothing happened. Sam and Alex, however, didn't seem to notice what Clover just saw. She feels uneasy and excited about this guy's vibrant presence. Clover can't collect herself at the moment.</s>

Sora walked through the street of the city, always seeming so busy with people bumping into each other. Yet, as she held her seeing cane out, she could sense how the people avoided her like the plague. She didn't care; it wasn't something new, so she just went on like normal. Her cane tapped around like a normal blind woman would do, yet in truth, she didn't need the cane. Her electrical senses helped her see around her. No one would be able to see or sense her power when she used it like this, but it didn't mean it wasn't there. A low-power electrical current surrounded her form, allowing her to have a sonar-like sense of what was around her. It wasn't limited to just people, and she controlled the range of it so as not to attract attention. As she moved through the streets, she noticed how a group kept coming in and out of her range, not sure if they were just heading her way or following her. Decided to test it, she started towards a rougher side of the city, knowing how few go there unless for trouble. Moving closer to her destination, she easily could feel how the group of five were following even closer than before. Didn't look well in her mind, so already she was preparing for when they pounced. She was sure it wouldn't be long, as the streets were becoming empty now. Most would avoid this area during the day, but everyone did at night because there were so many murders that seemed to occur here. Two males jumped out in front of her no more than four feet in front of her, the last three came up behind her about the same distance away. Her grip on her cane changed completely as she stood waiting for the first move. "What is such a poor blind girl doing in this part of town?" one asked behind her as he started to walk closer to her, soon he was next to her grabbing hold of her sunglasses pulling them off only to see her normal looking eyes turning to look right at him, he flinched under her gaze as it truly looked like she could see him. "Bitch stop looking at me like that!" he said, hand coming up to smack her only she brought her cane up to block. With that move, one of the males in front of her reacted quickly to kick her in the chest, yet her hand grabbed hold of the foot. "I thought she was blind?!" shouted one of the males behind her as she quickly moved her body to toss the two in her reach away. As the two hit the ground, the other three went into attack mood as she again kept on the defense. They were quick and had her straining not to use her powers as she didn't want to expose herself too much. Only when she felt the familiar tingle of water on the edge of her range did she risk it any longer, coursing electricity through her body sending it into overdrive as she threw two more away as the first two from before quickly took their place. She felt them pushing her back towards the river, which wasn't good, but with her mind worrying on the water, she left herself open as she was kicked back into a wall with a sickening thud, sliding down it she quickly surrounded herself with electricity, causing her to be surrounded with sparks. It gave her a nice defense while she struggled to get up.

Thomas smirked as he watched. A voice called out, "Not bad girlie, but electricity doesn't work against their type." The vampires moved together; they had heard of a hunter, but they weren't scared of some flesh bag. Two of them pulled guns while the other two pulled knives. The voice spoke again, "See, electricity works on living people because of our own bio-electric energy brains, hearts, internal muscles, undead, they don't have any of that, nope, but a powerful enough surge can screw up their insides being fried still hurts." One of the vampires snarled, "Fuck you Devil're Fear! You fuck with us and our boss will make you eat your testicles!" The voice laughed, and said, "Oh really? I've faced worse than a few vampires, let's test that theory." The blind woman would hear a scream and the sound of breaking bones. The darkness itself reached up with claws, forcing the men onto their knees. Their heads bowed. "Devil're Fear" landed having jumped from a nearby roof. Taking a deep breath, he blew dark blue flames with a purple center. The vampires howl filled the night air, but in less than ten seconds only boiling asphalt was left. Thomas smirked as his body glowed. His skin turned from red with rocky scales to pale and white. The teenager himself was a fine physical specimen. 7 foot nothing dirty blond hair brushed back and kept in a simple ponytail. He wore an ankle length duster with both sleeves rolled up. Back gloves, fingerless after the second knuckle combat boots and BDU's. Looking at the woman, he asked, "You okay beautiful?"</s>

So much fighting, so much loss, so much... darkness. It had almost seemed like the end to the Corps and all life as they knew it, but miraculously they had prevailed against the blackness that was Nekron and his massive Black Lantern Corps. For Kyle Rayner, this wasn't his first rodeo; he had even died for about five minutes. He had felt a complete blackness envelope him as the Alpha Battery exploded. It was a peaceful serenity that Kyle had never felt before, but he knew better. He may have defeated those Black Lanterns that were caught in his construct, but there were millions upon millions of others out there that his friends and loved ones had to fight and he hated that he was out of the fight. Luckily Sora, his current lover, was there to try and bring him back, but it proved fruitless, he was gone. Though all hope was not lost, Star Sapphire Miri was there to bring him back by using the love he and Soranik had and boy was that a massive relief. After that, he gathered the rest of the Corps members and headed for home, Earth, to finish the fight. Now all the remaining members of the Green Lantern Corps stood on the planet Lantern Mogo for a special memorial service for the fallen. The large tree swayed in the wind, its dark bark groaning as it twisted and turned. Kyle averted his eyes up to focus on the emerald leaves that sprouted from each branch, portraits of every dead lantern were emblazoned upon them. He recognized many of them: Jack T. Chance, Ke'Hann, Laira, Bzzd, Tomar Re, Katama Tui (for John, who couldn't be there since he was back with Hal trying to rebuild), all good Lanterns and all damn good people. He listened intently as Moro the Crypt Keeper explained this new memorial. He let a small smile crawl across his face as he realized that now no Lantern would be forgotten, but that smiled paled in comparison to the one that he let beam as the thousands of emerald rings flew from Mogo to their respected sectors to find new recruits. In those he saw life, while the previous bearers would never be forgotten, those new rookies would soon come and fill their predecessors shoes, maybe even become greater than the previous wielders. Though before greatness can be made he knew hat they would have to put in long hours of work to master the rings abilities and no doubt a few visits to the woman that stood next to him. Upon thinking of her he turned his head to see the perfect ruby red skin, the only imperfection being the triangular birthmark under her left eye. Dr. Soranik Natu was his current girlfriend, but that may become strained since the Guardians had issued the third new law. One that made physical relationships between lanterns forbidden. He was sad to think that they could no longer be together because of a bunch of smurfs idea that relationships would hinder the Corps. Not wanting it to come to that he would be willing to sacrifice his ring just to be with her and he was sure she would do the same, but he would insist that it would be him who gave up the ring. The Corps needed a strong member like her, he was just some artist that was in the right place at the right time.... After the ceremony, he, his best friend Guy Gardner, and Lantern Arisa, went to pay the Guardians a little piece of their minds. They burst through the citadel doors, unannounced, and they all gave the Guardians their two cents about how they were running things. Kyle himself delivered a speech that Guy claimed, "Could have made all of the world cry." After that, he and Guy went to find what happened to Guy's bar, Warriors, to see what fate became of it. Unfortunately, they found it reduced to rubble, Guy shed a tear or two over it, and Kyle was there to try and cheer him up. As they began to clean the place up, a decree went out on all of the Green Lantern rings, "Attention all Lanterns. The third law stating that physical relationship and love between members of the Green Lantern Corps is forbidden has, from this moment forth, been repealed." It repeated itself twice more before disappearing. Kyle looked over Guy who was chuckling a little. "Whaddya know, the Blue Meanies still got some heart left in em' after all." Kyle couldn't help but smile at that. "Speaking of hearts," Kyle responded, "I'm sure there's a doctor 'friend' of mine smiling right about now." He felt a warm feeling grow in his belly thinking of Sora being in the middle of a surgery and having a smile under her mask as her ring told her some of the best news one could hear right about now... It had been a couple of months since the Blackest Night Crisis and things were starting to return to normal, well for everyone except for Kyle. It turned out that his apartment on Earth was leveled and he had no place to stay. So Sora came in and saved the day telling him that he could move in with her on Korugar. He greatfully accepted and that's where he was at the moment. At Sora's, in bed with her, asleep, though to Kyle it was more like tossing and turning. This night he was being plagued with nightmares, Black Lanterns were everywhere and they were closing in on him and Sora. They finally came close enough and nabbed Sora away from him and engulfed her into their ranks. Kyle fought through them to only find that they had turned her into one of them and she raised her ring to kill him. Before her fatal blow struck himmin the chest his eyes snapped open and he gasped. He bolted upright from the bed and he found himself gasping for air. He could feel his heart ram into his chest. He placed his right hand over his heart to feel the pounding and he found his ring was enjoying an ancient glow, it seemed that his mind raced to make a construct to try and fend off the specters of his nightmares. He took deep breaths and he turned his head to see if he had awoken Soranik, another or not he did he could not tell since her back was turned to him. He ran his hands through his charcoal hair trying to get a grip, "It was just a dream... only a dream," he continually muttered to himself. Once he felt as if he was calm he eased back down onto the bed and tried to fall asleep again.

Soranik sometimes thought about the past. And sometimes about the future. You see, a simple action could change so much. She loved Kyle, he was a great artist and a great lover, but she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she never accepted the ring, if she had let that patient die. For the past few months, even with the guardian's lifting the Law of no relationships within the corps, she was feeling increased stress. The job was hard enough, but they were the front line of a universe's cop system, she was just a surgeon. Well, now she was more than just a surgeon. She was a Green Lantern. Yes, it did make it easier to perform complicated operations, but at the same time after the fight was over she realized some alien would have to patch the villain up. Although admittedly, her people accepting her new job was a big relief. She really wouldn't be able to handle them fearing her for her father's crimes and still be expected to perform as a Green Lantern. She turned in the bed, so she was facing Green Lantern Kyle. Or just Kyle. She smiled, she adored the earthman. He was... fascinating, speaking as a plain alien, and a surgeon. When he wasn't looking she would watch him, eyeing his movements. She found alien lifeforms to be a interesting study in anatomy. Soranik couldn't sleep. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like again to not worry about being a green lantern. She felt her partner move around - as if in a bad dream. She turned to face him and hugged him, dragging him closer to her so he could snuggle close and go back to sleep. "Mm...Kyle?" She mumbled, was he awake? She figured he was, so she buried her face in his back.</s>

It was the end of another day at Hogwarts. Classes had come to an end, and students were filing out quickly in order to get out of their uniforms and into more comfortable and casual clothes before dinner that evening. There was one student who wouldn't be leaving Severus Snape's potions class just yet, however; she had discreetly requested that she stay behind once class was over. Her name was Fala Takoya, and she wasn't in trouble - far from it. She was an excellent pupil, but for several years now Snape had always thought there was something holding her back or distracting her during class. In recent months, he had finally figured out what that was. Several times now, he had caught her sneaking glances at him, noticed her staring at him when she seemed to think he wasn't looking. Even out of class, he'd noticed her occasionally looking at him for a little 'too long'. The more he'd noticed her doing that, the more he'd noticed himself seemingly doing much the same back to her...letting his gaze linger perhaps longer than was appropriate. It had gotten to the point that Severus himself was being affected...he had found himself distracted, momentarily forgetting things that should have been second nature to him by this point. He knew how inappropriate it was...she was a student after all, he shouldn't feel this way about someone so much younger than himself. But the more he denied himself, the worse it became. Finally though, he had decided enough was enough. Things couldn't go on like this. One way or another, things were going to be resolved this very evening, and if it ended his career then so be it. But damnit, he had earned some small happiness after everything he had been made to go through. All the unsung victories of his...all he had done to safeguard these people and earned nothing but hatred in return. Well, it was time to change that now. As the last of the other students left, it was now only Fala and Severus in the potions classroom. The door slammed shut behind the last student to leave, leaving an eerie silence that filled the classroom, broken only by the occasional bubbling of a potion at the front of the room on Severus' personal workstation. He let the silence hang there for a few moments before turning to face Fala. "....Miss Takoya," his voice pierced through the silence like a hot knife through butter. "I think the time has come that we had a little chat....one on one." He approached her desk slowly, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty room as he came closer and closer, until he suddenly seemed to be standing right in front of her desk, leaning forward slightly, looking down at her as she was still seated. "....I have...noticed...how you have been watching me recently...and....I believe it is time..." His hands were on the desk, agonizingly close to her own. "...that we discussed this. I must say...I do not mind you looking at me....however...looking is no longer enough. Do you...understand what I am saying...Miss Taokoya? No....Fala" For Severus to refer to someone by their first name was a rarity indeed. It would either indicate something very very good or very very bad.

Fala was a sixth year Slytherin. Her parents had moved here from the US, belonging to one of the native American tribes who still lived in the traditional ways, their magic having protected them and their land. But even this tribe was looking to have contact with the outside magical world, they weren't fond of muggles to put it mildly. Yet the purebloods here weren't very happy, despite the fact that Fala and her family came from a long line of purebloods. She didn't care really. At sixteen she stood 5'11ft tall, almost as tall as a certain professor and her head of house. Her well-built body had gotten her attention from a lot of boys, be it most weren't Slytherin. But Fala also held a secret, she was a hermaphrodite and hiding that in Hogwarts was a challenge indeed. She'd fallen for her head of house, she thought it would pass, just a crush, but it had been three years now. She would sneak glances at him, but lately she'd noticed or thought she'd noticed him looking at her as well. When he asked her to stay her heart skipped a beat, even though it probably wasn't for what she was hoping for. She watched him as he approached her. There was something about the pale skin and the small pinkish lips that turned her on, but there was more to it, than just that, she just couldn't put her finger on it. He came so close... Fala couldn't say she was surprised that he had noticed her sneaking glances, almost nothing could get by him. The tension in the air one could almost cut with a knife and his voice, she just loved it. She thought he'd blow her off, tell her to look elsewhere, but to her surprise he wanted more than just looking. She couldn't help but smile when in not so many words told her he wanted to fuck her. "But of course." She said, she couldn't be happier, though she wasn't sure how he would react when he found out that she had something extra. She looked into his eyes, which were rather close, beautiful dark eyes...</s>

INITIALIZING BOOT-UP SEQUENCE ACTIVATED MEMORY CHECK - COMPLETE SPEECH CAPABILITY CHECK - ERROR: SPEECH PARAMETERS NOT FULLY ESTABLISHED CONTINUE? (Y/N): Y MOBILITY CHECK: COMPLETE VIDEO PROCESSING CHECK: COMPLETE BOOT-UP SEQUENCE COMPLETE As the first activation checks were completed, slowly, this new being decided to open its eyes and see the world around it. Looking right in front of her, it noticed that there was a very beautiful, red haired woman that was standing in front of her. What the woman was doing, it could not be sure as it had a pondering question in its processor. QUERY: IS THIS PERSON MY CREATOR? Its computerized question focused itself on the bottom left hand corner of its vision as the programming started to take shape. "Are... you.... my... creator?" It asked with a pause as if it was struggling to speak. Hopefully, some questions were going to be answered as the unit looked at the woman for the very first time in its existence.

As the first activation checks were completed, slowly, this new being decided to open its eyes and see the world around it. Looking right in front of her, it noticed that there was a very beautiful, red-haired woman that was standing in front of her. What the woman was doing, it could not be sure as it had a pondering question in its processor. QUERY: IS THIS PERSON MY CREATOR? Its computerized question focused itself on the bottom left hand corner of its vision as the programming started to take shape. "Are... you.... my... creator?" It asked with a pause as if it was struggling to speak. Hopefully, some questions would be answered as the unit looked at the woman for the very first time in its existence. "I am. My name, Candi, is Thatri Silvers. You may call me Mistress, Mistress Thatri or Mistress Silvers," Thatri said as she stood up and walked closer. "Present yourself for inspection."</s>

It had been fourteen long years since that fateful night. The night that he was defeated by a mere toddler. The night that his mother's love saved him. The night that he swore never to love again. Harry Potter may have defeated him all those years ago, but he was back, and more powerful than before. This time though, he wouldn't be so lucky. No, for he had a plan. He was going to defeat the teenager once and for all. It was his scar that reminded him of his failure. This time, there would be nothing left of the famous Harry Potter to leave a scar on. Voldemort sat in the Malfoy's mansion, plotting his latest attack on the brat, and this time he couldn't fail, not with all his followers at his side. His personal army, made up of the most twisted, ruthless, uncaring wizards and witches that the wizarding world had to offer. His Death Eaters were specially trained, the three unforgivable curses drilled into their heads, and upon proving that they could cast all three on living victims, he gave them their coveted Dark Mark. He gave them as usual, but one individual caught his eyes. She was the sister-in-law of one of his best Death Eaters. She proved herself capable, and quickly earned her mark. She also rose in ranks quickly as well, becoming his number one Death Eater. He was enthralled by her. He knew that she had feelings for him, and he finally let her know, his true feelings for her, but made her swear to tell no one, not even her sisters. But as he sat there, he felt the need for something. Something he never thought he'd need, or want for that fact. But it was needed, and he couldn't think of anyone more suited for this task than her. "Lucius, get Bellatrix," Voldemort said, as he sat at the head of the table. "Oh, and Lucius, top floor, no one up there for at least the weekend, I have important business, and expect not to be bothered." He added, as he narrowed his eyes. "That is unless someone would like a nice Crucio tonight, do I make myself clear?" He added, as he got up. "Send Bellatrix up when she arrives." With that, he walked out, his long black robes flowing behind him, to wait for the one true love in his life to arrive.

Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black was finally free from her 14 year imprisonment in Azkaban for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. They had refused to tell her where the love of her life was after he had fallen, so she made them bat shit crazy. The poor fools didn't know they even had a child together. She laughed proudly even as she was convicted, sitting in the chair not like a prisoner but like a queen on her throne. Bella spent 14 years in a living hell, for her love, she was nothing without him even if he didn't know she liked him as such never really letting on about it when she was in her right mind, but now it's blatantly obvious even though she hadn't really said it. Not wanting him to be upset with her knowing love was a weakness but she was madly in love with him, plus he released her from Azkaban and personally trained her. Bella was on heavy duty potions for pain and to try and restore her strength, power, and beauty. Feeling as though Azkaban took it away from her. On top of that having horrific nightmares, she'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Recently getting comfort in the knowledge that The Dark Lord loves her in return, she didn't understand it at first nor did she tell a soul what he had said. Bellatrix was just coming back from a mission that The Dark Lord sent her on. Not long after walking in she saw Lucius then listening to what he told her. She nodded her head and went to her room making sure she looked decent before going to see him. Curious to what he wanted to see her about, even though she was tired. Bellatrix made her way upstairs She lightly knocked upon the door, once she was given the okay to enter she did. "You wish to see me my Lord?" She asked bowing low in respect going lower than any of the others.</s>

Roko eased himself off of his mount as he reached the stables, nodding to the keeper as he passed him the reins and tossed him a couple silver coins for keeping his wolf for the night. The orc looked around a moment, taking in his surroundings as he approached the small tavern just on the outskirts of Ratchet. The tavern was noticeably busy tonight, both Alliance and Horde were enjoying drinks and conversation but not with each other. The Horde managed to stay on the left side of the tavern, filling bar stools and tables while the Alliance stuck to the other. With a smile, Roko stepped inside and helped himself to a stool and small table located near the middle of the tavern that was unoccupied. He met several stares and nods from other patrons, but the Orc was unfazed by most of it. His strong frame pushed through a crowd of goblins, keeping his hands on the hilts of his axes which rested at his hips before taking his seat. A familiar goblin approached his table, giving him a friendly grin and served him his usual mead before scurrying off to help other customers, leaving the Orc to take in the sights and sounds.

Fauna entered the tavern, her long blue dress dangling from her petite Draenei frame. She was a local patron, in fact it was her beauty that brought in most business. She was so gorgeous that it was famed across the expanse of Ratchet and miles beyond that. Though she was more than just a pretty face, she was a harlot at times as well. Allowing any man or woman (if they suited her taste) access to her body for a price. Tonight was no exception to her devious ritual. As she entered the bar, she saw a particularly interesting mount. A wolf. Wolves were an Orc-specific mount, and those greenskins were the easiest to tame pigeons. She saw the Orc in his massive bulk, sitting at the counter. Jackpot, she thought.</s>

Naruto had always cared about Hinata, but she was only a very good friend in his eyes. He had simply never thought of her that way, and never really could see her true feelings. But when she protected him from Pein, he saw her true feelings for the first time. He came to terms at that moment with the feelings he never knew he had for the girl then. But even then he hadn't quite realized it himself yet. Her words however, combined with his true feelings led to Naruto's first brush with true pain. Naruto gave in to the fox. His emotions bearing down on him like a weight that was constantly increasing, and the fox offered him an escape. The pain of seeing the girl who he had always cared for that he now knew loved him may have just died was enough to make him accept the foxes offer, and release the fox and give in to the fox's powers. The fox let loose a terrible rampage of destruction as it devastated the Hokage Mountainside. And soon Naruto would kill Pein... Or rather, the fox would. But then the light of his father, Minato, the Fourth Hokage entered Naruto and freed him from some of the pain and resealed the fox. Naruto then beat Pein with his own strength and found the true Pein, and earned his trust. The pain of the village's destruction was not gone, the pain of the deaths of the villages was not gone but it was being healed as they all embraced their loved ones who had passed. Now Naruto had returned to the village and was praised as the village's hero. Only... As he was tossed into the air as a hero, as he was embraced by Sakura who had feared they may have lost him, he slowly realized he didn't see Hinata, and remembered just what had happened to her. Now naruto was running through the debris of a devastated Leaf Village, heading towards the medical tents, rushing through each if them shouting the name of the girl who professed her love to him. "Hinata! Hinataa!! Where is she?! Where's Hinata?!" The medical staff rushed to deal with the walking tornado that was Naruto "Naruto! Calm down! She's all right!" The med ninjas tried to restrain Naruto to make sure he was all right. Naruto pushed them off and ran into a tent right in front of him which had slightly open flaps and saw Hinata right in front of him on a medical table and rushed over to her placed his left hand in the side of her head gently, her beautiful soft black hair running through his fingers, and his right hand gently grasped her hand and he began to cry ever so slightly as he said "Hinata... Hinata I'm so sorry! The only reason she got hurt was because of me!" Naruto's voice began to crack slightly as he said this and a tear fell from his left eye landing on Hinata's gentle, serene face.

Hinata had begun to stir a bit with all the commotion, but hadn't fully wakened until he was there and touching her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him, blinking a few times as her brain slowly pieced together what was happening. She blushed lightly and bit her lip. "N-Naruto?" she asked, wincing slightly as she tried to move only to feel a sharp pain go through her. "Well... kinda," she added, frowning as she settled back into the pillows. She was honestly a bit surprised he'd shown up. Most of this time, she'd been asleep but she'd expected him to avoid her. The confession, she had hoped he would have forgotten about that, it had slipped out without her wanting it to, and now she was terrified of his reaction.</s>

She was pacing back and forth outside the Warchief's quarters as she waited to be called in. She hated waiting like this and didn't wish to wait any longer. She just wanted to get it all over with so she wouldn't have to see Garrosh for that long. Sesshi Sunsorrow was the daughter of her aunt's younger sister, Mio Sunsorrow. Her sister, Rinsho was already out on a mission that Garrosh had sent her on about a week ago, though from what she gathered her sister had been sent out to Pandaria like her mother and most of her family. She was a rare Blood Elf though for her choice in class, seeing as almost everyone of her kind strayed from the druidic path. For Sesshi, she embraced the path she had chosen as a druid and when she was of age sought out someone who could teach her the ways of being a Druid. When she had finally reached Moonglade the guards had stopped her and told her only druids and druids in training were allowed in, she told them that she had came there seeking to become a druid and needless to say, they were quiet surprised. "You're the first of your kind to come to us seeking our way of life. Pray tell child why do you wish to become a druid?" One of the guards had asked her. "I maybe a Blood Elf, but we were once High Elves. Despite the fact that I followed the path of my family and curved my addiction from arcane magic for another source, but I wish to become a druid to show that even though we abandoned our true natures before we can still follow the paths of nature. Hunters follow the path of nature, do they not? They take care of their pets who are from nature, so why should I be any different from learning my true calling as a druid? I do not need fel magic anymore nor do I seek it. I have found myself living as one with nature ever since I was born as a High Elf and after becoming a Blood Elf I have missed my true calling in life. I ask, no I beg of you to please allow me to really become one with nature!" She explained as the guards had looked at each other in shock and nodded to one another. "Very well then child, if what you say is true then please follow us. We see you have brought no weapons with you, which is wise yet not smart since you had no way of protecting yourself on your journey here. Come with us and we shall take you to your new trainer, Temachi Softhoof." The guard on the left spoke as she nodded and followed the guard inside Moonglade. As they walked she looked around her new surroundings and was impressed with how lovely it all looked being surrounded by nature. After walking for a bit, the guard stopped by one of the houses and knocked on the door. "Master Temachi," he said, "we have brought you a very interesting girl who wishes to learn our ways." The guard spoke as noises inside could be heard. The door opened and a very large male Tauren looked at them and looked over Sesshi with a curious look. "Hmmm... So a Blood Elf wishes to learn our ways? Why do you wish to become a druid, little one?" He asked as his mellow green eyes looked her over. The guard explained what Sesshi had told them, and his eyes widened with glee. "I had foreseen one of your kind coming to me to learn our ways, one who has abandoned their old path of huger for fel and arcane magic. You are the one who my dreams spoke highly of. Very well then, if the ancestors have your blessing, then I will teach you personally. Narus, leave the girl with me and find her one of the empty homes please. She will be living among us from this day forward." He spoke to the guard and Narus nodded and left them as she went to carry out the order. "Come inside, little one, and make yourself at home." He said as he moved out of the doorway to grant her passage. "Yes, Master Temachi, thank you." She replied softly as she entered his home and looked around for a seat. His home was rather large, but it was a given due to how large he was. But it was very well decorated to say the least. Just by looking at it from the outside you could easily tell a druid lived here, but once inside it was more obvious. Finding a seat, she sat down as he walked over to sit down in front of her. "Now tell me child," he said, "just what made you want to stray from the path that the rest of your kind walks on?" She answered, "Well, master, I have always been in tune with nature, even after following my family into finding a new addiction, I still longed to be with nature. A druid seems to be the only path that suits me." She watched him gathering the herbs. "Well that pleases me to no end to hear this from you child. You wish to walk the path that we druids take, and I will help you. The ancestors have given you their blessing, and I will train you. From this day forth, I am your master and mentor. You will live with us, and should you choose to go back to the Horde to help aid them, you are more than free to do so. But don't stray from this path ever. Do you understand me?" He asked, walking back over with the herbs and giving her a stern look. "Yes, I do," she replied simply, and he nodded as he tossed the herbs into the bowl on the table. "Very well then. These herbs here will be lit on fire, and you are to inhale them. These are the purifying herbs that will help purify your body, soul, and mind. It will also let me have a glimpse of your past to see which path of a druid would be best suited for you." He finished, and she waited for him to continue. Once he lit the herbs, the room began to fill with the smoke from them as she inhaled slowly and deeply. Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind of everything as he had further instructed and allowed herself to be free of everything. He saw her past and how gruesome and horrible it had been. How her family had suffered so much, yet despite all of that, she remained pure of heart. She was innocent and only killed when she had to. But he could also see she was a proud member of the Horde and upheld the laws of Thrall when he took her kind in. Saw how much time she had stayed in the forest and refused to live in the city like the rest of her kind. So much he had seen and he understood her path very clearly. She was a rare one that was true. One that would be able to match any role of a druid and master all roles. Only he himself and a select few could have had this path chosen for them, and she was now one of the few. After he was finished, he cleared his throat to let her know she was free to open her eyes and listen to him. Opening her eyes, she looked at him as he stood up and bowed before her, surprising her. "You, Sesshi Sunsorrow are one of a kind and you are more pure than any other Blood Elf I have ever met. Your path has been chosen for you and you are like me, you will be able to master any role of the druid and master all roles. There are only a few of us who can do this, and you child are one of them. I am glad the ancestors sent you to me, there is no other druid here in the village that can teach you the proper ways that I can. Your training will start tomorrow seeing as it's been a long day and Narus is back with the key to your new home. Go get some rest child. You have new cloths that will not shred when you do change forms. But go get some rest child and we will begin your training in the morning. Food is also provided for you and everything has been taken care of so you need not worry. You will fully be one of us after the ceremony tonight. I look forward to seeing you there with us, sister." He finished and got up to lead her out. "I am very grateful for this master, I truly am." She said as he nodded and Narus bowed before them. "I too look forward to seeing you tonight and the ceremony master. I am just so glad that my path in life is truly what I had wanted for." She finished as she bowed before him and took her leave with Narus as she was led to her new home... She sighed as she remembered what brought her to her path and smiled softly to herself as she continued to wait outside to be called in. The ceremony had been a nice one though, and even though the training was really harsh and brutal, she still managed it and was persistent in learning the ways of a druid, which she had passed with flying colors and was the best student her master had ever taught. One of the Kor'Kron walked out and gave her a grunt look as he cleared his throat. "The Warchief will see you now druid." He spoke as she nodded and was led inside. "Sesshi! I am pleased to see you and I have an important mission for you." Garrosh gruffly spoke as her ears twitched as she listened to him. Getting up from his throne he walked over to the map of Azeroth and pointed at a location which she recognized. "There is an Alliance camp that has been formed here in Felwood and I want you to go there and assassinate every Alliance scum you see there. We aren't taking prisoners and I want you to do this as a solo mission. With your skills this should be no problem for you at all. Correct? Now! I want you to gather ANY information on the enemy as you can and report back to me AFTER you complete your mission and return to Orgrimmar with haste. Do NOT dawdle druid or it may cost you dearly!" He ordered as she nodded. "As you wish Warchief." She bowed and he waved his large red hand at her, dismissing her and she then took her leave. She had everything she needed and shifted into her flight form and made haste to Felwood, just wanting to get the hell out of Orgrimmar and away from Garrosh as fast as she could. Once outside of Durotar she sighed to herself and continued to fly to Felwood. "That fucking fool doesn't deserve the title as 'Warchief' I will never understand why Thrall left us with this madman." She spat as she passed over what is now known as The Northern Barrens. It took her two days to get to Felwood and when she finally reached her mark, she landed and shifted into her lynx form and waited for the rest of the sun to set. She could hear the Alliance talking amungst themselves and could understand what they were saying. After all, she could understand any language and was one of the best assassins her family had to offer aside from her sister Rinsho and her aunt Himeko. She didn't know that she was being watched, let alone that the Alliance had set up an ambush for in case someone from the Horde came, but she stood still and was stealthed as best as she could possibly be. Still waiting for the right moment to pounce and make it their last moments of breathing.

She smelled the druid before seeing her. Lara'seyes (Top row, 2nd from left, the purple) opened wide as she silently moved from the tree's base, through the thick, dead undergrowth of Felwood. Her armor was off her body, the large worgen warrior crawled on all fours until she spotted the source of the scent. An animal, curious, Lara moved closer, she wasn't used to seeing an animal like this in this part of Azeroth. Most things here were dying or demonic, but this was a cat. She suddenly felt an urge she had tried to suppress so often. Lara moved back a little. Growing up she never became close to anyone, her own body had scared her. She remembered cold, wet streets, being lonely and hungry. She clearly had a vixen's face, and her body was everything a man would want, but there was something else to her, something she hid from the world. Lara hid it well when she chose to become a warrior. Her training was constant, she saw every fight as a chance to improve and the men stayed away from her because she was dangerous. However she found herself being pulled towards women, a need that she couldn't stop. She left Gilneas to pursue a career as a warrior, and she knew that the Horde was the best enemy to fight. That was why she came to Felwood, to be close to the action, to engage in bloody battle and strike down her enemies. Yet...here she was, watching a cat and aching for it. Lara took a few deep breaths and smelled for any other scents, no other Alliance members were nearby, just her and this cat. She wondered if it was some Forsaken trick...there was no other race in the Horde she hated more than the Forsaken. She respected orcs, tauren and trolls for their combat prowess and she knew that Blood Elves and Goblins could be dangerous in their own right, but Forsaken, the bastards attacked the innocent and slew even the young. They were the ones who committed the most war crimes, even going so far as to use the plague to wipe out the Gilnean population. Lara had no qualms about Garrosh, the orc was responsible for the increased hostility of the Horde towards the Alliance. She was glad for that, that meant more fighting, and more chances to become even better. Lara edged a little closer, moving as silently as possible, she knew cats had sensitive ears, even large ones such as this. She moved a little closer and then sprang forwards, tackling the cat to the ground and pinning it under her. As a warrior Lara was naturally strong, but in her worgen form it made her even stronger. She sniffed the cat's neck and smelled something different, something pure, natural, clean. Her groin stirred. She was breathing faster. Something was strange with her body and she knew it.</s>

Journal: Entry 61. Date: 2033, April 11th. I remember the day as if it was only yesterday. Funny, seeing as though I was only a young boy of six. And yet, my memory's of later years draw a blank. But that day... The fire's, the screaming, the sirens... Yes, I remember it just as clearly as my own voice... Yet, my mother's face is just as distant a memory as anything else I have forgotten. If I were to leave the metro. I can see nothing but a ruined Moscow. And only through the plastic, and glass lenses of my gas mask. I remember lush green grass. Large, perfect buildings. And crude, selfish people. Whom in this new world are even more selfish. Sometimes, life is so hard. I wish I died with my mother when the bombs fell. But alas, here I am... Life only get's harder down here. And, even worse up on the surface. The things I have seen. The creatures... Would give any man nightmares. I drown myself in vodka, to no avail. The nightmares come every night. Maybe there is no hope for humanity. Was there any hope ever? We destroyed our own planet. And now, the Metro that protected us. The Metro we call home. Is becoming uninhabitable it'self. I ponder at times, whether or not we are alone. Are we really all that is left of humanity? Or is there some other station, or place in the world. Maybe even here in Russia, just like us. But, to know such things is a far off future. One, that I would never live to see. For it is well past my life time. Maybe, it is not. One may never know. Until then... Next drink is for you mother..." Dhemytri clicked the button at the end of his pen. Placing it in a sleeve on his note book. Then placing it into his pack. He sighed, as he listened to the young men across the bar. Shouting and hooting. Singing and drinking. 'Oh the singing?... Why sing? Who cares. Just drink, and be done with it.' Dhemytri thought to himself. As he poured another round of vodka. "uhh... Well, to you mother." He said, true to his word. Then, downing down the shot. "Uuugh.." He grunted, as the smooth liquid burned it's way down his throat. He pulled a handful of military grade rounds out of his pocket. Setting them onto the table in preparation of his bill. Ten rounds for the Vodka, and two for the waitress. Dhemytri was a tall 26-year-old man. Well built, from how active he was. Constantly working, fighting, and killing to make a buck. In Dhemytri's case, a bullet. Since it was the currency these days. He had black hair, and brown eyes. Not to mention almost perfect teeth. In his own right, he was an attractive man. Well, at least compared to his competition. He is a keeper most would say. Despite his dangerous career as a gun for hire. He had his own fair share of scars though. Some deep, and painful. And some, were mental ones. He doesn't remember much of his life as a child. There was a time, of complete darkness. Ever since his mother fought her way through the crowds, just to have him even enter the metro. She, was left behind as the doors closed. And Dhemytri was then left all alone... "Ah! Stop your singing!" Dhemytri shouted at the drunken group of men. As he was tired of reminiscing, and even more tired of them. "What did you say ass hole?" One asked as he began to stumble towards Dhemytri's table. "I will have you know. My comrades and I are trained soldiers!" He said, as he slammed his hand on the table. Dhemytri scoffed. "Huh, what army. You wear no colors." The man then got more fired up. "The red army! Show some respect! I was a respected general, you know." Dhemytri was tired of this loser. "Oh ya? Seems to me your nothing more then a drunk. I am not one to pick sides. And hate communist's like you. But, what's worse then a communist, or a Nazi? Drunken swine like you." The man's face grew red, "Why you!" He shouted as he swung at Dhemytri. Dhemytri grabbed his hand, twisted it, gripped the drunks hair, and slammed his face into the table twice. Then a third time for good measure. Letting his head bounce against the wooden surface. The man made a sad, squealing sound before he grew unconscious. "Take your friend out of hear." Dhemytri ordered the drunk's comrades. As the man fell to the ground. Not wanting any trouble. The men complied. Dragging their buddy out of the bar. "You will pay for this." One of the men said as they made their escape. "Pussy's." Dhemytri retaliated. He then sat back down pouring himself another glass. "I think that may be my queue to leave." He said before downing another shot. He then pushed his finger against the rim of his glasses, pushing them up and correctly onto his face. "Great, had to make trouble with the reds."

"Seems like you're a man trying to forget something," Synthia said as she sat down in front of the bruiser. Pulling the hardwood chair back, she cupped her chin in the palm of her hand. Her dirty blonde hair, cut short to allow easier wearing of a gasmask, covered one emerald eye while the other scrutinized. "From your little demonstration, you're just the man I need for a little job I have. Now, you're free to turn it down....but I doubt you will." She reached over and took the vodka bottle Dhemytri had been slowly draining, taking a sip before making a face and placing it back next to him. "That is quite a strong brew. Anyways, I have an escort job that I need done, and I need someone who can handle themselves. Obliviously if you're picking fights with the reds...well, leaves me to question your sanity, but you have balls. I need balls to get this job done." She smiled at her own joke, leaning in to whisper, "I will pay handsomely. Two hundred bullets for a simple little jaunt." She leaned back in her chair some, lighting a crude cigarette, and blew the smoke out of her nostrils. "Surely a man with the courage to fight the reds on their home turf can see the advantages of a little escort duty." She flicked her hair out of her eyes, exposing both emerald ones, glinting softly in the candlelight, waiting for the proposition to set in.</s>

Discord smiled to himself as he flew above the homes of Ponyville, before landing outside Sugarcube Corner. He always enjoyed his visits to Pinkie; he could let go a little more here than he could in public in Ponyville, where he was somewhat limited in the fun he could have. As much as he enjoyed the freedom he now had, he couldn't replace the desires that were at his core - pure anarchic chaos, with a casual sprinkling of blood thrown in. But there's no point in chaos if there's nobody to enjoy it with, right? He headed into the seemingly empty Sugarcube Corner and glanced around. "Pinkamena my dear? Are you in here?"

Pinkie bounded down the stairs, locking the door behind him. "You're a little early, Discy," she giggled, moving to one of the cupboards. She opened it, sliding things out of the way and opening a trapdoor at the bottom, pulling out a small strongbox. She proceeded to unlock it, revealing a slimmed-down chef's knife set in padding. She stood, picking up the knife. She jerked and shuddered, her back arching and her hair drooping flat. "Mmmm, so sweetie, who's playing victim tonight?"</s>

Just like the deepest darkest oceans, it's same...For the deepest darkest forests. No one can ever imagine what dwells within them. And just like how all bodies of waters were contacted...In some way, or other, you could also find yourself in a forest... But what would someone do if they found out the truth? Yes, they were gateways to alien worlds. Places human kind wrote off as wild imaginations of the crazies, emotional stress. Then how would you explain your moments of waking, when reality shifts to illusions and dreams? Astral projecting? Missing persons, our world is only so huge. You will end up going circles. So why have we yet to find these missing people then? Once their leads run dry? Hmm? What about demon possessions? Now many believe these claims to be real. Yet they don't and cant accept, even these creatures need a play to dwell to call home too..So many answers and truths in our faces, no one chooses to accept, or refuses too. Only the victims, and the now deemed crazies and others that have been caught under theses pulls now see and understand. But being small in numbers, they are discredited. Committed, put on life-endangering drugs, or brainwashed by society to be a sheep and not speak what they have seen...BUT THAT IS THE GLORY OF IT!...The darker entities love that..They can go on in the shadows and never be intruded in their work.... It wasn't torment, or torture...as many say constantly. However, it was strange and awkward, nevertheless. Though not worth saying torment or torture. She had much time to reflect on this, a few centuries, as a matter of fact. Nerve-racking and anger provoking, at times...perhaps. But endless suffering? She didn't see it. Morbid and frightening, is what they would say if anyone could hear thoughts. Or see into the inner workings of her mind. Though to this child, Eva...it was a godsend. Even if she can accept, stand back, and understand the fact - yes, her godsend was actually her kidnapper, not her hero. She didn't really care, this rarely seen force deemed her worthy, 'kidnap-able,' it pleased her and stroked her ego in all the right ways. If it were not for this bittersweet, centuries-old union of 'master and pet,' she would be long gone. Dead and buried for roughly 200 years now, worm food. Decaying alone, with no visitors to leave her flowers. Once buried, you will never see them again? There is no honor in death, maybe that is why we all thrive to reach immortality. To finally have all of eternity to do something right and notable, noble. Once you are dead, you're dead. You cannot fix your mistakes or redeem yourself from the things you did to yourself or others among the living. So why can't she enjoy her forced upon servitude? Never forgetting, she fears him just as much as she loves him. Through all this, she found his company a musing and very much welcomed experience, until she angers him...like any person. Immortal, undead, living...whatever the case may be. He was a force to be reckoned with. She surely did not have him wrapped around her finger. Though he had made it quite clear to all others ungodly things wondering these inter-dimensions who wanted to take her for "test runs" or eat her soul...that she was his "pet." Then he would always send them running...for their unholy lives. Reaching for a chipped, and poorly crafted a-temp teacup, Eva's eyes remind fixated on her book. It was so engrossing. Who would have thought, that these other worlds, with their different plans and riffs on time, would have such mind-blowing literature? She couldn't figure out how, none of this had sunk into her old life. With such mind-altering, corrupting literature, this was a sure way to get her kind to submit to the demons' rule. She laughed. She was far too strong for corruption. ..If only the poor child knew, she had been corrupted ages ago. After living here for such time, she learned many demonic tongues and how to trick a demon out of contact. She had learned and studied so much..Which led her back, to thinking.."And they call me..captive..Blah..If I was..I would be chained and handcuffed or..He would have eaten my soul I would be a mindless drone...MY! his neighbors are so rude..." As her cultured cadence, merely emphasized her point. Absently thumbing through, her weather-worn novel, that pretty much was bound in human flesh. Taking one quick sip of now cold coffee. She was snapped out of her thoughts when hearing the 12th clock crime, of an old decrypted grandfather clock. Eva began to get comfortable, hunkering under the covers. It was far later than she had expected. Yes...Even they too were living things. Even they need sleep, food, and could/can create their own kind by the normal act of copulating, E.T.C.. They were the races before humans. They were of Supernatural/unexplained beginnings. Humans through ages, have blown them out of proportion. Even if they had unexplained abilities, that may overpower mortals, they were still that of a humanoid existent, to a point... And Eva was keeping bad hours, and she found her master, playfully scolding her, about that. Though it wasn't a laughing manner, he may have frozen time for her. Only he couldn't cure, what allied her. Her Tuberculosis, forever came and went, but since she couldn't die, so easily now. She pretty much passed out in pools of her own blood. Always at the worst times too. Right after the floors were clean too.... Yawning, and just let her body go weak. Falling deeper to her pillows, but not before reaching for her bookmaker. Placing it between the last read pages, to gently rest it upon her bedside table. Reaching for a pillow, while rolling to her side. Hugging it close, with a content moan. Eva walked down "his" labyrinth. Purely made of forest with many paths, twist turns. Only the lucky ones had that privilege, to walk these grounds without meeting a strangely, untimely death. She was the lucky one. She lost a life, but gained another. One with power, stature, and if you stretched it a bit of nobility. As being her Master's "Pet" Proxy, she was given special treatment. Earning his trust and respect, she had never failed him or questioned him... Much. She was still a child, it was come to be expected, she would still ask her master and question him, on a many things. She had grown use to the wide birth, the others gave her. During her jaunts in that other worldly marketplace/town mortals would call disturbing, sinful... Who would want to get on their master little ward's bad side. Death may come to you. So she never fully could believe, if their kindness to her was fear or, they were just accepting her as their own.200 Years in this universe. It would be about time, she would have been seen as them... And not a mortal, lucky to gain their enlightenment. Immortally, and a position as well... The town was hard to explain. As it looked to what you would accept to a small town to look. As it overlook the woods. The main centerpiece, to their lord's playground/home. All your horrors, as a child to now adult would dwell with in. It was refreshing, Eva did remember some, but to have that power over them, always give her a wicked victorious look. To think they once hunted her dreams, and now she ruled them. She grew out of them ages ago. ALONG before her master had taken her away, to this world. That was now her home, for last 2 centuries. But still, it was fun to watch them squirm when she would walk by, as they made her do, in days of old.of her old life....

He watched her as she roamed through his forest though he remained unseen. Time and Space meant very little to him and there was little that could be kept from him especially in his own home. Ah, but his pet was such a lovely thing - his face bore no eyes or any sensory organs, but he could see her all the same. To the tiniest pore on her cheek to the muscles within the bone-covered veins and sinew, her entire being was laid open to him, including the sickness that lay within her. Poor little pet, her illness was such an easy thing to erase, but she wasn't ready - her mind still clung to her mortal concepts of existence. She measured her time with him in centuries, but time was an illusion to one such as he. Every moment was an eternity, and eternity was not but a flicker. He could recall every moment of his time with her with such detail as to experience it again. See the fish within this pond? He gestured with one perfectly white hand at the still stream, long slender fingers touching her back. They grow, they feed, and reproduce; they live their lives knowing only the pond. But what would happen if I plucked one out? His hand moved stretching impossibly long, ensnaring a fish from the water, pulling the wriggling thing out. Do you see its eyes? What must it think of this new alien world? The geometries that it had never seen before - a frightening place where the very air is poison. With a flick of his wrist, he dropped it, letting his hand dangle back onto his side. There, now what would this fish tell to its companions? That it had been picked up by a god? That there is a realm of existence beyond their very comprehension? Would they think the fish mad? Would they be right in this matter? All of Earth is but a pond, Pet, Humanity but fish in the waters ignorant of the creatures above. The memory faded from his mind as he moved his physical body, flickering away. Within an instant, he was behind the tree she had just passed, then he was right behind her. Well hello, Dearest, he said, his hand touching her cheek, the other moving to her abdomen. His sensitive fingers could feel her heartbeat, feel all her organs and blood working to keep her alive. "I know you haven't been sleeping enough," he said, not quite a reprimand, more of a reminder that there was nothing she could keep from him. Would you like some company? He asked, his voice gentle as he stroked her cheek, his faceless head turning towards her.</s>

They had been running and prepping for this op for months. The SVU team had gotten word of a well-known human trafficker who had come into port and was using his large ship as a floating casino as a front to store the people below deck that he was smuggling. It had been decided that Olivia and Ziva would be brought into the ship as a gift to the leader so that she could get close to him and learn his secrets of how he avoided being caught before bringing him down on charges. But what they didn't know was that the leader of the smuggling ring had known about their little investigation and had allowed one of his men to be caught then flipped so he could lead detective Olivia Benson into his own little trap and feed false information to the rest of the team. Omaro gave a little whistle as he looked at Olivia and nodded. She would certainly be able to get the leader's attention. She was dressed in a flowy black silk dress which stopped around mid-thigh. Her legs were clad in black silk stockings, and she was given strappy heels. Well, you are certainly going to be able to hold his attention. Tony just kept looking Ziva over as he handed her the file of the dealer. "Well, with that dress you'll certainly turn some heads," he smirked, looking Ziva over in a long black silk dress with a slit up along her sides, damn near exposing her. Her long lovely legs were clad in silk stockings. "But with a dress like that, I don't know where you'll be able to hide a gun without them knowing." Gibbs walked down and gave Tony the usual smack to the back of the head. 'If all works out, she won't need to hide one. This is a simple infiltration and intel retrieval. Once we have enough, we can pull her out and go in ourselves.'

Olivia and Ziva finished up their make-up for their big mission. They went over the details of what to do and what to expect. Since this was their first time really working together on a case, they didn't know exactly how the other worked. After a while, they talked casually about their partners. They laughed as they realized that their partners were almost the same. After about twenty minutes of prepping, the ladies finally came out of the bathroom. Olivia smiled as she walked over to Omaro. "You really think so? I just hope he really goes for me is all. We really need to get this guy," she said. Ziva smiled at Tony. "Like what you see?" she asked, walking past him a bit before stopping. "Might want to close your mouth before you drool," she said, giving him a wink. She went to her desk and grabbed her gun, strapping it to her thigh. She then gave Tony a small smirk before going to Olivia. "I have other hiding places where things can go, Tony," she whispered in his ear. She then walked off towards Olivia.</s>

The past few months had been torture for the singer. After it had gotten out that she had been assaulted by her partner, the world seemed different to Rihanna. Everywhere she went, she felt the stares and heard the questions, people's curiosity getting the better of them and showing no respect for the vulnerable star. Despite it happening months ago, Rihanna was still having trouble sleeping at night because of it. Each week she visited a therapist, sometimes twice a week if needed just to help her calm down and relax. She had learned to trust the older man, telling him things in private, knowing they would not be passed on. Today was no different as she sat on the black leather couch in his large office. Wearing black leggings that stopped at her ankles and white heels, Rihanna crossed her legs and pulled the white T-shirt off her body, revealing her toned torso. Her long red hair was down her back, and sunglasses shielded her eyes from being seen. "I just can't stop thinking about it," she said. "I can't trust any other man now."

John Smith was a happy man. He led both public and private lives, both of which were satisfying. In his public life, he was a therapist, mainly dealing with celebrities. In his private life, he was the rapist, though no one knew of it. The reason no one knew of him being a rapist was due to a handy technique called Hypnosis. With it, he turned unknowing people into his willing sex slaves. He smiled as he thought back on all his conquests, including Megan Fox and Emma Stone. He looked at the celebrity in his current appointment, Rihanna, as she spoke about her problems. She was a very beautiful woman, and one he planned on making a sex slave just like the others. Even better, she had just given him the perfect opportunity. "Well, there are several ways we can go about this. One method we could try is Hypnosis. With it, we can get you to forget all of this ever happened and be able to sleep peacefully. Does that sound okay?" He asked the troubled singer, pulling out his trusty medallion that he used for hypnosis.</s>

The warm night sky was lit by the city's lights but cast an ominous shadow over the people it sheltered. The brisk breeze cut through Gotham and made a high-pitched whistle that mimicked the wail of a ghost, masking the padded footfalls of the large six-foot-five-inch tall man. Six weeks had passed without a single crime in Gotham, but his trained mind didn't trust that. There was always crime in his city. The large frame leaped from the tall building and his cape billowed out behind him as he glided across the city sky. His black armor gleamed when light hit his body. The gold belt around his waist was stocked with everything he needed. Landing in a dark alley, he remembered asking John Blake to take over for him while he left to rebuild his company, and now he was back under the mask taking on the role of Batman again. He waited for something to gain his attention and call him to action. After waiting for an hour in the same spot on the rooftops of Gotham, he moved to the richer part of town. After some time of travel, the dark-armored figure arrived at a small-time chemical distributor and saw sporadic movement inside the building. Playing safe, he moved in on the building and melded with the shadows silently. Waiting until the group came out with a few drums of chemicals, the Batman rolled under their truck as they were loading it and strapped himself to the bottom of the truck using his grapple line and cape. The truck took off after a few minutes and rode for hours until it arrived at the narrows. He waited for the group to move the chems into a rather large greenhouse and scaled the side of the building. After a moment of looking, he saw the six men place the chemicals next to a rather attractive woman and stopped his movement for a moment. That moment was all the glass of the greenhouse needed to shatter under his armored weight. Taken by surprise, his blue eyes widened as he fell. In an attempt to roll with the fall, he landed face down on the ground, causing him to become dazed and disoriented. Now lying face down on the ground, he didn't move for a long moment as his body attempted to get feeling back in it...

Former chemist Dr. Olivia Tatum, now under the guise of Poison Ivy, flipped her red hair away from her shoulders and looked at the masked superheroine. She had done her research; she was sure he knew she wasn't the original Poison Ivy, who had actually died. Olivia was a lot smarter, she knew how to control her abilities a little better. So while the Bat was down, she managed to control a few vines that lifted him off the ground and tied him to the wall. As she approached him, she removed his scowl, knowing she could manipulate him into doing whatever she wanted him to with just one kiss - well, maybe a long, passionate kiss - but either way, he would be under her control.</s>

The dark room that the captive was being held in was suddenly filled with bright lights as a girl stepped in, standing right in front of the chair he was tied to and ripped off the blindfold on his head. The girl was leaning forward, ample cleavage inches from his face as she pointed to a wall where elaborate green and pink spray-paint spelled out "Cooperate" in cursive before suddenly fading into the wall then reappearing in black and red with the words "Or I can kill you..." The girl, Tag sighed and spoke in a very bored-sounding voice, apathetic as hell. "So... you seem pretty cute... and the Brotherhood boys are totally not worth it... so let's cut to the chase..." She loosened her top, licking her lips. "You scratch my back... give me some information on Xavier... and I'll spend all night scratching yours... get me?"

Curtis shook his head as he tried to remove the blindfold, which was finally removed by the attractive villain in front of him. He gulped slightly at the spray paint message, but he knew he couldn't make it easy for her. "No," he said, tearing his eyes away from her cleavage. "I won't say anything." He looked down at his own erect penis, visible through his tight jeans. It would be hard not to give in to her demands, especially since he was tied up.</s>

The young Mord Sith was in the field training. She stopped as she saw Alex speaking with her higher up. They turned to look at her and immediately she knew she was wanted. She walked over and Alex said, "You have been honored greatly. You will provide Lord Rahl with an heir." Her eyes widened as she thought about what he had said. True it would be a great honor, but she didn't want to have a child with someone she didn't love. Alex saw how hesitant she was and said, "You will do this child. You do not deny the Lord Rahl of anything. Come, we must get you ready." She knew it was pointless to refuse and so followed him into the castle. He led her down a corridor and they entered a bathing chamber. Maids were already filling a tub with hot water, adding rose petals to it so the fragrance filled the room. Alex left her in the hands of the maids. She was washed, her long black tresses taken down from the intricate knot she used to keep it up. Her body was curvy yet toned, showing that she was an active female. Her skin shone a glittery pale rose color, and was dried and then scented with essential oils from rose petals. Her face was quite beautiful, with almond slanted eyes, surrounded with black eyelashes. They framed amethyst eyes, which had slitted pupils instead of the normal kind. Her lips were a dusky rose color, which matched the color of her nipples, though no man had seen that as of yet, for she was still untouched. She was dressed in a long sweeping gown, the color of her eyes while her hair was pulled up and back into an elegant up-do. She looked at herself in the mirror and then sighed. When the door opened she turned to look at Alex. He smiled at her and then motioned for her to follow him. She did so. They entered the royal bedchamber and Alex said, "May I present, Lady Galaysha Blackthorn. The future mother of your heir if everything goes well."

Mark had his maids make a chicken dinner with a cake for dessert. He didn't like thinking this was more about duty than what he wanted to do. He remembered his father's words: "I swear by my life and my love of it I will not work for the sake of another man nor ask one to live for my sake." A carriage came up to the front door of the castle. A footman came up to Mark and said, "Lord Rahl, she is here." The Lord Rahl found his way to the front room. He was flabbergasted when he saw the woman Alex brought for him. She was curvy yet strong. She wore a dress that was nothing like what a Mord Sith would wear but it seemed to fit her perfectly. Most Mord Sith looked out of place in anything but leather. He walked up to her and smiled. Then he looked at Alex and said, "I told you to bring me a Mord Sith, not an angel. You are magnificent." He looked at the Mord Sith again and said, "Dinner is served if you care to join me. We're having chicken; I hope you like it. My cook Mindy is one of the finest cooks in the Midlands. I think you will quite like it." He walked to the table. Dinner was served. Mark took a bite out of his chicken, chewed it, swallowed, and said, "Tell me about yourself, Galaysha."</s>

Being a God has so many perks. You are immortal to everything in the world, you have abilities that mortals could only dream of, you never need to worry about the woes of the world, and you can keep those that you love alive for as long as you want. However, sometimes it takes gods some time to get into the modern world, and sometimes it takes them only a second to fit right in. He always knew he was destined for power, and Hades never failed in his quest for such power. Being the CEO of a certain little record company called Hellfire Records gave him the power he oh so wanted. He had tons of money, and tons of corrupt politicians in his pocket to make sure he was what really held the power over the nation. It was such a glorious life, but there was one thing that truly made it all worthwhile. It was in ancient Greek times that he met her, and just knew he had to have her. Meg was frightened by him at first, considering he was the god of the underworld, but Hades eventually courted her, and began dating her. It wasn't long before he unlocked the secrets of her mind, and entered a new kind of relationship with her. The concept of master and slave weren't a new thing back then, and that was exactly what they had going on; however, she was free to deny him if she didn't like something, and had a say in what they do. She was fifty years old when he gave her back her youth, and made her immortal like him because he couldn't bear the thought of losing the only women in his life. Now they are living in modern times, and Hades could give her a lot more than he ever could before. "Meg, babe, would you bring your sexy little ass in here, and tell me my schedule for the day?" not only was she his lover/pet, but she was also his secretary. That way, he could keep an eye on her all times, and have free access to her anytime he wanted to.

Meg came into Hades's office and set down the papers he would need for the day. She sat on the edge of his desk and looked over her iPhone for his schedule. "You have a lunch meeting with Senator Davis and the marketing team wants you to listen to a few new artists and see if you like any of them," she said, crossing her legs and straightening his tie. She looked into his eyes and ran her fingers through his hair. She remembered the first time they met. She sold her soul to him for a man who walked out on her. It took her while to recover and not be so frightened of him, but Hades was always there for her. He helped her heal and gave her back her soul. At first she felt indebted to him, but now she loved him simply because he was Hades. Meg was wearing a red top with a black pencil skirt that hugged her ass and hips. Her top showed off her ample bosom enough to catch Hades's interest. That was all the interest she needed from anyone in her life; Hades gave her what she wanted when she wanted it. She didn't need anything else. She felt the stares of other men on her as she walked by, but she paid them no attention. Her ring finger nails were silver with red polka dots, and the rest of her nails were the same shade of red. "We also have dinner plans, and if you are late, I will find a way to kill you," she said, smiling at him. "I am getting all dressed up, and you are taking me to this fancy restaurant that's really hard to get into. I know you just made the call and got our reservation pushed up, but let's act like you aren't this powerful god of the underworld. Okay? Don't be late or you will be sleeping alone." She knew that last part would get his attention, and she also knew they had plenty of time before their dinner reservations.</s>

Walking through Afterlife made needle-like pricks crawl up Scarlett's arms as she entered the nightclub that marked the heart of Omega. Her heeled feet quickly clicked across the floor as she slipped between lines of people. The energy in the room slightly irritated the biotic implants that were spread throughout her body but it was something she had grown accustomed to considering she now lived in such a heavily populated area instead of at some reclusive Cerberus research facility. With every step she took forward, Scarlett knew that she was getting just that much closer to the new leader of Omega. Not even the countless Asari strippers could distract her from the state of mind she was currently in. She knew that she was in deep trouble if she wasn't able to convince The Boss that she knew where the stolen AI had been taken. Scarlett had managed to trade some favors with an old Cerberus colleague of hers, locating the system the AI program was taken too as well as identifying the Cerberus ship that had retrieved it. All she needed was a ship and team to get it back. Halting in front of the stairway that led up to where she needed to go, Scarlett waited for the Batarian guard to let her pass. The heavy base of the music vibrated her entire being, temporarily drowning out the thoughts that were racing through her mind. Fumbling with the data pad in her hand, Scarlett slowly made her way up the stairs as the Batarian waved her through. Standing nervously once at the top of the stairs, Scarlett quietly waited for the new ruler of Omega to address her, quietly tucking her brown hair behind her ear as her blue eyes remained fixed forward.

Suari sat behind her desk, her black body suit gleaming in the odd lighting, her pale skin looking even paler against the black suit and her long red hair in ponytails. She looked at the new girl. "You may close the door behind you and approach my desk."</s>

Shining like a jewel in the South-Western ocean is the great nation of An-Teng. A land rich in natural resources and blessed with great beauty, it was long ago humbled by the Dragon-Blooded. Now the Terrestrial Exalted see it as a sort of pleasure resort, an entire county of subdued servants hurrying to gratify their every wish. There are even (relatively safe) adventures to be enjoyed in the 'wild' parts of the country. Most businesses wouldn't even presume to charge one of the Dragons for their goods or services, choosing instead to send along a humble letter to the elders of household, requesting recompense. Ragara Corah Jor is dealing with such a letter right now. The daughter of the Satrap and an un-Exalted Tengense woman, she undoubtedly possesses beauty from both sides of her heritage. With skin darker than that of most from the Blessed Isle and the coal-black hair common to House Ragara, she presents a striking, exotic image. Her skin is flawless, appearing almost polished, and when at rest she becomes so still she might be mistaken for a statue. Such traits are a credit to her command and cultivation of the Essence of Earth. With her father traveling on business, it falls to her to manage the affairs of his household. Including the bill her younger sibling and his sworn brothers have racked up in the week he's been out 'enjoying the beauties of An-Teng'. With a sigh, she writes a missive authorizing the payment and seals the scroll with the mark of House Ragara. The hours tick away as she continues her work. A diplomat needs a particular phrase translated into Seatongue, work is progressing on a dam in the southern rivers, a group of heretics was rooted out for illegal worship of-- Corah jumps when a hand closes on her shoulder. One of her father's attendants bows humbly, informing her that the family's Exalted guest has arrived. With a nod, she rises from her seat, and hurries down to the entrance of the Manse to attend him.

Ragara Calel Gerron had always wanted to come to An-Teng. House Ragara had had its hand dipped into the wealth of this land for decades and as a model satrapy its reputation added to the House's. The stories of its opulence and its strange but wonderful culture only added to the allure. He waited patiently in the courtyard to the palace of the Satrap, looking about amiably. His entourage surrounded him, mortals mostly, with a few Exalted bodyguards. A cool breeze ran through the assembled, their cloaks and shawls rippling gently. It emanated from Gerron, a result of his puissant Essence, the object of years of intense meditation and hard work. Gerron stood with his hands folded behind his back, his white robes swaying with the winds he generated. His skin was a bluish-white and cool to the touch, like that of a man who had just showered. His grey hair and his silver eyes stood out even more, unnaturally shaded as they were. At a glance one could tell that here stood a Prince of the Earth and act accordingly. A servant of the estate approached and bowed deeply, almost folding at the waist. "The Honourable Ragara Corah Jor is here to welcome you, Great Lord." Gerron smiled and walked forward as his Tengese cousin arrived. He beamed, opening his arms. "Cousin Corah!" He exclaimed. "It has been a very long time." He raised his eyebrows appreciatively, looking her up and down. "You have grown to be a beautiful woman, Cousin." He reached forward to clasp her hands with his. "It is wonderful to see you again."</s>

Peter woke up to the incessant sound of his alarm clock beeping. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up, groaning. "Oh man, why did I have to have class today?" When he finally came to, he reached over to instinctively shut the stupid alarm clock off, but all he felt was air, not the familiar feeling of his wooden nightstand. That was odd. He looked around and saw not the familiar sight of his desk or computer, not the posters he had tacked on his walls, or even the pictures he had around the room. All he saw was the plain white color of his dorm-room ceiling, then he looked down and saw his bed and everything else, "Oh man, not again!" He had come back to the dorm so late last night he hadn't even made it off of the ceiling before falling asleep. He looked at his hand and saw that he was still wearing his suit, wonderful. He crawled down from the ceiling and lay down on his bed, trying to ignore the alarm. "Five more minutes," he said to himself as he shut the alarm off of his clock. He finally fell asleep. When he woke up again in a jolt and looked at his clock, he was late!! "Oh man! Doctor Conners will kill me!" He jumped off of the bed and grabbed whatever clothes he could find, a pair of jeans, a green t-shirt and a red button down that he wore over it. He took the gloves off of his suit and put his web shooters in his backpack. He ruffled his brown hair and flew out the door to his dorm. Sometimes this hero gig really killed him, all of the constant swinging around and beating up bad guys was exhausting and for what? J. Jonah Jameson to print BS about him in the Daily Bugle?! Thanks to that nut case half of New York feared him a quarter of them wanted to kick his ass (mainly cops who didn't like him) and the rest... well he figured they were undecided. What was even worse was that he worked for said nut case taking pictures of Spider-Man in action or in J.J.'s words, 'Cathing him red handed in the act!' Sometimes he wondered why he still even did this job, but everytime he does the same six words his uncle said to him before he died ring like church bells in his head. 'With great power, comes great responsibility.' After last night though he knew things were about to turn south even more, so his responsibility was now on double time, thanks to a theif he just missed robbing a jewelry store. It was fast and efficient, whoever they were knew what they were doing and that made Peter think that there were about to be more of these. When he was out of his dorm building he sprinted across campus, his super speed and agility helping greatly, and he skidded to a halt at the front door to the Natural Sciences building. He fast walked to Dr. Connors classroom and silently opened the door and tried to sneak to a seat in the very back, but Dr. Connors stopped his lecture to welcome Peter with, "Why Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us! I hope sleeping in was worth it since you missed about half of my lecture. Get the notes from one of your fellow classmates, if they should be so willing as to do so." Peter hung his head and slunk over to his seat. He sat down and pulled out his notebook and began to take notes on the rest of his lecture. He tried to look around for anyone willing to give him their notes but he wasn't seeing any takers on that. "Great, what a fine start today!" He was going to have to beg Dr. Connors for his teaching notes after class. Unless someone would step up and help him out. He was doing so well here! It was an upper-level course and he was just a freshman. Dr. Connors was initially not very happy, like most of his upper-level professors, that the university allowed that kind of thinking - that Peter wouldn't be able to handle and drop it within a few weeks. Peter couldn't blame him. So he did his best to be on time, attentive, and to study hard for high-level classes, and up until now he was doing well, but surely now Dr. Connors was beginning to think that Peter couldn't handle the work. Fantastic!

"Well, I think that does it," Felicia said, peering into the mirror. She did the traditional female head tilt, looking at herself from all angles. It was a new day, and a new school, and she for one, felt like making a bit of effort. However, as she peered a bit closer into her reflection, she scowled. The dark circles were still under her eyes. She dabbed on a bit more concealer, smiling slightly. The tiredness she felt was worth the exhilaration of her side job. She glanced at a pearl bracelet upon her dresser, but resisted the urge to wear it. She couldn't risk being found out, not so soon after returning to New York. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Felicia grabbed her backpack, patted down her black skirt, and grabbing her keys and phone, sauntered out the door. An hour or so later, Felicia was more than a bit flustered. She was late for class, her first day. That was making a good impression. She groaned inwardly to herself, knowing she had to keep up the air of a simple student. 'If you want something, go for it 100%.' her fathers words rang in her head and she squared her shoulders. He was right, she wouldn't let this little bump mess up anything for her. Looking up, she could just see the tip of the school building just a few streets away. With a quickened pace, she strode forward, determined to do what she was best at, giving that 100 percent. As she neared the school, she saw another boy running across the lawn, and couldn't help but grin. At least she wasn't the only one who was late. Although, she was a special case, transferring into the school nearly a quarter of the way in. Yet, her finances were stable and her grades were good enough for the school to see past the strangeness of her sudden transfer in. "100 percent." She muttered, looking up at the large school before her. She could have gone to a different campus, one that was easier and more relaxed. Yet Felicia felt herself drawn to this particular school. Perhaps it was the grandeur of the building, or the complexion of the topics she was taking. Despite the reasons, here she stood. After taking a moment to soak it in, Felicia took the first step. She gave a tentative knock on the classroom door, opening the door with a soft squeak. She bit her lower lip for a moment as the attention focused on her. "Excuse me, are you perhaps Dr. Connors? " She asked tentatively, double checking a piece of paper her classes her marked on. "Yes? And might you be." He asked seemingly annoyed that she had interrupted his lecture. "Oh, Felicia Hardy, Sir. " She muttered the last part of the sentence, "I just transferred here, I hope the board informed you I would be joining this class." She continued, her gaze fixing itself on the teacher. "Ah, yes. I hope you know class started about an hour ago. Transfer or not, there is no excuse for tardiness. Isn't that right Mr. Parker?" Dr. Connors seemed amused by his joke. " Find a seat, and we can talk after class Mrs. Hardy." Felicia gave a curt nod, and readjusting her backpack found a seat just a row down and a few seats to the left of the "Mr. Parker." who Dr. Connors had mentioned. She vaugly wondered if he was the one she had seen earlier, sprinting across the grass. Giving a mental shrug, she got herself adjusted, mind already starting to wander to the jewelry store she planned on "visiting" soon.</s>

Anira tapped her foot on the floor, arms crossed as she rode the elevator up to the Enterprise. Her pointed ears stuck out through her hair, blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She then walked out the door, heading towards the bridge, wondering why the hell she had been resigned to some ship with a reckless captain. Sulu looked up from his chair, eyes widening a bit upon seeing who this girl was. He knew who this girl was - Anira Pike, daughter of Captain Pike, youngest to graduate from the academy. Kirk was elsewhere, and they were still waiting for Spock, so that made her in command of the bridge. "Good afternoon, Commander Pike," Sulu said, bowing his head. The rest turned and looked at her, before she nodded her head back to Sulu. "Thank you most kindly," she said, and made her way back to her station. She was covered in everything from commanding a ship all the way down to weapons; her father made sure she could take any station. There were some whisperings, but Anira ignored them as she went to work running a diagnostic search of the ship to see how things were in the mechanical department. One thing she had forgotten about was that Spock would be on this ship, on this mission with her. It was always hard putting two young Vulcans together, worse when one was female and the male was about to go through his Pon Farr, Anira knew nothing of this though, keeping on typing away. She kept working even as Kirk and Spock made their way onto the bridge, ignoring their presence. She didn't look back once as the Enterprise made its way from dock and took off at warp speed on its mission. "So I hear it's true, there is a Commander Pike on this bridge," Kirk spoke up. Anira turned in her chair and stood up, making her way over to Kirk. She nodded her head. "I am Anira Pike, daughter of former Captain Pike." Her hands rested behind her back.

When Commander S'chn T'gai Spock of the Star Fleet ship USS Enterprise entered the bridge, he wasn't expecting the utterly succulent smell to slam into his olfactory senses with all the force of a Klingon's punch. Reeling in his now wildly excited emotions and baser instincts, the half-Vulcan calmly searched around the bridge for the source of that tantalizing scent. When his dark mocha-tinted eyes landed on the spun gold hair of their newest addition, Rank Commander Pike, each small movement sending another wave of the alluring ambrosia twirled him Spock knew that he was doomed. His time was too close, and the new commander Pike smelled too irresistible for him to do anything but mentally claim her and plan the gruesome rank reduction of any rival male in the vicinity. Of course those thoughts were coming from his half-human side, and the more dark, preform Vulcan part of his psyche that was clamoring for attention, but Spock ruthlessly pushed them away to focus on what was happening around him. Seeing that it was his turn to introduce himself, Spock held up the Taa'l respectfully, greeting the commander in standard as he didn't trust what he would say in Vulcan to come out professional and detached. "Live long and prosper, miss Pike," he said. "I am Spock."</s>

"Who would have thought the afterlife would be like this?" Shigeru muses, surprised that there was something beyond his death. He was never one to believe in religion, and if he did, he assumed his fate would lead him to some sort of demented and torturous realm where he would pay for being so tainted. But an apartment? Hell was depicted as fire and lava with demons coming after you, or an eternal cycle of rebirth into the harsh and cruel world. Of course this wasn't some sort of awakening or anything, just a sudden curiosity for what he had expected to be the end of his life. Not even ten seconds before opening his eyes to this room, he had been closing them as a semi-truck came barreling down on his taxi. There was no way for him to get out of the truck's path, and not enough time to unbuckle and get out. It was a joke really, Shigeru imagining his demise to be at the hands of some cop with a few lucky shots. But there was no end, simply this room. Looking out the large windows Shigeru saw the Tokyo Tower, thank goodness that he had somehow ended up in Tokyo. However when he went for the door latch his hand simply kept away. As if through magnetism his hand was being repelled by the latch... Hell, any door or window that could be opened his body was literally pushed away from whenever he tried to open it. What was going on? Shigeru was much more interested in this than scared by it, there really wasn't anything that scared him on this earth. Though he had never seen the giant black ball that was set in the center of one of the rooms. No holes or cracks, no signs or letters.. Shigeru was lost as to what was going on, even kicking the ball resulted in nothing happening. Piece of shit.. Shigeru mumbled. So the man was alone, no one in the apartment, no way out, and only a stupid ball in the middle of a room... Just great. However suddenly what looked like lasers shot out from the ball, Shigeru stepping back and looking to see what the lasers were doing. As if modeling something with layers the ball started to sketch out something. Moments going by before whatever the hell it was making turned into a human. It was quite the scene, skin, muscle, organs, even down to the food that was inside of the stomach.. Shigeru was able to see it all before the next layer and the next layer covered it up. What was left on the ground was a man with long black hair and sunglasses, wearing leather clothing like some sort of biker gang member. The man grumbling softly as he laid there, taking a few moments before sitting up. Where the fuck am I? The man asked, looking around till Shigeru came into view. Not sure, showed up here no more than a few minutes ago. Shigeru answered, keeping his distance from the man that would sit up fully. Did you drag my- However before the man could continue the lasers cut across the room once more, the biker quickly scrambling out of the way. Again another human would come out from these lasers, only this time the man seemed to be falling in mid air. Looking to be in his mid twenties the man had a build that would match any kind of boxer or fighter. A look of shock on his face before he suddenly came into reality and fell to the ground. SHIT!! The man shouted, quickly getting up and moving to the side as if dodging something. His breath was heavy from shock as he started taking in the room, Where the fuck am I? He asked, looking at the two others that were in the room as well. Shigeru simply looked at him with his eyebrow raised, not really answering the question. Some asshole bumped me or pushed me and I know I was going to get hit by a bus but then I showed up here. The newcomer stated, the biker practically pressed against the wall on the other side of the room. You almost died. And I am assuming you did as well? Shigeru asked, standing next to the big black ball. I did too, or I should have. But woke up here as well. He added, the two obviously starting to get up to try and leave. Windows didn't work, doors didn't work. The newcomer was smart enough to try his cell phone but it didn't work either. We are trapped in here, don't know why. Shigeru would shout out softly as the two seemed a little more frantic than shocked by the situation. No need to freak out... Fuck you! The biker shouted back, starting to ram himself against a door. However, his shoulder never seemed to make contact with the wood. "Not believing in this supernatural shit!" he shouted again, doing it a few more times before giving up. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!? He would shout, Shigeru rolling his eyes as he went to look back at the ball. This was obviously controlling whatever the hell was going on right now, where did it come from? Ten minutes would go by and nothing else seemed to come out of the ball. The three men coming together in the same room, sitting against their respective walls and looking from one another. The biker had calmed down now, being the first to actually try and talk. What are your guys's names? Mine is Takeo. The biker stated, looking to Shigeru who kept his eyes on the ball. Kiyoshi... The fighter said, looking out the window right now at the Tokyo Tower that loomed in the distance. And you?" Takeo asked, looking to Shigeru who still seemed to pay him no mind. "I asked you a fucking question kid," Takeo stated, getting Shigeru's attention. It was somewhat scary the way Shigeru looked at Takeo, as if for even drawing his attention that Shigeru would rip his throat out. It was an intimidating stare that Takeo had seen plenty of times from thugs and the like.. But never from someone unprovoked... What the hell was this kid's problem? Shigeru looked back to Takeo. "Right, so we all almost died or did die I don't fucking know. But we are here and can't get out.. Any ideas why?" Takeo asked, though all three of them would turn and look to the other room as more lasers shot out. There would be more people? And indeed there would be. Before long there was a good eight people in the room. An older couple, a guy in a lab coat, a construction worker, and a teenage girl who looked to be all dolled up for the night. It was actually getting quite annoying for Shigeru to hear people freak out and then try to escape, only to get defensive and accuse people in the room. Luckily it seemed that Takeo was more sociable then what was expected of gangsters and did his best to calm people down, even though he would curse part of the time to do so. "Alright look. It is obvious that we are all being brought to this room by this thing." Takeo stated, pointing to the ball. "I am pretty sure that each of us was on the verge of dying. I don't know how this is possible but the facts are that we are alive, that we can't leave this room, and none of our electronics seem to work. Any one know anything about this ball or hear anything about a similar situation? Because I know I haven't." Takeo said, everyone had pretty much joined the small forming circle around the ball people stating their own ideas but no one really seemed to have a believable answer. And what was worse was that there was no clock, no way to tell if there was a timer. What were they waiting for? They were obviously placed here for a reason.

Life is so much fun. She was expecting a baby sister soon, the holidays were coming, and Namco was releasing a new installment of their popular shooter arcade game, Thousand Guns III. These were all things that made teenage years enjoyable for Maki. Of course, it's not all fun and games; there are also hardships here and there. Her grades were falling, not drastically, but enough to get her in trouble with teachers and parents. The boy she liked had just confessed his love to a senpai, and her video game console was breaking down. Then there's the fact that she just died. It happened slowly, but she wasn't afraid. It was like the knowledge that you just lost in a video game and don't have any extra quarters. It was bad, but there is a sense of helplessness that made it easier to accept. After all, there's not much she can do. Then came the room. First came the sounds, as she heard the voices of men, long after she stopped hearing everything else. Then came light, seen through her eyelids. Last came the sense of touch as her skin felt the texture of the floor under her, different from the alley where she died. The girl is young, a petite figure decorated by large round tits, the biggest in her class. She has a girlish face framed by medium-length brown hair, which flows down her cheeks - she read in a magazine once that it would make her face look slimmer. "I...I'm alive?" she asked, touching her sides where she had been stabbed, her skirt pulled up her thigh as she twisted her body. "Did you...did you save me?" she asked, looking around at the older men. Then realization dawned on her that they might not be saviors at all. "Where is this?!" she asked in panic, crawling away towards the black ball, trying to place something behind her back. "I..i want to go home!" Before anyone gets the chance to answer, the ball buzzes and lasers shoot out of it once more, causing Maki to yelp in surprise. The person incoming is a woman, first they saw her blonde hair, then her pretty face, but it was twisted in pure bliss. The woman didn't appear layer by layer, but was created from the top down, and she was very..animated. Sultry lips formed an O as she rocked up and down violently, moaning deeply. "So BIG!" she howled as beads of sweat poured down her forehead. Soon her body came into view, naked save for the sexy red lingerie she was wearing, her tits bouncing up and down. It was easy to figure out now that she is in the middle of having sex..and by the look of it, she was on top of a very lucky guy. The guy in question appeared soon enough once the laser reached the bottom. First his hand showed up on the woman's waist, holding them firmly with thick black fingers. Then his head, a bald masculine face with trimmed facial hair. He was on TV alot, a famous K1 fighter. "Oooh Luna baby! Ride me harder!" he yelled, slapping her ass, ignoring the crowd. Once they were fully teleported, the couple slowed down their fucking, just enough to look at the others. "Ah..newcomers..Welcome" Luna Gold, famous porn actress said, her man's cock still inside her as she gyrated her hips slowly, putting on a show.</s>

Bruce was out on official league business, which meant that Gotham was Dick's. Nightwing stood on the perch of the gargoyle overlooking the city. It had been quiet for the first two nights, but nothing lasts forever. It was at that moment, he noticed fireworks launching from Amusement Mile. His binoculars showed thugs dressed in red and black argyle suits. "Harley's idea of a trap no doubt," Dick muttered to himself as he swung into action, speeding past landmarks with his bat grapple. He finally landed near the factory, where he was met by some goons. He made quick work of them with his stun baton and acrobatics. He brushed off a couple of loose teeth from his shoulder and then readied himself in position. "Who's next?" he called out, waiting for an answer.

Harley had set off her signal, now all she had to do was sit back and wait. With cameras everywhere, she could easily see right when Nightwing showed up, a smirk playing across her face. She'd show them a woman's wrath. Sighing, she looked over at a picture of Joker on the wall, putting her hand against it. "Oh Puddin'," she said, "that Bat'll pay...". She got up as soon as she noticed that Nightwing had taken out her goons. Immediately, she opened up the factory for him, and a laugh could be heard over the comm system. "Well, look who we have here? Think you can make it through to me, Bird Brain?" she asked with a tease, then laughed again. As soon as the laughter ended, a few more thugs appeared, all in red and black and ready to take him on.</s>

The paparazzi had gathered outside Club Vampyre in force. News had already started to spread far and wide: the new establishment was to be the newest, hottest club of its kind. Already buzz had been generated: the hottest DJs would open, the sexiest celebrities would be there to hang out; the waiting list required favors and if you had to ask, you weren't on it. There were darker rumors too, something about the owners picking the name on purpose. It wasn't just to play on the recent fad, oh no, there was something more sinister at hand. Most said it involved cooking books and taking bribes, possibly some drug money. But there were a few that insisted that the club was some kind of front. Not for vampires; that was just silly, but instead for a cult or some other dark, shady organization. Criminals, perhaps. None of this dissuaded people from showing. Hundreds were there, most of them the elite from across the world. Several dignitaries were present, mostly hiding among the crowd, nearly every popular singer who wasn't completely wrapped up in a pristine image was there (and some that weren't). A handful of A-list celebrities were also present, milling about. Among them was Miss Mila Kunis. Recently voted as the sexiest woman on the planet, and recently getting something resembling an actual career, Mila drew attention. To her credit, she'd tried to play it down, not wanting to look flashy or attract too much attention. Still, she wore a short, dark denim skirt of the highest quality and a loose, sleeveless blouse. Both worked wonders at showing the golden skin of the beauty beneath, that near flawless complexion and the combined effort of excellent genetics and hours of training and labor. The beautiful, mismatched, almond eyes were darkly lined, encouraging those to look and hold gaze. Otherwise, makeup had been sparse, enhancing the complexion without overwhelming. Dark brown hair fell loose over the bared shoulders, allowing some coverage. Though the top did cover most of Mila's front, only leaving the back and perhaps a few tantalizing bits of side-breast for the viewing audience. Her ass looked as fantastic as expected, and the beauty looked every inch the scrumptious treat she was. Said treat had been partying for a while, having entered at the right time and actually starting dancing. Her heels did make it a little difficult, but Mila adapted. She was also fortunate to be one of the few that looked better after a little exertion; sweat made her golden skin seem to glisten and shimmer, and the thrill of moving lit her further. She'd danced with friends and strangers for some time. Only a few drinks though; Mila had never been one to overindulge. Still, she was feeling slightly buzzed, likely a combination of the strenuous movement and the alcohol in her system. The beauty excused herself from present company, sliding through the crowd and only touching a few. Several people offered smiles and offers of further time, but Mila politely declined, all the while pointing toward her eventual destination. Soon enough, she was leaving behind the overheated club, entering the cool air, feeling it kiss her heated skin. The starlet took a deep breath, closing her eyes and tilting her head upward. She felt the overhead lights kiss her skin, and heard the muted thumping beat from behind her. Everything felt in place and she felt at peace. Mila took several deep breaths, letting herself gather. She'd enter the club soon enough; it wasn't like there were people out here to worry about. Most of the paparazzi were hiding inside, or had simply been paid off. She could enjoy the semi-quiet for the time being, at least.

Ruby had been hired weeks before the club had opened, she was one of the hottest and well-known DJs in the world, and as the club owner said, she was perfect for opening night. The club filled up quickly with A-list celebrities, the music was bumping through the speakers, and the light show was amazing. Ruby had helped set up a lot of stuff for the opening night and, as she looked around the place, she was quite happy with her work. She stood behind her turntables and other sound equipment, holding her headphones up to her ear while mixing and mashing up the music that was playing. Looking out to the crowd, Ruby could see many women who caught her interest. She had gotten a few offers and even a few drinks bought for her, but none of the women who approached her caught her interest much. Ruby was good at letting people down easy. Just looking at the woman and seeing how they acted, no one would suspect her to be a predator. With the way she refused to do anything outside or that involved going outside during the day, how she was mostly seen during late-night hours, how she never sweated, and how her body always seemed to be cold even in the hottest places. As Ruby kicked up another song, she spotted the woman on the floor, she was perfect, and Ruby had been a fan of hers for years. Mila looked good as she moved around on the dancefloor, and Ruby couldn't keep her eyes off of her. She watched the woman from her spot behind the turntables for a while before her eyes followed Mila out the door of the club. Ruby waved over one of the other DJs in house and told him to take over for her for a few minutes. She made her way through the crowd, allowing a few pictures to be taken as she moved through the people. When she got outside, she turned to look at Mila, the woman looked simply amazing underneath the overhead lights. Ruby lit a cigarette and took a long drag off of it before finally speaking: "Had enough already mate?" she asked in her thick Australian accent. Her cold gray eyes looked Mila up and down blatantly as she waited for an answer.</s>

Rocket sat on her bed waiting for Sweat Pea to return from her dance class. She knew she would be punished for not attending but Rocket didn't care, she was sick of it. Sick of this place, sick of being sold off to perverted old men damn near every night and most of all she was sick of Blue. The man had no respect for anyone and he treated all the girls in the place like trash. When the door to her room opened Rocket looked up from the book she was reading and saw her sister standing at the end of her bed. "You know Blue's gonna kill you if he finds out you skipped class again," Sweet Pea stated before crossing her arms across her chest. "I don't give a shit what Blue does anymore, he can go fuck himself," Rocket said through gritted teeth. "Rocket, jeez keep your voice down... I know you hate it here, but honestly where else can we go? Blue, as fucked up as he is, he's putting a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs." Sweet Pea said as she sat down next to her sister and put an arm around her. "Yeah, but he also whores us out to make money for himself," Rocket snapped before shrugging her sister's arm from her shoulders and burying her face back into her book. Sweet Pea tried to talk to Rocket, but got no response from her. Rocket was fed up and was in no mood to be lectured by anyone. She was going to do as she pleased, and if Blue wanted to try and kill her so be it - anything would be better than living in this hellhole.

Alexandra Miles was a young girl, her face alone said she was too young to be in a brothel. No one wanted to deal with the street rat, and although a brothel did not sound like a glamorous life, given what she knew about them, it was better than trying to get food out of a dumpster. Alex didn't know the name of the man who had brought her in but he had a very smooth voice, and hadn't been shy on testing Alex out prior to delivering her. It had been a very messed-up evening for her and she was still sore from it. Plus, the one man wasn't the only one to work her over; three more fiends of his had repeated the action after he had finished. None had used protection or even bothered to clean her up after, in fact, standing there in front of everyone, her hair was still messed up and matted with cum. Blue smiled as he pulled the girl aside, thanking the men for the new girl. She spat angrily at Blue, who simply slapped her across the face. He had no respect for the women who were the reason his club did so well, and would have no problem getting rid of them, blinded by his success unaware that he needed the girl more than they needed him. "Girls, meet Alex, one of you clean her up," he said coldly, tossing the girl into the room and letting her fend for herself. One thing Blue did know was how new girls were treated; one would step forward and be kind while every one else would be disgusted by fresh meat.</s>

Jack was young, it was obvious by her appearance and her attitude. That was especially true with how playful she was, how she bit Miranda's hand and even how she got slightly irritated by being referred to as the "little spoon." It was adorable and Miranda couldn't help but smile just thinking about it. She wasn't that way, sure she could be playful but she enjoyed teasing and pushing buttons to see outward displays and she wasn't nearly as natural at doing so. Of course that playfulness in Jack kept her on her toes, she was constantly smiling and having to react to the little gestures that kept the mood between them light. She was thankful for that, thankful that her cute lover was able to keep Miranda's own serious nature from coming out too often. Not that it wasn't there, behind the cute and caring Miranda that had been poking its head out there was still the serious and competent woman, a career woman who knew how to take care of herself. That was a side of her that would never go away. Thinking about it that was a good thing though, Miranda needed a side of herself that was responsible and clearheaded, without that she would end up laying in bed all day. Not to mention one of them needed that side. She knew enough about Jack's history and seen little glimpses of what was beneath the surface to know she was more of a young girl than people saw her as. She was just as young, if not younger, emotionally as her appearance made her seem. She was experienced sexually of course but as far as emotional stability and life experience Miranda had many years on her. Of course all of that seemed to combined perfectly when she thought about it, especially when Jack began to express her little bit of concern, it was something Miranda's experience and age allowed her to deal with easily. "First off, Jack," Miranda says, "I've never had men give me anything. I take care of myself and I do it quite easily. And Jack, you're not a fuck-up; I give you a hard time but when it comes down to it, you know how to take care of things in your own way and you are quite reliable." She smiles gently and kisses Jack gently. "Besides, you don't have to worry about that, as a cradle robber, I'll be the one taking care of you. I'm capable and I want to take care of you, so let me be your Sugar Mama, as long as you can handle me being your pain in the ass for the foreseeable future..." That was all Miranda had on her mind, as long as Jack was alright with her being older, she was more than happy to have the young biotic as her lover, someone she would spend her time with. Yep, Jack with her mouth, her quirks, her dominant personality, Miranda wanted it all and with her tiny insecurity out of the way, she was ready to move forward. Of course, with that solved, she had to use her little form of playfulness once more, smirking as she leaned in and took one last kiss. "Goodnight, I love you, my adorable little spoon," she giggled as she turned Jack back into the little spoon position and wrapped her up tight, joyful as her eyes closed once more and she got as comfortable as she had ever been on that bed. Once she had settled in, and obeyed Jack's wish for her to stop talking about such things, she fell asleep rather easily. It was no wonder, she was exhausted, her endurance and natural healing abilities only took her so far, and she needed to rest. It was only made easier with Jack next to her, a level of comfort washing over her that exceeded the normal level, an at ease feeling lulling her to sleep. The happiness and comfort that she felt and which helped her fall asleep continued after she was slumbering, dreams coming to her that included the beautiful woman in her arms. Her and Jack together, kissing, relaxing next to one another on a vacation of sorts or perhaps just away from the conflict they face daily.

Jack growled as Miranda referred to her as the "little spoon," snapping her teeth at her once more. This girl really liked to push her buttons...Jack wouldn't have it any other way. She gave her lover another kiss before allowing herself to be rolled over and placed into the "little spoon" position. "I love you too, Pain in My Ass. Sweet dreams." She sighed a bit and tried to relax. "Little spoon, hmmph!" Well, at least Miranda was sweet. Jack felt a little bit better now that Miranda had said she wasn't a fuck-up. Although, Jack didn't really need anyone to take care of her or be a Sugar Mama, but the sentiment was nice. Her hand rested over Miranda's arm, idly stroking her soft skin as she began to drift off. She started listening to Miranda's breathing as it changed. Slow and deep. It was nice, relaxing. The feeling of Miranda's entire body pressed up against her back was phenomenal. As curvy as Miranda was, Jack knew that there was a layer of muscle underneath all of those sexy curves. It was enough to help Jack calm down. Those big brown eyes fluttered shut as she focused on the sound and feeling of Miranda breathing against her back. Don't fall asleep, maybe you can just doze for a little while. "Zero!" Get up! A gruff voice roused her from her sleep. Dr. Rascher hated this guy. He was such a dick. Brown eyes opened to see the bearded young doctor standing over her bed. He was a big guy...well...really big to a 10-year-old. Tall and a wall of muscle, he'd look like a guard if he wasn't always in his stupid white coat. Two guards stood on either side of him with guns already drawn and pointed at Subject Zero. They were unnecessary, the shock collar around her neck usually kept her from getting too uppity. Rascher just liked to fuck with her and try to scare her into obeying. Fuck you. She grumbled, rolling over and pulling the covers over her head. She didn't like being woken up for his stupid games. Jack began to stir, grumbling a little bit in her sleep. Her brow furrowed, her heart rate quickened. Her breathing was no longer slow and relaxed but quick and sharp. A sheen of sweat began to cover her body as she fidgeted in Miranda's arms. "Zero, you get up this instant!" He growled, wrapping his arms around her to yank her off the damn bed himself. He didn't like to use the shock collar like the other doctors did. It made Zero useless in the ring. He needed her working at peak performance today to try out a new drug he had synthesized and tested on several subjects for the past few weeks. The results looked promising, now it was time to try it on Zero. No! she wriggled in his grasp, kicking and screaming. She didn't want to fight, they couldn't make her, she just wanted to sleep. She fucking hated him, hated this place, hated these guards, most of all she hated this fucking shock collar that suppressed her biotics.</s>

John May was a 6'1 guy with golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes. He weighed about 210 pounds and he was twenty-one years old. He was athletic and strong...he had to be. He usually wore sunglasses over his eyes, and on the back of his neck there was a cut, it was nice and clean. It had originally been jagged and rough. He'd made it better over time. Before all this had happened he'd been a teacher. He'd never touched a gun in his life, and he'd never been athletic. He'd been a know-it-all yes, but he hadn't exactly been fit or healthy. When the first invasion happened, he barely managed to escape and over the first month he started to exercise daily. By the second month he'd gotten to look the way he was now. Handsome, strong, athletic, and about four years older then he was. At the moment he was walking through a field, glancing around every now and then. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, and a pistol tucked into his waist. He was heading back to his camp site with a new bag of supplies. He knew that the bitch would be waiting for him to get back. He really hated her, and the only reason he put up with her is because their chances of survival were better together. He'd almost gotten caught earlier today, it had been his own fault. He still blamed her.

Kallie Davis was busy washing out that ungrateful prick's clothes at their campsite, using a bucket of water from the nearby well at the old farm. At nineteen years old, she was a picture of health. Having been a nurse before the Souls had invaded, she kept her body healthy. Standing at about 5'5" and weighing 115 pounds, she was toned and lithe. Though she was slightly muscular, she was soft in all the right places, with full hips and ample chest. Long brownish red hair framed her heart-shaped face, at the moment pulled back into a messy bun. Pale grey-blue eyes watched her surroundings as she worked, the sun warming her tanned skin through her worn white tank top. A pistol rested at her side, within easy reach should she need to use it. Without thinking, she drew it when she heard his approach. An annoyed sigh left her lips as she saw him. "You're damn lucky I don't shoot first and ask questions later, asshole," she said.</s>

The Girl with Silver Hands How many years had it been? Upon waking up, I truly didn't know. By looking in the mirror, I had assumed not too long but the last time I had been awake, it was 1985, and the world was a much different place. Simply looking out the window, I knew it was 2013. Something was wrong. Time had passed. A lot of it. The last portable phone I owned was the size of a brick and now? People were walking around with cellular devices the size of cassette tapes. When I awoke, I was in distress. I was confused lost. I was in a private hospital, in my own room that only few people seemed to know of. I simply remember waking, and a nurse walking by and stopping dead in her tracks dead in awe. She cried in joy. She had been caring for me for 28 years. I was in shock. I had been asleep for nearly 3 decades, and I have not a single wrinkle to account for it. I should be well in my 50s, but nothing. I still looked like my young self. I couldn't understand it, and neither could she. All she could give me were two letters. One a discharge paper, another an anonymous sealed letter. Miraculously, it was an explanation. My past had come back to haunt me. Magic? It was back. The world was surely different, now. I had no friends or family. I had none of my old clothes, though that seemed to be a blessing in the new day and age. All I could do was start over. Start anew although really, I was starting over just to stroll right into my past. With a modern make-up, I looked nothing but a 2013 version of my old punk 1985 self. I was still dark, rather gothic, and especially pierced. Though, rather than my black hair, I decided to feed into the current color fad I had always loved red. Leather was still my favorite form of clothing. Despite the 80s having passed, I still ported a studded leather biker-inspired jacket, my classic highboots, and the none other leather gloves I constantly sported to hide my silver hands. Looking in the mirror now, I realized I was still a pirate at heart even among the Land Without Magic. It didn't take me long to build the courage to venture to this so called "Storybrooke". Just weeks after my awakening - I stepped foot onto my Harley DavidsonIron 883motorcycle and set off to my journey to Maine. In took several days, but I made it. I had crossed the city line. I had set foot directly into my past. So much of my past, I had no idea what was coming. I had been in town for barely two days before I learned of my ex-father's existence. Luckily, I had met up with an old friend, Little Red, or Ruby, who allowed me to stay at Granny's Inn until I figured out what I wanted to do in this little town. Little did she know, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to kill him. And I was going to do just that. A little bird told me that he frequented a small book and coffee shop downtown Storybrooke, so that was the first place I headed. Pulling up to the sidewalk next to the big glass windows, I parked my bike and headed into the shop. It was seemingly dead. Only a couple of people and one old man. It was him. Slowly peeling off my helmet, I calmly walked over to him. His head was buried in the daily newspaper - partially hiding the identity I sought for, but I didn't need confirmation. I knew by his hands, out of all things, that it was him. Stepping up next to the little round table, I slammed my helmet flat onto the table - ultimately startling the man and causing him to instantly look up at my tall, strong figure. I didn't look at him. Not right away. But as soon as I leaned my chin downward and let my cold silver eyes stare dead into his... the color in his face just drained. He knew who I was. He knew those desperate eyes. There was a long, brutal moment of silence before his quivering lips slowly parted - like he had seen a ghost. "Xe... Xenia?" "Was it worth it?" I whispered to him. A sharp, silent whisper escaped my plump pierced lips. All he could do was look at me with that unmistakable terrified look on his face. He knew it was over. He knew this was it. Before he could even form the words to answer me, I snapped for my helmet, gripping it firmly in my solid hands and launched the object right across the side of his face. The strike caused him to fly right off of his seat, but that wasn't all I had. "Was it worth it, old man!? Get up!" Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I pulled him up off the floor, only to strike him down again. "The price of my hands!?" I shouted in pure rage, hitting him once more. "The price of my broken heart?" I picked him up once more. "All out of greed!" Using the same weapon - an item designed to save a life - I struck him again. This time slamming the blood-smeared helmet right into his crotch. Finally, I rose my arm and helmet to finish his already crippled, bloody body off, but this time when I went to swing, I couldn't.

Storybrooke, Maine. An idyllic paradise of small-town America... or so it always seemed to me. Every day, I woke up, showered, shaved, then dressed in a pair of clean jeans and a button-down shirt - any design I pleased - before opening Books-A-Plenty. As I had done every day for what felt like forever. The people liked my shop; they liked that I always had the classics as well as the bestsellers. I even sold music and movies in the back. Made good money too. I owned the shop and the land it sat on outright, and I never needed to see Mr. Gold. Who, funnily enough, didn't mind me at all. In fact, he came into my shop every morning, read his paper (which I provided free of charge), drank his coffee, then went about his business. He even bought his books from me. I was one of the few in town who had an amiable relationship with Mr. Gold. Maybe it was because I owed him nothing, nor did I besmirch him behind his back. I was always polite and honest with him. I had no opinions about him at all. I had other things to worry about. Like this morning. I had to rearrange the whole children's section back into alphabetical order. Little... sorry, that's my OCD acting up. Anyway, so I was standing behind the counter going over the next week's order forms when she came in. I must admit, gothed-up biker chicks aren't really my thing, but I had never seen a woman with such purpose, ferocity, passion, or intensity. And yes, she looked really, really good in her red and leather. Even better than everyone's new favorite Emma Swan. Odd girl that one. But enough about her. I watched Xenia march right up to Mr. Gold. This drew many eyes, though most were ogling her already. It's odd, as there are so many truly beautiful women in this town, but we always get more. What drew every eye was when she slammed her helmet onto the table, catching Mr. Gold's attention. As she bent over him and whispered something, I knew there was going to be trouble. I dropped the clipboard. She whispered something else. I took a step forward. She decked him across the face with the helmet, knocking him out of the chair. I gripped the counter. She screamed at him and pulled him back up, cracking him another good one across the face. I vaulted the counter, landing lightly and moving on. She screamed hitting him again. I vaulted a customer and her table, not taking the time to go around her again, landing lightly. She landed a fourth hit, this one right into his crotch. This one made him scream. She reared back for another. "Miss, I can't allow you to beat him to death," I said, then gently but firmly took her arm, which I had already grabbed, and squeezed her forearm, pushing the helmet clear of her hand with ease, then spun under her arm and planted a hand on her chest, leg behind both of hers dropped her firmly onto the floor, then rolled her onto her chest, bringing her hands together. "Someone go get Sheriff Swan." I gently held the girl's hands. "Miss, I am going to have to restrain you until the sheriff arrives. I apologize, but you did assault Mr. Gold-" Now what happened next is hard to tell. I was suddenly in a forest. In the same position. Atop Xenia. Our eyes were locked, our lips barely three inches apart. My hair was much longer, and I had a sword and bow. For some reason. Our hair was over both of our faces. Then suddenly, I was back in my shop. I was still holding Xenia, and had somehow tied her hands with a bit of string, helping her sit up while I was out of it. I turned now to Mr. Gold, dodging his hands trying to fend me off, and pushing them aside easily. I gripped his face gently and opened his mouth. "Well, Mr. Gold, She dislocated your jaw, but broke no teeth or bones. You are certainly lucky. Though I doubt you feel that way." I got him to lay back as Emma came in and everyone began to shout explanations. I stood and shouted, "HEY!" Everyone shut up, and I pointed at Xenia. "She just nearly beat his skull in with her bike helmet. She seemed very agitated. I suspect she had good cause." Mr. Gold coughed and surprised me even more than Xenia trying to kill him. "I will not be pressing charges, Sheriff."</s>

Sora's life had returned to normal after everything had happened, he still kept in touch with all the new friends he made, but being on the island was amazing. Kairi was there, Rikku was back to normal. Things couldn't get better. They were all growing up and growing together. Especially Sora and Rikku, though Sora doubted that his best friend saw it the same way. Since they had come back to the island, Sora had begun to realize that he looked at Rikku differently - much differently. He found himself daydreaming about him and getting excited when he was close. It was all a bit confusing, he thought he wanted Kairi. In a way, he still did. But something about Rikku just got to him. Sora headed to the beach as he thought to himself. They'd just said goodbye to Kairi, who was leaving for a week-long vacation with her parents. It was just Sora and Riku for a whole week! It was like a dream. But he didn't know how well it would go. He knew that Rikku still wanted to drink like they did every weekend, but Sora was worried. He was very honest when drunk. Honest and horny. Normally it was pointed at Kairi, but with her not there with them there was only Rikku for him to be flirty with. But how would his best friend take that? He really didn't know and tried not to think of the possibilities as he waited for his best friend to show up with the bottles.

Riku was happy to be back to normal and being able to be with Kairi and Sora. He was a little upset when he found out Kairi was leaving for a week, but he quickly got over the thought when he realized it was a perfect time for him and Sora to have some guy time. He was hoping to have a good time drinking with just Sora, and he was curious about what would happen when his friend got drunk without Kairi around to flirt with. Riku always found it very entertaining to watch Sora flirting and telling everyone his feelings for Kairi. When he finally noticed the time, he threw on a shirt and picked up the bag of bottles before heading to Sora so they could start drinking. He had a few new and stronger drinks to try out, along with their usual drinks. "Sora, come get this bag," Riku called out as he walked up to his friend with a grin and an open beer bottle in his free hand. He had only taken one drink from it. "I have something new for you to try tonight; it's in the bag somewhere." He told Sora with a smile before sitting down and taking a swig of his beer.</s>

She had long lost track of the days, but it didn't really matter. It was just another prison... just another place to exist. Unlike her tower, however, which she had made to be so warm and cheery, this place was anything but. It was dark, and dank, and she could often hear screams and cries beyond her own room's walls. But she did not know what went on beyond them, and mother would not tell her. Mother had brought her here, though she had not given a reason why. And while this place made Rapunzel extremely anxious... she had no reason not to trust mother. Mother was all she had. And she was all mother had. And so she sat in her little room with its cheap and bare decor, wondering when they would once again return to her tower. For, as much as she had yearned to venture outside of it... she had never imagined this. She yearned for the sunshine, not the darkness. For Pascal, and her paintings, and her room. For the comforts of home that she had known all of her life. But she was beginning to think she would never see those things again. Sitting on her hard and lumpy mattress, she kicked her bare feet, playing with her hair absently. There was little else to do, admittedly, and she was beginning to go a bit stir-crazy. All there was to do was hum... so she did just that. Just to keep herself going.

After a few more minutes of silence, the wooden door to Rapunzel's cell opened up. "Ahhh my darling daughter!" Gothel greeted, approaching her sweet child with a small sway of her hips. "Goodness, I am so sorry to keep you locked away like this," she continued, "but the new queen... well, she is a very particular woman." She didn't like giving up Rapunzel to another woman, but it was either that or let Maleficent stick her head on a pike. Not a good option. "Ahh... This room is so dreary. It simply isn't fit for a child of your beauty." She took a seat beside the teenager on the bed and took a sniff of her majestic golden hair, while one hand roamed down to grab Rapunzel's own. "I might be able to get you a nicer room here. You just need to do as I say..." The attractive older woman said, a wicked smile crossing her face.</s>

Meg woke up in bed with her head on her boyfriend's chest. He was much more comfortable than her pillows, even if they were the best pillows money could buy. She looked around the lavish room and smiled brightly; three hundred and sixty-five days ago, they left Africa to come to America. Now the time has come for a change of venue. They were going back home to Greece or the Hellenic Republic, as it was called now. She was so excited she could hardly stand it. Even with only a few hours of sleep, she was bouncing around on the inside. Any normal person would be struck down with a massive hangover or wake up next to a toilet. She had that taken care of by her sweetheart. A quick touch of the head and she never got another hangover. Which was a major boost. She went out every weekend, she couldn't be struck down with such trivial things. She rolled out of bed carefully, so she didn't wake up her sleeping partner and went into her closet. It was every girl's dream closet - she was in the shoe closet, which was as big as a master bathroom, and the walls were covered in shoes except in the places where the doors were. She opened a door and it took her to a pocket universe that was her closet. All the new things were up front, and the deeper she went, the more historical the clothes were. Right now, she needed something to spark Hades appetite. She needed more clothes, and she knew the best way to get more clothes was to wear little to none when she asked for new clothes. She just had to find the right set. She found a pair of black thigh highs that would look good against her milky skin, then she found a purple corset with a black ribbon that went around the waist. Now she just had to find panties. She found a black silk pair of booty shorts and left the closet to get dressed. She teased her hair to make it appear fuller and put on a light purple lip gloss. After applying a little eye liner she got dressed and peeked into their room. Seeing Hades still asleep, she grabbed her crystal Louboutin heels and went into the kitchen. She pulled out the eggs and bacon and stuff for pancakes. She read the directions on the pancake box and it looked easy enough. She started to mix it together and smiled at herself. She rarely cooked because it never came out quite right, but every now and then she would try. She put butter in the pan and poured the batter in the pan. While that cooked on one side she grabbed her phone and started to text her friends in Greece. She wanted them all ready for her arrival so they could dance the night away. She was lost in the conversation with her friends and forgot to check her pancakes. When she did it was smoking, black and stuck to the pan. She looked up at the fire alarm and hoped it wouldn't go off like the last time. Hades was angry with her the last time it went off, he would know she wasn't paying attention to what she was cooking again. She put the pan in the sink and smiled when the cook came down. "I tried and I failed. Will you make Hades breakfast. The works. I need everything." She smiled sweetly and went back to typing away on her phone. The cook was used to being around Meg while she was half naked. She only really appeared when Meg wanted something to eat. She was good like that. It was no wonder why Hades kept the old woman alive so long, she was an expert cook and helped Meg not to burn the house down. In a half hour Meg had everything she needed for Hades's breakfast. She thanked Dolores and left with the tray of food. She walked into the bedroom and put the tray down on her side of the bed. She walked over to Hades side and rubbed his cheek. "Wakey, wakey dilectione mea (my heart)." She said softly and kissed his cheek. "Breakfast is waiting." Meg grew out of most of her flaws except one. She lacked patience. She knew how to get Hades up toot sweet but she if they started that they wouldn't stop and she would miss the night out with her friends. Boxer, Meg's French bulldog, pranced his way into the room and Meg picked him up. "Lets wake up daddy." She told him and set him on Hades chest. She started to kiss Hades cheek and Boxer went to the other cheek and started to lick. "If you wake up I'll get him to stop."

The life of partying, or the life of love? Everything started back in the ancient Greek times, and Hades couldn't be more happy about it. Pain and Panic had just reported that they had killed Hercules as instructed, and Hades saw fit to have a little celebration for himself. The little brat wouldn't be able to impede on his plans for total domination of Greece and Olympus anymore. He had a wonderful time drinking wine and messing around with the people of Greece, but then he met her. The god had decided to take a short rest in one of the forests surrounding the city, and heard a woman crying. Despite being the supposed evil god of the underworld, he had a soft spot for women, and followed the sound of crying until he saw Meg. Hades slowly but surely comforted her, and found out that her previous boyfriend had just ran off on her with another girl. That angered the god, but there was nothing he could do for her unless she did one little thing for him. With the promise of her soul, he told her that he could show her what real love is like, and would give her all that her heart desired. That was the start of their relationship, and it has been going strong ever since. Hades fell deeply in love with Meg after that, and they slowly started to enter into a more sexual relationship as he revealed more and more of his dominant side. He couldn't even imagine what his life would be like without her, and very nearly experienced it first hand. Meg was fifty at the time, and it made Hades start thinking more and more about the fact that she was getting older, and would die soon enough. It scared him to death, so he convinced her to let him make her immortal, so they could be together forever. Thankfully, she agreed to it, and he reverted her back to being thirty years old while also making her immortal just like him. Even after that, their relationship still was strong thanks to the changes of time giving them more and more to do with everything passing year. Now they were in the modern era, and both of them had changed a lot. Being a god, Hades always had a constant quest for power, and the modern era gave him more power than he ever thought possible. He was the owner of three of the most popular nightclubs in all of Greece, and the world for that matter. It not only gave him power to get his finger in the pie of politics, but gave him more money than one could shake a stick at. Even outdoing the richest person in the world by a total landslide. Of course, that meant he would absolutely spoil Meg, and give her everything and anything that she asked him for. Hades knew that she loved him for him, and not just for his money. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been together for as long as they have. Still, sometimes he would start thinking about what it would be like to start settling down with her, and perhaps start a family; however, every time he starts talking about it, Meg just shoots him down by saying that she wants to have a few more years to themselves. Despite his own wishes, he does agree with her that they can do a lot more things without kids than they can with. Hades was sleeping rather peacefully, but did stir a little when he felt Meg's body leaving him. It wasn't until he smelled breakfast, and felt both Meg and Boxer kissing and licking his cheeks. It all put a smile on his face "Alright, alright, you can stop licking me Boxer," he said, getting up and gently pushing the dog away from him. Hades stretched, and shook the sleep out of his eyes, so he could see what Meg was wearing. Needless to say, he was impressed, aroused, and already wondering how much this was going to cost him "Well now, either you decided to give me some morning wood so I could have a little morning fun, or you want me to buy you something," he looked down at the tray of food, and would have been rather impressed if he didn't already know it was made by Dolores "I'm going to assume it is the latter," he said, chuckling and giving her a kiss as well as a good slap on the ass.</s>

Eyes the color of frosted glass peered from beneath the errant strands of achromatic white hair that fell across the corner of his right eye as the lycan strode boldly through the halls of his kin and sought counsel among the gathered ranks of his kin who had found refuge in the ruins of the old keep on the fringe of Hjaalmarch. Bare-chested and clad with nothing but a great gauntlet of beaten iron that encased the entirety of his right arm, fastened securely in place by leather straps that crisscrossed the length of his torso, he lifted his iron-clad hand and gave a mighty push against the aged door that barred his way into the depths of the keep where the echoes of his kins laughter and speech emanated. The light of the torches cast a pale shadow across his narrow features and sought to further accentuate the almost imperceptible curl of his upper lip that lay bare the elongated teeth whose tips protruded half a fingertip beyond his bottom lip. Cross had spent far too much time in the most recent task laid upon him by the war council of his lupine brethren, clad in the filthy garb of humankind he had wandered the streets of a nearby town whose name the proud warrior had not even bothered to learn during his time spent amongst the commonfolk and sought to learn something... anything... about the movements of the forces of the Silver Hand and their armed forces this deep within the reach. Silence. Eyes from amidst the weathered warriors who guided the hand of Hiricine's Sons all turned in unison to gaze upon the form of Cross as he thrust wide the doors of the antechamber and basked in the silence and scent of his kin which reached him even amid the musty smell of the old keep. Icy orbs turned almost feral, the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly and he turned his head to gaze from each corner of the chamber to the other before settling his eyes upon the senior member of the order who sat seated in the center of the chamber. "There's something here, Harl," the lycan muttered beneath his breath, his words accentuated by a low growl that rumbled in the center of his chest and became trapped in his throat. "I can smell it... something not natural... one of those pink-skins," he would have finished with a few sniffs that seemed to catch the air around him. Though before the older warrior could muster an answer, he would have given a sharp wave of his hand. Slitted eyes would have drifted suspiciously to the dark-skinned woman who sat adjacent to one of the members of the feral brotherhood and he would have indicated her with an outstretched hand. There was something almost... primitive... ancient and powerful about the magic around here. It was so potent that he could almost taste it in the air. And there was something about her mannerisms... her unusual eyes and even the unique style of her hair that, had his primal mind been so focused upon the irritation that still clung to his thoughts, both at the prospect of a newcomer not-lycan in their midst and regarding the time spent in their cities, that he suspected he would have been quite consumed by her unusual appearance. "Leave us," he would have growled, though several amongst the gathering would have sought to protest. He would have silenced them with a stiff wave of his hand. "Curs! I said leave! I'll spare not a moments thought to any of your reasons that an outsider would be amongst these halls... leave me to decide her fate myself." He would have growled, eyes drifting to study her and her appearance from top to bottom... and times, perhaps, lingering a tad too long in some areas. "Speak, outlander," he would have muttered as those about him would have shouldered past him, "I am not long on patience..."

After the civil war between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials came to a simmer, Fort Snowhawk was taken over by a coven of necromancers. Tol'vir of the Dunes, the enigmatic high chief of Hircine's Sons, bid that his brothers commandeer the old structure and purge it of the necromancers. Many were lost in the battle which resulted in Hircine's Sons being routed. Since Fort Snowhawk was such a bottleneck between Morthal and Solitude, it was crucial that it be in their possession. It was then that Tol'vir bid his second in command, Theodane, to seek out a redguard mage named Ohm'mali Qun whose magical prowess was revered among the alteration community. She was young, however, experienced, and the tragedy she experienced fed her flame for vengeance. After her compensation was arranged, Ohmali single-handedly annulled the lives of every last necromancer that drew breath within the fort. From then on she was conscripted to aid the Sons in their attacks, offering healing and hindrance spells in tandem with their claws and fangs. Some months later, Ohmali was invited to attend an obligatory moot among the Sons. Tol'vir sent his missionaries to Markarth, Winterhold and Dawnstar, requesting the presence of his most revered ilk to share in his concern. Each arrived within three days of the missives being sent, all of different creeds and colors. One of the old werewolves, a wind-burnt and weathered Breton, ambled into the hold greeted by his kind with a clasp of the forearm. Though as a human he was wizened, the Breton was a powerhouse when barreling into an enemy on all fours. A litany of others joined in the mood -a barrel-chested, red-headed Nord, a set of twins and a platinum-blond Imperial woman whose mane was festooned with elegant, pressed glass pins fashioned to resembled nightshade. Inside of the atrium, the scent of steam-soaked meat permeated about the chamber. The Imperial woman sat in her mate's lap upon a refurbished Dwemer throne; they lovingly fondled each other, much to the chagrin of Theodane who grimaced in disgust. He quickly exchanged glances with Ohmali who stood still than a statue well across the room, her eyes as sharp and dark as the backbone of an ebony sword. As a pugilist, Theodane was uninterested in the trees of magic and 'sorcery'; in addition, there was something queerly off putting about this woman that chilled him to the proverbial bone. It was when Cross ambled in that Theodane began to panic. He came to learn all too quickly of Ohmali's temper and the virtually cataclysmic events that followed, thus, he sought to keep peace between the two parties. "Cross ...!" Theodane growled. He glanced at Tol'vir, who was draped in thick, colorful robes with the patterns of the Al'kir, as if asking permission to advance. Tol'vir said nothing and continued to smoke his pipe, giving Theodane reason to press on. "Still your tongue, you fool," he continued, "You've been gone a moon to long to be barking commands ... know your place." Ohmali simply raised one of her eyebrows, almost dramatically. "Your patience and its capacity are no concern of mine," she hissed, "I have come to grown close to your ilk over the passing months, but you ... you are no kin of mine. Sheath your fangs or, may the Fates bare witness, I will end you."</s>

Jacob sighed softly. As he waited for her... He hid around the corner of his girlfriend's apartment. His body, stealthily hidden by the shadows. Peering around the corner, from her kitchen to her front door. He smiled, as he heard the jingle of keys. Almost melodic, as he waited in anticipation. Finally, it took you long enough. Is what went through his head. As he could hear the sound of her unlocking the door. Soon, the door was open. And the tall, buxom blonde entered her apartment. As beautiful as ever. Her hair and clothes faintly wet with sweat. She must have just came back from the gym, on the ground floor. Back from another intense workout. Keeping those curves that he loved so much. As well as keeping her body toned for her work. Someone like her, always has to be ready for anything. With a sly smile, Jacob wondered if she was ready for this? She took in a sigh as she slammed the door behind her. Not caring about locking it. This was a relatively safe part of town any way. And besides, if anyone actually broke in, she can handle them right? She ran her hand through her blond hair, as she began to walk forward. Walking right past Jacob, and then setting her bag to the ground with a thud. She takes a long deep breath as she was ready to relax in her home. And relax on her well-deserved day off. As she tripped through her bag, taking out her things. Jacob slowly snuck behind her. Slowly reaching to grab her. She struggled, as he gripped her hands. Locking them crossed along her large chest. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of her sweat and perfume. Before twisting her around, and nearly slamming her against the wall. He was rough, not caring if he hurt her. Since she herself was tough, and even at times liked the pain. Soon enough she would see it was him. The second she stopped fighting his grip, and took a second too look. She could see his smile, the smile of a jokester, and the smile of a total dick for scaring her. "Hey there Sonya." He said, as if nothing was even wrong. He then let loose his firm grip. Releasing her arms. To quickly pull her and wrap his hands around her hips. He took another deep breath, taking in her scent. As he kissed up her neck. Quickly showing why he was here, and getting straight onto business. His great big smile still planted on his face, until he pressed his lips against hers. Kissing her firmly, and wrapping his tongue longingly around her own.

Sonya Blade entered her apartment after a successful few hours at her local gym. Her green yoga pants that gripped her tight rump and accentuated every curve of her, as well as her shortly cropped white tank top that too hugged her bosom tight was still damp with sweat. Jacob didn't seem to care about her scent, so she didn't worry too much about masking it other than her perfume. Jacob would be here soon so she might want to change. As she rifled through her bag, she was unaware of her equally skilled boyfriend opening and entering the apartment undetected. Though she could handle herself in most cases, her boyfriend was one of the few that knew exactly how to defeat her. Suddenly, she was wrangled by a stranger, she tried to lash out and kick but she was pinned so rapidly she didn't have any method of escape. She screamed a bit as she was shoved roughly into the wall, suddenly revealing who her assailant was. The dim light accentuated his soft features and shadowed the rigid ones. "You're a fucking asshole," she said in all seriousness as he loosened his grip and began kissing her, their tongues intertwined and she wrapped her arms around Jacobs neck, placing some of her weight on him knowing he could more than take it. "Most boyfriends just knock you know." she said playing with his hair.</s>

Erebor was not a joyful place to those who looked upon it from the outside. It was a Mountain that lived up to its nickname of The Lonely Mountain. The kings under the mountain held a job that few were strong enough to handle, and even fewer were willing to do. For the kings of Erebor, shepherded the souls of those lost to hardship and strife, to war and hunger and goblin attack, to accident and old age and murder, all of the souls that died went through the under gates of the mountain, greeted and ushered onto the next life to be judged by the Creator by the king. The people of Erebor adored their king. Each time a new heir would take up the heavy burden that came along with the crown, they gave their support and love. For such a job wore upon the soul of a person, the many woes of the lost people dragging at the many kings' sanity and happiness. Yet not once had a king of Erebor shirked their duty or tried to pass the crown to another before they could handle no more. Each time the line of Durin stepped forward to claim their crown and take up the task of escorting the dead to their rightful place. Such was the curse of the mountain. As much as his own people could show their support and loyalty, not everyone in Middle-earth held such views on the king of death. As such when a young prince named Thorin just barely of age took the crown from his ailing father, he was made aware of just how feared his position was to peoples outside of Erebor, how loathed and terrifying he became as the king of death. As much as his kin and friends tried to shield it from him, every time he dared to wander outside of the mountain he saw the fear, and the hatred. For he was the one who came to take their family away when they passed, and for that crime he was forever guilty and to be shunned. So King Thorin stopped leaving the mountain, he slowly lost the gleam of life in his eyes as the years of his service wore on. His hair was streaked with silver and his face was lined with an age he did not own; there was no joy in the king under the mountain, for he had no one to share the burden and no one willing to comfort him in the way only the one closest to his heart could. Thorin had given up finding his one when he took the crown, for who would want the king of death as a life mate? So his heart grew heavier and heavier in his chest with each passing day, and his vitality began to drain away. He was holding on, but his people could see his suffering, and knew he had not long to last. So they began to search for something to help their king that they so loved, something or someone to bring joy back into his life once more.

Balin had been the adviser and friend of the king since Thorin's grandfather, King Thror, had been king under the mountain. His heart ached for the suffering of the young king. The worries of his short years clearly showed on his face. Balin had watched his king slowly die right before his eyes and felt completely helpless to stop it. That was, until he remembered her. It happened one day when he and his brother Dwalin were discussing what they could do to help their friend. A messenger had come, bringing Balin a letter from their brother Kailin. Kailin lived in the Iron Hills as a fur trader and was asking permission to send his daughter Am'lia to Erebor to live for an indefinite amount of time. The brothers couldn't help but grin at the memory of a young dwarven prince chasing around the young fairy girl, begging for a feel of her "arkenstone" wings. This had gone on for about a month before her family returned to the iron hills. Of course, young Thorin didn't know that the only time you touch a fairy's wings is when they are injured, trying to injure them or during coitus. Balin smiled fondly, remembering his own life-mate Karana. She had been a half-fairy dwarrow and he quickly discovered the benefits of having a light and gentle touch... Dwalin brought him back to the present by suggesting that they invite Thorin to dinner the first night Am'lia was there, which wasn't unusual since the king usually had dinner with them when he wasn't drained from his daily activities. With these plans in mind, they quickly sent a message back to their youngest brother, informing him that they would be delighted to see their beloved niece again. She had always been a sweet child but they hadn't seen her since before she had become of age, for they were busy helping Thorin adjust to his new role as king and keeping him going ever since. Of course they really did look forward to seeing their niece, but if she could do anything to help their king it would be all the better. Balin had been waiting anxiously at the front gates of Erebor for the better part of the afternoon, today being the day when Am'lia should be arriving. He had not received word stating otherwise so she had to be coming. When his pacing had caused him to turn his back, he heard the distinctive neigh of a pony, followed by the cheery cry of "Uncle!" He turned with a smile and ran to greet his niece. She hadn't stepped foot in the door and yet the lonely mountain was slightly brighter place due to her presence. As the evening came, word of her arrival began to spread until whispers of a young, very beautiful woman reached the ears of the king.</s>

Tom awoke in his sleeping bag with a loud yawn, the sounds of nature stirring him from his sleep. He had been journeying across Kanto for a few weeks now, with his trusty Umbreon, Dusk, at his side, and his three other Pokmon. Mainly he was exploring and trying to make his team even more powerful for when he eventually worked up the courage to try and take on a Gym Leader or two, but the possibility of proving his adulthood to his parents by lasting so long on his own like this was also appealing. Something was a little off about this morning... Tom couldn't quite put his finger on it, but... Well, it was as if the air itself felt different. Oh well, probably just his imagination. Tom pulled his trousers on in a sleepy haze and got out of the tent, starting up a campfire so he could prepare some breakfast for himself and Dusk. "Oi... Dusk, it's breakfast time!" Tom called out.

Dusk's ears perked up when she heard Tom calling her. She opened her eyes and stretched her body, but quickly noticed something was different. She felt...bigger. She looked down at her paws, which were now shaped like human hands. Her small feral body was now the shape and design of a human female. Thin, with hourglass curves, large breasts, and a round rear. Everything about her was changed. She was confused and couldn't believe what had happened to her. "Tom!" She cried out, then immediately covered her mouth. She could speak like a human!? What was happening?! Dusk didn't know what to do or say from the shock and confusion.</s>

It was an early Alternian evening. The sun had just set, splashing colors over the budding night sky. The air was still warm from its harsh light, but the sea was gentle and cool. Stars twinkled and the moons glimmered down on a female troll slowly making her way down a beach. Aranea Serket had been expecting a quiet day of contemplation and wandering, just herself and her thoughts. It'd been a while since she'd been on the beach. It was nicer than she remembered, and the water was soothing and comforting against her bare feet. She really ought to come more often. The sea hadn't been the one to earn her ire. It was just the sea. A body of water without thoughts or feelings or ulterior motives. Just water moving as it always moved, slow, calm, unstoppable. It simply kept going, and if something was in its way, then it eventually simply pushed through it. Maybe she ought to be like the water. She should stop letting things stop her from flowing in the direction that she wanted to flow in. Aranea should just crush whatever tried to keep her from moving forward. Perhaps she was a little bitter. Just the tiniest bit. But honestly what did they expect of her. Her family had their legacy, each one was special in her own right. But Aranea, her specialty seemed to just be retelling the stories of people she knew. And she was tired of it. She didn't want to be the messenger girl, she wanted to be the message that was spread. She wanted trolls to know her name. Or at the very least, she wanted someone's attention. But she rarely had it unless she bribed her social group or forced her way into the conversation. Most of the time she could just sit in the background, observing, and everyone would be perfectly okay with that. But she wasn't. And it was so upsetting. So she took a break from their presence and went for a nice, long walk. She'd actually gotten herself fairly lost, but she couldn't bother herself to feel very worried. It was nicer, perhaps, to not know her way back. It would take her longer to get there and so she would have a great deal more time to calm down before she got there. If she wanted to go back. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she'd build a new hive here by the sea and spend her days with no one but the waves for company. And maybe a few gillbeasts.

Eridan suddenly appeared in the air and dropped down into what looked to be his hive/ship. His eyes were pure white, he wasn't in the mood to delude himself again, he knew he was dead. What was worse was he had just come back from being forcefully merged with an asshole that almost matched his own self hatred. It felt horrible, and they... he, weren't even arsed enough to end it themselves like Virska and Tav, it had to be a conversation with one of the thickest humans he had ever the displeasure to talk to. "Damn it," Eridan muttered with clenched fists. Looking around his old home, memories of his old life flood him, back when life was so much simpler, all he had to worry about was finding meals for Fef's lusus and coming up with ways to kill all the land dwellers. But those memories just lead back to Feferi, which of course lead to his biggest mistake. There is no words for how much Erdain wanted to take back that one moment. Lost in self-pity, he barely noticed when the open beach seemed to open up into half of his room. Looking up the sudden change did distract him for the more depressing thoughts. Cautious, the high blood slowly walked onto the sandy shore. It didn't take long before he noticed a very attractive troll sitting on the beach, she looked a bit like Virka. Mainly the horns and symbol really. "Who are you? What do you want?" He asked bluntly while getting closer, a visible sneer appearing when he saw Karkat's symbol below her chin, a very odd sight indeed.</s>

The glorious executioner spun his axes with great elegance, throwing them and catching them with great ease. His job was easy, and he loved it. Sometimes Draven got into a certain zone, and killing off his enemies became easier and easier. At the start, the brash champion found killing other champions too easy, and he would slip into a bit of a blur, hucking axes and catching them, listening to the sounds of cheering that may or may not have been present. His brother Darius took things a bit too seriously, but for Draven, it was all fun and games. One day, on the Fields of Justice, Draven was particularly in the zone. Things were almost too easy today, he could buy whatever he wanted, he could do whatever he wanted, and he could three-shot nearly whatever he wanted. The cheers were getting louder and louder, first the support died, then the tank, followed by their mage and jungler. Finally, just as their marksman was running away, a well placed Spinning Axe picked them off perfectly. Inside of his head, chants of Penta-kill were loud inside of his own head, and even the congratulations and the credit from his team were drowned out. From that sole act alone, the other team surrendered, and the thought of Draven's penta-kill stayed in his brain for quite awhile. Back at Noxus, there was a large party thrown for the marksman. There was food, singing, dancing, and people as far as the eye could see. Taking a seat on a large and ornate chair on a stage, a faceless announced announced that there was a big surprise waiting for him. . .

Ashe was a queen of Freljord, married to the mighty warrior Tryndamere, but even she was not exempt from the traditions of the League of Legends. Champions were celebrities in the league, gods even, and when one is so high off the ground, it's easy to lose yourself in excess and Hedonism. A pentakill fivesome is a tradition that caters to this hedonistic culture. If a champion gets a Pentakill during the game, he gets to fuck all his teammates. "Splendid Pentakill, Draven," the frost archer said, stepping into the room, followed by her three other teammates. "Especially when you finished off Ashe's husband," a red haired beauty added from behind, Miss Fortune has always been up for post-league sex, but she rarely gets to indulge in a pentakill fivesome, such a thing is rare indeed. Together, the four girls guided Draven to the master bedroom where each girl stripped to their lingerie, Ashe wearing a white bridal style one with thigh high and garters. Katarina's red lace two-piece hugged her slim figure tightly, Miss fortune was the least modest, wearing only a black thong, her breasts bouncing freely and Sona had an oriental style silk underwear. "Now..let's see if you can get a Quadra Kill in bed," Ashe said, kneeling in front of him, undoing his pants while the others watched in anticipation, hoping that he would be hung like a horse as the rumors said.</s>

Soft golden light poured out of the roof access door as it opened to reveal, not the dark stairway that it normally would have, but what appeared to be a tidy girl's bedroom being dimly illuminated by a desktop lamp. The silhouette of a young woman, framed by the glow, partially obscured the oddity, but not enough that any witnesses would fail to notice that the room's dimensions were easily four times the size that would be able to fit in the space provided by the little outcropping that constituted said access. Such facts didn't concern Inchuriel, though, mostly because she already knew there wouldn't be any witnesses, not yet anyway. Only one person would be here tonight besides her, and it was a few moments before he would arrive. She had foreseen it. It had taken quite a bit of time and effort to sort through the shattered mess that had become of the Great Pattern to find a time and place where she could meet the mortal that had piqued her interest through the memories of her host. Holly had been quite the fan of his, reading in wonder the articles that the various media printed about the mysterious masked man who swung through the air like an expert gymnast could only dream of doing on gossamer strands he seemed to conjure from nowhere. At times he struck quite the romantic figure, either saving damsels in distress or, if the Daily Bugle was to be believed, playing the dashing rogue in daring acts of skullduggery. Well, that's how Holly had interpreted it anyway and, because Holly was a part of her now, she couldn't help but think of him in that light as well. She knew better than to let that image intrude on reality though. She calmly stepped out onto the roof, closing the door behind her. Oddly, now that the door was closed, it was easier to make out her appearance. Despite the fact that they shared the same features, the long elegant raven hair and chestnut brown eyes set in a slender yet subtly heart-shaped face, Inchuriel left a much different impression than had Holly Masterson. Where Holly had been cheerful and bubbly, Inchuriel was poised and confident, always with a mysterious twinkle in her eye that seemed to say, "I know something you don't know." At first, the change had been a little unsettling for her family and friends, but eventually they had decided that it was simply a case of a girl finally maturing into adult hood. Well, the ones that hadn't simply started avoiding her had decided that anyway. With a couple minutes to go, Inchuriel meticulously smoothed out her skirt. She had purposefully selected subtly alluring yet unsuitably, even jarringly, mundane clothes to contrast against the scenery of a New York rooftop in the middle of the night. She wanted to leave an impression, wanted to make it so she would keep popping into his mind when it started to wander. So, she had chosen a short black skirt and a white tank top that emphasizes her rather slender form and and long legs that were covered up to the knee in white socks. The look was completed by a pair of simple black Mary Janes. Satisfied that her outfit was in order, she leaned back against the door with her arms crossed beneath her chest to wait for her 'guest'.

Three weeks had passed since Peter had donned his new suit - a fitting name for something that was so much more than just clothing. It was a mass of black that covered his form when on duty, with an elongated spider logo that seemed to pulse with energy. Small strands of white dotted the legs, creating a chaotic spread that made him look like a living nightmare. The suit had given him strength beyond anything he could have imagined, and he felt invincible. He couldn't quite recall how he obtained the suit - whether it was a crashing meteorite or a facility designed to help him recover - but he didn't care. He was able to take down petty thugs and stereotypical super villains with ease, and he knew that he would soon be facing greater challenges. But that didn't bother him; he was ready for whatever came next. The Daily Bugle continued to criticize him, but that wouldn't matter once he revealed his true identity to the world. In the meantime, he would continue to pose for photos that made him look good, even if he hated doing it. By tonight, he was ready to see where his skills could take him, willing and wishing to push himself even further. The second skin, symbiote, aid, whatever you wanted to call it, was influencing him without Peter even realizing it, as it did with anyone else it'd be associated with. Tonight, however, he was frustrated. The city was rather peaceful despite his searching, no muggers to defeat, rapists to stop or delusional megalomaniacs to thwart. It was just his luck - positive or negative luck is up for debate - that he landed on that rooftop, a somewhat stunning figure catching his eyes. Even without the suit he'd be paying attention, bored of being single, but with his more primal urges being urged on by the sight of a young, attractive woman. She was rather lovely, somewhat above average height with the kind of face that would drive men to extremes, a cheeky glimmer in her eye that let on she was aware of a joke only the most privileged would know. That wasn't all that caught his eye, however. It was the clothing. By herself in the middle of the city on an isolated rooftop, it was truly unique. The suicidal dressed much, much more reserved than her and she certainly didn't have the air of such a person - the opposite, someone wanting and waiting for someone specific. That was the most important thing, the kind of looks that would attract Peter Parker, the air of strength that would intrigue the symbiote. Landing on the rooftop with more grace than usual - the stick black webs the symbiote had an unlimited supply of were much easier to manipulate than his artificial webbing - Peter strode over to the girl, eyes flickering over her form under the mask. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this without company?" He asked, cocky tone he seemed to always have more obvious than usual.</s>

Winter and Summer. Cold and warmth. Death and life. Opposite concepts, right? Only technically. After all, some things thrive in Winter, others suffer. Some find joy in the silence and cold of Winter, others sadness in Summer warmth. Even the personifications of Winter and Summer aren't just Evil versus Good- far from it. Take the Winter Lady, draped in debauchery and lust half the time, coldness and death the rest. Take the Summer Lady, loving and gentle half the time, cruelty and pain the rest. Maeve, the aforementioned Winter Lady, was pretty much the most promiscuous of the Sidhe Courts, even taking mortal lovers most of the time. Take Aurora, the Summer Lady. Warm and kind, she could be even crueler than Maeve at times. Now wasn't one of those times- in fact, the two were talking. Friends wouldn't be right, but it's the closest we can think of. Aurora sighed and crossed her legs as she listened to Maeve's challenge, barely paying attention. "I'm sorry, what? You... Want me to have a competition with you?" She asked, finally settling on her appearance. Many Sidhe could change appearance, and as one of the strongest she often did so with ease. As of now, she was ginger with long hair in delicate, glowing tresses, vibrant skin that could catch the eyes of any with the slightest pulse, pleasantly skinny figure with five foot four inches of height on her.

Maeve couldn't have been a more perfect opposite to Aurora, her skin an almost translucent pale tinged with blue, her vibrant, ice blue hair cut in a short bob. Where Aurora chose a slightly provocative outfit that showcased her femininity, Maeve's choice of dress was downright vulgar. Everything was too tight and see-through, ripped in all the wrong places and cut to reveal rather than hide. "Competition?" Maeve asked, scoffing at the notion. She ran her hands down her scandalously clad body. "We both know you can never compete with all of this. But if you want to try, I'd be willing to let you. We fuck. First one to come loses. Loser submits to the most degrading sex acts the winner can devise." Maeve slid a hand down the front of her lycra hot pants, caressing the elegantly sculpted camel toe. "And it *will* be degrading. I plan to drag your high-class ass to the glory hole and make you take it from everyone who wants a piece of you. And not the classy glory hole with the nice carpet and the beverage service, the *nasty* one. Not that they know me there by name or anything."</s>

In the middle of the night, the oni princess Suzuka Hime had been turning in her sleep for a while now, though she had luckily not disturbed her beloved Kyo Enzan, who slept next to her. The two were engaged, set to be married within the next couple months, and Suzuka was very pleased to have such a man with her. As of late though, she had a few worries about the direction of their relationship, as she felt that they hadn't progressed all too much lately. For one, she still had somewhat of a complex about her flat chest, especially when she would compare to some of her friends. Since she was quite active with dance though, she had a very slim figure and wide hips that were quite mesmerizing when they were moving about. Still, she had a feeling that perhaps she wasn't all that entrancing to him, and they hadn't even had sex in the time they were together. It wasn't as though she was in a rush for that, but she was still wondering if Kyo did feel that way about her. She soon woke from her sleep, sitting up in bed as her dreams were being influenced by her worrying thoughts. She didn't wish to disturb Kyo about this, but she wasn't going to get to sleep like this. She slowly slipped from the bed, getting into her sandals and robe as she went to get some fresh air. Perhaps a little cool night air would be just what she needed to help calm herself. She felt silly for constantly worrying, especially when they had been together for so long. Perhaps it was just the fact that they would be married soon that raised all these questions.

Kyo slept soundly until he felt Suzuka stir and get up. Kyo was a young man of twenty years. He was a fit man who was six feet tall, possessed flame red hair that fell to the middle of his neck, and beautiful ice blue eyes. He was in a white tank top and black PJ bottoms as he slept. He looked up and saw Suzuka leave the room. He sighed. He loved her deeply, and thought for sure that she loved him as well. He was also sure she would "fill out" later on. But he loved her hips. Those gorgeous and sexy hips. Whenever they swayed, he had to fight back a tent in his pants. He stood up and followed her. When he followed her out to the balcony, he crept behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Something wrong, my sexy dancing princess?" He whispered softly, kissing her cheek.</s>

Classes were over for the day, and the normally snarky and crude Draco Malfoy made his way through the halls. He couldn't wait until he had the privacy of his room, so that he could chat with his girlfriend who was over in America. While Hogwarts frowned upon technology within their halls, Draco had smuggled in a computer that he had bought before the year started. The sole purpose was so that he could see his girlfriend's face and talk with her face-to-face. He missed her so much, and at times during the school year, he found himself spacing out and wondering just when he would see her again. Logging onto a Muggle application, he waited for her to log on as well.

Natalie logged onto a muggle application from a local cyber cafe, smiled when Draco popped up. She clicked on his name, opened the video chat window that launched a webcam. "Draco! Hello, my Slytherin prince," she said, smiling and waving at him. She was wearing his favorite outfit - a black dress with long sleeves and a high neckline - while no one was looking, she pulled out the chopsticks and let her hair fall around her shoulders. It had been a few weeks since they had last spoken, and she knew Hogwarts frowned upon technology. However, she was busy with her studies, having technically graduated early due to taking extra classes.</s>

Ashley Williams of the Alliance Marine Corps had thought her promotion to 2nd Lieutenant would finally get her assigned to a ship. She preferred the constant hustle and bustle of running around the galaxy with Shepard on the Normandy as opposed to the many boring ground operations she had been assigned to. Despite her impeccable service record, she had been more or less stuck on the ground: part of lingering punishment for her grandfather's surrender of the Shanxi garrison during the First Contact War. After almost two years of patrolling terrain that hardly ever saw any action, she was finally up for reassignment. Imagine her excitement when she found out that she was indeed going to be assigned to a ship! Though imagine her disappointment when she found out the ship was the Normandy SR-2; which had been grounded for the retrofit. Great now she got to play consultant rather than soldier. Brass had insisted that she would be a necessary part of the retrofit team, due to her time spent on the original Normandy. Didn't they keep schematics for things like that? Why the hell did she need to waste her time on a ship that was going to be kept in the docking bay for the next six months?! ButAhsley was a good soldier and always did as she was told. So here she was, trying her best not to complain as she meandered about the new Normandy. It was little consolation that Joker was around, he was the only person that the AI seemed to respond to and was part of the retrofit team as well. The pilot was fairly friendly; he and Ashley would often reminisce about their time served on the original Normandy. It was good to have a fellow soldier around, albeit one that could barely hold a gun; but at the end of the day he was still a marine like her. It wasn't like he was one of these eggheads she was surrounded by that constantly came around to ask her questions: Was the Weapons Bench 3 meters from the wall or 4 meters? Hell if she remembered something so trivial! With a sigh, Ashley made her way upwards towards the CIC to check on how they were coming along with the Galaxy Map. Perhaps the only nice thing about being stationed on a grounded ship was that she no longer had to keep her long, brown hair pulled back into a tight, regulation bun. It gave her a little more of a feminine appearance, which she secretly enjoyed. And she felt like all these Alliance nerds appreciated it as well; it seemed to make her less intimidating to them and more approachable. Maybe if she put her hair back up, they'd stop asking her so many stupid questions. Hmm Specialist Traynor. How are you coming along with fixing the private message terminal? Ashley tried to offer the Specialist a friendly smile. She could get so shy at times, the Lieutenant couldn't understand why.

Eating a slice of strawberry cheesecake on the GIC was certainly a practice frowned upon by the Alliance's rules and conventions. But, specialist Samantha Traynor was familiar with all the ins and outs of protocol. It was part of her job after all, and she knew every loophole in the book. Eating what and where she pleased was a-okay as long as the craft wasn't in active service, and the Normandy wouldn't be ready for months at this rate. And thank god there was a confections shop not too far from where the Normandy was docked. Samantha's fork took out another bite of cake and she promptly popped it into her mouth. It was one of the pleasures that this job brought her. The other great benefit was getting to work with- Specialist Traynor. How are you coming along with fixing the private message terminal? Ashley's voice almost made her choke on what she'd been eating, and the dark-skinned woman fumbled to keep hold of her fork. She turned and smiled nervously at her superior officer "A-ah, y-yes. I finished re-establishing the extra-net connection an hour ago, so it should work brand spanking new." Samantha said. She quickly realised she forgot to salute and promptly pressed a hand to her forehead...accidentally stabbing her forehead with her plastic spork. "Ow..." she grumbled as she awkwardly pulled her hand back. There was a good reason she was so nervous around Ashley Williams, and it could be summed up with the thoughts running through the specialist's head right now.'Ass ass ass ass. I would use your ass as a pillow. Ass.'</s>

It was just an average day for the people in Chicago, just another normal average day. The hospitals were even having a calm day, not a whole lot of people needed the emergency services, maybe that was why everyone noticed when the Ambulance came, with the half-naked young man inside. Some of them might even recognize him from video feed after the massive battle in Manhattan. It had gone worldwide, the story of the Avengers and the massive battle to protect the earth from alien invaders. Loki Laufeyson, Prince of the Frost Giants, traitor of Asgard, trickster god and would-be ruler of Midgaurd. He was in pitiful shape to say the least, though what he was doing back on Midgaurd was a mystery. Not even S.H.E.I.L.D or the Avengers knew he was there. No warning had been given that Loki had escaped, been released, or been banished. It was probably only luck that he wasn't in Manhattan, where the Avengers would lay down their own form of punishment. It was hard to look at the young God, who was so pale he was white, and not feel sorry for him. He was filthy, covered in dirt and muck, his hair was in dirty tangles around his shoulders. He had clearly not bathed in well over a week, though he didn't stink, thank goodness. He was missing his shirt, showing large bruises across his shoulders and back and belly. As if he had been letting someone hit him where it would hurt the most. The most shocking thing though, was the fact that he had clearly slit his own wrists, and they were still bleeding, as was his neck, where he had tried, and failed to slit that too. He was staring with blank eyes of emerald green... which was wrong. The one honest picture everyone had of Loki, his eyes had been a pale icy blue hadn't they? It took well over four hours to stabilize him. To get his heart beating properly. They'd had to resuscitate him three times, and every time he was conscious... he told them with a dead voice, to leave him alone so he could die in peace and finally pay for his crimes. It was clear to anyone who worked on him, that the rumors of Loki being bat-shit insane was true, and so when he was finally stable, he was moved into the high security mental ward, mostly because they weren't sure if he was a danger to others as well as himself. He woke slowly and sighed as he realized he wasn't in the depths of the endless abyss that he had expected to end up in when he died, and he wasn't in Hel either. Which meant he was not dead, and he had not paid for his crimes. ...where am I? he was expecting someone to be nearby, because he was lying on a bed, and his very sore wrists were chained tightly to the bed-handles. His chest, hips, and legs were strapped down too, making sure he couldn't even so much as twitch.It was just an average day for the people in Chicago, just another normal average day. The hospitals where even having a calm day, not a whole lot of people needed the emergency services, maybe that was why everyone noticed when the Ambulance came, with the half naked young man inside. Some of them might even recognize him from video feed after the massive battle in Manhattan. It had gone worldwide, the story of the Avengers and the massive battle to protect the earth from alien invaders. Loki Laufeyson, Prince of the Frost Giants, traitor of Asgard, trickster god and would be ruler of Midgaurd. He was in pitiful shape to say the least, though what he was doing back on Midgaurd was a mystery. Not even S.H.E.I.L.D or the Avengers knew he was there. No warning had been given that Loki had escaped, been released, or been banished. It was probably only luck that he wasn't in Manhattan, where the Avengers would lay down their own form of punishment. It was hard to look at the young God, who was so pale he was white, and not feel sorry for him. He was filthy, covered in dirt and muck, his hair was in dirty tangles around his shoulders. He had clearly not bathed in well over a week, though he didn't stink, thank goodness. He was missing his shirt, showing large bruises across his shoulders and back and belly. As if he had been letting someone hit him where it would hurt the most. The most shocking thing though, was the fact that he had clearly slit his own wrists, and they were still bleeding, as was his neck, where he had tried, and failed to slit that too. He was staring with blank eyes of emerald green... which was wrong. The one honest picture everyone had of Loki, his eyes had been a pale icy blue hadn't they? It took well over four hours to stabilize him. To get his heart beating properly. They'd had to resuscitate him three times, and every time he was conscious... he told them with a dead voice, to leave him alone so he could die in peace and finally pay for his crimes. It was clear to anyone who worked on him, that the rumors of Loki being bat-shit insane was true, and so when he was finally stable, he was moved into the high security mental ward, mostly because they weren't sure if he was a danger to others as well as himself. He woke slowly and sighed as he realized he wasn't in the depths of the endless abyss that he had expected to end up in when he died, and he wasn't in Hel either. Which meant he was not dead, and he had not paid for his crimes. ...where am I? he was expecting someone to be nearby, because he was laying on a bed, and his very sore wrists, where chained very tightly to the bed-handles. His chest, hips, and legs where strapped down too, making sure he couldn't even so much as twitch.

Chicago-.Elizabeth York whispered, her voice a whispery hint of power, as if she was more than human, but surely that wasn't possible. She sounded like she should have been doing porn movies or phone sex, with a voice of crushed velvet and power-laden whispers. Sitting on the floor, the psychiatrist looked too comfortable, sitting with her legs crossed on the floor, the woman looked like she was ready to just stay there as long as it took him to wake up. And she was. While she had her own patients, Elizabeth York was one of the few that had been given leave to do whatever she wanted. "Local hospital," she said, her voice softening slightly, stopping herself from saying his name, driven by instinct she didn't know where it came from, and hidden his identity from everyone but herself. She was renowned for being choosy, and while she worked for the hospital, the woman also had a private practice inside of it, only taking one case at a time, and choosing who she wanted to help. Extremely smart, she was probably one of the few people in Chicago who could give Loki - at least the Loki that had managed to outsmart most of the Avengers - a run for his money on pure intellect. And she knew who he was, and had made sure that anyone who had recognized him had been buried. Hidden him from both her own people and the Avengers, driven by a instinct she hadnt understood, only followed. She had long ago stopped questioning her sanity when she had the hunches, but it still worried her some that she had protected this man of all people. The mental ward of the city hospital, to be exact.</s>

This was, for lack of a better word, a waking nightmare. Between dealing with the stresses of working a ship run by a borderline schizophrenic commander, having to help assemble a crew of ragtag misfits, having the Illusive man breathing down her neck asking for progress reports, dealing with the looming threat of the Collectors and the Reapers...and now this business of her sister being found out by her dad...Well, it was becoming a little stressful for the Cerberus operative known as Miranda Lawson. She had been a designer baby, created by her father to be the 'perfect' daughter. And in many respects she was as close to the concept of perfection as one could be. There were few skills she couldn't pick up and learn, her brain functioned at a higher rate than that of a normal woman, and by human standards she was a very powerful biotic. But the stress and abuse she endured under her father was what led to her becoming a runaway. So Henry Lawson decided to repeat the process, creating a second 'perfect daughter' by the name of Oriana. Miranda had managed to take Oriana away when she was an infant, giving her to Cerberus so she could live a normal life.And she had, for the most part. Blissfully unaware of her origin, and the nefarious purpose behind her creation. And Miranda had worked hard to maintain this security of her younger sister, letting her have 19 peaceful years of life. But that was all to be undone now. The busty human sat behind her desk in her usual white catsuit, her dark hair tossed back and falling in waves down her back. For the past 15 minutes she had been deep in talk with her contact Niket, figuring out everything she could about the information leak that had Henry on her sisters tail. "I see. Thank you Niket, I'll get out there when I can. Ugh this whole thing is a nightmare, Oriana shouldn't be getting caught up in this." With a reserved sigh, Miranda ended the video call and leaned back in her chair "Crap...now I'll have to bring Shepard in on this. Assuming she'll help at all."

For whatever reason, Jack was Shepard's little pet project aboard the Normandy. Maybe it was because the soldier used to run with The Reds, a gang back on Earth, and therefore thought that she and Jack had something in common. Maybe it was because Shepard was some sort of Alliance girl scout that needed to save the galaxy one hopeless case at a time. Or maybe it was because they were both badasses and Shepard didn't want to hang out with crew members who couldn't hold their alcohol. It certainly wasn't because the Commander wanted to fuck; Jack had already made that offer on day one and Shepard had pussied out. Whatever. Her loss. So it was no surprise to her that Shepard had come down to her little hole in Engineering to have one of their talks. But tonight they weren't talking about their 'feelings' or their past - they were talking about the head Cerberus cheerleader: fucking Miranda Lawson. Jack still didn't know if she wanted to fuck the genetically engineered woman senseless or bash her head against the wall in an attempt to wipe that I-am-better-than-you smirk off her perfect little face. Miranda needs help and I need someone that can take out waves of enemies. Shepard sighed. Talking to Jack was like talking to a teenager sometimes - though she supposed that was a pretty accurate comparison. Even if Jack had had a normal life, she was still just a young woman. Toss in a lack of childhood and a fucked up life and the girl was nothing more than a soft, squishy child on the inside once all the rough layers were peeled away. Fine, I'll help. Jack spoke up after a long while. Well, maybe this would put her and Miranda on a more equal playing field. If Jack did the Operative a favor, maybe she'd stop being such an arrogant bitch around the younger biotic.</s>

Blood-bending; Korra should have known. But how could she have known? Tarlock hadn't given any indication that he'd learned the forbidden art, hadn't shown any of the signs. Korra knew about it, of course, thanks to Katara - nearly every water bender in the world knew about blood-bending. They also knew that it required a great deal of skill and that the act itself corrupted the soul, unbalancing the one who used it. Which, considering how Tarlock had looked at Korra when he'd used his bending on her, only made sense. The Avatar had been beaten. She knew it. She lay there, slumped against the cold floor of the truck, her eyes hidden behind a thick bandage. Ropes or chains or something bent her muscular form into a bow shape. Tarlock knew better than to leave a bender of Korra's power with any freedom of movement whatsoever. He'd even caught her long hair into the bindings somewhere. Korra couldn't see it, so she didn't know precisely how he'd tied it. It felt as though her hair had been pulled back to some kind of central knot, while other thick bindings wrapped about her muscular frame. Her normal garb still hung upon her athletic frame, though it had suffered at the hands of the mad water bender as well. The blue fabric and fur had been sliced, revealing the deep brown skin beneath. Korra could feel the air kissing parts of her abdomen, not to mention her bared forearms and bits of her leg. She tried to strain against the bindings several times, only to find them quite secure along her. All her straining did was thrust her chest out, though nobody was there to see the admittedly impressive chest stretching out the already straining clothing. Nor could they see the flexing of her rock hard ass as she turned. This is all my fault, Korra thought, pinching her eyes shut behind the blindfold. She could only hope that Mako or Bolin or Tenzin found the scene and thought through it all. Someone had to think that something was up with Tarlock. Really it was Korra's only choice, and that thought alone sent more chills down her spine. How long had she traveled? Korra couldn't tell. She'd lost all sense of time and direction. In this position, she couldn't even fully meditate or get in touch with her spiritual side. Time just crept onward and Korra kept working at the bindings that bent her into this unnatural shape. Then the rumbling stopped. Korra froze, listening intently. Footsteps crunched against the snow. Large ones? Like... an animal? There were more than one, Korra could tell that much. She didn't know what she'd do, considering her position, but she tensed her muscles anyway. A door swung open and Korra felt the blast of cold air hit her. Snow touched her bared skin, sucking her breath from her. Hands soon grappled with her, and she couldn't do more than squirm in their grasp. Korra entered frigid air, air that reminded her of home. Someone more accustomed to warmer climates might feel this chill more; for Korra, it felt almost like a Fall day. Still, she would have worn significantly more clothing during harsher weather. The wind bit into her exposed flesh, and soon Korra felt her body sink into snow. Footsteps sounded around her, and all the Avatar could do was twist in their general direction, straining her senses and hoping against hope that she could pick up something, anything that might give her even the slightest bit of hope.

Tarlock had won, no doubt about it, but in his victory he had overstepped. He had attacked the Avatar herself, and in his anger had unleashed the one weapon that would make him lose everything he had worked towards. Blood Bending - as much as he hated his brother and father for what they had done - was more than useful for dealing with people like Korra, but there was a bigger problem now. Korra knew his darkest secret, the thing that would ruin all he had ever worked to achieve, and all of his plans. He was planning to take over this city, but how could he do that if the Avatar was against him? Korra's interference had given Tarlock only one solution. He had to break her; he couldn't leave her in a cage for someone else to find or even kill her. If he did, he might succeed in taking the city for five or six years, but Korra would eventually speak through the next Avatar in the cycle and he would be found guilty of that crime as quickly as he did if he just left her to rot. No, Korra's will would have to be broken. She would have to become his puppet, both politically and personally. It wouldn't be an easy task; Korra was a strong-headed woman, in charge, and the most powerful bender in the world. He had done well to bind her as well as he had. The tough rope had done its job, even as he grappled with her bindings and tossed her out into the snow. Walking up to Korra, he lowered himself towards her level, bending his knees so that he could look down at her. His hand lifted the blindfold so that she could see where they were - Republic City was far away, next to a cabin, high up in the mountains. "Hello, Korra," he said, his tone angry and drenched in venom. He would have to cage her or do something to prevent her from bending almost constantly. Even so, she was alone, and Tarlock was not; Naga stood beside him, though only because he was forcing her to. One of his hands was clenched, working the large polar bear dog's blood as he stood over Korra. "You ruined everything, you little bitch," he said, letting out a long sigh. It was the truth, and even now he was spurned and angry because of it. He had to make her bend, break, and he had an idea about where he would start. "But no one will find us up here," he continued. "When they see all the damage to the emissary, they will assume that the equalists were behind the attack, and that we both have been taken by Amon's groupies. That is the story you will help me tell after I have pounded you into the ground so hard that not even the Avatar State will help you out of the ocean of pain and suffering you have caused yourself." Tarlock was angry but even so, he was going to enjoy what he had planned for Korra. Still, he wanted to revel in this, make her ask what he had planned, and he also just wanted to gloat and see her face as bound and helpless as she was. Turning around, he stepped on her bindings, forcing them to tighten and pull on her hair at the same time. He looked down at her face, expecting to see some pain as her pigtail was pulled on hard by his ropes. Forcing her neck to crane upwards, he said, "Just checking to make sure you're still secure. Can't have you breaking out, can we?"</s>

Ami had it in her mind that she was going to find herself a Ninetales and she was going to breed it like nobody's business. Ami was well-known for being one of the best and most well-known breeders of almost all Pokmon. Sure, she'd bred thousands already; now she wanted to breed a Ninetales. She had heard that there was a feral Ninetales somewhere around this location. Ami had seen this Ninetales once since she came out in this location a long time ago when she first started to become a world-renowned Pokmon breeder. She smiled as she sneaked around within the thickly covered forest that had soon enveloped her. Sure, Ami knew the area pretty well; she had lived here as a child. But Ami felt beyond sure of herself. "I'm going to find you...and catch you," she said softly to herself or maybe to the Ninetales that was nowhere to be seen. She smiled to herself, looking at the ground to see if she could spot any signs of tracks from the Ninetales she knew lived in this area.

It had been a little while since someone had strayed into his territory, but largely speaking, it all ended the same way. He scared them off with some growling and a supposed aggressive nature, only for them to occasionally come back with some others for him to scare off just the same. None of them were quite a match, none of them posed an actual perceived threat to him... life went on, simply speaking. Though, in honesty, it had been a little while longer still since he'd seen a female; normally it was males that came around. Letting his crimson red eyes gaze over the female's form, a few tails gave a somewhat interested flick behind him. So, feeling little need to waste any time in particular before likely scaring off yet another human in his little territory, the Ninetales pounced. Straight for the girl's back he went, intending merely to knock her down and stand over her with a slight growl, his tails nonetheless occasionally brushing against the female's legs.</s>

Rain. Raining. Drizzling. Pouring. It would seem more than normal to see lightning strike down during a storm, or during a sort of heavy raining day. Not in this case, though; in this case it was a quiet evening, an unusually quiet evening, with no crickets chirping, no cats yowling nor mewling, not even the sounds of fornication within the city of 'sin' known as Daten City. No clouds hung over the sky, nothing was keeping the light of the moon hidden away. Everything was seen, the trees, the empty streets, the quiet buildings within the city. Nothing, just utter silence. It was quiet, as if there was only one night for once, where the streets and roads were clear, where the law appeared to be in control. Where it appeared that finally there was peace. It was quite alien to see a night like this, or at anytime to be frank, for anyone who was used to the appearance of Daten City in full swing. Nothing more than the sound of wind rushed through the streets occasionally broke said respectable silence. The silence was to be broken by the sound of thunder, above in the cloudless, starless sky, came the rumble of lightning.. In a flash came a bolt of lightning that, didn't hit the ground if not it just shot across the sky like a bullet, as if it had changed its mind in the middle of its path of heading down to the earth to strike on the concrete streets. Then... a sudden splash, and just like that, the chaos of Daten City resumed. Lights. Music. Sex. Etc., Etc. Time seemed to resume after that little bolt of lightning shot across the sky. "Ow..." groaned a young little angel, taking a moment to look at the sky, drenched in muddy water. The fall really rattled his brains...well what was left of his brains. He looked up at the sky, looking up at the endless blue only to get hit on the head by an umbrella. Shaking the muddy water off his clothes, with a huff, the young man quickly picked up the umbrella that fell down with him, opening it up as then ... Rain... He whimpered slightly, tears coming to his eyes. He took a moment to soak his head in the rain water to clean off the murky mud-like water from his hair, as usual messy as it was he liked it clean. He sniffled as he got his clean as possible. He preferred being more or less presentable on the first day. He wandered for some time... wandering through the streets on this cold rainy evening, the raven haired youth had no idea on where to go, but even so, even if he knew where he was, he was of course lost. In a while, he found himself at the door step of a church, behind of which was a graveyard. The infamous church of the Anarchy sisters. Of course he had no idea of this, he had lived a fairly reserved life before, and no one mentioned them at all. Maybe...I can...He scampered over to the church, looking at the towering ominous structure, he was about to knock on the door, until he saw the door creak open, there was no one in the main hall of the church... It was empty but there were some candles lit, lighting up the faint image of a cross all the way across the room. He shut the door behind him and sat down shaking, cold, wet and hungry. He started to pray, whimpering, and sniffling "...W-why..?"

Stocking came into the room, Chuck behind her. She had a broom and dustpan in hand, humming to herself. The two-haired woman began sweeping, jamming out to the music in her ears. She seemed to be dancing like a stripper, the way her hips were rotating and how sensual her face looked. Chuck looked goofy as he tried to dance along, making the usual noises as he always did. Stocking didn't happen to even catch a glance of the fellow angel, too busy with her chores. She was dressed in a sweater, the black cloth hanging to just below her groin, a small heart in the bottom left hem. She had her usual striped stockings, the socks held up by a black garter belt. She had no shoes on, able to move across the floor easily. Finally, she finishes the room, popping Chuck's mouth open like a trash can and depositing the dirt in his mouth. Finally, she turns and squeaks, catching sight of the angel. "I'm sorry, sir. We're closed," she states, her soft, melodic voice filling the cathedral.</s>

Some people had it good, others had it, well, not so good. Some people over exaggerated their bad lives in order to get attention, while others walked right into their own misery with ignorance. They call it bliss, but it's really more like bullshit. For one high school student, he'd dug his own grave, accidentally of course. Originally it was something that had just circulated between his friends. One of his friends had figured out that he had Kate Upton on his friends list, they of course had one of the Kate Upton fan page's liked as well, but when he said that it was because she was his aunt, his friends wouldn't stop giving him shit about it. Word spread around school, and then everyone wouldn't stop giving him shit about it. His whole school year went like this, day in day out, even people sending him messages on Facebook asking for pictures of him with his Aunt. Pretentious cunts, their constant badgering had left him in need of a therapist. He'd had dreams of killing his classmates, and was leaving school early because he couldn't stand their terrible mocking. Ryan had become a freak, somehow along the way to popularity, that failed. But his therapist gave him a fantastic suggestion, he suggested to Ryan that during the summer he go stay with his aunt, he suggested that he spend time with her. Take pictures with her, do things with her in order to prove not only to himself what he's saying is true, but to validate it to everyone else. However, having been with her for a week, things have gone from better, to worse. For him at least, she'd become suspicious too. He'd been stealing her panties, not even her really sexy ones, but the ones she wore when she went to go do something, or her workout shorts. Ryan knew something was wrong with him, but she was so sexy, and her smell, it was intoxicating. Ryan was sixteen, he was still a virgin technically, he'd had a girlfriend of his give him a blowjob. She told him he couldn't cum in her mouth, but did anyway, relationship over. His therapist was telling him to explore his feelings. He said that he should masturbate and think about her, and continue to take her panties. Ryan felt like that was strange, but perhaps it was the best way to get rid of the ideas in his head. Just by getting accustomed to them, some military groups beat the crap out of their soldiers to make them torture resistant. Perhaps this was the best way? He wasn't sure, but his therapist hadn't steered him wrong in the past. Currently Ryan sat in the hall bathroom near the guest bedrooms in Kate's vast house. His pants were around his ankles and he was sitting on the toilet seat lid. In his hand, bundled up in a ball of sorts Ryan had a pair of purple lace panties, he had them wrapped around his cock and was pumping his hand up and down. Ryan was rather large for his age, his dick was eight inches long, and nearly two and a half inches in width. In his mind, Ryan envisioned his Aunt on her knees in the bathroom with him, sucking on the head of his fat cock. She'd suck on it till he came, and he'd cum all over her face and large breasts. Groaning quietly, Ryan brought himself near to orgasm, continuing to pump the panties harder around his dick.

Kate was out back sunbathing by her pool in her black bikini. She liked to keep her skin a golden colour, it made her feel more attractive and certainly pleased her management team who needed her looking her best for every photo shoot. Laying on a lounger, she had one arm above her head while the other leaned down to pick up a cold lemonade. It was 1pm in the afternoon, and the sun was sizzling hot, causing Kate to work up a sweat without even doing anything. "I'm just going for a swim," she said, turning her legs and standing up on them. She leaned down over another lounger and kissed her boyfriend's forehead before walking over to the stairs. Holding onto the two silver railings, Kate sunk into the water and dunked her head underneath. Pulling her hair out of her band, she threw it by her drink as her hair fell down to her back. Little did the model know that upstairs on this hot day was her young nephew jerking off with her panties around his cock. She had grown suspicious about her underwear going missing but assumed it was her boyfriend. She hadn't said anything to him about it yet, but she was very close to asking. After doing some lengths in the pool, Kate pulled herself out and crawled up the side before getting to her feet. She dripped water everywhere before opening her backdoor, sliding it in the process. Wet footprints landed on the wooden flooring of the kitchen before making their mark on the white marble in the large hall by the stairs. "Ryan!" Kate called out to him at the bottom of the staircase. Now holding her arm on to the sides, she walked up and called his name again.</s>

Tifa Lockhart usually looked confident, strong, and gorgeous. It certainly took some confidence to wear Tifa's usual attire: a dangerously short leather skirt that wrapped about her impressive hips and clung preciously to her tight ass. Not to mention the white half-shirt that worked more to outline her impressive bust than hide it. Generally suspenders worked to hold the pants and help cover, though they were almost entirely for show. Not for show were the knuckles that she generally wore over her hands. If there was one part of Tifa Lockhart that didn't quite look feminine, it was her rough hands. They were the hands of a martial artist, tempered by constantly bashing things with impressive force. Her muscles had been built by martial arts as well: from her lean arms to her tight abdomen to the impressive pair of legs that her normal garb displayed. Even natural, Tifa had a beauty to her though. Long black hair fell down well past her shoulders, framing a face that many a guy had flirted with mistakenly. But the girl's heart belonged to one man, so each poor flirt was met with a friendly comment, a cheerful smile, and a causal rejection. Pressuring a martial artists never ended well for the one doing the pressuring, as too many customers soon found out for themselves. In other words, the girl might look like she should be a streetwalker, but when it came to experience, Tifa had about as much as the little girls that walked around clutching their mother's skirts. Which is why Barrett laughed when Tifa suggested this. But they had information that Don Corneo may know about Shinra's movements. Considering that Shinra might very well be hiding Cloud... well, it wasn't even an issue for Tifa. But she had heard the loud laugh from her friend and technical boss. How was poor, innocent Tifa supposed to come off like some kind of call-girl? Like Tifa couldn't flirt and dress in sultry clothing. Really. Of course, the moment Tifa had insisted, Barrett had gone all protective, insisting that he go with her or something. That led to a truly ridiculous discussion involving a pimp hat. In the end, Tifa had nearly had to sneak out to do this. And so she did. Tifa let her hair fall loose over her shoulders. She squeezed into a slinky dark blue dress that clung to her curves and showcased everything in a manner that, well, actually wasn't quite as revealing as her normal attire. True, there was a slit in the dress to show quite a considerable amount of thigh. The dress also clung like a second skin, and were it not for a special bra, you would see Tifa's nipples. The heels did make her legs and ass look more fantastic, but that was almost like putting an extra layer of chocolate on top of a perfectly constructed sundae: it nearly made the whole dish just too sweet. Unfortunately, that was the outfit Tifa wore now. She blinked away a haze, trying to remember exactly how she'd gotten here. Obviously some of the details came into focus; the bits and pieces. Yet she couldn't remember quite what had happened. Her body felt sluggish and slow, and Tifa was almost positive that she'd been drugged, or maybe hit by a Slow Materia or something. Maybe both. She groaned and tried to shift, but found her limbs uncooperative. At least the shifting meant that she could feel what lay underneath her: garish sheets made from the most expensive fabric available in Midgar. Tifa groaned again, pinching shut her eyes. She knew all too well where she was now: Don Corneo's bedroom, where girls went to lose it all.

When Don Corneo first saw her, in that alluring blue dress giving a tantalizing view of her thighs and accentuating her curves in conjunction with her long black hair, he knew he had to have her. And what Don Corneo wanted, Don Corneo got. It had been easy enough to subdue her, an ambush by his personal guards quickly overpowering her and rendering her unconscious. He did pay for the best in the business after all, and if they couldn't handle one girl, then what good were they? She had been searched and her possessions, besides the dress, taken for 'safekeeping'. Tifa herself had been left in his room for her meeting with the Don. Corneo was busy, the hassle of running a city wide syndicate that could get anyone what they needed for a price, but the awakening of his new acquisition was something he didn't want to miss, and he returned while she was still stirring from her sleep. The pungent odor of a cigar soon filled the air from his huffing, though it was a good cigar. Only the finest for the Don. He was small in stature and pudgy by his own admission, though no one ever lived long enough to call him fat twice. His couldn't help it that he so enjoyed the finer things in life, and the wealth and power he had allowed him to...indulge himself. He wore an interesting combination of a fur coat with a white shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal his chest, and blue jeans. He didn't exactly exude charisma, but money talked and that he had plenty of. "Tifa Lockheart, of the famous Avalanche. You don't know how glad I am to have finally met you in person." Corneo said, voice laid with an inherent rasp as he advanced, circling the bed in his well decorated room. Artifacts adorned the walls, items that would cost a fortune from the far reaches of Gaia, from Wutia, Midgard, even Nibelheim (What there was actually worth getting from there). It was another reminder of his opulence and wealth. "It isn't often that beautiful women such as yourself walk into my inn of their own volition."He gesticulated at the area around him, cigar clutched between fingers as he talked, taking the occasional drag from it and letting the smoke waft up to the ceiling, to mix with exotic fragrances inherent in the inn.</s>

Krystal was fresh off the private jet when her father called her on her cell phone. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to meet you sweetheart, but I'm preparing for a big dinner meeting with the CEO of Kaiba Corp. I thought you might like to come, seeing as he's close to your age and also loves duel monsters," Kenshin Kobayashi asked his daughter through the phone, ruffling his short blue hair in frustration. He dreaded having meetings with this particular CEO, who was what you might call rather pompous. Krystal smirked to herself. This played right into her plans. "Of course, papa. I would love to come with you." She answered, smiling at her father's sigh of relief. She knew from her past visits how much he loathed Seto Kaiba, but smiled anyway, going to the fabric store to get some fabric paints and white satin. She paid with her MasterCard and walked back to the penthouse she always stayed in when she stayed with her father, smiling at the note on the door. It read: "Sweetie, I have a surprise for you. Just go inside and you will see. Welcome home. Glad you decided to stay this time. Papa." She smiled again at the note before opening the door and seeing that it had been completely redone, all in shades of dark blue. "It's perfect, papa," she said to herself with a smile, putting some plastic down, taking the fabric she had bought and turning it into a cocktail-style halter dress, and then painting a blue-eyes white dragon on it using her hair dryer to dry the fabric quickly, as she only had a few hours before she had to go. She took a quick nap, dreaming of a spiky-haired man but shrugged it off, knowing it would all be explained sooner or later. When she was sure the dress was dry, she did her hair and makeup, smiling at herself in the mirror. Her hair was in its usual style of two rabbit ear buns on either side, with two tails protruding from them; her makeup was a light blue smoky eye with nude lips. Krystal smiled at her good handiwork as she used her magic to craft earrings to match her dress and a small necklace. "Perfect," she concluded as she went out the door and slipped on her 6" pearly white stilettos, walking out into the street and to her limo, where she would be driven to Seto Kaiba's mansion along with her father. He commented on how beautiful she looked and she just smiled at him. "Thank you, papa. I hope that Mr. Kaaba doesn't think it rude of me to come too. Did you tell him I was coming?" She asked, curiosity in her glacier-blue eyes as she looked at him. Her father nodded as well, clearing his throat. "Yes, I did. He said he was anxious to meet you, which I found weird. His whole demeanor changed when I showed him a picture of you at our last meeting. He seemed to look like he knew you." He finished, smiling at her as they pulled up at Seto's mansion. Krystal took a deep preparatory breath before smiling. She knew everything would be alright.

Seto sighed as he tried to decide what outfit he was going to wear tonight for the meeting between himself and the Kobayashi family CEO. He normally wasn't so indecisive about this sort of thing, preferring the white suit with blue shirt for business functions and more serious events and the long white sleeveless coat with black turtleneck for less serious meetings and public appearances. It wasn't the meeting with the CEO that had the former Duel Monsters champion so anxious, it was who he was bringing. When he showed Seto a photo of his daughter there was something about her that drew his attention to her, he had never met her before in his life but he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. Seto eventually decided to go with the white suit and blue shirt, shaking off any anxiety he felt about his clothes effecting anything as ridiculous notion. Moving to the bathroom, he had a quick shower, as he had been working hard all day on conference calls with investors about his new theme park and whenever he had a spare moment worked on a strategy to defeat Yugi's Egyptian god cards. He usually had the simulator and several staff members working on it around the clock, but none of them were him, he was the only one who truly understood his deck and how to work it, anything those minions down stairs thought of was situational at best, but they did sometimes come up with something to try. Stepping out of the shower, he quickly dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist before heading back to his bedroom, which looked its usual sterile clean self as entered, throwing the towel over the door handle. Searching through his drawers, he pulled out a pair of black socks and underpants and put them on before getting dressed in the white pants and shirt, doing up the matching blue tie before throwing the suit jacket over his shoulders, doing up the middle button on the jacket. He only had time to apply a slight amount of cologne and straighten himself up before he heard the door bell ring and his butler answer it. He knew who it was as he wasn't expecting anybody else. Making his way down the stairs, he remained stone-faced as he reached the bottom of the flight. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Krystal, the way her hair was done up, her makeup, her 6-inch stilettos, and...Blue-Eyes White Dragon? that was painted on her dress. He wouldn't let it show, but he was completely entranced by the female, she was something unlike anyone he'd ever seen before. Moving forward, he greeted the other CEO, waiting until he offered his hand before raising his own to shake. He knew that he wasn't a fan of the Kaiba Corp CEO, that was no secret, but their two companies both had something the other one wanted, and that was the purpose of their business.</s>

"Gary, I got it," Lexington said impatiently, nodding his head as he sat on the black leather couch while talking on his mobile phone with his manager. "It's just an important fucking client," he added, rolling his eyes at the thought of having to deal with another demanding rich bitch. "Lots of money," he finished, trying not to sound too annoyed. The house was now in immaculate condition after being thoroughly cleaned by the porno cleaners, showing no signs of the previous two days of non-stop fucking by Lex, his co-stars, and friends. Lex couldn't believe how much they were able to remove from the room, even though he himself had shot over four hours of hardcore porn there, including two massive cum shots on women sprawled out exactly where he was currently sitting. Today was supposed to be his "rest" day, until Gary had called him this morning frantic about some wealthy woman who'd been trying to set up a vanity movie. She had been talking to Gary for several months, but had been difficult to schedule as she seemed to never be in L.A. when Lex was free. Lex could give half a fuck, these vanity shoots were always little effort for the same amount of money as a full movie, which was nice, but never much fun and felt more like work. Half the women fainted when they saw his cock in person. The hardest part of the job was getting it up when some nasty, fat but rich woman showed up. That's why he always made sure to invite a friend, and where was his friend he wondered looking around the living room... "Yeah, yeah, I already said, Vince is here with the camera and the lights," he answered, now annoyed as Gary had already asked about the camera guy setting up at the other end of the living room. Finally getting sick of the babbling and increasingly agitated man on the other end of the phone, he raised his voice, "Look, Gary, I'm a fucking porn star, remember? I can fuck the shit out of some rich housewife half asleep if I have to. Why da'fuck you sweating this vanity shoot so much anyway?" Gary's answer made Lex catch his breath. "She's paying $10,000 for this if we sign some confidentiality agreement?" Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money for an hour of work and Lex was suddenly alert. 'Yeah, I'll fuck her good, she'll earn every dollar of that fee. I won't even make her wear a bag on her head this time if she ugly." He hung up the phone with a laugh. Ten large was a nice pay day for him. That was enough to get his attention and he turned a critical eye to the room and the camera man, starting to actually care for the first time that shit was tight for when the client showed up. Suddenly a pair of hands rubbed down his chest under his silk shirt and he felt a mouth burrow into his neck to give him a teasing suck and nibble. "Hey there big guy," cameTori Black's sensual voice. "How's my favorite black dick hanging today?" He reached up and grabbed her head to pull her closer as he laughed and kissed her on the cheek, patting the couch next to him to get her to sit down. Tori looked amazing as always, a sexy, petite brunette with curves in all the right places and one of the sultriest sets of eyes he'd ever had the pleasure of cumming on. She was wearing a short black dress and ridiculously high heels and as she came into view walking around the couch he instantly felt his large cock stir in his Italian silk trousers. He hadn't fucked anyone yet today and Tori looked incredibly gorgeous. She'd make sure he was fluffed for this rich bitch no matter how hideous or old the client was. "How's my favorite little slut doing?" he asked as he pulled her onto his lap for a longer kiss, one hand running down a bare thigh as he eyed her outfit. "I got some rich bitch coming over soon that's going to pay me ten large to fuck the shit out of her. Want to help make sure she can't walk for a week afterwards?" Tori laughed and reached down to grab the large, long bulge of the hardening cock that his thin trousers did little to hide. "No way you can fit this monster into some ordinary woman," she said. "She should pay you double to agree to only fuck her with the tip and save her a trip to the hospital. Triple if you don't fuck her ass." She gave his rod a squeeze and bit her lower lip, giving him an innocent and worried expression. "And what if I accidentally fuck you right now and you can't get it up for her? Will you be upset at me?" Lex laughed, though in truth he realized it could happen. She looked fucking amazing on his lap and her expert hand was teasing his long length in just the right way to get him going. He pushed her off him suddenly, sending her sprawling onto the couch with her limbs askew and flashing the tiny black thong that she had on under her dress. "Bitch, you'd have to do a lot of free shoots with me to earn me back ten large," he said with a smile, standing up to resist any further attempts by Tori to seduce him, for now. She pouted at him as she settled on her side on the couch, one hand casually playing with a breast under the pretense of adjusting her bra. "Aww, well you know I'd work for free with you anyway, so maybe its worth it!" she purred. "I brought my strap-on, just let me fuck the bitch and send her on her way!" Just then the door bell rang and Lex grinned and winked at her, before saying, "I tell you what, I'll let you take a crack at her with that strap-on and if you do well, maybe I'll even fuck you and let this rich bitch suck my cum out of you." He turned and slipped a leather jacket on before striding to the door, the large bulge of his over foot long cock clearly visible going down his trousers as he prepared to turn the handle. He was glad Tori had gotten him aroused, better to let this bitch get a hint of the what she was getting herself into so she could beg him to take it easy from the start.

The car that pulled up to the house did nothing to betray who awaited inside. In fact, it worked to exactly the opposite purpose: nothing about this vehicle stood out. It was as standard in appearance as money could buy: simply a small, hybrid SUV, silver, the type that soccer moms drove their kids to work in. Except this particular car had one particular difference: the windows had all been tinted near black. It was impossible to see who rode within from without. However, that vanity could be for any number of reasons, so even then, the car hardly warranted a second look. Unlike the woman who slid out of the front seat. The client was young; you could tell that simply by the way she carried herself. And unlike most of those that hired Lex for these vanity projects, this girl was slim, some would argue too slim. Her legs, currently left entirely bare, seemed to stretch on forever, somehow eventually managing to meet a tight, heart-shaped ass. Not that sad ass was visible at the moment: a long trenchcoat covered most of that fine body, leaving only the aforementioned legs bared. True, there was a short, flirty dress of bright turquoise underneath, a favorite of a boyfriend, and underneath that was a slim, sexy woman, but a good deal of the details were hidden. In fact, most of the woman's features were completely hidden. Her hair had been tucked up into a broad brimmed hat, the shade of which hid most of her face, almost too well. Large, thick sunglasses covered most of her face. Ruby red lips were left bare, and you could see skin the color of porcelain around the edges. This was no Oompa Loompa who regularly hit fake tanning booths, but a classic, pale beauty. Just the barest wisps of cornflower hair seemed to peek out around the edges of the hat, enough to let any careful studies know that the woman was, in fact, blonde, but not enough to give away more than that. This woman stood at the door, having anxiously rang it. Despite the garb and the vehicle, the woman kept nervously looking up and down the street, obviously not wanting to be looked at. She needn't have bothered: Gary had arranged things almost perfectly. People did not look at other people on this street, at least, not in the eyes. When Lex answered the door, the female's head tilted up at him. Though he couldn't see it, her eyes went wide behind her sunglasses as she took him in. "You're a lot bigger in person," came out of her mouth before she could help it. A slight blush arose on her cheeks, the color showing almost too easily. "Sorry, I'm your client. Mind if I come in?" The woman barely hesitated before walking her way around Lex, entering the building. Nerves rolled off the girl, and she seemed as anxious as a lamb in a slaughterhouse. Her head kept swiveling as her eyes took in details. "Right, this looks about right," she mumbled, before her eyes fell on Tori. "Who is that? I didn't ask for another woman!" The blonde spun on her heel, turning to face Lex. Again, though he couldn't see it, her eyes betrayed emotion, flashing with anger behind the thick glasses. He could, however, hear the edge to her voice. In fact, said voice seemed oddly powerful, especially coming from such a small creature.</s>

"Goddammit, Rogue!" spat the Southern Goth as she stormed away from her school, tears welling up in her green eyes. It was stupid, beyond stupid, really, for her to be this upset. She'd always known that Scott and Jean had a relationship, or at least had a desire for a relationship with one another. And why wouldn't he pick Jean over Rogue? One the beautiful, model-ready, leggy redhead who would have had the school wrapped around her pretty finger even without her mental abilities. Everything about Jean screamed perfection, from her perfectly manicured hands (and how the hell did she manage to keep them up when they were constantly on missions anyway?) to her tight ass, always in painted on pants and skirts, to her fine cheekbones. Hell, Rogue was pretty damn straight, and even she had to admit that she'd probably spread her legs for Jean. Fuck, at this point, Rogue would probably spread her legs for just about anyone. You could barely walk anywhere in the fucking Mansion without hearing someone having sex or masturbating or God knows what. Rogue had been interrupted in the shower no less than three times, once in mid climax. It had taken three other students to hold Rogue down to prevent her from murdering Kitty when the brunette had popped her cute little head right through the wall of the shower. Like Rogue didn't know about "Lance," Kitty's all too accurately named vibrator. That damned thing went off every other night, especially whenever Kitty and Lance actually went out and did something. This wasn't even counting the adults, who Rogue didn't want to think about. At least they could fuck each other though. That was exactly what Scott and Jean were doing right now. They hadn't even left the school! They were back there, right now, going at it like, well, a pair of horny teenagers. Rogue could still hear Jean's panting moans and Scott's throaty groans. Though if she were being honest, it wasn't that they had gone at it that bothered her. It wasn't even quite that everyone else got to fuck like bunnies while Rogue was left frustrated. It was that it all turned her on, fiercely, and right now. The goth girl's normally pale face now had a very distinct reddish hue to it. She looked as though she'd just been three rounds in the Danger Room. Except Danger Room exercises didn't generally result in hardened nipples that threatened to poke through the tight green bra. That garment hadn't even felt that tight till right now. Rogue could've sworn that her already impressive bust had literally swelled with desire, and she knew for a fact that her nipples had tented the fabric. Thankfully, she wore a skin tight halter top on top of said bra, though that too had a slight crinkle right at the nipple area. Fortunately, she woreanotherlayer atop that: the breezy, forest green blouse that obscured without really covering. It also showed her tight abs, hardened by those aforementioned hours in the Danger Room. A green jewel dangled from her navel, with a little "X" symbol emblazoned in silver there. Both pointed down to the skin tight leather mini-skirt that covered Rogue's body, cupping a tight ass well, not to mention emphasizing rounded hips. most of her legs were covered by leggings and excessively long boots, thankfully. In fact, it all felt like way too damn much clothing right now. Rogue shifted her backpack, hoisting it over her shoulder and trying to hurry back to the mansion. She'd just... dance or do a danger room session or...Scott, looking toward the ceiling, his mouth open and groaning as his cock thrust into tight, hot pussy, the wet squelching from Jean's sex nearly as loud as the noises they made. Each thrust sending a thick slap throughout the small area where the two went at it, adding another layer to their sexual song... "Fuck it," groaned the Southern Goth. Rogue turned her head, looking about. Privacy, she just needed a little privacy. There! An abandoned construction site! In the back of her mind, Rogue heard Logan growling about ambush points and checking your escape routes, but she didn't give a fuck. Those words were soon chased out by the image of the boy that Rogue wanted so much to touch himself with a girl that did not have short cropped brunette hair and a witch's lock. That girl did not have purple lipstick or wear a collar around a pale neck. And weirdly enough, Rogue wasn't even certain that was what she wanted. Oh Gawd, do I want to be between them? Wouldn't that be hot though? Rogue's lean, pale body sandwiched between two others, both going hard at her, slamming into her tight sex and stretching out her walls. No, one would be jammed into her tight ass, destroying her little rosebud and buggering her fiercely. You wouldn't think such fuckin' messed up thoughts if ya got someRogue thought, soon followed by another barely audible: "Fuck it." She was in the site, and she ducked behind a mound of dirt. Rogue gave the area a cursory look before sliding down, her backpack within hand's reach. One hand went to cup her breast, squeezing it beneath the fabric, while the other delved between her legs. Rogue knew it was stupid to get naked, but she didn't need to get naked to enjoy herself. Just one quick orgasm, enough to cool her down, then she'd slip in somewhere, clean up, and head home. The teenager slid a hand beneath her skirt, tugging at the green and black boy shorts that covered her sex. Rogue wasn't surprised to find a wet spot at her crotch, nor was she shocked when her fingers found a hot, wet swamp between her legs. Rogue trembled, arching her back, pinching her eyes shut. So good, so good, and nobody to see. Rogue began trailing her hand along her aching slit, feeling the hot, wet lips. She dipped a finger in, just sinking up to the nail. The finger curled, pulling against her tight, virginal sex, swirling a little. Her other hand went to grab her breast, mashing it roughly. Fingers went up to pinch her nipple, causing her to moan and buck her hips, which consequently shoved her finger further into her sex. Rogue didn't care, rotating her hand and grinding her hips against it. It all felt so good, so fucking good. Rogue let out a low, throaty groan, her legs kicking, the boots scraping against the ground. The girl was becoming more and more lost in her own body, unaware of the world around her...

"C'mon, big guy, get a move on it, will ya?" Complained the nimblesmaller mutant as he bounded atop of a nearby dumpster before leaping higher above to land on a fire escape not too further away. A few feet away came the lumbering yet physically imposing figure of the mutant known to friends and enemies as the Blob, as Fred Dukes waddled his way through the alleyway while carrying a couple of canisters over each of his wide shoulders. "I don't see you lugging either of these canisters around, Toad." The large figure noted; glaring up at his roomie and teammate while gesturing with a nod of his head toward one of the two nearly fire extinguisher sized containers. Giving a dismissive shrug and turning his attention outward, the often slacking teenager retorted, "Hey, I'm on lookout duty. Not like any of these vents are going to support your wide-" His words were halted by the distant sight of a familiar figure wandering around on her lonesome. One which, considering the 'packages' they were assigned to steal for the Brotherhood, seemed almost too good to be true, "Huh." "What is-" The larger mutant started as he finally caught up with the faster teen; halting in his question at also noticing the lone figure ducking into the old construction site, "Oh. Think we should head back around to the other side to be safe?" With a scoff and a widening grin filled with a sense of false confidence, Toad was quick to toss that suggestion aside while rubbing his hands together, "What? And miss out on the perfect chance to test out our little finding? Lance and Pietro talked us into doing the grunt work, so we get first dibs for the fruits of our labor. Let's go!" Without waiting for his partner to really say anything in agreement or rebuttal of the notion, the nimble figure quickly leaped forward and began to more closely trail after the pale figure. Keeping toward the shadows and high above when possible, it wasn't long until the sickly looking teenager was able to catch up with their former teammate in the Brotherhood. What Toad had in mind was a little payback for all of the trouble Rogue and her friends had caused them in the past. But what he found upon peeking over a few rusted over support beams was perhaps the last thing he'd ever expected. "Ohhh man..." He barely managed to keep at a whisper while quickly clamping a hand over his mouth as his eyes remained glued on the spot. This had to be a dream. Something brought about by too many frustrated nights of not being able to have any fun with Wanda back at their place. Though usually it was Wanda in those situations. Also, he was always alone in those dreams, which wasn't the case here as Fred finally caught up with the other mutant while moving as quietly as his massive girth would allow. "Woah," was all the large mutant could manage to say while also ducking behind the abandoned metal beams which barely managed to shield the sight of his large frame. Instantly, the equally sexually frustrated teen was stuck in a similar trance as his teammate. Both of them watching for several moments. Perhaps a minute or two. Maybe more. Of simply enjoying the view of the forever untouchable Rogue pleasuring herself in the supposed privacy of this abandoned site. Managing to pull his eyes away for a second, Toad glanced over at Blob and was reminded of their little 'mission' for the gang. A reminder which brought a wide grin to his sickly face. Well. No time like the present to test things out. "Dude? Get the canister ready for use and follow my lead." The smaller male whispered; quickly ducking away before his partner could pull his own eyes away from the beautiful southern goth to try and ask what he was doing. Not that it mattered, since it seemed Fred would indeed continue to watch closely while Toad slinged away with the help of his tongue in order to get around behind the young X-Man. Landing upon the top of the mound of dirt, Rogue's first indication of their being another person there would likely come from the few small pebbles which rolled downward, before the familiar voice called out rather casually, "You, uh, need a hand there, babycakes?" The sudden sight of his grotesquely long tongue shooting out and wagging suggestively when she did look his way followed as he added, "Or maybe a tongue?" Having hopefully drawn enough of her attention by now, Toad pulled his tongue out of harm's reach, while quickly calling, "NOW!!" Indeed, this seemed to be enough time for the slower Blob to make his way over, one canister in hand, than spray her with a thick coating of the airborne contents, "Hehehe!" The substance came out similar to perfume, yet held a thicker feel to it as it came into contact with Rogue's body. Moist. Enough so to give her a light sheen which would last until it completely dried in a short amount of time; with Blob continuing to spray until he got all of her exposed flesh before stopping, "This junk better work like Pietro's 'sources' said it would." The Blob considered; preparing for fight/escape if needed, while watching the surprised X-Man deal with the unknown substance. Toad was ready for the worst, as the opportunistic teenager quickly leaped over and stood behind the larger male while cautiously watching from over a wide shoulder, "Well, if it don't, then at least I'm a faster runner than you..."</s>

Felicia Hardy, a.k.a. Black Cat, was on the prowl tonight. It had been a while since she had seen the ol' web-slinger, and privately she assumed that he was likely off doing something else at the moment - saving the world in a way no one would ever know, maybe, from creatures "ordinary people" like her weren't meant to deal with. Which was perfectly fine by her, she reflected as she strode along the roof of a building. It freed her up to have a little run of the town, to do what she liked without fear of having something yanked out of her hands at the very last moment. Ordinary cops were never a problem for someone like her. Sinuously she bent down to one knee, shimmery, tight-fitting catsuit constricting around her shapely legs as she surveyed the museum juuuust next door. It had a nice little exhibit on display - ancient artifacts that would fetch a pretty penny from quite a few buyers. She didn't even have to have something set up beforehand; there were always fish in the sea, and even a cursory cast of the line would reel in something nice and juicy for her. She took her time in unfolding her grappling hook, blue eyes flitting up to survey the museum. Indeed, this was going to be a piece of cake... The harpoon of the grappling hook hit the museum's roof hard, anchoring to the stone. Attaching the hook to her belt, Felicia took a sprinting leap towards the museum. With a muted "whrrrrr!" the line started to retract, dragging her through the air - she hit the side of the building with nary a wince, clawed, gloved fingers digging into the side of the museum. She clambered up and over the side, and considered a skylight only briefly. Well, it was time to do a little recon before she jumped in... she withdrew a small pair of goggles, pressing them just over her masked face so she could see inside with the typical green haze of nightvision - this place was sure to have a guard or two roaming the floor with such a pricey item on display...

It was official. SHIELD's job was no longer to save the world from bad guys but instead go around doing the work of local cops because they where too damned stupid to do it themselves. Max had signed up to fight the good fight, stop terrorists and super villains but instead the Deputy Director had him sitting on a rooftop across from the Midtown Museum in Manhattan wait for a jewel thief who may or may not show up. Off over the Hudson there was the sound of rolling thunder. A big storm was rolling in and he was going to be spending the night sitting out in it. He tugged his datapad from one of the pockets on his belt, double checking the info he had been given on the target. She was damn hot. He shoved the pad back into his belt before bringing his binoculars back to his eyes. He caught movement on the roof across the street and zoomed in, catching sight of his target. A quick grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he slipped the binoculars back into their pouch before flipping a switch on his boots and another on a battery pack on his belt. The rocket boots and anti-gravity harness would ensure he'd make it safely across the street and not kill himself on landing. He took several steps back before taking a run at the ledge of the building, leaping from it. The boots fired with an audible thud that propelled him through the air, the anti-grav harness taking over, leaving him with a feeling of weightlessness as he sailed over the street. He landed on the museum roof, in a roll, coming up to a proper stance with his sidearm pulled from its holster, "Gonna have to ask you to step away from skylight sweetheart." he said, turning to gun on his target.</s>

How had she gotten pulled into this mission?Sakura Haruno sighed silently as she walked, keeping her vision straight ahead as she had for the last several days, almost refusing to look at her travelling companion, her partner for this mission. She had filled out rather nicely in the past couple of years. There were rumours that she had enhanced herself with techniques learnt from Tsunade, but they were nothing more than that, rumours. Her body was entirely natural no matter what people said. Still, how could this have happened only days from her 17th birthday? Damnit, she should be back home, preparing to celebrate with her friends. Instead she was on her way to an enemy town, where supposedly rogue ninja and samurai had been gathering to plot against the Leaf village. That in itself wasn't so bad. Hell, being partnered up with her current team-mate wouldn't be so bad in itself, but what really got to her....what made her hate this mission more than anything else.... "Married. We have to march right into that town, and get married. All for a mission. I don't believe it....I honestly don't...." She shook her head, then finally looked at the boy beside her. "And why of all people is it you? Why couldn't I have come with someone I knew? Someone I trusted? No, somehow you get picked for this, and by the end of today, we are going to be husband and wife, all so we can not look suspicious. To make it worse, we even have to share the same honeymoon suite room afterwards too" Sakura's eyebrow twitched, glaring at him for a few moments before looking back ahead. She could see the town on the horizon....damn....less than an hours walk away now....then likely an hour after that they'd be married...actually....literally...legally...married.

Nathan walked alongside the girl, head leaning into the palms of his hands as they formed a small wall behind him, elbows out as he walked alongside her as she ranted. He didn't see what the big deal was. True, he didn't want to be on this mission with HER of all people either, but this gave him plenty of opportunities to amuse himself anyway with jokes and teases about their current situation. "Oh come on dear," Nathan said with a grin as he walked beside her and laid a hand onto her bum, then slowly moved it so it was caressing her hip. He pulled her body into his lightly as they walked and his eyes stayed forward. "It won't be so bad married to me. I'd treat you right. Make you food... keep you warm at night... bathe you... take a kunai for you. Though what I'm most excited about is us consummating the marriage." He joked. "I'd love to see you naked with me going inside you, you calling my name in never-ending lust. 'Nathan! Oh god! Cum inside me, impregnate me and let's really make this marriage official!' He loved mocking her.</s>

How long had it been since the discharge? How many years since he had ended up in the wards, taking missing persons cases and following husbands for paranoid wives who thought their husbands were spending too much time at Cora's? Too damned long was far as Max was concerned. He had done what he had to do to get the job done, and instead of a commendation, he had been booted from the service and managed to just avoid court-martial. He should be thankful for the lack of prison time, but that didn't make his current situation any easier. The pounding at his office door awakened him from his stooper, and a groan passed through his dry, cracked lips as he pushed his head from the desk top, knocking over the empty bottle that had been acting as his ashtray and it rolled from the edge of the desk and hit the office floor with a thud. A rough, calloused hand ran over the carpet of stubble that coated his jaw before pushing himself to his feet. He paused when he caught sight of his own reflection in one of the windows that ran along the left wall, looking out across the bright neon lights of the ward. He looked like death warmed over - sandy colored hair grown beyond regulation military length, sleeping on his desk had left him disheveled and sticking up at odd angles. His clothes were just as bad - grey slacks and rumpled shirt, sleeves rolled up, revealing arms of hard, flat muscle and an old service tattoo on one arm. Hardly the look of a professional, but he didn't care too much. He keyed the doorpad, unlocking it before it hissed open, "Sorry, hope you weren't waiting too long," he said to the woman waiting outside, his voice gruff and dry.

Bethany Fisher was the sort of woman who didn't like to wait for extended periods of time, let alone in the wards with so many people knowing what they did about her. She was exposed, damn she didn't like it! Her heeled foot anxiously tapped as she waited for the door to open, 'Hurry up,' she hissed inwardly, crossing her arms beneath her bust, glaring darkly at the door. When it finally did slide open, she looked at the stranger that greeted her, "Glad to see you're in," she beamed falsely, "And no too terribly long." She didn't wait for him to invite her in, rather she slipped past him and went straight for his desk. Sitting down against the desk, she sighed, "I need your help, as you can assume from my urgent message I sent the other day?" Again she didn't wait for him to continue, "I need your help retrieving something that was stolen from my husband after he died." Taking a deep breath then letting it out shakily, she looked around the office and continued, "While I was attending my late husband's funeral, a locket was taken from my home. I know it sounds silly, but the locket meant the world to us. It was the very first thing that I ever got from him, and it had pictures of our families." Opening up the small clutch she had brought with her, Beth pulled out a silken hanky and tabbed her eyes, "Please, you're the only one I could possibly trust with this." A locket wasn't exactly what he would collecting, not entirely of course. It was the box that the locket had come in that was important, but what little information he knew, the better. "I can pay you up front, whatever you require, credits are no object to me."</s>

Daphne Blake, 16, had always wanted to fit into some kind of crime-fighting group. Upon her move to Metropolis, she found herself standing in front of the famed Hall of Justice. She looked over the outside of the dome building with pillars on either side, before going through the double glass doors and entering the building. She showed the Superfriends that she was more than just a pretty redhead. Her quick thinking had saved, of all people, Wonder Woman, from an accident! Batman decided to help the teen hone her detective skills, and she became an honorary Superfriend. Daphne was now in the massive state-of-the-art kitchen at the Great Hall, wearing her violet long-sleeve mini dress with lavender stripes on the bottom and at the cuffs, green ascot tied around her neck, a lavender headband in her shoulder-length hair, lighter shade of violet hose and violet pumps. Currently, she was fixing lunch for everyone; a special Italian experience for their taste buds, consisting of chicken parmesan, a garden salad with a vinaigrette dressing, and Italian ice for dessert. She was checking the marinated chicken breasts and preparing a homemade tomato sauce, not knowing very shortly that her relationship with the only other female in the group was about to change... maybe for the better!

Diana Prince, better known to the public as Wonder Woman, had had an interest in the new redhead of the group ever since she first arrived on the team. Daphne was an attractive one, of that she had no doubt, but it had taken a little bit of work on the redhead's end to prove herself worthy as a member of the team. And much to Diana's own surprise, she had, saving Wonder Woman's own life when she was stuck in the clutches of the Legion of Doom. From that point on, the dark-haired Amazon had felt herself... well almost a little obsessed with the junior detective who had so narrowly saved her life. Diana entered the kitchen from behind, clad in her usual red and blue leotard, her red high heeled boots giving her an extra few inches over Daphne. Her golden tiara glistened in the light, adding a bit of light to her dark and elegant mane of hair. "Working hard or hardly working?" she asked playfully as she approached the attractive redhead. "I've been meaning to thank you, you know."</s>

Yera had started her day like normal on the Enterprise, working as an engineer, Science officer and part-time security officer. A few weeks ago, she had ended up stopping Khan's death - his pod was about to be thrown into a sun, but she had managed to save him. Only to have him wake up and escape from the Enterprise, but she had to fight him first; he left her with a black eye. Now, a few weeks later, Yera's mind was on other things. She was busy scanning a warp coil when she felt a slight shift in the air and raised her head. Yera was half human and half Vulcan, blonde haired and brown eyed, 55 years old and weighed 110lbs with a slender yet strong build. She was raised on Earth, so she didn't act like Spock did, but she had asked him to teach her how to control her emotions, which he had been teaching her. She was the youngest of her class to graduate from the Academy and rather smart for those of her age. However, things were changing for her, and Yera was aware that she was coming into her first Pon Farr. She went back to her warp coil, scanning away to see what had gone wrong with it when she suddenly was knocked out. The darkness came fast, and she had no time to react. Yera woke up a few hours later, her eyes heavy. She lifted her head weakly. She looked around the room she was in, it was rather nice with furniture, and she was aware she was lying on a bed. She suddenly turned her head and narrowed her eyes to see a familiar face standing above her. Kahn! She snapped and you could see the anger in her eyes. What are you doing here? Why did you kidnap me? Why am I tied up? She pushed herself up, but her body was rather weak. She could feel that she wasn't tied down; he must have drugged her or something. When I get my feeling back, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. She growled angrily. Yera let out a soft sigh though knowing it would be a while before she regains all her strength. Am I on some ship you stole? Who did you kill? Her eyes softened slightly.

Khan was in a rather good mood for nearly having been shot into the sun a month ago. He had finally found a woman who would be able to handle his strength and appetite with little modification. Once she was converted to an augment, she would be perfect. So he had laid his plans, and when the time was right, had reboarded the Enterprise to claim his soon-to-be companion. It had been all too easy to find and steal her away, and a light sedative would ensure that she would be compliant for their first few days together while she adjusted to the thought of him being in control of her now. He had secured Yera to the bed in his private quarters on a small cruiser vessel he had bought from a Ferengi a week back. It was a small vessel, but it was fast, had a cloak, and would serve his purpose well enough. For the past three hours, the augment had been staring at her prize, waiting for her to regain consciousness so that their fun could begin. Finally, he saw the telltale signs of conciousness in the half-Vulcan. When she opened her eyes and immediately began to question and threaten him, Khan merely shook his head. "You may have bested me once before, my fiery one," he said, "but you will not do so again. You are under my control now, and you shall not be leaving anytime soon. I suggest you accept your fate for what it is...inevitable."</s>