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Tyreen wasn't really the prisoner taking type unless said captured person could give her streams a serious power boost, she'd rather just eat whatever sap was facing maximum consequences for going against the COV, as much she appreciated the bandit buffet she had easy access to 24/7 time to time. What she was doing with her current prisoner shocked even herself; Tyreen wasn't going to stream the capture or help herself to the woman's power. Troy gave her shit for it but Tyreen told him to just point his camera somewhere else. There was plenty happening in the galaxy and he didn't need to fly around her like a mosquito all the time, so he could buzz off. Tyreen stepped into her room, where the bandits had chained Amara's hands above her head and to the ceiling, high enough to where Amara could just barely stand on her tiptoes. "Guess who!" she announced, flashing her teeth at Amara. "I know you might have a hard time finding the right answer since you're not the brightest in the universe, I mean seriously how could be this dumb to get captured! If I really dig deep, really anyone who goes against me has to have all their screws loose." Stepping forward so she was in front of Amara, Tyreen's grin was both smug and triumphant as she spoke. "It doesn't matter how fierce a tiger is, sooner or later a huntress is going to catch them." "Now I know what you're thinking," Tyreen says, as she grabs Amara by the hair and yanks her head up. "Why doesn't Tyreen just take my powers already? Why does she just keep talking?" She snorts at her own joke. "Honestly, I just want to make a point. It doesn't matter what you're capable of right now; you're no match for me, superfan." Cool as it would be to have six more arms, that's eight times I can flip someone off as once! I really want you at your best so that it hurts even more when I finish off the Crimson Raiders." Her grin becomes much more sinister after saying that. "Plus," she says, raising both hands for effect, "I'd prefer you to keep the multiple arms. You can use them to please me." She runs her palm along Amara's muscled arm. "You're just lucky I like that pretty face of yours a lot more." Lowering her palm down further, Tyreen stops it where it comes into contact with Amara's cheek. "I'm sure by now you're thinking how amazingly generous I am," she says, smiling. "How you want to devote yourself to me like the rest of my followers." The grip on Amara's hair tightens. "There's one thing you gotta know, superfan," she continues, shaping her hand into a finger pistol and pressing it against the other siren's forehead. "This kind of generosity comes with a heavy price if you won't pay with loyalty, then I'll just collect some other way." She begins to snicker and snort. "Just kidding, killing you would be a real waste after bringing you all the way here. I won't take your life, but you should know, I can make you wish you were dead." Tyreen states it rather casually, almost like she's sharing a hobby of hers.

Well, this was embarrassing at least, that's how Amara felt at first when her team was ambushed by a group of bandits. What was supposed to be a simple recon mission turned into a massive fuck fest of blood, bullets, and butts - which, on Pandora, wasn't exactly odd, except for the part where one bandit was throwing actual butts. Where did he get them? Who knew? Amara killed him rather quickly, so no one got the chance to ask. Beyond that, they were too busy falling back to care either way. Which is where the real problem began for Amara. In order for her team to escape, she had to unleash all her power at once - a feat that wasn't simple nor easy, but it did buy her team time to escape... unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about her. The Tiger was drained both mentally and physically, which made escaping impossible. She knew this was probably her last moments, so before she drifted off to sleep, she smiled and gripped her gun tightly. However, when the dark-skinned woman woke up hours later and found herself chained, she cursed and shook her head. Oh great... I didn't die after all. She said to herself as she looked around the room before she heard and watched Tyreen enter. Is it the pizza guy? Amara replied sarcastically as she rolled her eyes and tugged on the chains. A huntress? Is that supposed to be you? Amara asked as she looked the other woman up and down. Actually, I was wondering what you had in your teeth. She replied before she hissed as her hair was pulled back, a hint of fire in her eyes as her tattoos sparked green. You really shouldn't let a tiger regain its strength - it might just bite your head off when it does. The professional fighter commented before she blinked a few times in confusion. Wait... What? She asked as she looked around for the cameras until she felt Tyreen's hand trace her arm. It was almost gently yet it held a certain venom underneath it as the two sirens looked at each other. When her hand moved up to cup her cheek, Amara felt herself blush a bit but kept her eyes focused as she felt a warmth between her legs. Is this some kind of henti fetish because I'm not surprised. Or is it because you just like girls with muscles? Amara asked before she grunted as her hair was pulled tighter, a mixture of pain and pleasure pulsating through her as she bit her lip. L-let me guess... You'll record all of this for your followers? It was a simple question and even though Amara didn't see any cameras, that didn't mean there weren't any there. She figured there was some kind of trap involved in all of this, she just needed to figure out what it was before she attempted to escape.</s>

Saber polished her blade. The time would come soon, it always did. The summoning would happen and she would once again become the extension of someone's fist. She was the mighty blade that struck down every foe who dared to stand in front of her Master. She had to be ready for that end. To that end, she practiced daily and spent her evenings sharpening and polishing her blade. The summoning would come and when it did, she would be ready. Except, she wasn't. Saber wasn't ready to be summoned into the bedroom of a teenaged boy. She wasn't ready for the shock of morally suspicious magazines and posters. She wasn't ready for his jaw dropping average-ness. She wasn't ready for what had to be done next, but she was bound by oath to say it. Saber squared her jaw and stepped from the summoning circle. She looked her new Master straight in the eyes. He couldn't have been more than 19. Her gaze remained stern as she pulled her sword and sheath from her hip and planted the tip into the floorboards in front of her. Then she knelt. Her hands clutched the handle and she knelt down on one knee before her new Master. "Greetings Master. The ritual is complete. I, Saber, have been summoned. I am an extension of your will and a slave to your bidding. Whatever you command of me shall be done. I am solely yours until you dismiss me or perish. What is your bidding?"

Shinji Matou had a large grin on his face as he laughed slightly; he had done it, he had summoned the most powerful class of Servant and now his victory in the Grail War was basically assured. As he watched his Servant swear her allegiance to him, he walked around her, inspecting her as he licked his lips. She seemed like a battle-hardened warrior but she was still a cute woman...one with a very tempting body indeed. Already, lewd thoughts were forming in his head about the many things he would do with her and her body while she was his. "I am glad to see you understand your place, Saber. I am your Master, Shinji Matou. I want you to tell me your true name and strip. I want to inspect your body to insure that there was nothing faulty during the summoning." Shinji spoke with a smirk as his eyes sparkled with a clearly lustful intent; there was a bulge beginning to grow in his pants already and the size and thickness was impressive from even a distance from what Saber could see.</s>

Being the Princess of the Sun was a glorious thing. When everypony looked up to you, it was hard not to be filled with pride. Not so much pride at oneself but rather pride at seeing how those you served grew and developed into their own. Seeing a young foal go from barely able to stand on her legs to a powerful speaker and leader was one of the most satisfying things in Celestia's life. She had seen it firsthand with her own star pupil and her friends. Yet it wasn't just there that the seeds of growth she helped to plant grew. Many of those in her court she had known since they were starting out, and now she had cultivated a castle filled with those that she could trust, rely on, and call upon when needed. Unfortunately, there were things that she couldn't call upon her friends nor her underlings to help solve for her. Currently, a pony named Sunny Shores was standing in front of a strange shop. The mare stood slightly shorter than the average pony, with a pure white coat and pink hair that was drawn back into braids. Her eyes were a shining blue, and her tail was cut short and perked upwards. She had on a very plain light yellow sundress, one that was just common enough not to draw attention, yet fashionable enough to travel through the streets of Canterlot without looking out of place. She had on a large brown rimmed hat and pink sunglasses, along with small high heels that clacked as she walked. It seemed she was going more for the 'innocent mare on the street' feeling, which worked out well for her since she was going anywhere but innocent. With a small inhale, "Sunny" stepped forward and gently opened the door to the shop. There was an electric tingle that went through her as she did. She was about to embark on something rather risque for anypony, let alone a Princess. She was about to go into something that she hadn't indulged in far too long: desire. If this mare she was recommended to was to show her anything, it would be something that she had desperately lacked in her own life: true, and complete, submission. With one more sigh, she opened up the door to the shop and stepped inside.

And as "Sunny" went through the door, a chipper bell jangled. At first glance, The Gilded Bridle seemed like just another clothier or perhaps an eccentric boutique selling fancy hauling tack. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't until one saw that those weren't tops but corsets, those straps and nuckles weren't for pulling heavy things but holding one down. Still, the place was decorated welcomingly, albeit with a few darker colors than was typical. The layout was much like a wagon wheel, the central area wide and filled with more pedestrian lingerie and corsetry, while the spokes of the wheel were alcoves outfitted with all manner of leather gear. Tall, shiny boots here, a full hood there, and in between were things that only an experienced pony could identify. In the back, a small sign reading "Toys" pointed up the stairs. That was where the knock of steps came from. "One moment!" called the rich voice from above, and soon a mare appeared, trotting quickly down. Her coat a dark plum while her mane and tail were both a brilliant silver, the former styled to drape down to bubble down the left side of her face. Her lean figure was presented politely in a burgundy leather vest, contrasting with the bright and colorful gypsy skirt that danced around long legs as she came down. The unicorn's violet eyes brightened at the sight of Sunny. "Well hello." The offered smile was welcoming, reassuring. This was someone she'd never seen before, one who looked downright demure, and she didn't want to scare a curious mare off. "How can I help you?"</s>

"You heard me the first time!" Hermione snapped at the pale blonde boy standing in front of her. It was already utterly humiliating that she'd had to say it the first time, enough to inflame her usually pale cheeks, pink threatening to fill in the freckles between. She tucked a loose strand of her curly light brown hair behind an ear, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Perhaps realizing that biting the boy's head off when she desperately needed his help, she shifted awkwardly. A lip went between teeth for a few moments as she tried to gather herself: "Sex with Ron has been incredibly lackluster, and everyone says that you're one of the best at... sex in Hogwarts. So I want us to start... sleeping together so that I can figure out what's wrong." Even saying the words made Hermione's gut twist into knots. It sounded crazy, but she was counting on Malfoy to not think much beyond his dick. She knew that he hated her; the feeling was very much mutual. But he was still very much a male, and she had pulled out all the stops to make herself look quite appealing when she put in the effort. She'd done it before, during the Yule Ball, applying several charms to tame her usually wild curls. Expertly applied makeup helped enhance her already pleasing features, which had a nice mixture of the girl next door quality and classic beauty. The freckles certainly helped, which seemed to grow more intense with embarrassment, as did the expressive brown eyes. She may not be overly busty, but her breasts were still perky and firm. Even with the Hogwarts uniform, it was quite clear the eighteen year old girl was quite a beauty. And it was quite well known that she was dating Ron Weasley, who, along with his best friend Harry Potter, were currently not at the school finishing up their education. The Ministry of Magic had offered them an early admission into the Auror program as a result of everything they'd done fighting Voldemort. They'd greedily taken it, but Hermione had been determined to give her education the proper finish. That did mean she was technically an eighth year taking her seventh year studies, including some advanced bits, but considering that she was one of the Heroes of Hogwarts, she got some leeway. That she also happened to be the Smartest Witch of her Generation probably didn't hurt matters either. Yes, the Dark Lord had been defeated, supposedly for good, and all should be well. Except it was never that easy. They'd recently found out that Voldemort could potentially use Harry to reenter the world. He'd cast a fail safe spell that came into effect the first time Harry had actually slept with someone, which struck everyone as a bit odd, but definitely sneaky. Apparently the idea was that he could possess Harry, impregnate a witch, and be birthed back into the world. Obviously they couldn't do this, so Hermione had delved into forbidden magicks to come up with a plan. She'd countered the curse with one of her own. Supposedly it would allow her own dark emotions to help siphon off Harry's, since she'd done the casting. What she hadn't counted on was that it apparently worked best and counted for sex. And for some reason, the spell had gotten further tangled. It would work the best if she slept with the person whom Harry had felt great animosity toward. Snape and Voldemort were both dead, which left only the blonde Slytherin "prince," Draco Malfoy. Put simply: in order to keep Voldemort sealed for good, to help Harry and Ginny have a happy future, and to keep the wizarding world safe, Hermione Granger had to fuck Draco Malfoy. Which is why she had sent him a message to meet her in the Room of Requirement, which had been... more accommodating than she liked. The closet full of skimpy clothing that perfectly fit her was unnerving enough ,but the various chests of... tools had been outright horrifying. She'd had to research some, and found herself almost tempted to try one or two on her own. There were some quite clever devices in there. At least the room had produced a rather spacious and comfortable bed. Hermione didn't want to think about the obvious shackles placed in key areas to bind someone, or the fact that in addition to the bed, there were several other bits of furniture in all shapes and sizes. Put simply, even an idiot would be able to tell that the room had been shaped for sex. But it was a little unnerving just how far it had gone. Supposedly the room reacted to need... did... did this mean that Hermione wouldneed to use all this? A thought best left for later. For now, she had to fully convince Draco of this whole... thing.

Draco Malfoy had clearly heard Hermione the first time, but he simply had to hear her say it again. His trademark sneer was on his face as he listened to her stammer out her request for a second time, enjoying every delicious second of her blushing, fidgeting and squirming discomfort. She was a better actress than he imagined; she almost sounded as if she was serious! Draco snorted, his pale grey eyes dancing around the oddly decorated Room of Requirements. Someone had evidently gone out of their way with this prank, including thinking up a "need" that would generate a bed, complete with the restraints, his favorite adjustable riding table (the kind for riding girls, not horses, of course), various other pieces of sexual paraphernalia that frankly he was curious to explore, and what looked like chests of sex toys and dressers of slutty clothing. Who put you up to this, Granger? Draco said, the dry chuckle he gave her left no doubt he was on to the joke. A thought popped into his head and his eyes narrowed. Or is it Pansy? How did you get ahold of some polyjuice potion, you dirty whore? Pansy was quite bitter now that hed found a number of new and sluttier Slytherin girls to help satiate his needs and she wasn't sharing his bed as often as before. A scowl appeared. It better not be Goyle, for that matter, that would be just creepy. Returning to Hogwarts for his final year had been a test of ego for Draco. After the defeat of Voldemort and with his and his family's name tarnished by association with the Death Eaters, the easier thing would have been to finish his studies at Malfoy Manor quietly and out of public scrutiny. Yet, despite what his critics said, notably Potters Mud, no she was Potter's Muggle-born sidekick now, that stood before him, he did care about Hogwarts and Slytherin in particular, and with his beloved House in shambles after the Battle of Hogwarts, he felt it his duty to return and attempt to restore honor to Slytherin by showing that crimes could be forgiven, and that Slytherins could still make the right choice. Of course, hed taken solace in the fact that Harry and Ron were not returning, choosing instead to become Aurors, so he wouldn't have to see their smug faces or watch them be worshipped by the students and faculty alike for an entire year. Draco and the Malfoys had played a pivotal role in defeating Voldemort, yet no one lauded them as heroes! Instead, he knew they whispered slurs behind his back about how hed disarmed Dumbledore on behalf of the Death Eaters. He hoped Hermione would skip the final year as well, so the trio would be out of mind, but evidently, despite the fact she could ace her final O.W.L.s easily, she decided to return to get her official diploma in typical overachieving fashion. Well, at least to date they'd been civil, if a bit cool to each other. Still, as he studied Hermiones embarrassed face, he felt a little heat rise in his loins at the idea of fucking her, joke or not. Draco was a lusty young man and as much as he wished that Hermione was as unattractive as she was annoying, he couldn't deny she had a certain innocent beauty that caught his eye. Today in particular it looked like shed done herself up a bit more than usual, her disgusting rats nest of curls was somehow tamed into luxurious waves, and she'd put on more makeup than normal, giving her fresh and natural face a sluttier appearance that Draco actually found quite appealing. He ran his hand through his silver blonde hair as he thought about how to respond, and then the sneer returned. Lets see where this goes, even if shes trying to play me for the fool. I don't know your game yet, Granger, said Draco, a smug look on his face. But your lackluster sex is no doubt because its with Ron Weasley. If you are serious, which I still highly doubt, Ill gladly show you what its like to be fucked by a real Pureblood, although its likely youll never look at your freckle-faced, penniless boyfriend again after me. He paused, expecting some punchline or surprise after he'd agreed. And if you are still serious, you have to ask me for real. For my girls, that means getting down on their knees, taking off that sweater and shirt, and showing me those Muggle titties youve been hiding from me all these years. Then, and only then, ask me to teach you how to fuck. There, that command would flush out whether she was pulling his leg. And if she wasn't, well she would hopefully be pulling something else very shortly.</s>

Cracked roads, weary old walls and a poorly groomed architecture to crowd the territory; gothic ambience of Gotham certainly displayed a major divergence from the city that housed the iconic T shaped building where the titans operated from. A less intruding city for sure. And a lack of sunlight at these later hours of the night wasnt enough to hide this large towns infamous corruption. Even the mere act of walking through its shady alleys made the young heroine feel dirty. Although she could be considered to be foreign to Gotham, the young woman was acquainted with crime and misdeeds, which this place had a dark reputation for offering plenty. Appearance-wise, the pale titan, who paid the city a hopefully short-term visit, did actually fit Gothams dark nights rather well. Distinct moodiness that accompanied her presence blended in with the musky environment as if the 20-year-old crime fighter belonged here. Especially after dusk, the smart move would have been to stay away from suspicious dark corners of the town. A good advice the titan, who travelled alone, didn't necessarily need to follow. She wasn't scared to venture deep. After all, she was no ordinary citizen or human for that matter. A demonic heritage crawled under her skin, Raven packed a surprisingly hard punch. Not in a literal sense perhaps, since her petite frame imposed no real physical threat, but the powerful magic she possessed made her a considerable opponent. Thanks to the mystical abilities she had, the blue-haired demon hybrid would consider herself to be the strongest among her own band of heroes. Plenty of arrogance came with her powers. Enough reason to make her think that any lowly outlaw who ran wild in this place was just out of her league. Her pale legs shone out in darkness, giving the night some contrast whenever she took a step forward. Muddy water splashed under one of her boots as Raven stepped on a small puddle. Wonderful She paused to look down for a second. Her costume didn't hinder her motion as the blue-haired heroine kept moving. A dark leotard hugged her form closely and left her pretty legs bare. Tight fabric of her costume took the shape of her alluring frame, following her soft curves to define them rather well. They were not open to a bystander's admiration though. A hooded cloak draped over her shoulders and curtained the pleasant view of her lithe body. In this shady part of the city, where the narrow alleyways formed a complex maze, it was easy to get lost. Every building Raven walked by looked like the next. They all looked very similar to each other in fact. Her immediate mission was to uncover a villain's malignant plans. An evil project that could spread beyond Gotham's borders. A side objective would be making one of the villain's goons talk. Unlike others, the young heroine didn't opt to use a map or a technological gizmo to find her way around. She trusted her senses and liked to follow her instincts. Tonight too, they wouldn't let her down. Her violet eyes examined a distinct figure in the distance. Interesting. The young heroine talked to herself. Under the moonlight, she began to follow him, not feeling the need to hide her presence behind the man. Unhurried steps of the woman led her to a dead end where her target stood. Isn't it past your bedtime? Soft thuds of her boots stopped a few feet away from the figure. Want me to tell you a story? Although the heroine didn't stand tall, her confidence made up for that, almost.

It took a while for him to find it, but after fumbling around the darkness of the alley, he finally felt the mark on the wall signifying the drop was here. Crouching down, he coughed into his hands before feeling the brick around mark.Two bricks left, one brick down.He repeated the code to himself in his head, his fingers tracing to the left, feeling the edge of the next brick, then the next.Two bricks left, one brick down.Moving his fingers down on brick, he felt it shift as he pressed against it. Yes, this was it. Pushing it in, he felt a contraption click and a small hatch beneath his fingers opened. Inside was the package his boss wanted. After carefully placing it into his duffle bag,Sethplaced the brick back into place. He wore a black jacket over his brown t-shirt. He disliked the typical hooded jacket the other henchmen went for, as he thought it made them look obviously shady. At least he could pretend to look good and normal instead of like a street thug. Looking behind him, he saw nothing, met with only the dark silence of the alley. Good. Sighing in relief, he breathed heavily for a few seconds before going back up and towards the main streets. He had to make it back as soon as possible, but he didn't want to attract any attention running around the backalleys at this time of the night. He had an important package on him, one that could secure his promotion once he delivered it safely. It had taken him months to get to this rank within the organisation, and he wasn't going to let a small or stupid mistake cost him all the hard work he had done. He only got one step forward when the figure appeared in front of him.Wha-Who the hell was this?He was surprised at the feminine voice that rang out. He looked up to see hooded figure, her womanly outline clear even in the darkness.Oh no, was this one of them superheroes the boss always talked about? "Wha-what do you mean, I was just heading back home." His body was unconsciously shrinking in her presence. There was something mysterious and dangerous about her that he really didn't want to find out about. No normal woman would dress like that with a leotard and cape. As he looked down to avoid her eyes, he glimpsed her smooth, pale legs. Mesmerised by them, he stared for a few seconds before blinking away. "Did you want something from me?" He asked. He was going to play off his innocence. He didn't see and hear anyone when he entered the alley, so he was sure she didn't know what he was up to. She probably stopped him just because he was acting shady in the middle of the night. "I couldn't sleep so I just came out for some fresh air."</s>

This is only temporary, Joseph Kerrings reminded himself. Being an enforcer paid good cash for a relatively easy job. Plus, being able to make people . . . "disappear" also provided side benefits for the start of his own business. Most times, Vinnie and the owners had him take care of those whose debts were impossible to pay off, or they were "convinced" to pay them back in full with interest. But sometimes, it was just to get rid of someone poking around in their affairs. Every once in a while, his eyes would look up from the deck of cards he held in his pale white hands to scan the room for any targets, shuffling them absentmindedly. For now, it was clear. Joseph was leaning in a chair by the back room, the majority of his body and face bathed on shadows. It was clear, however, that he was dressed to kill; black shoes and slacks, a tucked in white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway, and a neat, deep purple tie with an emerald green tip. On his head was a red-lined fedora, tilted halfway down, where his wide. menacing smile was visible from across the room. A few minutes later, his gaze flickered upwards as Vinnie approached him, obviously ready to say something. "Listen, Jok-" the redhead was cut short by a hardened glare from Joseph's eyes. They knew his true name, yes, but his very specific instructions were to never say it in the vicinity of Spades. He didn't desire any unwanted attention from the authorities or - gods forbid - the Bat itself. "Joseph. I need you on the lookout for a blonde bitch by the name of Harleen, all right? She likes to mess in other people's business, especially mine, so she'll likely be here in the club tonight. So, uh . . . do what you hafta do, yeah?" requested Vinnie. Joseph listened to him stammer on, his gaze catching something else across the room. He snorted loudly, before that snort morphed into a sickening stream of laughter, Joseph's smile even larger as he stood up, patting Vinnie on the shoulder. His laughter was calming down, but before it did, it scared the living shit out of everyone that could hear it. "I got ya, Vinnie-boy! You just have fun, and I'll look for this, uh . . . 'dame'," he said, stepping out into the light, briefly allowing onlookers to catch a glimpse of his bright green, combed back hair and pale, milky skin. Making his way over to the security room, he borrowed access to the cameras so he could get a good look at everyone in sight. Was this Harleen broad on her way, or was she already here? Only time would tell as Joseph would lean back in the armchair, kicking his feet up as he scoured the live feeds.

"You left him?" "Was never with him to begin with," The blonde grinned, shrugging a single shoulder. The thing with Harleen was that she was something most people would call a gold-digger, only instead of being with them purely for their money - she wasn't with them at all. She flirted her way inside their houses, stole a few things including money, and then left without a trace. Her latest victim? Some douche named Vinnie. It wasn't as simple as stealing from him, though. You see, his bitch or whatever he called her had caught the blonde, and almost immediately broke things off with the man himself. And fuck, he was not happy. Blowing out a breath, she turned her gaze to the woman standing behind her."Then why are you here? At his club?" "Because," Harleen started."Where's the fun if you don't stay around and fuck with 'em some more?" She was sporting a black-lace up dress, with black heels to match. Perfect attire for a club such as the one Vinnie owned. She wasn't a bitch - nor was she cold-hearted, this lifestyle was merely something she had picked up from her father a few months before he dipped. Her mother was a no-show pretty much her entire life and so she had nobody but herself. How else was she supposed to live? Besides it wasn't like they weren't getting anything out of it, they were being given attention by a beautiful female, somebody they probably would've never been able to catch the eye of in another lifetime. She was doing them a favor. Allowing a small smile to curve at her lips she sauntered towards the bar, gaze trained on the bartender."Whiskey please." Shifting herself onto the stool she rested her elbows on the table, placing her chin in the palm of her hand.</s>

Tiala was bored. Not that being bored was bad, of course! In a lot of ways, being bored was good. It meant no one was entering her cargo bay who wasn't supposed to be there. It meant no one was investigating hership, which had been in a few run-ins with the law. Most importantly, it meant no one was taking too close a look at the cargo containers she'd had unloaded. A brief check would show them to be full of very boring scrap metal. A more thorough check might find more exciting, but highly illegal, spice. So yes, boredom was good. Still... Tiala sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, crossing her bare blue arms over her chest. She was dressed casually, in her dark synthleather smuggling pants and boots, synthleather jacket casually over her shoulders, and white tank top beneath. The thin fabric of that top did little to conceal her generous breasts, full and firm, a hint of blue cleavage visible with the low neckline. Indeed, Tiala was a beautiful woman, even for a Twi'lek, a species already known for its beauty. Something she'd found to be both an advantage and a disadvantage... Tiala shook her head gently, her headtails waving back and forth. Ugh, when was the client going to show up, anyway? She needed to unload this spice and move on to the next job. She was going to need to do a lot more jobs if she ever wanted to pay off her debts. A frown settled on her pretty face, foot beginning to tap as she waited.

As Tiala shifted on her feet, an Imperial port official approached her in the snapped black uniform that they all wore. Many ports had transitioned quite easily to Imperial rule and the extra taxes and tariffs on some goods had allowed port officials to become rich off of bribes to subvert them. This man was young, likely only in his mid twenties with short brown hair and hazel eyes. "Excuse me, are you the captain of that XS Freighter in Bay X2-05?" The man called out to her, his voice firm and commanding; it seemed like the man was used to giving orders. He stepped towards her, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, he knew something. His eyes shifted to gaze at her cleavage before moving to look her straight in the eyes as he cleared his throat. "You're hiding some spice in that ship of yours. Don't bother trying to lie, I already have the proof." He stopped her denial upfront before she could even say anything as his eyes narrowed slightly, curious as to how she would react to this sudden news.</s>

Marley Scott didn't know what to think of everything. Four days ago she had been getting home from a quick holiday trip to San Francisco to see an old friend of hers, and now she was trapped behind tall, metal fences with a military presence and little idea of what was going on outside. She had heard the news of course, and had seen the videos, but beyond that she had no idea what was happening outside the walls - she didn't even know how her own cat was because she happened to be at her friend Clare's when the military moved in and she had not been allowed to leave. For the last three days, the redhead had been rather wary. As a teenager she'd been in this neighbourhood many times before - not because it was her own, but because a friend she had made back when she was twelve and first in foster care had lived here. For all she knew he still did, or at least sometimes - and had it been any other person she would have found the idea of reuniting to be amazing. It wasn't, though. The Clark's kid had once been her best friend, especially back in high school. They had both been loners, both been angry at their "families" and both found comfort and solace in having someone who understood what it was like to feel like you had nothing even when you did. Marley didn't fall down the same rabbit hole that he had, though. Drugs had torn her best friend away from her as she watched him go from pot to pills to coke to... hell, she didn't even know what he'd gone to next. For a few years they'd popped in and out of each other's lives. He would be clean and she would hope and pray that this time he would stay that way - he didn't. In the end it was too much for her, and she couldn't stand having her heart broken by one person so much. After a brief reuniting in college back when she was nineteen, Marley hadn't laid eyes on Nick Clark since. Until now it seemed. The noon sun beat down hard on the LA suburb as everyone made their way central to pick up rations for the day. Marley was at her friend's side when she first swore she saw his face - and still there half a minute later when she became sure of who she was seeing just feet away from her. Fuck.

Addiction was a fiend - and if Nick Clark tried to say that he was done dealing with withdrawal symptoms just days after the last time he used, he was straight up lying to people. Sure he wasn't shivering and shaking and seizing any more, but his veins itched like a motherfucker and he swore it would never end. Rationally he knew it would, that in a week or two he'd feel a bit more human again, but he didn't want to wait a week and he didn't want to feel human. Like time and time again, all he wanted to feel was high - but now they seemed to live in a world that wouldn't afford him that pleasure. Just a week ago he had watched his girlfriend saunter towards him with gaunt, grey skin and sunken eyes and the blood of one of their other junkie friends all over his face - he'd put a bullet in his friend slash dealer not even a day later. At first he had just been minding his own business, walking alongside his sister and mother towards where the military had set up a station. It was rations day which meant that they were being given a supply of basic necessities, and he had come along at his mother's insistence. As soon as he got there he wished he hadn't though - because though the dead were literally walking, it seemed that the metaphor was running true as well. Was that Marley? It only took a minute for his heart to sink as he realized that the curly haired girl just a few people away was in fact an old friend... and someone he knew he had disappointed time and time again. He immediately felt awkward, especially when she looked over to him just a second later and the same quizzical expression formed on her face that had likely been on his moments earlier. Confusion turned to understanding turned to -oh. He should probably do something about that, so he put his hands in his pockets and told his family he would be back in a moment before strolling over towards the redhead. "Uh... Hey, Mar. It's been a while."</s>

Before the Cataclysm that split Neo Domino City in two, the entirety of the city was a shining utopia. Efficiency was at its peak, new Dueling technologies were being developed and refined year after year. And just three years before the tragic explosion that rocked the continent and world, the first prototypes of mobile Dueling Platforms - commonly referred to by either "D-Wheelers" or "Duel Runners" by the Duelists that used them now - were being alpha-tested. At the same time, a giant network of elevated roadways was also underdevelopment. Roads that would rise up and connect out to allow these "Turbo Duels" go unabated without impeding traffic or endangering pedestrians, enabling Duelists to add an entire new dimension to the aspect of Duels. Naturally, the first models were only available to the elite...And they turned out to be a huge success. So much so that Neo Domino's Board of Dueling Regulations and Customs worked tirelessly to have the Turbo Duels and Platforms authorized as legitimate, marketable items to be used on an international scale. However...Once the Cataclysm struck, that was put on hold. Even more so when the aftermath revealed that a large chunk of the continent had somehow splintered off and formed its own island...And despite calls to have a bridge built to help those stranded on the now water-bound island, the project was started but never finished. A decision passed down by the new Director, Rex Godwin. Citing security concerns, he called off the island's reconnection efforts, a decision that was quickly silenced from protest. Fast-forward five years, and this is where the story begins. The entirety of the now named "Satellite District" was almost always choked in smog. A by-product from the various mills, garbage disposal plants and recycling centers that were once part of Neo Domino's Industrial Sector, only graced with reprieve by the periodic and strong oceanic winds. Now all of the 'menial labor' was here. Anyone who wanted to work could only do so as anything from a metalworker, garbage collector or recycling facility employee. Class mobility was heavily restricted if not downright impossible, and the meager wages made keeping up with living expenses very difficult. Because of this, the majority of the youth formed Duel Gangs to try and seize control of territory. An effort that was hampered by the Director's own Public Security Maintenance Bureau, or just affectionately named "Sector Security" by the citizens of the Satellite. A group that was now holding off people from a supply drop overseen by the Satellite Aid Commission, a department that worked to establish regular shipments of basic necessities to the downtrodden citizens. Naturally, the rich disapproved, but there were enough kind-hearted people still in the "Tops" that the act of it passed without much resistance. And from here, there was one Duelist that had been 'in the game' since he was in his pre-teens. Now at 17, Hotsuma Kuroi was on his way back from the said drop; he'd gotten food, clean water and medicine. A heavy black duster covered a simple but ragged grey shirt, navy cargo pants and black combat boots, studded-knuckle biking gloves leaving only his fingers exposed. His hair a mess and his eyes showing a bit of fatigue from having to do so much with so little, much like most residents of the Satellite. He had a real junker of a Runner. Something someone from the Tops had scrapped due to a series of bad parts...But now he had used it to get around and find things that were needed. And it was especially useful for this; he'd always been an odd duck, especially with his latent abilities. It was one reason why he'd gotten as far as he did...But in truth, he was always scared to even try using them, because people got hurt. Even if it was in self-defense, he wasn't a malicious guy...But because of his deck choice and powers, however unstable they were, he'd gotten a fairly demeaning moniker. The 'Demon of the Satellite'...In truth, he just wanted to be left alone. At least that was until he met her...It hadn't been easy, but the two had formed an early friendship after discovering they were quite similar in a lot of respects. They'd known each other for a few years now, and as it stood? He couldn't imagine being without her; she had a way of brightening up his day. "Finally back...Thought for sure this thing was going to die out before I made it." Hotsuma muttered as he started to gather the items from the side-carriers, the run-down machine giving a few sputters before it finally shut off. Thankfully he didn't have to walk up any stairs, but this stuff was heavy; he'd gone alone because of their current situation. Plus, with another guest, his friend had decided to stay behind as she was most familiar with the particulars. Opening the door to the little shanty house, he then said as he slipped off his boots, "Ugh...I'm back! It's me, Hotsuma!" he would call out, carefully balancing the things in his hands and arms as he made his way inside.

Fey took a deep breath, wearing a white dress with a black leather jacket, brown cowgirl boots, and her leg bracers with charged markers full. She was finishing tightening her ponytail on her long brown hair as she glanced over. "Hotsuma! Why didn't you ask for help?" She rushed over to help carry some of the supplies in. Her brown eyes did a once-over as she heard her mother from her corner bed, "Fey, let the man be a man...stop hurting his pride." Fey pouted hearing her mother as she walked over to check the oxygen machine. "Yes, mom," she said, rolling her eyes. "Geez, sometimes I wonder if dad and you were made for each other." The mother glared at her, snapping, "Don't ever say that!" Fey frowned as she went over to place food in the fridge. She would glance at Hotsuma as she spoke, "Hey, I know you like me staying here and working on the bike...but you could just use supplies from my bike that I had back at the old tournament I worked...it has better parts even if they are flashy." She paused as she spoke, "Remember when we met two years ago..." Two Years Prior. The smog was settling in as the night grew darker. A woman had a younger girl hanging onto her waist, they were on one of those high class bikes with lights on the side and a holder for a card deck and duel disk. The woman seemed in a rush and they had bags in the passenger car attached to the side. Sirens could be heard in the far distance. The girl's leg braces lit up from the whooshing bike as it turned the corner. A few guys wearing leather stud jackets with skulls paused seeing this rich bike with rather fancy clothes and smirked. The one with the Mohawk slapped another's shoulder as he revved his engine following. The woman turned down an alley at a dead end and was coughing up blood. "MOM!" Fey quickly got off the bike checking on her mother. The young 14-year-old was trying to aid the older woman as she muttered, "I really messed up your birthday....your father saw your gift...i..i couldn't let him take you to some lab." Fey paused as she got her mother the medicine from her bag before pausing hearing the bikes. "My My My if it isn't the great Gadget...nice to see a ring girl for the tournaments down here with the rest of us....you forgot you need to pay the entry fee to enter." Fey backed up as her dark magician girl outfit was clearly showing...it seemed as if the mother took her before a job. "Say aren't you suppose to be at some big event.... you must be in a real sticky situation....we can protect you pretty things for a fee..." Fey tensed up as she saw the men starting to corner them. "Get behind me Fey." The mom stepped in front as she felt her hair get grabbed and started to struggle. The mow hawk leader stepped forward as he raised his hand. Fey let out a scream charging and kicking the man in the shin before being backhanded to the ground. "Take their things....we can use the girl for ransom her dad is rich after all." One of the men was watching as he had an almost lustful look. "Can we play with..." "NO SHE IS A DAMN MINOR DO YOU WANT TO DIE...HER FATHER IS NOT ONE TO MESS WITH!"</s>

Richard Grayson was a man of many talents. Not only was he an acrobat but he was also a detective, crimefighter, leader, hero, and lover depending on who was asked. All the same, it was still strange walking up to the doors of Shadowcrest. The place was magic alright. He was lucky Z liked him or he would have never found this place without calling first. But where would the fun be in dropping in on a magician if you couldn't surprise them? Someone had to keep the trick makers on their toes right? Besides, she wouldn't turn him out, would she? Who could resist him when he gave them that smile and asked for a little favor? He smirked to himself at the thought. She could kick him out with ease if she wanted to. He just figured she wouldn't. Dick headed up the stairs towards the door and knocked. It had been a while since he'd seen her. He'd gone off to take care of Bludhaven as Nightwing, and while she'd done a show or two there, she'd never stayed long. It wasn't a grand city like Gotham. He'd spent a good year or three now working on cleaning up those streets. A few bumps here and there that needed recovery. Making his own version of a Batcave there without quite as much financial support. Flipping over rooftops in the fresh air and using his escrima sticks to knock sense into criminals. Or just knock them out with all the evidence needed to arrest them in a fair trial. He wasn't Batman. He made sure there was surefire proof when he left criminals out like a light. No weaseling out of court on a technicality. But for the moment, for now? For now, he wanted a little freedom. He'd been there fighting crime for a few years. He still loved what he did and loved that city but he needed to rest. Everyone needed rest whether they admitted it or not. Gotham was an odd choice, perhaps, given his history with it, but he thought that with Z around maybe he could get some rest in. Maybe a few longer nights than others but that was a different kind of relaxation. At the moment, clad in jeans and a shirt with the Nightwing symbol emblazoned on it that he'd bought in Bludhaven on a lark, he stood at the front doors of Shadowcrest with a suitcase at his side and a smile on his face hoping she'd let him in.

As he knocked on the door, he wouldn't initially receive a response, the grand manor seeming abandoned from what Dick could see from the front door, no lights on...almost as if its mistress was away for any number of reasons. That is until he felt his feet go numb suddenly before the front door swung open to an unlit interior, his body gliding along the floor inside of it's own accord before he heard the door slam shut and lock itself shut. "Well now...I certainly wasn't expecting visitors, but I guess I can make an exception for a tired little bird in this case." Came Zatanna's sultry and silky voice, sounding amused at his presence as it let out a small chuckle. "Let go of the suitcase, I'll take care of it. I'm in the den which I'm sure you can manage to walk to without collapsing." Her voice continued, the former boy wonder finding his suitcase disappear from sight the moment he released its handle, along with a gentle nudge forward to urge him to go find his hostess where she said she was present. Upon entering the den, he found her laying on a chaise lounge, wearing only a black silken bathrobe that gave him an unrestricted view of her lusciously long and shapely legs, which were often encased in her famous fishnets. In front of a laptop, which she closed before looking up at Dick. "Good morning Dick dear, come sit with me would you?" She asked in a honey sweet tone, possibly making Dick wonder whether or not she was flirting with him as she sat up in her seat and curled a beckoning finger at him. "So how has Bludhaven been since the last time I performed here? Can't be good if you're looking as exhausted as you do. Can I get you coffee or tea or would you rather come lay down beside me to take a little snooze first?" She next asked, her tone telling him of her sudden concern about how exhausted he looked while her eyes held a playfully mischievous glint.</s>

Goku had long worked to become the best. He'd trained, he'd fought, he'd even defended Earth a few times, and he'd collected the Dragon Balls with his friends. One such friend was Bulma Briefs. She'd run into him years ago and she'd run into him again at the 23rd World Tournament. When she'd seen him last he was young but now he was taller. He'd finally and properly grown into his own. Not only that but his power had grown too as he fought and beat Tienshenhan who had proved to be a worthy opponent after beating him last time. Piccolo was the strongest among them though and the battle had decided much more than the fate of just the championship. At the end of it all, however, the arena was destroyed but Goku was the champion. He'd celebrated with a hearty meal during which time he realized he didn't have a place to stay. After a conversation Bulma agreed to host him at her place and he was fine with that. She'd enticed him into it saying she had some ideas for training devices and he was in before she could blink twice almost. Fighting was basically his world. And now here he was. He'd only been staying there for a few days now if that. Most of his time was spent doing his normal routine of waking up, eating, training, eating, training, resting for a little bit, training, and so on. He was almost scarily good at refining his form. It wasn't that he didn't relax, he did, but unless Bulma wanted his attention for something he was often training or thinking about it more than doing anything else. Today, however, was going to be exciting. Bulma had told him she was working on something and he was eager to find out. Considering how smart she was he knew it was going to be amazing. How much better was he going to be able to train? He was dressed as he always was in his Hermit style Gi. It was hard to break the habit and he was just comfortable in it. It was flexible and gave him plenty of room of motion. Beyond that he could just wash it easily with a dip in the water if he needed to. Sure they had machines for that but he didn't think about that too much. Goku had always been pretty free spirited so he was still used to just flying all over the place, going to new areas, training, and coming back. It was just a part of who he was. But if she'd made some kind of training device for him then, well, he had a reason to stick around more during the day didn't he? He scratched his head as he waited for Bulma to lead him in or tell him what he should be excited for. Just what was it? At this point, and it had only been a moment since she'd told him that it was basically ready, he was already eager to try it and the smile on his face said that.

Bulma had spent the last few months plotting a scheme for Goku. Now, it wasn't something nefarious. It also wasn't something that she would be unafraid to tell Goku about, as she had no reason to do anything like that to him. No, her scheme was centered around getting Son Goku's attention. She never thought that Goku would have grown into such a hunk but he had. No longer was he the monkey-like boy, he was a man, and what a man he was. He was decidedly not an easy target for romance. Romance was something that he was completely unaware of, as he had told Bulma in the past few months that he thought marriage was something you ate. His knowledge of affection seemed to be whoever fed him the best dinner or who could throw the hardest punch. Bulma, although she wasn't helpless, certainly couldn't throw a punch like him. So, her tactics had to lie somewhere in the middle of the two. Playing off his love of food, his love of training and everything else. A training device was something that she had thought about for years. It was at first an idea to get Goku to stay in one place so he wouldn't cause too much trouble, even if it might upset her mom and dad having him stay at Capsule Corp for too long. Which was fair, as Goku might have broken some things if he was left to his own devices there. Goku was better behaved around Bulma, at least she thought so. He wasn't as crazy at the very least and she had the fire in her spirit to hold him back if he did anything wrong. Which was more than possible with how clueless Goku was and how clueless he seemed to stay. If anyone hadn't changed at all, it was Goku. Bulma was fashionable as always, even if she seemed to change her look every few weeks. Today, she had decided to wear something casual. A lab coat draped over her body, though it was wrinkled in a few areas, telling Goku that she probably hadn't decided to iron it. She was wearing a light green tank top underneath, which showed some midriff. There also was a generous amount of cleavage to the outfit. Goku was clueless but even he would notice a rack like that, right? She hoped, otherwise part of the plan had already failed. When Goku arrived, she ran into place and waved over at him. Hey, come on in, Goku. Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was just doing the finishing touches on your gift. So, lets hop right in and see whats happening, okay? Bulma said with a friendly smile, though she had a different tone of voice than usual. Slower, more focused on Goku himself.</s>

The day it all started The day it all started was a very special day. But the thing about 'very special days' is that they're only recognized as such in hindsight. Sure, after a few years, one is gonna go about saying 'the signs were all there' and 'if only I'd been more observant'. But the truth was that nobody noticed it. Because the day in question was not special from beginning to end, and it was certainly not special for everyone. It started as a normal, same-as-everyday kind of day. People went about their business, getting to work, enjoying their weather, doing whatever the fuck they wanted. It was just another day. At least for all but one person. After waking up on this far too sunny day (why was it already this hot when it wasn't even summer yet?) Felix knew today had to be 'the day'. It had taken him a shamefully long time to finally gather enough courage for him to even attempt thinking about a confession - but that would all end today. He simply knew it! Was it the sun which filled him with confidence, the beautiful dream he had of her last night, with their skin pressing against each other, sweaty hair mixing through their passionate tumbling... he shook his head. As much as he wanted to remember this dream - he would probably write in his diary later on - he needed to prep himself for today. Stepping in front of the mirror in his room he eyed his reflection. His short brown hair, his soft facial features giving him the look of a rather young person, his toned body (he did not work out for no reason, after all) - all good. Sure, he wasn't the tallest guy, but hey - size was overrated. He more than made up for it with sheer charm, intelligence and modesty. Yes, his looks were fine, but it was his personality that would really win her over. He eyed the outfit he had prepared for today: a short shirt that accentuated his build, slim jeans and his trademark cap. After a quick shower he would go outside and finally make her his and his alone. Yet as he let his mind wander, the images of his dream replayed vividly like a movie in a theater. Oh, how he longed to see her, to feel her, to touch her supple skin and smell her scent! Her body was temptation and her smile pure seduction! Other people would probably kill for her, but he was a moderate guy - yet even with his incredible self control he would probably commit a crime if only it meant for her to belong to him and him alone. He closed his eyes, remembering how he had dreamt about letting his hands roam over her body... over her curves... to rip open her outfit and do the things to her every man in existence wanted to do... His hands had traveled downwards while he fantasized about her, soon arriving between his legs. Oh, what harm could a little fun do? The shower could wait, after all. Sweetie, do me a favour and wake up already, will you?" Her mother's voice startled her awake from a dream that had gone on for too long. How long had she slept? Since the sun was already high up on the sky it seemed she had slept in quite a bit. Well, that's what you got from staying up for far too late... A knock on the door made her groan just as her mom spoke again. "Come now, get up already! You know I'll be going soon and I want to say goodbye to my baby girl - preferably not while she's still half asleep! Now, tip top! Get up sleepyhead." She heard a chuckle from just outside the door. Her mother knew she did not care for those nicknames one bit. That was probably her trying to get her agitated, to get her to get up. Well, she was right, after all. They had planned for a shared breakfast before her mother went on her business trip. She was visiting her father a few towns over. He worked as a Pokmon breeder and had gotten involved in a rather important job, one that required him to stay on location for a few months now. Her mother, a reporter for a local radio station by trade, now and then reported on the project, or at least about what was publically available about it. These last few weeks had been rather lonely in this house. Her mother spent half of the day outside, what with her job and all, and her father was away at the project. And today she started her one week vacation with him, both of them deciding to take a break from all this work and getting some peace and quiet for a while - which was probably why she wasn't going with them. "Be honest with us - having the house for yourself isn't actually bad, is it? You need not lie to me. When I was your age, I would've loved to have some peace and quiet from my obnoxious parents!" her mother had said with a laugh. So she had proposed for them to have breakfast together (it had been quite a while since that had last happened, what with their daily schedules and such) and had pestered her about it until she agreed. "I'm still waiting !" her mother said in the kind of annoying sing- sang voice all parents seem to learn how to do to immediately annoy their children.

A low groan echoed off her pink pillow decorated with Squirtels, the waking noises of a teenage girl like the rattle of a snake. Emery's eyelids only faintly came open, an aversion to the light of day that was shining through her window and the open door of her room. This couldn't be happening... how could anyone sound so chipper at this hour? Her head was still on the pillow as her mom began to ask her questions, the nagging incessant enough that she knew she couldn't escape it until she answered. Yeah, I'll get to sleep in once you leave. She tossed the blanket off of herself, a soft white t-shirt and blue panties the only clothing hugging to her slender figure. I wouldn't hold it against you if you just left now and let me sleep... her voice was like gravel as she tried to garner the energy to continue. Her hand slipped downwards on her body, scratching her pubic mound under her panties where a tuft of hair crowned her womanhood. Rolling off the bed, she only barely got one leg to the floor to catch her body before she would have plummeted to the carpet. Groans and moans were the only language she spoke as her mother rushed her along to breakfast. Emery didn't even bother to get further dressed, the comfort of home full of complacency and comfort that the need to cover her panties or put on a bra over her flat chest seemed negligible. Rubbing her eyes, she simply pushed past her door and made her way to the dining room where her mom awaited. Uhhh... good morning, Bingo. She yawned, patting the Arcain on the head as she passed the large fire dog pokemon. In turn, the pokemon's nose began sniffing, poking at the front of her crotch as the essence of her maidenhead wafted through the sensitive pokemon's nose. Stop it, Bingo, she shoved his face back away from her panties, scratching her stomach as she turned the corner to the dining room. Alright, mom... I'm here. You win. Her strides were reluctant as she made her way towards breakfast.</s>

It was cold and dark in the Pokemon Center hostel that morning, a certain chill in the air as the air conditioning ran in overdrive. It was almost for certain that the manager of this particular Pokemon Center in the Northern section of Olivine City was having a hot flash for them to think this was an appropriate temperature. The large room which housed a dozen bunk beds was quiet as a faint light and murmur of activity in the hallway outside began to signal the breaking of a new day. There were no windows in this particular room, the northern section of the coastal city being not the most affluent, and the Pokemon Center followed suit. The plain scraped-up walls and rickety bunk beds left little to be desired as the creaking and scratching of the canvas beds continued through the night. As Gaius awoke from his cold slumber under a thin wool blanket provided by the center, he would recall that he had been visiting Olivine City to be tested for fertility and whether the Orange Flu had taken affect in him. It had been months since the world first learned of the horrendous and frightening virus. At first, the government warned that thousands could die from the blight that ran like wildfire through the population. But as scientists had time to study it and doctors observed many of the patients, they discovered the peculiar nature of the disease. Only about 10% of those infected died, and of those 10%, 95% were male. Of the 90% who survived, the female population had the mildest symptoms with no long-term effects from the disease. However, the true tragedy of the virus was realized all too late as 99% of males infected with Orange Flu saw a loss of fertility and sexual desire. The news of this spread like wildfire through the world, the possibility of the virus's long-term impact being the extinction of humanity and/or devastation to the economy should the birthrate drop too low. Months after the last few cases of the disease were reported, males from across the country were brought to Pokemon Centers to be tested for the long-term affects. The lucky less than 1% being deemed as breeders, given express mandates to spread their seed in the female population as much as they could. It was done so discreetly, the identities of these breeders kept a close secret to avoid reprisals by envious men who now found themselves inept. Gaius himself had just taken the test the day before. He had heard the doctor announce that this Pokemon Center had not gotten a positive test yet for a breeder. The test itself took twelve hours to process and thus all subjects were invited to stay in the Pokemon Center for the night in the usual trainer housing. As morning crept on, Gaius would soon have his life changed, a text arriving on his phone. Gaius, please proceed to Dr. Betters' office at your earliest convenience, please do so with discretion. He would know from yesterday that the doctor's office was just down the hall in the Pokemon Center.

Gaius was used to the searing summer sun beating down on him as he worked the fields at his family Ranch, his skin darkly toned from the long hours hoeing fields, watering plants, fertilizing and harvesting, and that was all before dealing with the Pokemon. It was primarily a stud ranch, giving Gaius an acute understanding of breeding, how to pair pokemon together, get them in the mood for romance, and maximize potential pregnancy. This air-conditioned hostel he was in, attached to the PokeCenter, was... brisk, in a word. He wore his jacket and still shivered occasionally even under the covers of the thin duvet that he had found on the top bunk. It wasn't the first time he had been jealous of pokemon and how they lived in their perfectly climate-controlled pokeballs. Out on the ranch, so removed from the world, the Orange Flu had read like a drama, some overly dramatic TV show. The infectious disease had a high mortality rate, something unusual for the Johto region and newsworthy in itself, but as time had worn on, the news took an even more dramatic turn, not only were the male population down around 8-9% (and the Johto region was already favoring the female population some 52-48%) but on top of this, most men infected had been found to be infertile and almost as many unresponsive to sexual arousal. The weight of the situation had been lost on Gaius until the Orange flu finally made its way to their little Ranch. All of them caught it. No one died of course, but the struggle had been real, trying to clean barns with cold sweats and chills had been harrowing. Several times the miltanks had been unmilked, their udders swollen and crops unharvested. On Government orders he had made his way to Olivine city, though money was tight and he couldn't afford much. He had taken up rooms in the Poke-center. Hearing the buzz from his phone, he picked it up to read the text, it was neutral, giving no hints as to which way the test had gone. His heart sunk... The nerves were getting to him, he was a young, strapping man, this would crush him. Stretching, he rose, fondling the pokeballs in his messenger bag, wondering if he should let his lifelong companion, Riley out to stretch his legs. But no... This was no time to be distracted, there would be a long walk home too, at least a week, maybe two, plenty of time to stretch his legs. Instead he got dressed quickly, skin puckered like gooseflesh at the chill in the air and muttered under his breath about the AC before he made his way down the hall to knock on the door of Dr. Better. It was quiet and he met no one on his way, removing the need to be too discrete, but his stomach was a ball of nerves as he opened the door and slipped inside, taking his seat "So Doctor... What's the verdict? Stud or Sterile?" He inquired, trying to make light of the situation despite the butterfree in his stomach.</s>

It was the twentieth anniversary of the extra-terrestrial visit that had laid waste to a number of remote locations around the Earth, without having made any attempts at making contact with Human civilization, leaving behind zones where the laws of physics had been altered by either their technology or biological remains, in much the same way Humans might leave behind remains after a picnic by the roadside. The event, commonly known as "The Visit," had left behind zones that were mostly uninhabitable for humans. It was also Jamie's twentieth birthday. She had been born at a free clinic run by nuns from the cloister attached to the Cathedral of St Dymphna. For most of her life, Jamie had experienced misery and abuse, which could have broken anyone. But she was also a survivor. After her mother died of an overdose, she bounced around the foster care system and suffered verbal, physical, and sexual abuse at the hands of so many foster parents that she had lost count before ending up in an orphanage run by the very same nuns who had delivered her into this bleak, molested world. It was after running away from the orphanage that she began to exhibit special powers: the ability to camouflage herself against any surface being the first, but she also developed telepathic abilities and a level of agility that would make an Olympic gymnast look like a blind, clumsy child wrapped in pillows on rollerskates. She also had a heightened intuition and often dreamt of things that later happened just as she had dreamt them. It was also after running away from the orphanage that she met Red Schuhart who saw a talent for traveling into The Zone that surrounded the city that had once known its name but abandoned and forgotten it after the event. She was twelve at the time and unlike all other men she had met, Red did not abuse her in any way, physically, verbally or sexually; all he wanted from her was her talent for getting past gravitational anomalies, flesh-eating brawn and other such dangers that made The Zone a place most sane people stayed clear of to get to the treasures it held, like for instance the needles that began to spin if you put the tip against a magnetic surface, and they didn't stop spinning until you physically removed the tip from the magnetic surface, making them a source of infinite energy, a solution to the age old problem of the Perpetuum Mobile. Trained and guided by her mentor Jamie made a fortune for Red and he paid her quite well for it. When Red was presumed dead three years later after failing to return from a solo raid into The Zone just north of the city, in search of the mythical Golden Orb that was rumored to be able to grant wishes, Jamie continued taking missions into The Zone for a while but eventually she stopped because after Red everyone was simply taking advantage of her abilities and talents without paying her nearly enough for her to make a living from it. She began drinking more and more to keep away the nightmares that didn't have the decency to remain nightmares and to numb the memories of the abuse she had been put through, both in her childhood and in the years after Red's presumed death. She also got into other drugs. She began smoking marijuana and taking a wide variety of pills regularly. Having spent all the money Red had paid her in less than two months, she was basically back to living on the streets; however, the manager of the Tabula Rasa Hotel let her stay in one of the smaller rooms in the attic in exchange for certain favors. The sun had only just risen above the horizon and the pinks and yellows had faded into a greyish blue. Jamie took one last drag on her cigarette and crushed it against the concrete floor of the roof before heading back down to her barely habitable room to start the celebration with whatever alcohol or drugs she still had left when her phone indicated the arrival of a new message. It was from Monkey, Red's mutated daughter, one of the first children born to a Stalker - those who made a living by retrieving objects from The Zone. She said she had new information about treasure in the deeper parts of The Zone that was for the most part unexplored. The first message was shortly followed by a second message containing a birthday greeting from Monkey. Monkey still lived with what was left of her mother Guta in a rather less than posh flat, not far from the Tabula Rasa, just a few blocks from the entrance to The Shallows, a part of the city where even before the event people who didn't want to be found went to disappear. It was a labyrinth into which most of the people living in the city hesitated to venture and even fewer came back from. It was also through The Shallows that the safest entrance to the Northern Zone could be reached. Safest once you actually reached it but Jamie had been through the labyrinth enough times with Red to know the way in her sleep. There were creatures living in The Shallows that most people wouldn't be able to conjure up in their worst nightmares. Luckily though, that wasn't where she had agreed to meet with Monkey but rather at a small juice bar called The Orchard because it had access to a fully enclosed and safely guarded plantation of fruits and berries which was then turned into various blends of juice, pures, jams and marmalade. Monkey was fifteen and one of the most beautiful creatures Jamie had ever laid eyes on, despite or perhaps because of her short but silky smooth fur that covered her entire body and was the reason for her nickname. Born five years after the event and one of the first children to have been mutated due to a parent's exposure to the radiation in the zones, Monkey had been born at home and there were no official records or birth certificate since Red had been rightfully paranoid about The Institute kidnapping her to experiment on her. Many children born after Monkey had suffered that fate and none of them had ever been seen again. The meeting was brief. Jamie bought them a pitcher of strawberry and lime juice which they shared while avoiding the topic of Red Schuhart as carefully as they could until Monkey took out a small black, severely water-damaged notebook and placed it on the table in front of Jamie. "Three pages from the back," she said in a rather throaty, only just barely human if that was what she really was, voice. Jamie nodded and turned to the third page from the back and there was a drawing of an orb surrounded by what looked like spiderweb and underneath the drawing was Red's distinctive handwriting: "Like a queen she sits on her invisible throne to judge those who come seeking her grace and grant the deepest wishes and desires of those she deems worthy." It was rather cryptic and even though Jamie had worked long enough with Red to decipher most of his riddles this one had her drawing nothing but blanks. She then flipped through the rest of the notebook which seemed to be a step-by-step map on how to reach the third page from the back. "I'll be in touch Monkey," she promised and tucked the notebook into the inside pocket of her leather coat. They both knew it was not true. They shared too much pain between them but it was still a nice promise to make. Monkey was almost like a sister to Jamie. "Tell your mother hello from me," she added and left with a casual wave goodbye. By the time she got back to the Tabula Rasa she had been gone about two hours and before doing anything else she went up onto the roof and hid the notebook in the blastproof safe box she kept hidden inside a disused vent up there. She then went down to O'Malley's half a block from the Tabula Rasa and ordered a quart of whiskey, on the tab. She needed to focus on deciphering the notebook and its cryptic message but first she needed to numb the pain of the memories meeting Monkey had brought up. Half an hour, and five cigarettes, later the whisky was gone and she got up to use the bathroom.

If you asked Lily Loveless where she was from, she would likely tell you to fuck off and do her best to stab you with something pointy. On the occasion when she was drunk or entertained enough, she might regale you with an impossible tale of her journey across the bad side of the moon, on her way to childhood's end. If she was high enough, and often she was, Lily might even tell you about the day of the eclipse, when the tigers broke free and the bridges burned and Corporal Clegg and the gnome with the paranoid eyes fought with four sticks in the battle for Nevermore. And all of these things, from the burning and stabbing to the stories, were not lies so much as a fairytale form of the truth. Protecting her from things like the knowledge of her father, Johnny Moon, a small-time Stalker that most real Stalkers saw as a vulture. The sort of extra scummy dirtbag who would shadow others into the Zone in an effort to profit off their missteps and misfortunes. The sort of loathsome lowlife that when Lily turned sixteen and was no longer of sexual interest to him, took her into the zone and used Lily to trigger a trap that disintegrated her. And while it wasn't unusual for people to disappear in the Zone, it was highly irregular for them to suddenly return. And that's exactly what Lily did, a year to the day of her disappearance but aged no less than five years upon her return. Strolling out of the Zone with funhouse mirror memories that had been shattered and scattered to the wind like shiny little dandelion seeds. And the strange ability to nudge bits and pieces of reality into something more palatable to her own world view. So on this day as Lily strolled down the street toward a door marked with an overhead sign that read O'Malley's. Lily's Swiss cheese mind went to work. "Ohhhhhhh Miss O'Brian!" And no sooner had Lily said the name than reality twisted just enough to change the sign from O'Malley's to O'Brian's. Lily clapped her hands together and practically skipped to the door. She stopped in front of it, crossed one leg tight in front of the other and stood tall on tiptoe, pretending for one music-filled moment to be the itty-bitty ballet dancer in those jewelry boxes decorated like cake. Unlike the little trapped lady, her feet were bare and crusted with crumbly mud, her legs were equally naked and filthy, streaked with dirt, and a pattern of violent red slashed across her straight jacket, which hung off her shoulder like an oversized nightshirt, straps dangling provocatively against her wrists and thighs. The straight jacket was a gift from her ex boyfriend, Christopher. Who had slashed her throat and dumped her. Except her throat seemed fine now but maybe that's just how throats worked. Either way her parting gift was the jacket, her only stitch of clothing. Which was just long enough to hide the dark heart between her thighs in shadow, yet show a sliver of her perfectly shaped ass cheeks. Lily's blonde mane was a riot, and there had been a hasty and sloppy effort to clean her face, followed by an even hastier and sloppier effort to apply makeup. Her lips were a bright and deadly crimson red, and her eyes were heavily rimmed with smudged coal, making her cool blue irises both airy and electric. From the corner of her mouth, at a jaunty angle, protruded the wet stick of a butterscotch lollipop. With excited breaths, narrowed eyes, a quirky curled grin, Lily slapped her palms down on the door handle and tossed it open so hard and so wide that the upper half of her body folded in an accidental bow. Rolling with it, she snapped back up, canted her chin like a saucy flamenco dancer, lifted one gracefully curved arm, then still on her toes, dragged her feet like a diva into the room. The door rebounded behind her, slammed closed, and Lily snapped her chin up in the opposite direction, as if attracted by the sound. She smiled brightly, clapped her hands together and walked in like she owned the place. Her steps confident but playful, her hips swinging and bouncing beneath the hem of the straight jacket, meanwhile leaving a breadcrumb trail of blood-caked dirt on her way to the bar, greeting everyone she passed. "Heya guys. Hey!" When her airy blue eyes landed on Jamie, Lily pulled the lollipop from her mouth with a suggestive suck and an excited smile. "Jamie! Are you here for group therapy?" Lily then furrowed her brow, cut her eyes around the room and then returned them to Jamie at which point she whispered sweetly and with genuine concern."Babe? Did you get tossed in the nuthouse?"Lily pointed her fingers in quirky directions and crossed her eyes. "The people here are fucking crazy." Her eyes wet back to normal and Lily nodded in agreement with herself as she pointed, in a way that was anything but subtle, at a table of thugs who were eyeing her like a pack of hungry wolves. "And sometimes dangerous." Then, still smiling at Jamie with a dash of schoolgirl swoon, Lily forgot the flavor of her lollipop which visibly changed from butterscotch orange to cherry red as she plopped it in her mouth.</s>

The lives of two young noblewoman were about to change, although not in the manner they would ever imagine. Everything started off as a normal day yet at the end of it, they found themselves waking up in cages with their wrists bound tightly behind their backs and gags in their mouths. If they bothered to look around them, they would find many others in cages and in front of them were a number of people wearing masks. A man stood up in front of them with a microphone in hand as different cages were brought forward, and person after person were being bid on. The black market...a slave auction more like it. Something that many nobles had tried to ban but there were many who enjoyed the concept of slavery. Buying people just to treat them as nothing more than some toy to do with as they pleased. And there were some whose favorite slaves to have were those that when they first got them they were nothing but fighters, but in the end they turned into nothing more than a broken toy. Complacent, obedient, the perfect slave. Yet in the time it took them to break the person, that once noble would find themselves going through years of torment and training, just to become that obedient toy. It had been two years since the young duchess of Winters family had been taken while she was on her way to a tea party. The once sixteen year old female was now an eighteen year old woman, and had only grown into her beauty over the two years. The man who bought her hadn't always be a monster but over the past year he had become somebody that everybody learned to fear. He ruled his slaves with violence and fear, having no qualms about if his actions resulted in the death of a slave. After all, slaves were disposable; they could be replaced. Kaeya Winters was half the person that she had once been, covered in injuries from head to toe yet she didn't seem to make a sound other than counting out loud. Anybody else would have been crying out upon feeling the whip strike their bare back yet the jet black haired female didn't make a noise at all other than count. Tears fell down her cheeks but that wasn't about it. She knew better than to make a noise other than count, just as she knew better than to stop counting. It would restart the punishment all over again. She internally screamed for somebody to help her, anybody. No, she just wanted to be free from this vile man and return home...and step up into her role as duchess now that her parents were deceased. Step up as duchess and take over her family's toy company.

Analise Harper von Harken was the oldest child of the Von Harken family, whose family runs a series of boutiques and fabric suppliers. At eighteen, Analise had long blonde hair with a hint of red and she stood at height of five foot six inches. She was heading out of the last boutique when she was grabbed and dragged to the slave market where she was going on to the stage to be sold. The dress she was wearing was one of her own designs, which allowed her to move easier but with her hands bound behind her it made it hard for her to do anything even run. Azreal was leaning back in his chair when he felt the cry for help from a human. This had him sitting up straight and smiling. "Yes, come on keep crying for help," his eyes glowed as he said this, causing most humans to run away. Azreal stood up and moved to the circle, waiting for her to call out again. His tail twitched as he waited for her to call out again.</s>

Agronak gro-Sharuk was an Orc coming into his eighteenth winter in Skyrim. Born in Mor Khazgur in The Reach, where the capital city was Markarth, most of his kind within Skyrim were content to spend their lives in strongholds and away from other civilized races. However, Agronak wanted more. After all, he was named after Agronak gro-Malog, the famed former Grand Champion of Cyrodiil's Arena who had lived and died over two hundred years ago. He wanted to get out there and become a warrior worthy of that name. Being the humble son of a blacksmith and therefore not expected to become a Chief, he was thankfully free to leave with Malacath's permission. Those who sought to become great warriors all sought out The Companions in Whiterun. They were a warrior guild with a storied past, the original 500 Companions following Ysgramor to the continent of Tamriel from the ancient Nord homeland of Atmora. Agronak could feel in his heart that that was where he would become great. He made the trek on foot, trusting in the Orcish armor and weaponry that he had smithed himself to keep him safe. Wolves, bears, and saber cats all assailed him, but none could stop him. After three day's journey, he set foot in the glorious city of Whiterun. Agronak rushed to the mead hall of The Companions and begged to join. A Nord named Vilkas told him that he would have to be tested for his mettle, a test he eagerly agreed to. A larger Nord named Farkas agreed to face him in a sparring match. While Agronak did not win the match, he held his own and showed both courage and fighting spirit. Everyone agreed that the young Orc had potential, and so he was accepted into The Companions. Shortly afterward, he began training to master the longsword, his fellow Companions helping him out when they could. One month later, he was also a regular at the Bannered Mare. He would be there every night, listening to bard music while drinking around a warm fire. He was friends with Bekah, the blonde Nord tavern wench, though he hoped to be more. Although he was a warrior, he just wasn't attracted to warrior women like Aela the Huntress. He was attracted to softer, more feminine women. "Bekah, another, please?" Agronak asked, holding up his empty tankard.

A large polished counter of dark wood ran along one wall. There was a pot-bellied bald man behind it, and a long shelf full of alcohol bottles. What caught most men's attention though was the serving wench. She had blonde hair and an round bosom that looked quite inviting to most of them. There was a professional smile on her face as she talked to customers and carried a tray of drinks around. She was wearing a long dress that went down to her ankles but the white frilly shirt beneath her bodice displayed a lot of her impressive cleavage. Her round breasts almost looked they wanted to pop out of her shirt. An appreciative whistle escaped a customer's lips as he walked over to a table and took a seat. For a few minutes he simply watched Bekah hurry around the tavern and serve other customers, but when she happened to stumble by he called out to her. "Hey, beautiful, I'd like to order some food now. I think you've made me wait long enough." The blonde immediately froze and turned to look at him, There was a frown on her face, but Agronak just met her gaze and smiled confidently. Bekah knew he was an extremely attractive woman. She was slightly taller than average and had an slender and curvaceous build. Her classically gorgeous face was framed by long blonde hair and intelligent dark brown eyes. "I'll be right with you in a second," Bekah replied as her professional smile returned. Agronak however wasn't looking at her face. Her chest looked even more stunning from close up. She approached him, and whispered "I'll be right back with you, Ag'. Give me a minute."</s>

The scent of old parchment mingled with the faint stink of burnt wood wafted through the secluded little alcove of the library where they sat. Scrunching his nose, Templar Cayden hastily snuffed out the little fire at the edge of the large rosewood table, shaking his head exasperatedly all the while. "Remind me why I agreed to help you again?" he groaned, coming back to sit beside the young woman he was talking to after he'd made sure the cinders had died out. The old Knight Commander wasn't exaggerating when he said to keep your armor and shield upon you at all times when dealing with mages. If it weren't for his plated armor and quick reaction in forming the anti-magic barrier, he would've been burnt to a crisp. Not that he'd ever get an apology out of Aria. She would probably crack a joke and go back to her dusty tomes if he knew anything about her. And the thing was, he did know quite a lot about the red-maned elven maiden. Quite hard not to, when the two had practically grown up together in the tower where the Circle of Magi was housed; Cayden given to the Chantry as a babe, and Aria arriving soon after when her powers manifested. Despite the two of them being Templar and Mage and being of different races to boot, they had grown up to be the best of friends, and eventually came to love each other, as was natural when one locks men and women together in a tower with nothing to do. Yet, their relationship was secretive, in every sense of the word. Templars and Mages don't fraternize after all, and those that do mingle with the other are viewed with suspicion from both sides. Sometimes, it was tiring, running circles around everyone just so they could share a kiss or talk about their days. He could even say it was exhausting. Not to mention, it broke his heart every time one of his brothers lobbed insults at slurs at her and he could do nothing but watch on the sidelines. But it was moments like these, where there was no one to judge them and they were free to be themselves, laughing and smiling as young people should, that made all the trouble worth it. Even getting almost turned into a human steak. "Are you done throwing your spells at me? I'm itching to get out of this unbearable hunk of metal," he said with a grin, giving Aria a soft peck on her forehead as he settled down on the plush cushions, his armor creaking with every moment. She was studying for the last examination before she could undertake her Harrowing-- a dreadful affair he would rather not think of at the moment. His sword and shield were neatly laid against the bookshelves on the far end of the alcove, and so was Aria's wooden staff. Shifting in place, he turned to face the elven girl and gazed into her eyes, his own grey hues twinkling with mild excitement for what might come next, after she was done with the books. "It was nice of Wynne to let you stay in the library after dark. I might get a scolding for abandoning my post though." He shrugged nonchalantly, his duties the last thing on his mind at the moment. "You think she'd mind if we, uh..." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, communicating from his eyes exactly what he was thinking.

Kinloch Hold, Lake Calenhad Ifone lived in the Circle, the smell of burning, whether near or far, was pretty much a constant smell; fire magic, after all, was very useful, even despite the obvious risks that learning it could pose. Though Templars and Mages were far better equipped to deal with sudden magical conflagrations, as Cayden had just proved. Aria had been, for a moment, wearing a rueful expression; one that quickly changed to a playfully exasperated grin as the Templar grumbled and groaned on about their arrangement, him being some kind of guinea pig for her studying. Aria knew it was just for show, better exemplified when Cayden pressed his lips softly to the top of her head. For most of their lives, the two had known each other and had the opportunity to get very close indeed. Though, it wasn't exactly unexpected that two people of a similar age, cooped up in a Tower of which neither could leave, would find themselves attracted to the other. There was just one problem - well, several in actuality, but predominately her being a Mage and him being a Templar forced them into secrecy. She was also an elf, and relations between humans and elves were... fraught, at best. Still, the two of them put on a brave face. They had to, really, although it seemed that Cayd took it to heart more than Aria did, especially when some Templar or other decided to shove her a little and call her a 'knife-eared bitch'. She knew Cayd wanted to step up and say something, but that would bring suspicion on the both of them, effectively ending their relationship, such as it was. Although Ari had been very young when the Circle gave her to them, but even her earliest years were filled with vague memories of racist abuse hurled at her and her family - it, like being a Mage, wasn't something she could change, and so like water off a duck's back, she just shrugged it off. Or at least tried to let Cayd think she shrugged it off. But he loved her, just as she was, so ultimately that mattered more than anything. Except perhaps the Harrowing. Her eyebrows furrowed together for a moment, thinking of that, but although her practicing tonight was all for the benefit of the last exam she needed to pass, she didn't want to dwell on that. Though perhaps, she'd have to bring it up with Cayd at some point - they couldn't just skirt around the issue until it was suddenly upon them. Regardless, she turned to Cayd, eyes twinkling. "I think I'm done for now," she said, voice light. "You've been a very good test subject, I think you deserve a rest." At his own raised eyebrows and suggestive expression, she shook her head, though wearing a smile; she of course knew him well enough to understand what he was getting at, and it wasn't as if she was going to say no against this opportunity. It could, after all, be days until they were able to sneak even a quick, passionate kiss together. "Wynne would mind - outwardly, at least. She has no issues with lightly scolding anyone!" Aria said with a chuckle. "Though I don't think she'd exactly begrudge us this time, either. As long as we do not make a mess and put everything back where we found it."</s>

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck," Luke panted softly, thrusting quickly yet shallowly as he reached his end. Body on top of his girlfriend of three years, the young man of twenty-six grunted as he ejaculated into the condom. Collapsing on top of her for a brief moment, Luke rolled onto his back and then threw the condom aside. "Perfect as always." Luke muttered softly, kissing the cheek of Scarlett Johansson, the girl of his dreams, and the girlfriend he had somehow managed to seduce all those years ago. It was great too, since his rather small penis of only three inches did not seem to bother Scarlett. She seemed to enjoy the sex as much as he did, and loved him as much as he loved her. "I love you baby," Luke said, curling into Scarlett's side as he fell asleep, the usual when he had his orgasm. He, as always, had no clue just how unsatisfied Scarlett was by the end of the night.

Scarlett lay awake in her bed basking in the afterglow of sex. Luke was long lost in the world of dreams when she turned to face his back. It was midnight, and yet she was not wholly satisfied. Hunger and passion lingered in her body as she tried fighting it away. She felt guilty for wanting more when Luke was completely satisfied with what they had. She loved him for his generosity but God was not generous in making Luke's penis. After pulling off an all-nighter, Scarlett was groggy but disturbing thoughts haunted her mind. Leaving Luke on the bed, she walked around in the room naked while thinking. What can be done? Pacing faster by the minute, she Googled some options and before anything, the idea of a therapist hit her mind. That was the ultimate solution. Every co-star of hers had a shrink. Till date she did not require one but it was high time she visited someone. Scrolling through various names, she hit one randomly, the available number took her to a voice box where she dropped her details and timings. By noon, she had a reply, confirming her appointment with the good doctor.</s>

Hylian history is replete with legends of the sacred times... The stories of the destiny shared by the 3 chosen ones of the goddesses have been told and retold throughout the ages; each tale more extravagant than the last... Before time began, before spirits and life existed... Three golden goddesses descended upon the chaos that was Hyrule... Din, the goddess of power... With her strong flaming arms, she cultivated the land and created the red earth. Nayru, the goddess of wisdom... Poured her wisdom onto the earth and gave the spirit of law to the world. Farore, the goddess of courage... With her rich soul, produced all lifeforms that would uphold the law. The three goddess, their labors completed, departed for the heavens. And golden sacred triangles remained at the point where the goddesses left the world. In their absence, they entrusted the protection of this world to the goddess Hylia. Since then, the sacred triangles have become the basis of our world's providence. It has also been the basis of our world's biggest calamities... Each iteration of destiny has been unique and has endured even through fragmentation of time itself... But the cycle of rebirth will continue until the end of time. Ganon, the manifestation of hatred and the wielder of the Triforce of Power... Princess Zelda, the mortal incarnation of the goddess Hylia and the wielder of the Triforce of Wisdom... And Link, the chosen hero sent by the goddesses to protect the land from evil and wielder of the Triforce of Courage... No matter the story, the three chosen ones will be reincarnated to the center of destiny, battling for supremacy. Time flows like a river, and history repeats itself.. Over the generations, the people of Hyrule grow more disconnected from the tales and superstitions of the past. The events of the past are obscured by the mists of time and become more myth than legend. Destined for the Sisyphean task of reincarnating for all of eternity by the hatred of Demise, the dark one has risen once again... And as the legend mandates, the dark one will rise to create chaos -- but the hero will vanquish them time and time again. But what if destiny doesn't play out as it is supposed to...? Huu'gh... d'aaah...." Link grunted in agony after the last bolt of lightning rattled his body to its core. The clank of his massive mirror shield to the ground was accompanied by the warble of it gyrating on the floor, trying to reach its equilibrium. The Master Sword had fallen to the ground as the pointy-eared boy's eyes rolled back in his head. After all of the harrowing battles and quests to get to this point, it hadn't been enough. The battle had raged on for what felt like an eternity and the two immutable adversaries were drenched in their own sweat from the destined struggle. The hero's iconic jade tunic was torn and tattered in various locations; stained by the sweat and blood and dirt of the battle. There was a slanted gash across the top of his forehead that had been bleeding profusely earlier, but the battle had caused it to clot already. Dropping to his knees as his mind blacked out, Link could only see the menacing eyes of that grim green face as Ganon lumbered toward him. The wind howled atop the battered ruins of the upper half of the castle and all of Hyrule could feel a dark shadow descending upon it in that moment. Panting desperately, Link tried to will his body to go beyond its limits to keep fighting, but it wouldn't answer his calls. As he fell face down onto the ground, his body involuntarily twitched and tensed repeatedly. This couldn't be... This wasn't what the legend spoke of. The hero had fallen.

And as the hero fell, a burst of great and terrible laughter arose. Standing tall and proud, a fiery-haired Gerudo woman towered over Link, her conquest. Gerudo women were tough, stalwart warriors whom even the most talented of Hylian knights wouldn't want to tangle with, but this one was unique. The Triforce of Power gleamed on her right hand that held a menacing, large scimitar while a radiant, golden shield was clenched in her left. Her outfit was the typical, traditional Gerudo fare, but one fitted with leather and metal to help shrug off glancing blows. It was rather risque, all things considered, yet most Gerudo weren't too shy to show what they had. If anything, the bare bronze skin only helped this powerhouse! "Poor boy," she cooed with a sneer, her flaming amber eyes narrowed down at the green-garbed legend. "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is just so weak, no? Typical. You just didn't have enough stamina to best me." For as long as it had been remembered, the wielder of the Triforce of Power had always been a Gerudo man, a rarity even in this crazy land. But this story isn't like the others. No, this time the Triforce of Power had been blessed to a Gerudo woman, one who was just as dark and ambitious as all the other Ganondorfs before her. To some she was merely Ganon, but to few she was known asGanondora. In such short time she had been able to rally the Gerudo and infringe on Hyrule's precious land, set to claim the kingdom for herself and those who followed her. And of course, she expected that pesky, courageous hero to come try and stop her! Ganondora approached the defeated hero and knocked his sword and shield away with her scimitar. As far as she knew, touching that Master Sword was beyond her, so better safe than sorry. She discarded her equipment as well and loomed over Link, kicking him in the side to roll him over. Oh how giddy she was- Defeating your sworn, destined enemy was sweet ambrosia, but even better was deciding what to do with him when all was said and done. "Don't pass out! We've only just started! Come now, perhaps you can satisfy me in another way?" Like a cat with a mouse, Ganondora pounced atop Link and held him down with her firm rear pressing deeply into his crotch. She sat upon him like a conquering queen on her throne, though here she just couldn't help but grind a bit where she sat.</s>

Sasuke sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt off and his pale chest exposed. For being fairly slim he was quite muscular and toned for his age at 17. He had to be, given that the entire future of his clan had been placed on his shoulders, and tonight was to be the fruition of a number of plans coming together. It had been a number of years since the slaughter; the near extermination of his clan by his older brother, Itachi. Still, his brother had failed to kill them all, a number of Uchiha had been called out into mission just that evening and had escaped the carnage. Still, there were so few of them left, and the remaining adults did what they had to do to insure the clan's future. Sasuke was deemed the most likely to have the most potent blood of the Uchiha left in the clan, and he had been arranged to be married to Hinata of the Hyuga Clan mere weeks after the death of his family. They had met only once after the arrangement had been made. Afterwards, they hadn't talk about it or bring it up to each other, and often kept their distance. Sasuke had seen how Hinata had developed feelings for Naruto throughout the years, and thought nothing of it. He would do his duty for the clan. Now that they were both of age, they were officially married earlier today. It had been a village-wide celebration, for the two clans were some of the most powerful and well known in the Leaf Village. It had been an all-day celebration, and both he and Hinata had been put on display all day: saying oaths, kissing, holding hands, and faking smiles. It was all part of their duty. Now Sasuke waited for Hinata to exit the bath and join him on their marriage bed where they would consummate their marriage and hopefully produce a child, one that would be able to use both the Sharingan and Byakugan if at all possible.

Hinata knew she was stalling the inevitable, however she could not bring herself to leave the bath. She sat staring down at the water, insisting to Sasuke when they walked into their now shared bed chambers that she needed to bathe and clean herself. It had been a long day after all. Plus she did not give him much time to argue as she scurried into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. Knowing if he wanted to enter a lock really wouldn't do her much good. Sure she knew about this arrangement for years....soon after the massacre of the Uchiha family. Ever since that day Hinata watched him from a distance. Curious about who her future husband would be. Soon enough another caught her eye and unwillingly Naruto became the source of her infatuation. Knowing there would never be anything between them did not stop the young girl's crush. Hinata took a deep breath. "Time to put your big girl panties on and go out there," she thought to herself as she rose from the tub, wrapping herself in a light blue towel. Turning to herself in the mirror, she had removed most of the makeup they had applied to her face before the wedding. Her hair was now down by her sides wet from her washing of it. Debating a moment putting on a nightgown, she decided to simply walk out in the towel. Hinata knew there was no avoiding this.... it was the reason for their marriage in the first place. Her face was a light red as she walked out, looking at the well-toned back of her now husband. Her hands gripping the towel tightly as she stepped forward, knowing he would hear her entrance.</s>

How could the darkness hurt? Taliesin couldn't remember pain before the darkness.. The feeling of hands on her body, the pain as her body was violated, too weak to fight back. Raped, beaten... used again and again. For how long? She couldn't remember and when she woke, she wouldn't remember a thing. Only in this pain filled darkness could she remember what they had done to her. Her body being torn apart by liquid fire. Shadow claws toying with the tattered shields of her mind, worming through her thoughts, memories. Searching.. scouring for information. It had hurt, the woman had told her it didn't have to hurt, but where was the fun in that? She'd slowly picked her mind apart, like ripping the petals off a flower, the wings off a butterfly, shredding her past and remaking her as she wished. Then the nothingness had taken her. Her mind and body fracturing into pieces. Even here in the dark, sensation had flashed through. Pain.. breathless drowning.. While those sensations had come and gone, she'd slowly begun to gather the shattered fragments of herself. Some parts were missing, as she put together the decimated picture of herself. Time here in the darkness seemed to have no meaning. Days, seconds? She didn't know one from the other. Each small razor sharp part of who she was slowly placed into the frame of her mind. Too many pieces were missing. The picture was fractured as the mind trying to place the razor sharp pieces together, each cut only adding to the loss. A tangled web. The darkness was confusing. It was her reality, but was it? Her mind screamed at her that this wasn't where she was meant to be, but the small almost childlike part of her that put the picture together seemed content to remain in this darkness. The darkness was safe. Here there was no pain. A floating feeling, warmth.. But no more pain. It was safe. No one could hurt them here. No more pain, no more hurt, no more fear. Safe. If I leave here.. there will be pain.. and I still don't have all the pieces.. not whole.. The woman on the beach had once, perhaps been lovely. Laying in the sand, cuts and bruises covered her face, and any exposed part of her skin. It was safe to assume that the unexposed flesh had not been spared. She'd been beaten, tortured, perhaps more and left for dead. After a few long moments, her chest would rise, just barely as her body took a breath. Her skin was pale, marred in black and purple.. Blood crusted into cuts, the sea water not enough to wash all of it from her. Her hair was silver and grey, seaweed and sand tangled into it. Underneath blue tinged lashes, her eyes flickered. How long had she been there? It would be hard to tell. The sea water having dried out her lips, even relaxed it looked like she had a secret to share, the cut in her lip nor the rough appearance enough to hide it. Minutes would pass before another shallow breath was taken. A small crab crawled from between her breasts, underneath the torn top, the knit of it rough. The skittering of its legs against her battered flesh earned no sound from her. Whatever had happened, she'd been through the mill more than once. Waves lapped at her body as the tide came in, her hands lifted in the surf slightly with each pull and push of the water. Was it not for that slow, labored breathing it might be easy to mistake her for dead. Above her the sun beat down on her skin, slowly burning her. Patches of pale skin slowly turning pink and then red under its relentless gaze.

It was the Angler who sensed her first. His very purpose, even in this new fae form, was to find things on the edge of darkness and lure them into the deep, from darkness unto death. A year prior, he would have taken this soul quietly, without notice. Now, however, Cirrus served a different darkness - the Night Court. Without fanfare or malice, he lifted the fragile and broken creature from the sands. Without intervention, death would claim her soon enough, and there were things to be done before that. The quiet of the morning beach was broken as Cirrus winnowed to the House of Wind. It was here, in the depths of the royal home of Velaris, that High Lord Nyx first saw her. A silent nod from Cirrus was his only introduction to the situation. However, there was nothing to prepare him for the sight before him. On the other side of the enchanted bars, resting on an ornate bed, lay the most gorgeous fae he had ever seen. For a moment, it felt like the air had been pressed from his lungs. His hand moved to push the unkempt black hair from his face, as if to clear his vision. Not that it had any effect, despite being long enough to touch the back of his neck, he kept it from his eyes. Those deep blue eyes were fixed on this creature. Yes, he saw the cuts and bruises, the sand crusted in her hair. She was a mess. But, she was a lovely mess. Standing transfixed, it was a few long moments before he realized just how foolish he must have looked. Grateful to be alone, Nyx remembered his purpose. Immediately, the cell thrummed with boundless power as he called the magic within him. The shadows in the corners flared to life and a new darkness entered the room. It was a warm darkness, the dark you found on a summer night. It reached past the barrier of the cell, the one way enchantment giving him no issue. The bruises on the young woman faded a touch, the cuts closed. The magic sought the deepest damage, the most important things. His healing abilities were far from perfect, but they suited his needs. A prisoner need not be fully recovered to provide information. While his magic worked, Nyx moved a bit closer to the cell bars. They had no door, only able to be opened by magic, so he stood nearly pressed to the metal. His height, and delicately folded Illyrian wings, made Nyx fill the space, nearly looming over the woman even from the distance between them. There was something about her that made him push his magic a bit harder. He wanted to fix her. So, his power vibrated the walls as he followed his instinct. Still not perfect, he could only fill her with magic, hoping to fix whatever kept her from waking, to satisfy the itch to help. Thus, he stood before the prisoner, face grim with focus, for a moment forgetting how dangerous she could prove to be.</s>

Welcome to a Ainsley original production! Fate and destiny can be such evil forces. You think you are doing everything right in life then all of a sudden you find out they have completely other plans for you. When you think you know what you want in life, they swoop right in and loudly proclaim that you are completely WRONG. #teamjinsley is out here tackling twilight! Well, at least the imprinting side. Only issue is that fate and destiny are cruel and have decided that two individuals born from opposing beings are destined for each other. What we will learn quickly is that while fate and destiny have the final say, external forces (both mortal and immortal) will try any and everything to go against it. Except for the two that destiny has joined together. To achieve the pure happiness they desire more than life itself, they must be ready to fight fang and claws to keep it. **Disclaimer:: This role play migrated from its original thread on another role playing site. The first 9 posts are previous posts written between Jin and me.** tab tab tab tab () CLARKE WINTERS CLARKE (SPEECH) tab tab tab CLARKE (POWERS) tab tab tab OTHERS I hope everything is to your liking. I tried to be as close to what you had asked for when you bought the property. It was definitely quite a list. The real estate agent let out a nervous chuckle at this. Clarke turned her head briefly from the large portrait in the hallway to strain her hearing towards the conversation. She heard the agents elevated heartbeat as her parents surveyed each room. The longer the two of them remained silent, the more nervous he got. At one point, as they walked up the stairs to the second story, she wanted to join in with the small group just to give this poor man a chance to calm down. But that feeling passed when she finally heard her parents make comments about what they had done with the decor of the house. This house seemed smaller than any they'd lived in over the past eight years - but then again, this was the first time they'd all live together without their adoptive grandparents, Abram and Natasha Winters. It was still unclear why they had decided not to come with them when they moved to Cork, Ireland. When Clarke asked about it the first time, they only told her that it was time for them to be a family. That didn't make sense, though; they were a coven, one of the most close-knit covens in the world. They wouldn't be a family if they weren't all together. Clarke kept her ears strained on any conversations or movements from upstairs while she remained downstairs. She continued to wander around - from the kitchen to the living room and sometimes outside to do a couple laps around the yard. At this point, she wasn't really observing her new environment; she was killing time. Right now, she was waiting for the right opportunity to interrupt her parents' business and ask permission to leave. For hours, Clarke twirled her pen at impossible breakneck speed, just waiting to be used. It was killing her that she had not yet done what she promised Dakota when she first left him in Forks. Because of the move, she was a couple days late on her schedule, and the longer she delayed from doing what she needed to do, the more irritated she became. If she didn't find a gift shop soon, she would probably do something very stupid. She was just returning from doing a couple laps around their large backyard when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Her ears perked up and she felt the edges of her lips twist up in victory. After removing her shoes once again she rushed through the living room making sure not to move too fast so that she could meet up with her parents and the real estate agent at the foot of the stairs. The expression on her parents faces were as unimpressed as the past few years. The agent, on the other hand, was another story. He seemed to have completely forgotten that she was also in the house, so when he laid his eyes on her his expression went from shock at her speed to a soft admiration as he marveled at her beauty. This was something Clarke was starting to get used to. Where can I find the nearest gift shop?! Clarke asked eagerly, ignoring the looks her parents sent her to focus only on the agent. The man flushed at all the attention he was getting from her and had to take a moment to compose himself before fidgeting through his folder of papers. The rustling of the papers made her all the more impatient and she ended up moving to desperate times. She focused all of her energy on the human as she tapped into the vibrations he was emitting through his head. The vibrations looked like colorful waves; all coordinated for her to know exactly which one to pinpoint particularly to reach exactly what she wanted. When she was in tune with the right amount of frequency, a smirk appeared. Skip the papers and move straight to your phone, she ordered as she blended her thoughts with his so that he would perceive them as his own. She watched as the man stopped what he was doing abruptly and pulled out his phone. It didn't take long for her parents to figure out what she had done. Her father was the first to react; his expression cold and stern. But Clarke did not focus on this, instead she continued to push the human forward to look faster. Her mother climbed down the last few steps in the time it would normally take a human to blink. At this point neither of her vampire parents cared about keeping their secret from the agent. He wouldn't remember any of it once he was snapped out of Clarkes hold on his mind. Clarke, her mother said again, her tone sharp and threatening while letting out a low growl. Finally, she blinked out of concentration to look over at the beautiful vampire woman standing beside her. The sound of someone stuttering caused both mother and daughter to look away from each other to turn towards the human. He had a blank expression on his face that only changed to a look of confusion when he noted that Clarke's mother was no longer standing beside her father and that he had his phone in his hand. When did you? How did I? Clarkes father immediately looked over at her with another look then in a blink of an eye brought a smile on his face and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. The human winced at the chilling touch despite wearing a business suit. As Clarke's father led him back to the kitchen with the excuse that he didn't look too well due to stress, she and her mother were left alone. Blood rushed up to her cheeks to give it a rose-colored tint. Her gaze remained on the ground while her mother stared at her. The longer the silence went between the two of them, the more nervous she became. Her fluttering heart beat faster until it felt painful to breathe. When she finally chanced looking up, the cold expression on her mother's face had disappeared as concern replaced it. She must have heard her heartbeat as well. Biting down on her bottom lip gently, Clarke slowly stood straighter and flashed a small smile at her mother. I'm sorry, Momma... It's just. It's the 20th already she stuttered. Just then a hint of a breeze swept into the hallway as her father reappeared; this time without the agent. He took his usual place beside his wife and they both looked down at Clarke with sympathetic eyes. "You know how he gets around this time," she continued pleadingly. She saw the contemplation in their faces as they wondered whether it was a good idea to let her out right now. After all, it was technically still daytime despite the sun being covered by all the rain clouds in the sky. Please. I just want to get one postcard so I can be ready to let him know that I'm okay. Abram will be here in a couple hours and I want to make sure I get the post to him as soon as possible. I don't want him to wait another day. Go... her father said, pulling out a few five euro coins from his pocket. Clarke's eyes brightened as she took them. Hugging the coins to her heart, she leaped into their arms and hugged them tightly. Then before the human in the kitchen could walk in and on them, she pulled back and was out the door in seconds. The great thing about moving to Cork was it was more rural than city. Even if they had their own downtown city area and enough suburban neighborhoods, there were still areas that were covered in green. The house that her parents had bought in this move was a bit of a distance from the nearest neighborhood. With this much seclusion, no one in miles would be able to see Clarke utilize her supernatural abilities to get from her home to the nearest town in minutes. Stopping just outside the town, Clarke rested against a tree to catch her breath and let her heart calm. As she rested, she kept her eyes and ears in alert to take in her environment. She calculated how many humans were around her so that she could prepare for it. She could already feel the burning in her throat. After swallowing the thirst down a few times, Clarke finally straightened up and made her way to the plaza. There were plenty of eyes watching her as she walked through the parking lot towards the grocery store, Tesco. It wasn't a gift shop, but she was sure that she would be able to find one postcard there. She easily ignored the stares she was getting. After all, she was on a mission. The stares turned into murmurs when she entered the store. Some people whispered about her unnatural beauty; wondering if she was some supermodel or celebrity. Others questioned why she had wet hair and clothes. It never occurred to Clarke in her eagerness to grab an umbrella or wear something that would keep her from looking like she had ran in a heavy storm for hours. But to hell with her look and to hell with her audience. Where were the postcards? Excuse me, she called out to the nearest employee, a man looking like he could be in his late teens. He looked up from the box he had in his arms to turn to her. But when his eyes met hers, the contents of the box all came crashing to the floor and shattered and splashed everywhere. Clean up on aisle three. Clarke had to fight the urge to use her abilities to catch the box before it would make a mess, instead opting for taking a cautious step back to dodge getting pickled juice all over her shoes. Despite the large mess, the employee was still gawking at her. Clarke giggled at this before continuing on. "I was wondering where the postcards are?" she finally said. She watched the words slowly process in the male's head through her facial expressions. When he showed signs that he understood the request, he blinked a few times then finally looked down to see the damage he had made. By this time, a large man that looked to be the manager was storming over to investigate. A fair list of expletives were muttered before he looked up at Clarke again and pointed to the right of him. She merely grinned her appreciation before carrying on. As she walked away, she couldn't help smirking at the confusion of emotions that male was feeling between, as he phrased it, the astonishment of standing in front of a goddess and the fear that he was so going to get sacked. She didn't dare run back home from the store. The Irish rain was coming down a lot harder now and she could not risk getting the postcard she had picked out wet. It needed to be perfect and intact for Dakota. Luckily, she had been smart enough to bring her cellphone with her. So she called her father to come pick her up and gave him the address of the store. As she waited for her father to arrive, she remained in the coffee shop next door with a mug of tea that she left untouched. It didn't take long for him to arrive. She was beyond excited to get to her room and start writing her letter to Dakota. Her wolf imprinter must be worried and wondering how she was doing and if she was still aging as another year passed in her theorized short life. Although she looked seventeen on the outside, in reality she was only turning eight years old. Being born a hybrid meant that the process of her aging had been quickened. Since conception, she was in her mother's womb for no more than three weeks. After her birth she grew quickly with her mental maturity developing at an even faster rate. Clarke had very clear memories of those first few months after her birth. Not only were her parents worried that she was growing up too fast, but Dakota was as well. Because Clarke was the one that Dakota had imprinted on, her life was connected to his in more ways than one could possibly think. So the thought that her life might not last as long as they all would have liked possibly scared Dakota the most. Clarke could never get herself to think about what would happen to her wolf if she was no longer alive. Even to this day she can't think about it. After all, they were still so uncertain about how she was aging. Abram had hypothesized that, worse case scenario, her life would end at age fifteen. Everyone was hoping that the hypothesis would be false. Upon entering the house once again, Clarke's eyes widened when they fell on the large banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLARKE! The entire house had been decorated in sky blue decorations. In the dining room there was a pile of presents that filled every inch of the long dining table. She stood there incredulously as she put together just how quickly her parents must have worked to put all of this together in the short amount of time she had been away. And then everything started to make sense when she heard footsteps once again and her adoptive grandparents came rushing to meet her. A bright smile appeared on her face as she met Abram and Natasha and practically fell into their embrace. Despite running hotter than the rest of her family, being near them and their cold exterior was never a problem for her. She welcomed her adoptive grandparents into a warm embrace as if she hadn't seen them in centuries and she was beyond thrilled when they returned the feelings. Natasha was already going on about how they had arrived not long after she had left to go to the store and how they went right to work putting up the decorations. The gifts, she was then told, were mainly from the four of them. However, there was a handful from the Quileute tribe back at home. This instantly perked Clarke's interest as she rushed over to the table and read through all the names until she found the one that she was looking for. Her heart fluttered for a split second when she caught Dakota's name, instantly grabbing his gift. Through the wrapping paper she could smell leather. But it wasn't fresh. It had a musty age to it that made her think that this was much older than she thought. Her interest and curiosity perked up, and she immediately ripped off the wrapping paper to find out what he had gotten her. She was beaming as she took in the leather-bound journal. Her eyes remained on the carving on the cover; feeling the hard work Dakota must have put into it. When she opened it to the first page, her peripheral caught the familiar handwriting that was her imprinter, and she took in the words he wrote for her. She was falling in love with the journal the longer she held it in her hands. But more importantly, she felt like she was falling in love with the wolf that had her heart unconditionally. Abram soon came in to interrupt her. When she turned to look at her adoptive grandfather, her lovesick smile disappeared when she saw the familiar notebook that held all the notes about her development. Her heart felt like it had dropped to the pit of her stomach as fear suddenly crept in. If Abram had to report that she had shown signs of further development, she was going to hate writing her letter to Dakota. With a sigh, Clarke clung tightly to Dakota's birthday gift and turned to face Abram with her body stretched out to its full height. The examination took only a few minutes as Abram pulled out his measuring tape and quietly scribbled down notes he had in his brilliant mind. Her parents and Natasha stood at a distance with distressed expressions on their faces. They hated this examination as much as Clarke did. Finally, Abram put away his tape measure and stuck his pen behind his ear. He pondered over his notes for a moment as he analyzed the data he had collected. Clarke sat at one of the chairs from the dining room table, waiting impatiently for the verdict. He was deliberating the results for a long time. That could only mean one thing; he was preparing to give some bad news. Fascinating... Abram muttered suddenly and everyone in the house perked up to listen. A few more quiet minutes passed before he finally looked up with the warmest smile she had ever seen since her birth. There has been no changes since your seventh birthday. I think it's safe to conclude that you've stopped aging, sweetheart. Clarke had to tell Dakota. Now. October 20, 2006 My dearest Kota, Top o the mornin to ya! Or at least thats what I think people here in Ireland say. Thats what I usually hear in movies. As you can probably tell, Im in Ireland now! Or should I say again? I have never been to Cork before so I had a hard time finding the most notable thing about this place that I could find on a postcard. One of the store employees at this Tesco told me that Blarney Castle is one of those touristy spots that people need to visit when they're here. I would absolutely LOVE to visit it! You know how much I ADORE castles! Clarke had to pull out her personalized stationary to continue her letter. She was never good at keeping her letters on just the postcard. I had an interesting conversation with said employee, her name was Anna, by the way, about Blarney Castle. Apparently there is this stone where if you kiss it, you'll get this thing called the gift of the gab. She joked that this was the reason the Irish are such chatty people. It's adorable! I think it's so cute and I'm definitely going to persuade Momma and Daddy to take me someday soon. Maybe when Abram and Natasha come visit again. We've finally moved into our new house. It's a lot smaller than the house back at Forks. It's supposed to be meant for a small family of three; which is us! It's really quaint, but has a large front and back yard. I wish you could see it! We would have had so much fun running around all day. There aren't many humans around. Our closest neighbor lives fifteen minutes away from us. I can hear them from my room. It sounds like they have a lot of kids and a lot of animals. It's most likely a farm? I'll definitely check it out and give you an update in a few days. But enough about me for a moment, how are you doing, my dear Kota? Have you been receiving my letters? Are you eating well? How goes things in La Push? How's Ian and the rest of the pack? Have you traveled anywhere neat recently? How's your grandpa? How's Rebecca? God, I miss you so much. It pains me to still be away from you. And I haven't received a letter from you since we moved. I'm so upset with Abram and Natasha because they forgot to bring me any mail from you when they came to visit. OH! I ALMOST FORGOT! Guess what? I HAVE GREAT NEWS! Are you ready for this? I hope you're sitting down. I'VE STOPPED AGING! It's true! Abram did his routine examination when he arrived earlier to celebrate your birthday. He said that apart from minor advancements in your brain activity (he says it most likely has to do with the books you've been reading and also because your talents have been developing), you've stopped growing and your features are exactly as they were on your seventh birthday. You stole Abram's notes so that I can give you a copy of them so you can take a look at it yourself! Do you know what this means, Kota? I can go home soon! Since it's apparent that you've reached full maturity at the appearance of seventeen, getting your papers sorted should be no problem. This is so exciting. I've been waiting eight years to finally get that return plane ticket home to you. No more fears about your life being short lived. We'll be together for all our eternal lives! I have to go now. Momma is calling me down for cake, though I don't know why since none of them can eat human food. And I want to get this letter finished quickly so I still have time to send it to the post office. I want this letter and good news to arrive to you as soon as possible. Missing you more and more everyday, my sweet Clarke. Yours unconditionally and eternally, Kota After rereading what she had written to check for any mistakes, Clarke grabbed one of the yellow envelopes from one of the boxes and carefully stuffed her letter inside. She wrote down the address to her home back in Forks with Dakota's name above it. Her spirits were filled with joy thinking about how she was going to make Dakota so happy with her good news. After all the unsettling dreams she had been having involving her wolf and his pain of being apart from her, she hoped that the prospect of her returning home would be enough to cheer him up. As she returned downstairs to the celebration, it was more her parents and adoptive grandparents talking in the dining room ignoring the cakes. Clarke kept reaching for the bracelet Dakota had given her for their first Christmas together. The bracelet was now too small for her wrist so Natasha had to convert it to a choker which was fine with Clarke for now. When she finally returned downstairs, she indulged her family with the traditions of blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. However, she did not dig in to eat some; instead looking over at her father one more time. She lifted the envelope she had been holding the entire time and flashed him a pleading smile. She saw him note Dakota's name on the envelope and then let out a sigh as he understood what she wanted. Just because we're celebrating more than your birthday, he sighed out as he reached into his pocket for his car keys. Clarke beamed and dashed to the car faster than her hybrid abilities would let her. She didn't even take the time to explain what she was doing to her mother, Abram and Natasha. They already knew. And they could not do anything about it. DARLING DON'T BE AFRAID I HAVE LOVED YOU tab FOR A THOUSAND YEARS tab I'LL LOVE YOU FOR A THOUSAND MORE

tab tab tab tab tab tab ( ) DAKOTA CRESCENT KOTA (SPEECH) tab tab tab KOTA (PACK TELEPATHY) tab tab tab OTHERS (SPEECH) tab tab tab OTHERS "I can't wait till we get home so I can see her!!" "Nathan drop it." Ian's voice was stern and overflowing with authority, but while he spoke to Nathan, his eyes were glued to another male, one sitting across the table from him. He was watching Dakota who in turn had his eyes dangerously on Nathan. The room had gone dead silent after that, tension heavy in the air with everyone present too afraid to say anything incase they said the wrong thing. Nathan was the newest addition to the pack, having first phased just under a year ago. He also happened to have been the most recent to imprint, and he couldn't stop talking about his newfound love. Everyone was happy for him, those who had already imprinted knew what a wonderful feeling it was to have someone so vital to your very existence. And then there was Dakota. Who had imprinted eight years ago to this day, and was the only one there to have had to go through losing his imprintee; the love of his life. Nathan had been struggling to control himself ever since imprinting and everyone in the pack could see what a toll it was taking on their future alpha. When Nathan was in human form he was constantly gushing about his precious Lilly, when he was a wolf his thoughts were clear as day and never stopped. "Sorry, I forgot...I just miss her so mu--" Idiot. There was a bang followed by a crash as first Dakota shoved at the table before him sending it sliding several feet away where it caved from the supernatural force it had to endure, then his chair fell backwards as he jumped to his feet. Ian was quick to follow and moved between the two younger males, "Dakota..." Had they all been in their wolf forms, Ian could have stopped this with a single command. But they were currently all humans, sitting around a table...previously sitting around a table in a cabin they had found, and Dakota's rage was just as strong if not stronger than Ian's word as alpha. Nathan had led them all into a dangerous situation, a potentially fatal mistake that he'd hopefully learn from this time around. Nathan too was on his feet now, everyone was actually, and everyone's eyes were trained warily on Dakota. "Kota! Kota hey, shh, Kota..." That was Kaya's voice, she had placed herself directly in front of him, her hands on his bare chest, her eyes fighting to meet his. Every muscle in Dakota's body had visibly tensed and heat radiated off of him despite his already naturally high body temperature. Kaya was speaking softly to him as her hands left his chest to stroke the side of his face and ran her fingers through his hair. There was a desperate rush to her actions as she tried to reach Dakota whose eyes still lingered on Nathan. His eyes; they were framed by the heavy shadows left from lack of sleep. A coldness to them that rivaled even the inhuman bloodsuckers they hunted. Anger was obvious, but hidden behind it was eight years of pain. Pain not forgotten by his pack, but they had grown so used to it that most days they didn't give it a second thought. Kaya though, she was always quick to try and wish it away. She looped her thin arms around his neck and pulled him close enough for their foreheads to almost touch. "Kota..." She was knowingly putting herself in a very dangerous situation and the entire pack held their breath as they watched for Dakota's reaction. While she had been with them longer than Nathan had, she was still fairly new and hadn't been around to witness when Dakota's entire world shattered before them all. She came afterwards to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. Kaya never quite understood the severity of it all though and seemed convinced that she could fix him everytime. The pack knew better. They knew they could never truly trust Dakota anymore. They would leave their lives in his hands without a second thought. But concerning his tortured self there was no way of telling if he would flip or recover, like right now as they all waited, half expecting him to simply knock Kaya out of the way in his rage. He'd done it before, with just about each member who had ever tried to stop him, so no one would be surprised if he did this time as well. Each breath Dakota took looked almost painfully heavy with the rise and fall of his exposed chest. His expression still looked ready to attack without warning, but there was an exhaustion setting in that also made him look on the verge of passing out. Sleep didn't come easily for him, always going too long without enough, or sleeping for too long. It was usually fairly randomized, but the month of October always without fail had Dakota running on almost nothing at all. Kaya caught his eyes falter for a split second and her hands then moved, tracing his face to his neck across his shoulders and down his arms till her hands took his and she took a cautious half step backwards towards the door, "Let's go..." Her voice was soft, comforting, inviting, calling him towards safety. Safety for all of them. Dakota's eyes finally dropped to hers and he followed her out of the cabin, shutting the door behind them. Kaya smiled up at him, once again she'd succeeded in calming Dakota and she was obviously proud over her accomplishment. Dakota still had yet to speak but he freed his hands to wrap his arms around her and pulled her close, silently thanking her for all that she did for him. "Kota? Dakota!?" It had been almost two weeks since the incident in the cabin. This had been one of the pack's longer stays in one place. They hadn't been home since the beginning of October. They were still camping out in the abandoned cabin as it sat just over top a small town that had been terrorized by vampires as of late. This particular vampire didn't stray far from the center of the town though which made it a little difficult for a pack of wolves to move in for the kill. Which was the only reason they were still out here. Dakota had finally given into his exhaustion and had passed out on a mattress in what had probably been the equivalent of a guest bedroom back during the cabins prime. But as usual, sleep came at a price, and Dakota was thrashing in his sleep, chasing after an unreachable image in his head. It was one thing to toss or talk in his sleep, it was another to be scared for his life or others', and Kaya could tell the difference as she shook him awake, "Kota! Wake up!" His eyes flashed open, gasping for air and staring forward at the wall where just a split second ago he'd been staring instead after a little blonde girl with blood red eyes. "Clarke," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he struggled to catch his breath. Kaya sighed sadly, still praying for the day Dakota would be freed from this girl trapped in his heart, mind, memory, soul, and very existence. Clearly she was never coming back no matter how diligently they stayed in contact. Why couldn't Dakota see that? Or see how much she hated to watch him suffer over his lost love. She ran her hand through his hair like before, giving him a moment to catch his breath and adjust to being awake. "Ian's ready to head out," Kaya said, trying not to sound too impatient. Dakota pushed himself upright now, still shirtless as he had been for most of this trip; it was just easier that way. He looked towards Kaya who was now sitting beside him on the edge of the mattress. He scoffed at her words. "I needed sleep more than anything else." Kaya rolled her eyes. "You need rest, Dakota. How do you expect to get back home if you're too tired to even walk let alone phase?" Dakota didn't seem impressed and it was his turn now to run his hand through his own hair as he sighed. He was growing tired of this endless cycle and often found himself wondering what would happen if he stopped fighting through it every day. More than once Kaya had caught those thoughts of his and would be quick to scold him for them. Even if the one single thing he had to look forward to was a piece of paper traveled across the ocean from the very girl who haunted his dreams. "Hey," he said, looking back at Kaya. He hadn't even realized that he'd looked away. Her fingers were under his chin, tilting his head up to her level as she closed the distance between them until their lips touched. Dakota didn't move away. Maybe he was still too tired to react or possibly he was in shock, but then he was leaning into her kiss and the two lost themselves in the moment until a howl from outside broke them apart. Ian was calling, it was time to go. Dakotas eyes danced across Kayas face, the confusion obvious on his own. He'd never had any sort of romantic feelings for Kaya and that remained unchanged. But it didn't feel wrong to be here with her either. "Kaya," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he struggled to catch his breath. "I..." He trailed off, unsure what else to say. Home, he hadn't been since the beginning of October when he'd sent Clarke's birthday present well in advance to ensure that it would reach her on time. It was November now and he'd gone this entire time without a single letter. No pieces of paper to give meaning to his life. He didn't even know if his Clarke was still alive. She was destined to live a short life, and over the past eight years it had been literally killing him every day he couldn't see her. Every day she grew closer to the end of her short, unnatural life. Would they even tell him when she died? Or would the letters just stop and he'd be left forever wondering what had happened. If she was on her death bed would they allow him to come say goodbye, for the second time? Dakota had so many unanswered questions swimming around in his head and they were drawing out a heat from him the longer he thought of the vampire side of his family. They were family now, right? If Clarke was his, and they were hers, that made Christian and Sarah part of his family. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to rip the heads off their cold, dead, bloodthirsty bodies-- Kota! Again Kaya interrupted his thoughts, perhaps sensing the anger growing within him. She took his hands and got to her feet, pulling him up with her. She still held his hand as they left the room, then the cabin to go join the pack outside. The two of them phased, their recent thoughts an open book for everyone present to see, hear, think, feel. Dakota was in a dark, dark place and Ian almost visibly winced at the amount of pain his future successor was going through. He was so angry. At the vampires, at the wolves, at himself...no one was safe from Dakotas wrath. Well, maybe there was one person, but she was dead. Clarke was dead and he'd kissed Kaya. No, she'd kissed him. But it was fairly mutual, she loved him. He didn't love her. No wonder you guys took so long. Nathan never stopped, did he? Kota snarled, his body language clearly sending every warning in the book to the newer wolf that now was most definitely not the time to be messing with him. Did you get any sleep? Yeah I'm fine, lets just go. Home: he really wasn't ready for his worst fears to come true. Kaya nudged him and again he leaned back into her comforting presence. Ian eyed Kaya, his disapproving thoughts available for them all to hear before he took off, leading his pack back home to La Push. Forks was technically closer along the way home, but Dakota stayed with the pack all the way back to the reservation. They were all aware of his internal struggle over desperately wanting to go to Clarkes house but being too scared at what might be waiting for him. Thankfully though, this time no one mentioned it and so he was left to his thoughts all the way back till he sat on his own bed in his room. He had changed into clean clothes and now found himself staring at his wall of postcards. It wasn't all of them, not even close. He had almost eight years worth after all, most of which lived in an army of shoeboxes in his closet. And now, now he was to go collect the very last one. When had he gone from anxiety and uncertainty to assuming that Clarke had died!? Kayas voice resonated in his thoughts as he recalled her scoldings from earlier, "Every year you convince yourself that its her last. But Kota, at this rate shes going to be the one receiving a notice of death in the mail, YOUR death." Death. It had always been a bit of a mysterious subject for Dakota. Growing up he had a hard time grasping the concept. His parents had both died when he was young, too young to even realize they were gone. Whenever a member of the tribe died they were given back to the Earth, and so they were never really gone. When Clarkes mother Sarah had died he had been too focused on his mission to give her much thought. She was gone, but he had moved on at lightning speed as he had an infant to kill. Kill. Clarke should have died by his hands that night. But she was saved by his imprinting and so once again death escaped his thoughts, though only briefly. Clarke grew too fast, she would be an adult in half the time, and then would die in half the time as well. Then they took her from him and the thought of her death crossed his mind almost on the daily. When he wasn't thinking about her impending death he was contemplating his own. What was it like to die? Would it hurt? Would he be missed? Suddenly death went from nothing to everything for Dakota, and it terrified him. Dakota? He jumped at a knock on his door, not realizing how distracted hed been, Yeah? The door opened and his grandfather, Thom, stood in the doorway, "Theres food in the fridge if youre hungry right now." Dakota shook his head and looked away from his grandfather at that point. He didn't have much of an appetite as of late, Okay, well the council is calling a meeting tonight, make sure you attend, alright?" "Dakotas silence was mutually understood as agreement," Thom said, leaving his ever brooding grandson alone in the room. Dakota was infamous for skipping council meetings, but he could only stand so much pressure from the tribe at once. Everyone was just waiting for him to take his rightful place as Alpha. Dakota let out a sigh as he fell back onto his bed and rolled over onto his side, clenching his fist around his sheet as his frustrations ate away inside of him. I thought you had died. Dakota was outside of the Winters old residence now, his back leaning against his 1986 Toyota Corolla hatchback. It was a Twin Cam 16 GT-S but that didnt matter much right now as his eyes were locked dangerously on the vampire approaching him. Even in his human form the smell was overwhelming and all of his instincts screamed at him to kill the bloodsucker right then and there. You certainly look like you did. And suddenly Dakota was all too aware of how vulnerable he was at that moment. He hadnt slept or even eaten for weeks, and it showed. Im surprised you can even stand right now. Teresa didn't look impressed with the name calling, but she held out a bundle of letters tied together by twine. He hesitated to take them from her, but once safe in his hands he wanted nothing more than to phase and run as far away from there as he could. But part of the whole agreement with Teresa was that he could always come alone and in human form. Though what would that matter now? One of the letters in his hand would tell him Clarke had died and so hed never seen Teresa again. There were no spoken farewells between them, vampire and wolf just turned to both go their separate ways. Dakota tossed Clarkes letters onto the passenger seat before shifting into first gear and getting the hell out of there. He drove all the way back to La Push, parking at a spot overlooking the beach and killing the engine before finally turning to look at the letters beside him. His heart was racing as he picked them up with trembling hands. Untying the twine, he thumbed through the assortment of postcards and envelopes all addressed to him. Dakota was instantly hit with a pang of regret for having not come sooner. Clarke had gone almost an entire month without hearing from him but she never failed to write to him. Normally Dakota read her letters chronologically, but this time he couldn't stop himself from tearing into the envelope with the most recent postage date. She was worried about him, and asked if he'd received her letter. The next two were similar. What was this letter she kept mentioning? For the first time in a long time, death escaped his subconscious as he now rushed to locate the letter she kept asking about. He found a postcard dated on her birthday with an accompanying envelope. This one was particularly thick as though there was more than just a letter inside. Top o the mornin to ya! What? Had she lost her mind in his absence? Dakota read on, her enthusiasm and general over excitement was infectious and a smile slowly slipped across his face. Ireland huh? He was moving onto the letter now and had to fight his curiosity to not skip to the additional papers she'd sent. He'd always loved how she tried to share snippets of her life with him. He couldn't experience her growing up, but in a way he had though reading her letters. She had turned the subject to him now and Dakota felt awful for not writing all this time. She was worried without hearing from him and he had no excuse. Sure he had been on the road tracking vampires with the pack, but if he really wanted to, he could have run home to send a letter. Just a simple explanation for his lack of contact. But no, he hadn't even been able to do that for her. And so he was the cause of her worries. His grip on the paper tightened as his anger with himself rose up. There were crinkles in it now as he read on. He didn't get far however as the next couple lines stopped his heart and breath and all he could do was stare down at Clarke's perfect handwriting in disbelief. Was this real? Had he read that correctly? Just in case, he reread it, and again, and again. Clarke had stopped aging, and there were no words strong enough to describe the relief that took over him. Dakota couldn't concentrate on the rest of her letter and he turned his attention to the pages of Abrams notes. He couldn't make heads or tails of most of it other than the words "no physical changes," which had been underlined and circled twice. So she was safe. Clarke was safe and she wouldn't die, in fact she was returning home to him. There was a tapping at his window and Dakota broke away from Clarke's letter to see Kaya's concerned expression outside his car. How or why she was there didn't even cross his mind. Dakota didn't stop for a second to consider that she must have followed him ever since they had returned to La Push. The only thing on Dakota's mind now was Clarke. He opened his car door and lunged his arms around Kaya, lifting her up and spinning once before he set her back down, he still held her close. "She's alive," he finally breathed, smiling so loud you could hear it in his voice. "Clarke is alive." Without you I would fall apart tab I'm safe when I am in your arms tab Only you can set me free tab Only you can save me</s>

For rent Apartment room in East Union Apartments, two bedroom, 1 bathroom, moderate sized living room & Kitchen. Must be willing to contribute at least $1,000 Nuyen/mo for rent, all utilities paid for by me. Shared fridge and I am willing to cook for both of us. Must be mature and friendly. Contact Alexander @ 206-357-9904 That was the ad he sent out in the papers for a roommate. Alexander wasn't exactly hurting for nuyen on his lifestyle, but he knew that the company could always be appreciated and to that end he was happy to look for a potential roommate. Given he had given up the shadowrunning lifestyle, he wasn't really expecting anything out of the ordinary as well. A practicing adept, he was a human in his earlyish twenties who kept himself physically fit and in good condition no matter what. He had received a few promising propositions for roommates but few interested him as much as the elven woman Kino. So much so that he had even agreed to actually rent out the room to her they were to meet that day. Dressed in a casual jacket and dress shirt, the blonde-haired youth had been fussing around slightly with his laptop as he waited for the woman to arrive that morning. It was a sunny Seattle day, warmer than usual since they were finally entering Spring that week, and there was only a slightly cool breeze to remind anyone that it was still somewhat winter. Even then he wondered if he was a little overdressed? It was hard to say. But he did want to look his best to meet a potential roommate. The moment he heard a knock on the door though, it wasn't long before he got up and rose, opening the door with a smile. "Good morning!" he spoke, his tone friendly and warm.

"Good morning, handsome," said the woman in the doorway in an appreciative tone. There stood in the doorway a woman with skin the shade of obsidian, her irises were like rubies, glinting in the light. If Alexander was overdressed his future roommate was the definition of underdressed, she wore a short skirt that went well up past her knees. White thigh highs ran up those shapely, toned legs of hers. She wore a white tank top, but it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, for one it was tight and clung tightly to her sizable chest, another was her nipples blatantly straining against the fabric. She had a black leather jacket on that she left open obviously. Her long white hair, reached about the middle of her back, but now was in a braid over her shoulder. Her eyes looked over the tall man blonde, his seemingly innocent green eyes enrapturing to her. God he was hot, what a score of a roommate. "Sorry, was just appreciating the view. You didn't have to dress up for me." She smiled, her hand reaching out to shake. "I'm Kino, in the flesh."</s>

Gotham City is the birthplace and residence of the fearsome vigilante known as Batman. It is a large bustling city located on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States, in the federated state of New Jersey, only across the bay from its sister city, Metropolis, Delaware in the District of Metropolis. Always a literal cesspool filled with criminals, corruption, pollution and vermin infestations, Gotham is considered by some to be the most dangerous and criminally corrupt city in the world. By day, it is an attractive and alluring tourist location, while by night, the place transforms into every decent person's worst nightmare. Midtown Gotham City is also where Gotham Tower, Wayne Tower, Gotham Pier and the Prewitt Building are located. Robinson Park is established in 1782, Robinson Park is the largest park in Gotham City, covering an area of three hundred acres in central Gotham. The park includes a statue representing the faceless civilian heroes of Gotham rests within Robinson Park as well, as a silent inspiration to the citizens of the city. The park also possesses a Greco-roman amphitheater. Containing a reservoir that feeds from the Finger River which runs through Midtown, the park features a memorial/dedication site to many of the city's servicemen, such as police, firemen and medical teams, who have helped save the city from some of its many catastrophic events.Many names of those who died in service protecting the city are engraved in the stone wall surrounding the park. It is here, in Robinson Park, that this adventure begins. SHADOWS in the SEWERS!!! The newspaper's title was trying to tear itself off of the paper it was printed on to leap in the readers face to scare them. In big, bold, black letters, the headline was followed by a singular, grainy picture of some thing skulking around in one of the multiple tunnels that mazed beneath Gotham City. With a place made of multiple islands and surrounded by rivers, The Gotham City Sewers was one of the most complex municipal water systems in the country. It relied on a combination of tunnels, aqueducts, reservoirs and distribution pipes built underneath Gotham City to meet the daily needs of the city's residents and visitors. And apparently, there was something down there. The article explained that for the past few days, sanitation workers had been hearing strange noises in the sewers. Which was almost normal, for a place like Gotham City where one could potentially see Killer Croc stepping into an AA meeting with both criminals and heroes to speak about their consumption problems. But yesterday, someone was able to snap a picture of the thing. And whatever the hell it was, it wasn't something that had been seen before in the city. It didn't look like anything other than a very large, very tall biped. A sasquatch that got lost? Swamp Thing that was sucked in through a vent pipe and got lost down there? Teen-aged, mutated ninja tortoises? None of the workers had been maimed or killed, so that was a nice start. Maybe the thing wasn't too dangerous, or wasn't hungry. Whatever was going on, there was only one way to find out. Go down there and find it! Luckily, a relatively well-known (to the costumed folk of the city) entrance to the sewer system was behind the Wayne Botanical Gardens in Robinson Park. The place was pretty much the center of the city and was as good a place as any to start searching for tall, wide creatures shot in low-quality pixel photos. But who in their right mind would step into the Gotham City sewers on such a bizarre quest?

People often asked Harley how on earth she didn't get cold in that red and black latex. Especially when she was out on a crisp autumn evening, delving into sewers. Depending on her mood, she'd either joke that she liked the cold making her nipples all perky, or that her alabaster white skin acted like polar bear fur. In truth, she barely ever got cold. When she spoke to other feminine costumed characters, they said something similar. Could it be that some higher power was conspiring to keep them scantily clad? Who knows. What she did know is that you should never look the other way when weird things pop up in your sewers. If that weird thing came from someone's rear end, they should go see a doctor. If it came from anywhere else, someone in a ridiculous get-up needs to delve into the sewers and beat some sense into it! And today, out of all the sirens, Harley had picked the short straw. With her trusty toolkit of hammer, baseball bat, pistols, and nose plugs, she crept into the sewers, ready to go monster hunting...</s>

It was an unassuming building of course, nothing to set it apart from its neighbors, no bouncer outside, no hint of the music that seethed within its walls. If you hadn't known this was the place, you must admit, you would never have guessed it. Some say there's a secret tunnel to get in, some say there are any number of ways in, and since you don't think you've ever seen anyone going in or out, you're pretty sure there must be at least a few alternate routes, but this is the place. At least, you hope... Any doubt is banished once you step inside. You have no idea how they muffle the noise or what they use to hide the students that come in and out, but the minute you open the outer door you can hear the heartbeat thumping of the drums faintly. The dark-lit hallway inside is short, with a handful of changing rooms on either side, no genders marked on the doors, just a hand-lettered sign that simply reads 'No Sex inside', and beneath that in smaller letters '(That's what the booths and bathrooms are for)'. You'd swear the handwriting is familiar, but the signature simply reads, 'Management', and with that alone it's pretty easy to know that you won't be finding out who wrote it any time soon. The people who run the club are notoriously secretive after all... After the Changing rooms, the second door, and once you open it, the beat strikes you like a physical blow as you step into the club. The lower floor is massive, dimly lit booths surrounding a colorlit dance floor on either side, a DJ's booth opposite the door you entered through where some girl in a mask is spinning records when she isn't stepping back and forth, shaking her bared breasts for anyone who wants a look to see. The booths have curtains, presumably for those who want (a little) more privacy for some fun, though you can see at least a half dozen couples who haven't even bothered, and a dozen more groupings of people on the dance floor doing anything from making out while swaying to the beat to full-on fucking while the music and the dancers move around them. There's an upper ring too, accessible by stairs to lead to several tables, and a bar, perched directly over top of the DJ's booth. You can't see as easily up there, but you don't need to see over the edge to spot at least two more couples in the throes of passion. Now that you look again, you definitely recognize a handful of the faces in the crowd! Or at least... You think you do... Where some are unmistakable, others aren't so certain, and besides, even if you did really know them, the whole saying was 'what happens at Club Beacon, stays at Club Beacon' for a reason. Adam wandered through the club with a smirk on his face; his scar was hidden by some makeup and his hair was changed to be a jet black rather than the fiery red that stood up so much but even with the alterations he was still a rather handsome and attractive young man, drawing the eyes of many interested partners, both male and female. He was only here to find one target though and his eyes roamed the crowds to see if he could spot her. He had heard of Blake joining a team at Beacon recently, a team of young women...he intended to make each of the girl's in Blake's teams into his little playthings before going for her in the end; his ultimate revenge for her leaving him and the group.

The music beat loudly all over the place as one of the members of the so-called "Team RWBY" entered through one of the entrances of the somewhat shady club. Even if it was named Club Beacon, anyone could see none of the top graded students would hang out in such a place. Actually, that was one of the main reasons why Yang Xiao Long was there all by herself. She had tried convincing every single one of her teammates, from Ruby to Weiss and even Blake, to accompany her there. She wasn't that interested in all the sex and making up scenes, but more in the fun such a new place could bring to her. After all, seeing new faces was always a good and quite interesting thing, right? The blonde woman, wearing her usual outfit consisting of dark shorts, a yellow tank top with her symbol carved on it, as well as a more than gentle cleavage, and a brown jacket quickly approached the bar. Not without glancing at both sides, a wide smirk forming on her lips as she saw the many couples having fun at both sides of her. Quite...the expected view, on the other hand. But it was still amusing, at least to her. "Strawberry sunrise. No ice. Ah, and one of those little umbrellas." She simply ordered as soon as she spotted the barman, smirking even more widely as she simply leaned against the bar and stared at the whole crowd dancing and having fun in right in front of her. Wondering whether she'd be joining in or simply try to flirt with some random guy, or girl, before calling it a night. At least those were her thoughts until a quite handsome man passed by where she was. His face was somewhat pale, yet his features were alluring. That dark hair making the perfect contrast with his skin as the blue eye of his she could spot made his whole appearance stand out even more. Yang simply grabbed the glass with the drink she had just ordered and took a sip. Resting both arms and her back against the small surface as she kept eyeing the quite sexy stranger for a while, without even trying to hide her interest. The quite cocky grin in her lips growing even wider while she wondered whether he'd approach or whether she'd be the one doing so. She wasn't really trying to hook up that night though, especially since she was trying to craft something like a relationship with her recent crush, Blake. But, after Blake's seemingly lack of interest for her, or her suggestion, that night, she was torn on what to do next. Wondering whether Blake's feelings towards herself resembled anything like her own as she kept staring at Adam, now without even noticing it.</s>

"The Hardways" nightclub was everything you might expect from a trendy, west coast type nightclub. You had a cavernous main seating area in the shape of an octagon, easily one hundred feet across. The central area was dominated by an eight-sided bar, with a spiral staircase at its center. Classic beats, along with more modern club fare, was piped in through a several thousand watt sound system with speakers strategically placed around the ceiling, as well as other speakers placed around one of the eight phone booth-sized rooms situated amongst the tables and couches that the many well-to-do patrons lounged around. All of these booths were the main attraction for this particular establishment, constructed of polished slate tile. Various holes were placed along its surface, with sliding barriers that the occupant could open and close to their leisure. Men would then slide various parts of their anatomies into these openings, which the occupant would then attend to. The occupants could charge a fee if they wished, making it an incentive for those who were somewhat strapped for cash. Leroy, the owner, could be called anything but handsome, despite being dressed in hand tailored business wear. He was shortish at five foot two, in his mid fifties, balding, and fat. But for what he lacked in appearance, he made up for in intelligence and business acumen. The "Booths" were his own idea, as he knew damn well that sex was on everyone's minds. He had decided to provide a safe place for consenting adults to engage in such activities, and only charged the occupants of the booth a nominal fee of 10%. He surveyed the crowd, and nodded. It was a full, packed house tonight, with everyone spending quite freely. Life was good. He grinned a little, as a rather innocent-looking forty-something woman, likely a tired mom, wearing a form-fitting pencil skirt paired with somewhat tightly stretched sweater top, exited the booth. She shyly wiped around her glossy, smeared lips, and then licked them clean, as several satisfied men staggered away from the holes they had thrust their manhoods into. She adjusted her glasses, placed a few stray strands of her working-class bun hairstyle back into place, and somewhat clumsily strutted up to Leroy, handing him five hundred dollar bills from the fat stack of cash she had in her hands, just before tucking it away into her purse. He nodded, pocketed them quickly, and watched as she left the area, escorted by two burly men under his employ. Margaret was an amazing woman, and arguably one of his best earners for the Milf niche. His two goons would make certain she got to her station wagon safely, as she always tipped well. The booth changed its lights from yellow to red, as the holes closed, with its inner tiled area being flushed and steamed cleaned by an automated, shower-like system. After a single minute, the booth's lights changed to green, signalling that it was then ready for a new occupant(s).

In the crowd, close to the now free Booth, something Happened: A very young succubus with the name Meru, age 18, made it into Club and got the attention of a group of guys who were at least five years older than her. Two of them slipped some bags with party drugs into one of her stockings and gave her some naughty attention. She was high and naughty. As they noticed, the three of them entered the booth and the other Guys started to gather around the holes. Inside the booth, Meru and the two Guys started to get naughty. She opened the holes to let the other Guys into the fun too, as they handed them neon-colored condoms from inside the booth and got ready for the two Guys to fuck her ass and pussy.</s>

Halaster sat in his huge, comfortable-looking chair, what with its luxuriant, overstuffed cushions that seemed to mold themselves to his body, making it seem like he was resting upon a cloud. Upon the gilded table to his side was a silver platter, with a green glass wine bottle upon it, complete with a wicker-woven guard around to prevent breakage during shipping. The heavily engraved, gem-encrusted chalice next to it was filled with the freshly opened vintage, its fragrance hinting that its taste was worth a king's ransom. It remained untouched. While the wizard most definitely enjoyed his wine, he felt it best to avoid the many temptations this place offered, and keep his mind sharp. This had been his only time working for the proprietress, and frankly, he just didn't trust her yet. His eyes wandered a little, as one of the before mentioned temptations wandered past him, clad in little more than a filmy loincloth and halter. They did little to hide her toned, statuesque body from view, and did even more to excite the balding, fat, aged male patron that eagerly followed her as she tugged upon his leash. Many more female workers lounged about with other patrons, some male, some female, and others indeterminate. Soft, enchanting music came from all corners of the room, as some of the workers held and played exotic-looking instruments of all types. More than a few of them met eyes with Halaster, using carefully controlled looks to try and stimulate interest, so they might sell him a much desired service. Halaster was old, even by elven standards, but could easily be called a handsome man owing to the power he commanded. He appeared to be no older than his mid forties, but carried himself like a much younger, confident man. His body was anything but impressive, his corded, lean muscles quite visible through the open collar of his robe. His short cropped black hair had streaks of gray in it, as did his well-trimmed beard. They were well trained. For all of his discipline, Halaster was still very much a man, and his arousal was at an all-time high. If not for his thick wizardly robes, he would be pitching a most impressive crotch tent. He just took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and rested his head upon the high back of his chair, and let his mind wander. His ears stayed sharp, listening for any noise that might be out of place. The mercenary cleared his hind, letting it rest, yet still staying awake and alert, a sort of half doze technique he learned from the night watchmen during his time in the king's army. It might have been a few minutes, it might have been an hour. The wizard was brought from his reverie not by a sound, but by an unmistakable scent. Something exotic and foreign, rare, dark, and seductive. Few people knew that such perfumes were made from the chemicals found in the stomachs of cetacean type mammals, but given its effect on the senses, no one really cared. He opened his eyes, and saw a beautifully dressed, and equally beautiful dusky skinned elven female, with flowing white hair seated herself across from him. Her violet shaded eyes sparkled like pools of molten amethyst, and studied him carefully. Her flawless face wore no expression, not surprising given the longevity of her race, and the advanced wisdom such advanced years offer. Halaster uncrossed his arms, and tossed a small leather pouch, stained with blood, upon the low table between them. The Dark elf maiden narrowed her eyes at the small leather container. She quickly snatched it up with well-manicured fingers, and loosened its drawstrings. She worked it open, and peered inside. She bit her lower lip, and then looked back to the wizard. "Did he suffer?" She asked, her tone laced with an acidic edge. Halaster shrugged, and murmured softly. "He begged a lot, and there was a lot of crying." The proprietress's face took on a sadistic grin, as she tightened the leather pouch closed. "Just a moment, and I will retrieve your compensation." She whispered, standing up with a fluid grace, and spinning with a well-practiced, seductive flourish. Her gown blowing in the breeze behind her as she walked. Halaster's eyes dropped to watch her barely covered, shapely rear end sway this way and that behind the impossibly thin fabric. He then let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He glanced to his filled goblet, and reached for it. "Why not?" he whispered to drinking vessel, as if it could hear him. "Let's talk." As he sipped, letting the alcohol mixed with the blackberry base soothe his nerves.

Over the few years she got to know the elven woman she was on her way to greet, Shirosume had accepted the few requirements. First, she needed to have her ass length raven hair clipped or pinned up. Currently her long hair was twisted into a thin clump on the back of her head, two combs of glass beads making silvery flowers holding the hair in place in a deceptively small bun. Her face framed by the straight cut front sections in a rather distinct style, just at her jawline. Second, she was required to wear at least two pieces of jewelry. Since her hair clips didn't count, she had matching glass beaded earrings and a bracelet in the same small flowers and almost pearly beads. Luckily she had gotten the set for a very cheap price since the main piece, a large collar necklace that was designed to rest down the chest towards the ribs, had been destroyed. This provided sparkle near her emerald eyes and down by her manicured fingers. Nails kept in a small clawed shape and painted with a thin coat of glossy black. A contrast against her rather pale skin. Finally, she was required to wear very revealing outfits. At least for her taste. The compromise had been less than fifty percent of her torso could be covered, and she actively pushed that barrier. Today she was wearing a silvery grey dress, with a crossing top section that worked to hold her full bust while a floor length skirt was split twice in the front at the waist, a center panel dropping between her legs while the back panel hardly fit around her full hips and thighs. Matching silver sandles completed her look, and the fabric had an iridescent sheen that both matched the glass accents and accentuated her dramatic hourglass figure. For a human, it was nearly unheard of. It was lucky this human had a tiny amount of witch and elven blood in her, or she wouldn't have managed this long without being scooped up and corrupted. As it was just being around the working women reminded her how lucky she was. Especially as she caught the eye of the elven woman she was here to see. "Shiro," the woman greeted before pointing to an arm chair near a seated gentleman, "I'll be with you soon." It always made the raven haired woman blush just slightly, how that woman spoke. So without a word Shirosume moved to sit in the smaller arm chair. Her full curves on display as well as a white and silver sparrow tattoo on her hip. It moved and shifted about, showing it was a magical marking. Currently it was the only thing keeping her breasts somewhat in check.</s>

So much time had passed. Time that also felt like none at all. There was a time. A cool night breeze. A castle. A simple reflecting pool. The witch staring back up at him through it. "The truth is," he said, "it?" His sapphire eyes should have shown discomfort at the revelation but they were hidden behind creased lids formed by the far too friendly smile that tended to keep itself plastered to his face. He'd run lithe fingers through his long blonde bangs in an attempt to hide his hesitation. "My, that certainly is a high price, isn't it?" He'd given it to her though. It was worth it at the time. Then again, if it hadn't been, it wouldn't have been the price to begin with. "...Tell me about your current predicament." "Ah, so you do want truths you already know as well then..." And on they went once answered. "... And why is it you're making this particular wish?" "Well that one is certainly easy. I feel as though you're attempting to lull me into a false sense of security here..." There had been fewer questions than he expected and eventually their conversation shifted tone. "...Now, given what I just revealed to you Fai, I want you to explain to me how that other wish of yours could possibly make any sense." He knew it was coming. His demeanor changed drastically at that time. "I can't allow myself to simply die off. Not with what's at stake if that were to happen any time soon. That other wish of mine comes first and foremost, and I won't allow myself to have this one until it's been fulfilled... However. If for some reason or another I were to be stricken down by forces beyond my own control, I would greet my wish to die just as gratefully as any other. Possibly just as much as you would given your own circumstance. It just so happens that a death like that would, unfortunately, be tainted with far more regret than I've ever had in this horrible life." There were times, both before and after, of tender flesh mingling sensually with rough skin. Sweet, happy mewls melting together with low, warm grunts. A beautiful pleasure he'd never allowed himself to have in the past. A pleasure, and a time, that he could no longer allow himself to have going forward. More recently, another time. A moment of desperation where he'd been willing to forego everything; his other wishes, selfish desires, the wellbeing of the ones he'd loved for so long, everything he'd worked for. Even knowing what it meant for him, he'd still all but begged his crimson-eyed companion to simply let him die. For their wishes, their own desires, for the wellbeing of those he'd gotten far too close to and everything they'd worked for. Because he truly knew what it meant for them if the wish he was making at that moment wasn't granted. It wasn't. And it burned him to his very core. As it stood now, time was moving on once again. Irreparable change would taint it. And he knew far too well how much worse things would be getting from here. Welcome to a new world!" Mokona did her best to sing her usual happy tune as rabbit-like feet touched the new ground for the first time. Fai decided to repay the favor, his voice ringing out gently in its ever sweet tune as a broad smile stretched its way across his face. "I certainly hope we've ended up better off than the last time." A chuckle pierced his chest that was perky, but still somewhat hollow, as the distortion around them began to melt away to reveal their new surroundings. Even before the beautiful forest that surrounded them came into view, the sounds of insects and birds, life of all kinds skittering through the brush, and the gentle sway of leaves wafting in the wind managed to relax the tension in his shoulders just the slightest bit. Already, it was so much better than the still, stagnant air of Tokyo. At this point, he couldn't have even brought himself to ask for this much of a treat. "Lovely," he sighed. In neglecting to look over toward Kurogane to see his reaction due to the soreness turning his gaze on him caused at the moment, he abruptly turned himself bodily toward the two children they travelled with. He'd taken a breath to make a gentle comment on the sad state the heavily injured party was currently in, but was forced to pause when his beautiful flourite blue eye landed instead on their distinct lack of being there. He looked around slowly, and surely enough they were nowhere in sight. Tension raced through him again. "Now Mokona," it was meant to be a gentle scolding in that same sweet tune of his, but as he stared at the spot where their companions should be, it took on a slightly darker tone that reflected his immense worry; one that had wiped that cooky smile right off his pretty face. "Surely it wasn't the best time for this again." He knew the moment his attention had set there that they'd need to find them soon. Every single one of them was injured, each moreso than the last. The need already had him opening his newly gained senses in preparation. And had a bright gold color puddling into, and taking over the natural state of his eye.

At least they hadn't landed in a pile this time... Kurogane ached from the tips of his toes up to the top of his head, which was pounding. Out of the four of them, he had garnered the least amount of physical damage but that didn't mean he was up for their usual dog pile when changing dimensions; and the other three would have wound up even more injured than they already were. Sakura's bloodied body, Syaoran's new Syaoran's weakened state, and Fai... Something gripped at his chest, reaching inside the rib cage to claw at his heart. Fai was likely the worst off of all of them. The small wound on his wrist burned as he thought of the vampire's blood dripping into his own to be fed to the mage. The mage who didn't want it. Kurogane turned to look at his companion and tried not to flinch at that empty smile. He knew he should say something, but no words came. An apology was out of the question. It would be an empty lie, and Fai would be able to tell with ease. He was given a distraction in probably the worst possible way. It only took a moment to scan the area to realize that their young companions were nowhere to be seen, and his own worry matched Fai's. Sakura was hurt, and not just slightly either, and he didn't exactly trust this new Syaoran to keep her safe the way he had the fake Syaoran. Or maybe this one was the fake? Did it really matter? The kid he knew was gone. Kurogane gritted his teeth and reached out to snag Mokona by the cheeks. He pulled the little creature's face cruelly. "So," he started with an irritated growl. Mokona struggled in his grasp and kicked her little feet. "Ow! Owowowow!" She complained, flailing her arms and ears. Kurogane ignored the squirming and just pinched her harder. "Where are they?" "Mokona doesn't know!" She answered. "Are they even here?!" "Mokona doesn't know!" She cried again, and squealed out as Kurogane pulled harder on her face.</s>

An Imperial class star destroyer. The great triangular thing is a sight to behold...and Libi Agana wished she could be beholding it from much farther away...or at the very least, not directly on it. The cervine appearance female walked with her hands behind the small of her back. She was dressed in modest gray garb, a short sleeved wrap like top that fit snug around her considerable chest before going into the narrow slope of her waist and filling out at her dense hips, the garment ending in an uneven skirt and some mid-thigh shorts just beneath. A curvaceous appearance for the mostly cream but accented honey pelted one. Her spotted oval ears that protruded from her shoulder-length layered scarlet hair gave a solid 'flap' every 3 or so minutes and were the only things that hinted at her inner turmoil. Her heart was beating so loud as she walked behind the empire-recruiter, she was amazed her ribs were not broken beneath the drumming. She wasn't a stranger to a bit of trouble, though usual it was her own mischief that landed her in various pickles, nothing like this though... Now, it was her passion for navigation that put her in the hot seat. When the recruiter had approached her, having learned about some of her expert steersmanship, it wasn't as though she could simply say 'no', well, perhaps she could have...but she might have ended up with a laser blaster through the chest if she declined in too disrespectful of a way. And with her impish personality at times, she didn't -always- know what was the most 'respectful' way to respond to someone. So she had said she would be 'up for an interview sometime'...not realizing 'sometime' would translate to him as right after she boarded his pod-craft then and there, and took her to this ship waiting above her temporary-home-planet. So much for a cagey answer she could weasel her way out of later. Now she was in the midst of a dangerous fleet and she needed to get the fuck out of there. The recruiter was reading a pad with some sort of relevant info on it, Libi couldn't be sure as she did not recognize the language, but with his head down she figured, now was a good time? They were finally out of eye shot of anyone else, for a brief second. She saddled up right next to him, taking a casual exhale as she waved her arms in front and behind herself, letting the other get used to her swaying limbs, be comfortable with the motion and noticing the in his peripheral vision, and as she glided them near his side, she closed her fist tightly and then pressed down on a certain button that was hidden beneath her wrist wraps. A plume of pearl pink wafted right out of the fibers of the garment and upwards, but it dispersed quite quickly so it's bright shade was not too overt unless one was prepared for it. The mist fluttered up and directly into the head-hunters nose, and for two more steps, he was just fine, but on the third... He suddenly stopped, his hand against his stomach as it gurgled, "Ugh...w-wha?" He lurched, bending over and still holding his own gut, "Ah...ow." "You ok there sir?" Libi feigned worry, doing everything in her power not to smirk as she gave the man a gentle pat on the back. "Y-Yes...just...give me a moment I- ULP!" He placed his fist against his own mouth, dropping the electronic device and eyes widening, the realization hitting him as the bile struck his uvula, "I-I'll be right back, stay here." He rushed forward, searching for the lavatory like his life depended on it. "Suuuuuure thing, yup yup, waiting -right- here! Uh-huh!" She balanced on her heels with her hands together behind her back, and then rocked forward on her toes, like a child waiting patiently at school, watching with a quirk of her brow until the man turned the corner down the corridor. The buxom doe reached down, snatching the device he had dropped, before she spun around faster and twice-as-less graceful as a ballerina and speed walked the opposite direction. Ok, she had 20 minutes while he puked his guts out without end and would therefore be unable to do anything. Him dropping this official looking gadget was a boon she hadn't expected but was endlessly thankful for. She quickly placed her index finger to the screen and started searching for sigils and words she recognized, zooming through and trying to pause and hide every time she heard footsteps around her. Oh...shit...how would she get -off- the vessel? She could navigate her way through 30 different systems without a glance at a map or star chart, but figuring out which damn buttons to push or how to guide the controls was as lost a talent on her as flight was to the wingless birds of Zekudao. She'd need a pilot...but how was she just supposed to go up to a empire pilot for help? 'Uh sir, I'm not supposed to be here can you drop me off at the next planet, hell, even the next moon with a port?' No no there had to be- Her finger finally stopped swiping, and she recognized the sigils. 'Prison Sector Roster.' Who more would want to get out of here than someone who was held captive? She clicked on a few names, searching and searching until the word 'pilot' like a sign from heaven was etched beside a specific name, and more importantly, a specific jail cell number. Perfect. Whether she was divinely blessed or just really good at sneaking, the fawn-woman made it to the bay without being spotted, and she began to tip toe along the passage, holding the gizmo close to her weighty chest to help hide the light emanating from it, her bespectacled jade eyes searching in the dimmer light of the area. Hmm, perhaps they kept it dark to keep the spirit of the occupants nice and bleak...what a dreary thought. She was just about to make it to the number of her hopefully-savior, in fact she started to see the shape of -someone-...quite colossal within, being in view herself of the occupant, but then she heard a door 'ssshhhhh' open, the mechanical sliding making her oval lobes do an anxious flinch. She looked directly up and spotted some haphazard pipes and bars that made up the hull. She ran at the bars, jumped, pressed her left foot into one of the rails, and then shot off and up at an angle so as too grab some of the trappings of the chamber. She put the pad in her mouth to hold it as she swung her legs together like a trapeze artist and then folding on on herself like a ball within the ducts. A roller-polly hanging off a big metal pipe. She didn't look to see who was walking down the hallway below her, eyes clamped shut as her elbows shook in the curled up angle she was dangling, trying to breath as quietly as she possibly could while the sinewy in her arms began to cry from the strain. Step. step. step. step. step. step. step.. step... And when the gait was completely gone, she unfurled her knees from her stomach and dropped down, though her feet hit the ground a bit too roughly and she tripped back and onto her peachy rear with a huff, and with the stress of it all for a moment she laid back down completely, 'fwumphing' right onto the floor back-first, her arms spread like a starfish with the important pad over her stomach. She could hear the blood rushing in her ear, her mound like chest rising and falling faintly with her breath as she muttered in relief, but not too much relief considering she wasn't out of the thick of it yet, "For the love of the fuckin stars. My gods, ugh."

"Zarr" as he was called, Just crouched in his tiny cell, feeling his rage build up within him like a furious tide. How in the hells could he have been so stupid?"Oh", trust me."That damn Toydarian had said to him. "Just do this one run, and your debt it paid." And so, the smuggler had reluctantly agreed. His prison room was small even by human standards, and even smaller to an average sized Shistavanen. Zarr however was large even for his race, towering over most people at an even ten feet high, weighing in at roughly six hundred pounds. He growled low and deep in his chest, rumbling the walls all around him, as if he was absorbing the very darkness of the prison around him. He would squeeze that damn treacherous Toydarian until the scrubby little hairs on his abdomen bled. Zarr just shook his head. He had dealt with Ratto numerous times in the past, and after well over a hundred successful runs, had come to trust him. Never again. That bastard had set him up, sending him forth on what he thought was a standard issue smuggling run, knowing full well a damn Imperial patrol was in the area. He was used as little more than a distraction. A decoy. Balthazar wanted to stand up and roar as his anger grew, only to fall silent, as he heard what sounded like the pattering of little hooved feet down the hallway. His jackal-like pointed ears perked up, as his muscular neck turned his huge, lupine head to face the barred door, making his heavy chains rattle a little. His eyes opened slightly, bathing the area in a dull, reddish glow. The results of one of many invasive experiments that imperial scientists performed upon him. They had discovered a type of creature with symbiotic bacteria in its eyes, that made a creature able to see in the infrared spectrum, in exchange for a safe place to live and thrive. A painful experience to be sure, having his eyes ripped out by little human hands, and then replaced with the eyes of some other poor unlucky creature. The huge, black furred wolf man just grunted at the memory, and kept his eyes only partially opened, as the bright lights of his cell caused his light sensitive eyes a small amount of discomfort. He saw what looked like a small, reindeer-like female humanoid running towards his cell, only to jump off of it, and disappear somewhere into the ceiling outside of his cell, out of his view. His eyes opened a little wider, as he pursed his lips around his fangs. His muscles creaked as he stood up, slamming his head into the ceiling. He grunted, and swore low under his breath. Had he not been distracted, his keen ears would have picked up the sound of the four storm troopers marching down the hallway, hammering out their steps in mindless, self-sacrifice to that accursed human centrist empire. He thought to leap at the bars, and grab one with his mighty muscled claw. Oh how satisfying it would be to rip them to complete shreds while their comrades screamed in terror, but alas, his chains were specially forged for bigger, stronger creatures like him. He just waited for them to come into view. His great furred cheeks billowed out, as he spat at them in disgust. His aim however was just as bad as theirs was with their blaster rifles, hitting the bars. He flattened his ears, and let loose another rumbling growl as they ignored him. A few moments later, after they were out of earshot, he then heard what sounded like a very generous, peachy-like behind hit the ground just outside of his cell. Zarr didn't look in her direction, but chuckled, as he inhaled the air around him, his keen, wolf nose taking in her scent. He found it stimulating his more vestigial neural pathways, awakening his more less evolved desires to hunt down, and chase prey animals for sport. His voice was low and deep, rumbling and rattling the bars to his cell as he murmured."And who might you be? Some tender morsel sent to tempt and torment the hungry animal they haven't fed for about a week?" He was of course exaggerating a little. The scientists insisted on keeping their prized test subject well-fed before their arrival in a few days, but it made for good conversation.</s>

Jabuku was the spitting image of his great uncle, the well-known and feared Jabba the Hutt. Jabuku sat on his dias, his fat rolls glistened with saliva and slime that oozed from his body and dropped from his large tongue that hung out of his gaping mouth. His feline eyes locked onto the beautiful, youthful figure of Ziana Eris as she was brought into his throne room, his court whispering among themselves at the sight. After all, Ziana was well known in the sector for being one of the best bounty hunters in the sector and not someone to be trifled with. Yet, he let out a guttural laugh at the sight of her and bellowed something to one of his guards who nodded and quickly slapped a collar around her neck., a symbol of her new subservience. With that taken care of, Jabuku turned his attention to Ziana and began to speak in his grotesque language, his massive tongue still hanging from his gaping mouth and his large tail swaying back and forth. "His Lordship, Jabuku the Hutt would like to welcome you to his court," the droid translated for him as he licked his lips and eyed Ziana keenly. "Everyone knows of the powerful bounty hunter, Ziana Eris...you'll be the jewel of my harem." The droid continued, "To think...some Imperial Senator's son would some how capture you and sell you off to me. I guess you aren't as strong as you seem." Jabuku bellowed out a deep laugh at the end to which the entirety of his court joined in.

"You'd do well to remember my reputation, slug," Ziana snarled, not hiding her disgust in the slightest. The... deal she'd made with the senator's son hadn't included this, and surely whatever he had planned for her was far greater than a disposable sex slave to a Hutt, right? Right? Fuck, why'd she believe the slippery son of a bitch anyways? A guard hit her in the back of the leg with his staff, sending her to her knees. "Know your place, bitch. You kneel before His Lordship." "All of you will pay," she snarled, shaking back a long, loose blonde strand of hair. "I'll be free, and all of you will fucking pay." For a time, silence dominated the throne room, until Jabuku broke it with a boom, boisterous laugh. His laughter spread through his court, everyone there quite amused by her show of defiance. Quite unconcerned about her proclamation of revenge. And why shouldn't they be. She was fucked, well and truly. And if the rumors she'd heard of the Hutts were true, she would be well and truly fucked, until the Hutt lord bored of her, and fed her to a rancor.</s>

Welcome to a Jinsley Au production! Witness what happens when one of Jinsley is bored with nothing to do and all the muses in the world! And as a result drags the other half of this lovely duo into the mess!~ Love you, love! But this is also your fault!<3 Welcome to a modern retelling of our lovely Targaryen twins! If you are not aware of our original Got/Hotd babies, please take a gander here! We promise these modern babies will be just as feels-inducing as our firey prince and princess if not a little more fluffier. And if you're wondering why there seems to be so much effort in this thread compared to the original one... Remember when I said that this was born from boredom and nothing to do? Yeah, I was bored with nothing to do while I waited for my lovely partner to finish posts. So please enjoy my poor decisions and lack of patience and self-control that my wonderful partner is more than happy to support. Some key details to be noted: high Valerian is canon in this Au. we have equated it to an accessible version of Latin. It's a "living" language that can be taught in schools (although not available in ALL schools). Unfortunately, dragons do not exist. Le sighhhhhh. For the sake of the language, valyria still exists. The existence of other families that are mentioned in Asia is currently TBD. For now, all we know is that the families from old valyria exist in this world and, no, they are not closely related to one another. Lastly, shoutout to Duolingo for adding high Valerian and further fueling all of my modern muses XD valor Harris * (CURRENTLY PLAYING) xx ; (OO1) tab nonsense - Sabrina carpenter ; (OO2) tab universe - they ; (OO3) tab ocean eyes - American avenue ; (OO4) tab bad for business - Sabrina carpenter ; (OO5) tab melt - Zealand ; (OO6) tab girls like me don't cry - they ; (OO7) tab into your arms - Witt Lowry feat. Ava max ; (OO8) tab painkiller - Blackbeard ; (OO9) tab think about you - Tojo ; (O1O) tab twin flame - Machine Gun Kelly tab tabYOU`RE TOO GOOD FOR ME tab I'M TOO BAD TO KEEP tab I WANT YOU ONLY VISAERA CULTIVAR tabtab I HOPE THAT WE CAN LOVE THROUGH THE PAIN AFTER THE HONEYMOON FADES * (THE BASICS) x x ; (NAME) tab viscera Josephine cultivar ; (NICKNAME) tab vi (pronounced see), Sufi ; (AGE) tab eighteen ; (BIRTHDATE) tab June thirteenth ; (HEIGHT) tab five feet on a good day ; (EYE & HAIR COLOR) tab blue tab blonde ; (SEXUALITY) tab bisexual ; (birthplace) tab baltimore, maryland ; (PROFESSION) tab very active high school student * (MY ATTITUDE) x x SUPPORTIVE X x ) x giving support; providing sympathy or encouragement ENTHUSIASTIC X x ) x absorbing or controlling possession of the mind by any interest or pursuit; lively interest RESOURCEFUL X x ) x able to deal skillfully and promptly with new situations, difficulties, etc. PERSUASIVE X x ) x able, fitted, or intended to prevail on (a person) to do something, as by advising or urging PERCEPTIVE X x ) x having or showing keenness of insight, understanding, or intuition SENSITIVE X x ) x having acute mental or emotional sensibility; aware of and responsive to the feelings of others GUARDED X x ) x cautious; careful; prudent DUBIOUS X x ) x wavering or hesitating in opinion; inclined to doubt RESERVED X x ) x formal or self-restrained in manner and relationship; avoiding familiarity or intimacy with others * ( ALL ABOUT ME ) x x ; ( FACT OO1 ) tab Visaera was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland up until she was five. Her family comes from a long line of entrepreneurs with all of their wealth coming from the seafood industry. Celtigar, Inc. is the largest company in the country most known for the import and export of blue crab. Many who visit Baltimore will spend long hours and a lot of money for a table at House of Celtigar just to try their specialty blue crab dishes. Her father is the second youngest of five children. Although it is expected that his eldest brotherthe first born sonwill take over the business once his father steps down and retires, he still inherited the familys knack for business. Finishing top of the class with honors at Yale, he climbed up quickly in the business world; rising through the ranks at a near exponential rate. His expertise and overall work ethic earned him an executive position at Celtigar, Inc.s west coast office, requiring him to move his wife and daughter to Berkeley, California. ; ( FACT OO2 ) tab Before being a wife and mother, Visaera's mother had dreams and aspirations of being a principal ballerina. She also reached that goal, until a life altering injury prevented her from continuing with dance. So instead, she took all of her dance knowledge to NYU with the intention of becoming a dance instructor. That was where she met Visaera's father. He was in the masters program and was her TA for one of her business courses. They scandalously hit it off pretty quick. In-between classes, she was a private ballet instructor. Her students were the children of families closely associated with the Celtigars. She moved up to an instructor position in a dance academy after she and Visaera's father got married. When they all moved to California, she took a leap of faith to open her own dance studio. ; ( FACT OO3 ) tab It was a bit of a shock to Visaeras parents when they learned that the Celtigars opposed her name. After all, Visaera has Valyrian origins. But for the Celtigars, so many years detached from their home country and heavily business oriented, they thought her name too exotic. They worried that her unique name would close one too many doors; not even accounting for the fact that she is a member of the Celtigar family. But despite all the arguments, Visaeras mother fought for her name. When Visaera was old enough to understand the politics behind her family, she was told her mother went straight to her grandfather and said, I wont argue against whatever wishes you may have for my daughter, except that I will have her named Visaera whether you like it or not. Many back and forth arguments later, Visaeras grandparents relented. To soften the blow of this defeat, her parents decided to give her a second first name that she can use for future opportunities. And since her mother chose her first first name, her father got to choose her second first name. He chose Josephine after his grandmother. For years, various family members have asked her mother why she desperately wanted to name her daughter Visaera, but for some reason, she has kept that a close lipped secret. The only response she ever gives anyone that asks is that she just thought the name was very pretty. ; ( FACT OO4 ) tab Visaera is fluent in High Valyrian. Although she is Valyrian through her father's family, it was her motherwho isn't Valyrianthat insisted and encouraged her to learn and perfect it. Her father unfortunately was not part of this learning process, at least not actively. He knows a few words and phrases, but is unable to hold a coherent conversation. Her mother, on the other hand, learned High Valyrian when she was in high school and while she isn't fluent, she is conversational. In fact, it can be argued that High Valyrian was Visaera's first language. Her mother spoke it to her exclusively when they were at home and she has been told that her first word was Muaher father was a little disappointed it wasn't "Dada" or anything related, but still proud. Once she started speaking, her parents hired a private language instructor to help her differentiate between High Valyrian and English. It was adorable at home, but her parents would rather she didn't mix the two languages in one sentence once she started school. At home, it isn't uncommon to find Visaera and her mother speaking exclusively in High Valyrian whenever her father isn't home. ; ( FACT OO5 ) tab Visaera has a very close relationship with her parents. Not exactly that she tells them about every aspect of her life, but there is a trust between her and them that does not exist among her friends and their parents. She idolizes her mother and it can be argued that their relationship surpasses just mother-daughter. Visaera is not afraid to say that her mother is one of her best friends. For as long as she can even remember, they have shared such a deep connection to one another; especially her mother. She can somehow pick up on whatever Visaera is feeling, if she needed to put in the effort to channel it. It is a running theory that this close relationship started because Visaera was born prematurely AND her mother had been struggling to conceive for years. For years, she was told how her mother stayed at her side in NICU for weeks until she was fit to leave the hospital and then took time off from running her studio to take care of her even though her in-laws recommended hiring a nanny. Her mother couldn't do it, not after struggling to have a baby for years and then almost losing the one that made it. As for her father, well, even if her mother is one of her best friends, she is without a doubt Daddy's Little Girl. He unapologetically spoiled her rotten when she was a kid, but also made sure that it didn't get too into her head growing up. She looks up to her father and is never afraid to seek out his guidance. And even though he can be very busy with work, he still finds time to spend with her whenever he gets the opportunity to get away from the office. ; ( FACT OO6 ) tab Despite her close relationship with her parents, Visaera is not immune to the high expectations that come with being a Celtigar. For as long as she can remember, she has never not been busy. As soon as she was mobile, she was taken on play dates with the children from other families closely associated with hers. In fact, a lot of her friends now are those she has been with since they were babies. When she was a toddler, her parents enrolled her in various classes. Her mother, naturally, placed her in different dance classes to see if any of them would stick. She stayed in ballet and contemporary dance until middle school. She also participated in sports starting in elementary school. It wasn't competitive, but it gave her something to do after school. She enjoyed soccer for a while, but then her father took her to her first horseback riding lesson and she never looked back. She competed for years until her junior year of high school. Of all of the private lessons she took her whole life, what stuck the most until this very day was music. Like most children of her station, she started with piano. From there, once her music instructor picked up on her talent, she expanded to guitar (but this is mostly for fun) and took up singing lessons. She still competes and participates in piano recitals. But recently she has considered stepping away from recitals to focus on songwriting. It's a lowkey passion of hers, but she is not confident enough to share any songs she's attempted writing. Now, despite all of these activities keeping her occupied for nearly her entire life, what matters most to her family meaning her extended Celtigar family are her school activities. She has been active in her high school's Key Club since her freshman year and will be taking the VP position her senior year. Other clubs and activities she is involved in at school include: NHS, Best Buddies, and a couple other volunteer-based clubs. There are a small handful of special interest clubs that she is active in on and off depending on her schedule. ; ( FACT OO7 ) tab The thing you need to know about the Celtgars is that they very much still believe in arranged marriages. Of course, with the "changing of the times" they have to be clever about it. They are a little more lenient, but that is putting it lightly. There are some occasions when it is very obvious that a marriage in the Celtigar family is arranged (i.e. when it pertains to the heir to the family business and legacy). But for the rest of the time, the family goes around the obvious definition of arranged marriages. Instead, they call it "childhood friendships." Visaera is in that category. While her parents were lucky to be a love matchit helps that her mother did come from a "good family"Visaera was one of the many grandchildren to be strategically paired with one of the children of the various families in connection with the Celtigars. It all started when her father received his promotion to overlook the business in the west coast. The Tyrells accumulated much of their wealth from their grocery store chain all across the west coast region. They also own many acres of farmland and vineyards. And it just so happens that Visaera's father and the heir to the Tyrell family business were friends and classmates at Yale. But that is not the connection the Celtigars are invested in. It is the one between Visaera and the CEO's son, Deric. She met Deric when she was five years old, he was seven. For the most part, Visaera can't remember her life without Deric in it. Between weekly play dates until they started middle school and being enrolled in the same schools since she finished kindergarten, it was hard to look at Visaera and not think about Deric. Visaera does consider Deric a close friend. She always has fun when with him and he has helped her survive many years of school with his extra two years of knowledge. It was around her sophomore year and his senior year that they started to acknowledge that after all these years, they might actually have feelings for each other. However, it was also one of those bad timing situations. Deric was under a lot of pressure to get into Yale. While, yes, his own academic record was enough merit to get him in, it wasn't going to be enough until he received that acceptance letter. So they never tried dating. To the school, they viewed Visaera and Deric's relationship that year as "casual." It was obvious they liked each other, but school just came first. It wasn't until the summer after Deric graduated that they finally put some definition to their relationship. They both agreed that long distance wasn't going to work. Visaera was going into the toughest years of high school and Deric was starting his college career in Yale. So they continued to keep things casual, but they also made a promise to each other. Once Visaera finished high schooland hopefully also got into Yalethey would make their relationship official. For the Celtigars, that was essentially a shoe-in for an engagement. ; ( FACT OO8 ) tab Maybe this has everything to do with the fact that she is a Celtigar, but Visaera loves seafood. She will proudly and unapologetically eat at her family's restaurant, the closest location of which is in San Francisco, and sing its praises every time. She also has a constantly insatiable craving for sushi. It is one of those cravings that once someone asks her if she wants it, she will always say yes with a quickness. ; ( FACT OO9 ) tab Her preferred choice of transportation is her bike, but this is mostly because she tries to stay as local as possible. If she needs to go any further than Berkeley, she will either take Bart, pay for an Uber or get a ride from someone she knows. Unfortunately, she cannot drive. This has everything to do with her height, or lack thereof to be more precise. Her inability to easily see over the wheel has been the cause of much anxiety for Visaera. So while she does possess a permit, she has yet to pluck up the courage to take the test to get her license. So for the time being, she gets around the neighborhood pretty well on her bike or she gets rides from her friends or her parents. #THATPPPLIFE ; ( FACT O1O ) tab It has been engrained in her mind since she was a baby that Yale was her top long-term goal. Many photo albums show Visaera surrounded by the Yale colors, whether it's a baby onesie or the blue flag that has been hanging over her bed since she was still sleeping in a crib. It's pretty obvious where this goal arose from. As his alma mater, her father dreamed for her to follow in his footsteps. Every year since she first learned how to read, they would take trips to Connecticut to visit the campus the week before she started the new school year. She's gone to plenty of homecoming games with her father, his school friends and their kids. To her and her father, everything she does up until her high school diploma is placed in her hand is for Yale. Not even an acceptance letter will satisfy her father. To him, their goal for Yale is fulfilled once she has stepped foot on the campus as an official student. But see, here's the thing: At some point during her high school career, Visaera has lost sight of that goal. While she still believes Yale is an amazing school, she's started to recognize that it isn't the right fit for her. She no longer "sees" herself walking across campus every day to get from one class to another. There is no more excitement even talking about Yale. In fact, the only excitement she feels is whatever she picks up from her father. Unfortunately, it is that very reason she has yet to tell him that Yale is no longer a long-term goal of hers. For now, she intends to still apply, but will also exert the same amount of energy into applying to other universities. She has yet to find the actual school that best fits her, but she hopes it will present itself once it's application time. ; ( FACT O11 ) tab She has a unique interest in flying. Anytime she travels and it requires flying to the destination, she will always aim for a window seat and that window will stay open the entire flight (so long as she is allowed to). There is something so majestic about being able to see the world from the skies that has always intrigued her and it always takes her breath away. This only worsened when she and her childhood friends went paragliding once during summer vacation. She was addicted to the sensation of being in the air. It is now one of her dreams to go paragliding once again (maybe even hang gliding) AND to try skydiving. ; ( FACT O12 ) tab A lot of people in Visaera's life, even her own family, have made comment on her busy schedule. Some have voiced concerns that between her classes (both at her school and the college courses she can take at the community college) and her extracurriculars she is well on her way to burning out before college. But the truth is, despite the sheer exhaustion she may feel sometimes, Visaera leans heavily on her busy schedule. She uses her busy schedule as a defense mechanism. She dislikes being idle with very little to nothing to do. For, you see, the moments when it is quiet for Visaera is when the intrusive thoughts invade. This is the one thing she insists on keeping secret from her parents and her friends. It's hard to say when exactly she started struggling with these dark thoughts, but when she first acknowledged that they were there, it hit her like a truck and for a few days she was unable to do anything outside her bedroom. After that day, she learned that keeping herself busy pushes away any chance of these thoughts getting any kind of strength. But the few times that they do slip through her mind, instant guilt pours through her. After all, what reason does she have to feel these things when her entire life has been so fortunate? So to combat the impending destruction, she works herself to almost complete exhaustion so that she could go to bed and sleep immediately. ; ( FACT O13 ) tab Visaera has an immaculate way with words. Throughout high school, many on the debate team have grieved that she has little time to commit to joining. She isn't entirely argumentative, unless she has to be for a class assignment, but Visaera has this way of picking up on details from other people to help hook them in to whatever she has to say. Some say she is empathetic, but she disagrees. It is more so the ability to pick up on nonverbal cues. Once she has that, she maneuvers her arguments or pitches to best attract her listener. ; ( FACT O14 ) tab As much as the Celtigars like to play it off to the public that they are a close knit family, Visaera is not close to any of her relatives. Every year they travel to Baltimore, conversations with cousins are typically bragging contests. One cousin will brag about getting into this Ivy League. Another will talk for ages about a prestigious internship they snagged. Another will go into great lengths about the journey they took to win some award. And it doesn't stop with the cousins. She has often overheard her parents get into near sparring matches with uncles and aunts over which child is the most successful. And with her father being one of the youngest siblings, he dives in fiercely to brag about all of her accomplishments. Now that she is older, taking trips back to Baltimore has become more a chore for her than a pleasure. ; ( FACT O15 ) tab Whenever she can find any kind of spare time, Visaera enjoys checking out thrift stores and used bookstores. And she will always come out with something. She is a little embarrassed of how full her closet is with clothes she has yet to wear and bookshelves full of books she has yet to read. More often than not, she will end up donating some of the clothes she's bought at thrift stores without even having worn them. But she still finds herself going to them and always coming out with something that caught her attention. But she can find herself browsing for hours if she didn't have to keep track of time. ; ( FACT O16 ) tab For much of Visaera's high school career, she has been dubbed the "princess" of the school solely for her volunteer efforts and overall academic record. While she may not necessarily be in the running for valedictorian, she is more known for offering to schedule study sessions for classmates that might need a little extra help on homework. Then there is her many hours of volunteer work between multiple clubs. Every year Visaera is acknowledged for her involvement in the community through her volunteer work. In the beginning, calling Visaera "princess" was a playful tease among her friends. However, it very quickly spread and stuck. Visaera for her part doesn't mind the title, but she also doesn't encourage it. She just simply smiles and lets people have their fun. ; ( FACT O17 ) tab After volunteering for a semester at a senior living facility in her junior year, Visaera picked up on what her friends affectionately call "old lady hobbies." In other words, she got really into crafting; more specifically crochet. Now, keep in mind that this is still a fairly new hobby so she is nowhere near great at it. In fact, her need to perfect her lines is the reason she makes weekly visits to the senior living facility because she befriended a couple of the ladies who helped her develop this hobby. She doesn't crochet all the time, but occasionally you can find her in class with a hook and some brightly colored yarn in her hands. Oh, and don't get her started on her yarn collection. Yeah, it is basically a collection. Despite it taking long to complete projects, Visaera has a bad habit of coming out of craft stores with more yarn than she can get through. So now her room has baskets full of yarn for any new projects she has in mind.

* ( CURRENTLY PLAYING ) xx ; ( OO1 ) tab title track - machine gun kelly ; ( OO2 ) tab daywalker! - machine gun kelly ft. corpse ; ( OO3 ) tab fleabag - yungblud ; ( OO4 ) tab all i know - machine gun kelly ft. trippie redd ; ( OO5 ) tab light switch - youth fountain ; ( OO6 ) tab love or chemistry - nothing,nowhere. ; ( OO7 ) tab bad habits - nerv ; ( OO8 ) tab more than life - machine gun kelly ft. glaive ; ( OO9 ) tab bloody valentine - machine gun kelly ; ( O1O ) tab twin flame - machine gun kelly tabtabYOU`RE TOO GOOD FOR ME tab I`M TOO BAD TO KEEP tab I WANT YOU ONLY VIRYS TARGARYEN tabtab YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVE ME BUT MY TRAUMA DOESNT TRUST THAT * ( THE BASICS ) x x ; ( NAME ) tab virys targaryen ; ( NICKNAME ) tab his sister has long called him vi, but otherwise virys doesnt have any loving nicknames. only derogatory ones or titles that come and go with each new rumor that circulates about him. ; ( AGE ) tab eighteen ; ( BIRTHDATE ) tab june thirteenth ; ( HEIGHT ) tab six foot four ; ( EYE & HAIR COLOR ) tab steel bluetab platinum ; ( SEXUALITY ) tab asexualdemisexual ; ( BIRTH PLACE ) tab miami, florida ; ( PROFESSION ) tab student on the verge of dropping outaspiring musician * ( MY ATTITUDE ) x x DEVOTED X x ) x very loving or loyal. PROTECTIVE X x ) x having or showing a strong wish to keep someone or something safe from harm. RESILIENT X x ) x (of a person or animal) able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions. TALENTED X x ) x having a natural aptitude or skill for something. COMPETITIVE X x ) x having or displaying a strong desire to be more successful than others. COMPULSIVE X x ) x resulting from or relating to an irresistible urge, especially one that is against one's conscious wishes. INTENSE X x ) x having or showing strong feelings or opinions; extremely earnest or serious. CYNICAL X x ) x believing that people are motivated by self-interest; distrustful of human sincerity or integrity. DANGEROUS X x ) x able or likely to cause harm or injury. DISCONNECTED X x ) x (of a person) lacking contact with reality. OBSTINATE X x stubbornly refusing to change one's opinion or chosen course of action, despite attempts to persuade one to do so. UNSTABLE X prone to psychiatric problems or sudden changes of mood. UNTRUSTING X tending to believe in other people's honesty or sincerity; suspicious. * ( ALL ABOUT ME ) x ; ( FACT OO1 ) tab virys does not believe in love. In any capacity of the word: romantic relationships, sexual relationships, even familial relationships. The word love means nothing to him. He believes it's more along the lines of a fake courtesy. But this is due to having never experienced it himself. His own mother wanted nothing to do with him. His father claimed to love him yet dumped him on the doorstep of his first marriage; clearly love isnt real if his father started a second family that didn't turn out to be much better than his first. His stepmother has never cared for him and his half siblings have turned home into hell for him. Girls at school have only ever wanted him for sex, status or money. Boys too. Virys has never felt love and so clearly it doesn't actually exist. Love is the biggest conspiracy theory of the entire world. ; ( FACT OO2 ) tab In addition to his strong reservation against emotional love, virys has trouble with sexual intimacy. That is to say, most things that turn on other boys his age don't work on him. And they never have. Believing that something was wrong with him, virys projected this sexual persona for several years until it became a large portion of his identity. He became obsessed with sex, wanting desperately to figure out why he was different and thinking that he could fix himself. That maybe if he could be normal, the rest of the broken pieces of his life might come back together. Presently he's fallen so far down the rabbit hole that it's out of his control. He's slept with enough people (cis girls mostly but not exclusively), to have earned him a manwhore reputation. Yet at the same time his dissatisfied sex life has kept his standards high enough that he's far from easy. He won't sleep with just anyone, in fact these days he's mostly only sexually active with his friend and drug dealer, Madison Harper. ; ( FACT OO3 ) Drugs have always been a part of Virys's life. He was born to a rockstar father, passed along to an ex-groupie stepmother, and then raised among siblings several years older than him. He was exposed to the good, the bad, and desensitized to the ugly earlier than most. And so it was only natural for him to pick up his own habits. Virys has tried his share of party drugs and alcohol, most of it due to peer pressure from his older half brothers. And he was actually introduced to MadisonMadi through them. But Virys generally isn't one for hard drugs; he prefers to just smoke. It helps ease his anxiety and relax in a world that has been out to get him since he was born. ; ( FACT OO4 ) As you have probably guessed, following the stereotype, school is not Virys's strong suit. It's not that he's dumb, far from it actually. But he simply doesn't care enough and his grades suffer for it. He is actually quite clever and quick to pick up on things, but skipping class to get high and blatantly not doing the work has left a large discrepancy between him and his classmates. As such, he's been balancing on the verge of failing out of school and his academic future is bleak. ; ( FACT OO5 ) Luckily for him, his interest in music, combined with his father's fame, doesn't require a degree for success. Though it wouldn't hurt to help combat the rumors and bad rap he's accumulated over the years. Virys has long been in a back-and-forth battle with himself over whether or not he truly wants to pursue music. It's something he genuinely enjoys, and has the natural talent for. But at times he feels as though he is stuck in his father's shadow and that his own demons will forever hold him back. There's nothing quite as discouraging as being compared to another and told you're not good enough solely on someone's first impression of you. And that has happened so many times to Virys, and it's been steadily eating away at his self-esteem and drive, leaving him unmotivated and depressed in regards to the one thing in life he truly enjoys. ; (FACT OO6) Another less known talent of his is his knowledge of High Valyrian. While not fluent, it is technically his first language and he's at least conversational in it. He doesn't know the grammatical terms for things (prepositions and adverbs?), has a hard time formulating sentences, and is much better at understanding others than speaking it himself. But he thought it would be an easy A to take the class upon seeing it was offered in his high school, however learning it properly in a school setting had proved to be much more difficult than his experience of using it at home. ; (FACT OO7) Another difficulty he's had is with therapy. He's had a few different diagnosis over the years, with various forms of treatment recommended ranging from simple counseling to complicated regimens. However Virys has never stuck through anything long enough to reap any benefits or see any improvements. Instead he self-medicates and everyone else in his life gets to experience the ups and downs alongside him. ; ( FACT OO8 ) Tab the instability isnt a new thing though, its been a constant in his life even before he was born. During an early ultrasound it was revealed that he was to be a twin, but by the next appointment his other half was gone. A phenomenon known as vanishing twin syndrome; and with it went his health. He had been sharing a placenta with his twin and after they were absorbed his tiny body suffered while his mother's body recovered and adjusted. He became a high-risk pregnancy from that point on and his mother was advised against traveling and to be extra careful so as not to lose her remaining child as well. However, his mother's indifference towards him had already begun. She was scared that she was losing herself and her own life as now all anyone talked to her about was her baby. As such, she rebelled against the doctors orders and did as she pleased, and it was due to her recklessness that Virys ended up being born in Florida of all places. His parents were there for an event when his mother went into labor. Despite being so small, Virys birth was a long and complicated one in part to his already poor health, and it was also for that reason that the family ended up staying in Florida with his mother's sister for close to two months until he was finally cleared from the NICU. He struggled as an infant and that touch-and-go was likely a main contributing factor to why his mother rejected him in the end. Rather than going full maternal over her sick baby, she went the complete opposite direction and if anything she was scared of him. Scared of how fragile he was. Scared she would mess things up. Scared she would be a bad mother, and then combined with the fact that she never actually wanted this in the first place. But Virys was blind to her aversion until he turned ten years old when she finally cracked, feeling like she had lost the past ten years of her life to being a mother despite how little she had actually been involved in his upbringing. The solution ended up being to send Little Virys up north to live with his father's first family in Berkeley, who Virys had never met and knew next to nothing about. ; ( FACT OO9 ) Tab Virys flew as an unaccompanied minor at ten years old, leaving his family behind to go live with complete strangers who wanted almost as little to do with him as his own mother. He went from being an only child to being the youngest of six and the age gaps only made the transition even more difficult. And while two of his siblings ultimately warmed up to him, it wasn't enough to offset the abuse he suffered through at the hands of the other three and his new guardian: his stepmother. Living in Berkeley has been arguably worse for Virys than Los Angeles was and his steady downward spiral is there to show for it. His two eldest brothers are the ones who have been the most dangerous, which, considering their large age gap definitely turns it from sibling quarrels to full on abuse. There is no reason for a nearly twenty-year-old adult to be smacking around a ten-year-old child as a means of stress relief and entertainment. His two half sisters were second oldest, both just a year apart from one another. But the close proximity of their ages did little to strengthen their own bond. One sister sided more so with their brothers, while the other took Virys under her wing as best she could. He hasn't always been receptive to her kindness, but she remains a constant support - the closest to a mother figure he's ever had. His last brother is the closest in age to him and has arguably made the most efforts as far as bonding with Virys. It's not quite a two-way street between them, his brother definitely tries harder and cares more than Virys. But of all his siblings, he is the one Virys gets along with the most. ; ( FACT O1O ) Tab You would think that with such large age gaps that Virys would no longer be tormented by his siblings because surely by now everyone has moved out. But no, only his sisters have left the family home. One married and the other left during college and never came back. Leaving Virys with all three of his brothers as well as their mother. His oldest brother owns his own company and makes bank but has spent his whole life taking advantage of everything their father pays for in exchange for Virys living under their roof. So he has opted to save every penny he makes and lives comfortably working from home. The second oldest stayed out of spite. If Virys gets to live luxuriously then so should I. He's been wildly unsuccessful at securing his own identity and has jumped careers several times already. He's obsessed with Virys in his own way, blaming the baby of the family for all his own failures. And then his third brother currently attends UC Berkeley. He had originally moved out for the college experience, but he moved back home after Virys had been subjected to the worst year of abuse yet. And that is how Virys lives with four grown adults and most everything is paid for by his father. ; ( FACT O11 ) tab while Virys's relationship with his birth mother would be classified as strained at best, his on-and-off relationship with his father has been a toxic tortuous tease his entire life. Virys has spent years fighting for his mother's affection and then being disappointed every single time. While in contrast, his father has openly made efforts to show his love, and it is instead Virys who has trouble accepting it. Living in near opposite ends of California has made it difficult to visit over the years, but his father has done his best while balancing his wife and rockstar career. Unfortunately for him though, Virys' needs and expectations have always been higher than he is capable of meeting. As such, Virys feels conflicted about his father - he hates him for all that's happened to him, but his father has also been the one to treat him the best and they were close when he was a kid. The contradicting emotions leave Virys in this constant state of pick-a-door. Behind door number one is more emotional baggage to carry. But behind door number two is the chance of a nice memory that Virys will cherish until eventually it gets torn to shreds the next time the first door opens instead. Like the time he flew down to visit his parents, and his father ended up turning the return trip into a father-son drive from LA to the Bay. They drove his vintage 1967 Ford Mustang fastback up from LA together and his father then gifted it to him for his upcoming sixteenth birthday when they reached Berkeley. Then just a few days later one of his brothers assaulted him, likely jealous of Virys' better relationship with their father, and Virys spent the evening of his birthday in urgent care. But rather than retaliating against his brother, Virys passed the blame to his father for having returned him back to this living hell in the first place, thus shattering the good memories of their road trip and breaking their fragile relationship yet again. ; ( FACT O12 ) Tab Virys is quite literally the epitome of the phrase lonely in a crowded room. He's been surrounded by people his entire life, whether with his large extended family or due to his popularity throughout his years at school. But Virys has struggled all his life to bond with anyone. At home he's extremely isolated and unloved. And then at school, while he might not be everyone's favorite, he's still well known and socialized. But no one at school really knows him, neither does anyone at home. Not truly anyways. Virys closest connection to anyone would be the one he has with his pet, a female bearded dragon he named Toothless. And while Toothless might not be as affectionate or personable as a dog or cat might be, she has still served the same purpose of easing his loneliness and giving him something to live for. Not that his entire life is held in the palm of her scaly foot, but having someone depending on him has given him a sense of importance in a world that had otherwise told him he's worthless. ; ( FACT O13 ) tab it should come as no surprise to hear that virys reputation includes violence, with a fine gray line between fact and fiction. The truth is that yes, virys has violent tendencies. And yes, there is also likely some truth behind any stories one might hear. But he is also a victim of exaggerationthat people blow things out of proportion and make assumptions when they don't know all the details. A truth behind his violent nature though is that he is so numb to the physical pain that he's unable to recognize his own body's limitations. Virys is so damaged at this point, emotionally, physically, or too intoxicated, that his pain tolerance is through the roof, and it actually puts him in a dangerous position. For instance being unable to distinguish the severity of an injury when he's hurt. Or not feeling any pain in his own hand when punching somethingor someoneand so it's too easy to just get tunnel vision and keep going, and going, and going. Yes, he's beaten someone unconscious before. And yes, his own hand was bruised for over a week afterwards. ; ( FACT O14 ) tab unfortunately that numbness isn't exclusive to physical pain. When his hurt and temper merge into one, Virys reaches a point where he loses any sense of self-worth or rational thinkinghis self-preservation drops below zero. It's when he's in this dangerous state of mind that it's probably best to steer clear, but it's also when he's the biggest danger to himself. Virys doesn't exactly have a history of self-harm, not intentionally at least. But when he reaches this point, his brain short circuits and he's unable to process cause and effect. He would boldly cross a busy intersection, walking as though expecting everyone to slam on the breaks for him. Squeeze or smash whatever is in his hand without regard to the possibility that it could break and hurt him. And ever since getting his own car, he has adopted a particularly dangerous habit of going alone for a drive. Of going too fast and taking risks that could easily end his life if he so much as blinked at the wrong moment. He'll drive until the adrenaline passes, until he comes down from the high and is able to feel things again. ; ( FACT O15 ) tab His pain tolerance does come in handy though when it comes to his most obvious form of self-expression: tattoos. He got his first tattoo at fourteen years old and it's been an addiction of his ever since. Most of them he got illegally, that is to say that there was no parental consent given nor were they done in a proper shop. The perks of having always hung out with an older crowd on account of his siblings and of having a famous musician for a father. ; ( FACT O16 ) Tab hes not superstitious, but Virys is definitely a little bit-stitous. He reads into things and connects dots whether they're related or not. His delusions turn nothing into something. It can be very difficult to reason with him if he's mentally already accepted something as truth. Virys would be the one to take it personally when something out of anyone's control troubles him. To take it personally and then blame the other for it. Had to cancel because you got a flat tire? In Virys broken mind, if you really cared, you would have found a way to get to him. Or on the flip side, finding the tiniest of connections and viewing it as a sign that it was meant to be. Like if you were to like the same music as him, it could easily lead Virys into believing that you have an understanding of him, because clearly if you like the same music then you must feel similarly to him. Virys really maxes out the phrase "point of view." These delusions aren't a constant. They come and go, and there's no telling when one will trigger, but they make it near impossible for him to maintain healthy relationships with other human beings when his mind sets these unrealistic expectations and creates false meanings behind others words and actions. ; ( FACT O17 ) It's pretty safe to say that Virys generally doesn't even try to make friends. Not anymore at least. He was fairly social for most of his life, but the past couple years he has definitely closed himself off more and more. Not that he's been shunning the friends and connections he's already made, but Virys isn't interested in making new ones. Besides having to deal with his own demons, juggling his princely fame has taken a lot out of him. It was nice in the beginning, in fact Virys used to love the attention he got at school in contrast to how hated he was at home. But the novelty has since worn off considerably. He's found it exhausting having to balance the four sides that make up his life. As if it's not hard enough being himself, having to also be the most hated, the most loved and the most unwanted all at once has taken a huge toll on him. And a large part of it all links back to his father being a king of rock. At school he is often put on a pedestal and fawned over. While at home he's only tolerated because of the cash flow his existence comes with. And then there are his scattered interactions with the media who love to compare him to his father and turn his mistakes into headlines. Luckily it doesn't happen too often, living in Berkeley has removed much of the pressure that comes with being born into music royalty. But he's seen the articles written about him. The posts on social media. Everything just further confirms that he wants nothing to do with people, and if he can't change their wrong opinions of him then he'll just give them what they want - he'll be the black sheep they say he is: the child born with horns. ; ( FACT O18 ) It's not uncommon for Virys to go off on his own in attempt to get away from all the chaos that is his life. You'll usually find him high. Not just on weed, but literally as high up as he can get. His favorite spots to be alone are on rooftops, climbing the campanile, or to sit in his car along Grizzly Peak. There's something calming and cathartic about being able to see such a large scope of the world - to escape from whatever claustrophobic bubble he's been forced into and escape from all the rules, expectations and oppression that come with his life. ; ( FACT O19 ) And in case you were wondering, yes, the Malfoy blonde hair is all natural. Thank you pure Valyrian bloodlines. He rarely cuts it, preferring it shaggy and borderline touching his shoulders. And so the times he has been convinced to trim it were either by force when he was younger or during a mental breakdown. He has been convinced to trim it on occasion after it reaches his shoulders, most commonly at the hands of his older sister, but Virys otherwise leaves it messy, blonde and long.</s>

In the lobby, Kyra was filling out paperwork in the room when she noticed that the forms for volunteers and those able to fill them out were asking some personal questions about them. Of course this was part of the procedure to apply for the job or cure those with diseases or illnesses they had. If they were in critical condition and couldn't write for themselves, then a parent or guardian would sign the papers for them to the best of their knowledge. Though as strange as the questions were, some were professional while others asked in a more detailed and personal level, asking what they did during their life, what hobbies they had, what sort of secrets they hid from others, and many other types of personal questions. After filling out her paperwork, Kyra got up and walked over to the desk handing the paper back to the receptionist who told her to go ahead and have a seat and that they would call for her when it was her time. Upon returning to her seat, she noticed a girl being wheeled into the building on a stretcher as she seemed like she was in critical condition and very weak. The mother of the girl followed them as far as she could before the doctor at the door asked the mother what the girl's name was. Kyra heard the mother say "Kiki," then handed the mother the same kind of paper for her to fill out. Kyra sat down and waited for her turn, which came soon after. A doctor called Kyra over, and she stood up and headed to the doctor who led her into the back. The doctor told her to lie down on the stretcher and to relax. As Kyra did as the doctor asked, the doctor placed a mask over her mouth and told her that she would need to be knocked out to perform the surgery. Gas was released into the mask, causing her to pass out, but before she could, she glanced over and noticed another girl nearby who was already knocked and awaiting her time for treatment. In the back of the building within the Artificial Genetic Labs doctors were looking over several types of Artificial Humans who were in tubes filled with liquid as they were asleep, upon check ups the names Mama, Papa, and Five could be seen as they were being developed and were almost done. Checking the data they would notice that the three in the tubes would be ready for release in about a week, as they continue to monitor the girls as they develop. One Week Later Kiki Biohazard's & Five T-Doll's Room Kiki soon woke up as she glanced around the room she was in. She sat up and noticed her body was different: Mechanical parts replaced her legs, which had gyroid gravity lifts within them; she wore a green outfit that covered most of her front but little of her sides and back, with arm sleeves separated from the rest of it; on her back were two large tubs filled with strange liquid, connected by a tube floating above her head, and two antenna-like tubes coming out of it; and wings and a tail with glowing spikes on it matched the color of the liquid running through each of them. As she was about to stand up, Kiki noticed a letter on the bedside table next to her. She picked it up and read: 'Dear Kiki, Welcome to the Galactic Incorporation, your surgery was successful and your illness has been cured, your parents brought you here to cure you as an emergency. Upon their request for you to be cured, you will now be working for us as is apart of our policy in order to cure those that cannot be cured by normal hospitals. In doing this we had to alter your body in order to cure your illness, modifying parts of your body, you may have noticed there are two large tubes on your back filled with liquid, be sure not to damage those tubes as those are now your life support, the liquid in them in a sense is now your blood supply as your entire blood system has been replaced with this liquid, if and when the liquid starts to get low, you will need to head to the Labs to refill the tubes. In order for you to recover after your surgery, we had you rest in your new room for a week, so that you would be fully recovered and ready for your training, when your training begins you will be taught how to use your powers and abilities if you have any, how to use your weapons if you have any, and test your movements in several different fields and situations. Before you begin your training, we thought it would be best for you to know that your last name is no longer Asuna, since you now work for us, your last name as been replaced with your new Family Name: Biohazard, this Family name will represent the type of family you fall under within Galactic Incorporation. When introduced, please refer to yourself as Kiki Biohazard, and you also have an Agent name as well, when called you will either be called by your name or your agent name, your agent name is: Agent Vermin. Once again welcome to Galactic Incorporation, your Faction is the Galactic Battle Girls which is what you will be referred to when on the field. Your training will begin shortly once we have everything sorted and ready for your training and tests, any weapons you have will be waiting for you in the training room, until you are use to your new weapons, you will have to leave them in the training room. One last thing, you will be roomed with an Artificial Human named Five T-Doll from the Galactic War Girls Faction. From now on she will be your roommate, so please try to get along with her, if either of you have troubles or have a problem with each other and want a room change, you will need to report it at the Head Office, but no guarantee that they will allow you to change rooms, so be aware of that.' Kiki then puts the paper down as she glances around once more as she notices the girl who was in the bed next to her as she blinks a bit and then stands up to try and see if she could get use to her new legs and possibly make it over to the mirror to see what she looks like. As soon as she stood up her gravity legs kicked on, which caused her to stumble and wobble around a bit as she waved her arms around in order to catch her balance as she says, "That was close... It's going to take a bit to get use to these new legs..." She stares at her legs as she notices the points were floating about an inch off the ground as she says, "Are these gravity legs? No wonder I lost my balance... They must have kicked on when I went to stand up, and must be a way to help keep my balance and stabilize me as I move around, but it will be difficult to get use to..." She then looks towards the mirror and then towards the ground as she pushes her leg towards the ground and pushes off the ground to move herself forward as she floats and flies a little, or more like glides across the ground as she struggles to keep her balance and seems to glide across the room almost like some kind of cartoon scene. Eventually she makes her way to the Mirror as she finally gets to see what she looks like as she looks herself over and notices her hair had changed color from a blonde color to a dark green color and wonders if her surgery and body alteration had anything to do with it. She then notices the tubes on her back with the liquid and then wonders if the liquid was the cause as she looks herself over once more she smiles a little and says, "I don't look half bad." Once Five woke up, she would find a similar letter next to her, but a little different than Kiki's as it would read, 'Dear Five, Welcome to the Galactic Incorporation, your incubation was successful and in order for you to recover after your incubation, we had you rest in your new room for a week, so that you would be fully recovered and ready for your training. When your training begins, you will be taught how to use your powers and abilities if you have any, how to use your weapons if you have any, and test your movements in several different fields and situations. Before you begin your training, we thought it would be best for you to know that your Family Name is T-Doll, this Family name will represent the type of family you fall under within Galactic Incorporation. When introduced, please refer to yourself as Five T-Doll, and you also have an Agent name as well, when called you will either be called by your name or your agent name, your agent name is: Agent T-5000 and your Class is Sniper Rifle this represents the Type of Artificial Human you are within your Faction. Once again welcome to your home Galactic Incorporation, your Faction is the Galactic War Girls which is what you will be referred to when on the field. Your training will begin shortly once we have everything sorted and ready for your training and tests, any weapons you have will be waiting for you in the training room, until you are use to your new weapons, you will have to leave them in the training room. One last thing, you will be roomed with a Cyborg named Kiki Biohazard from the Galactic Battle Girls Faction. From now on she will be your roommate, so please try to get along with her, if either of you have troubles or have a problem with each other and want a room change, you will need to report it at the Head Office, but no guarantee that they will allow you to change rooms, so be aware of that.' Kyra Companion's Room Kyra woke up with a stretch and a long yawn as she glances around and notices she was wearing an interesting black, white, blue stripped dress with what looks like speakers attached to it, she then noticed she had four amp jack wires floating around her as the blue ones were attached to the back of her head, while the pink ones were attached to her back. She then stood up and walked over to the mirror and noticed her new appearance as she smiles and says, "I look adorable!" She then notices the headphones with a mic that seemed to be attached to her head along with the mechanical cat ears which were now her new ears. She then notices an amp attached to her back, and that she had tan skin, golden eyes, and Strawberry Blonde long hair. From the mirror she then notices a letter on the table next to her bed as she walks over to it and reads it as it welcomes her and tells her that her surgery was successful and that she didn't need much of a change, and only had a few things attached to her, while also turning her into a form of amp and speaker system, along with her new last name being Companion, her Agent Name being Ruin, along with her being apart of the Galactic Battle Girls Faction, and at the moment she doesn't have a roommate. Papa Tank's Room Papa soon woke up as she glances around the room and notices she was the only one in the room. As she notices a paper next to her, it reads, 'Dear Papa, Welcome to the Galactic Incorporation, your incubation was successful and in order for you to recover after your incubation, we had you rest in your new room for a week, so that you would be fully recovered and ready for your training. When your training begins, you will be taught how to use your powers and abilities if you have any, how to use your weapons if you have any, and test your movements in several different fields and situations. Before you begin your training, we thought it would be best for you to know that your Family Name is Tank, this Family name will represent the type of family you fall under within Galactic Incorporation. When introduced, please refer to yourself as Papa Tank, and you also have an Agent name as well, when called you will either be called by your name or your agent name. Your agent name is: Agent King Tiger, and your Class is Heavy Tank, this represents the type of Artificial Human you are within the Faction. Once again welcome to your home Galactic Incorporation, your Faction is the Galactic War Girls which is what you will be referred to when on the field. Your training will begin shortly once we have everything sorted and ready for your training and tests, any weapons you have will be waiting for you in the training room, until you are use to your new weapons. One last thing, you may have noticed you are the only one in the room, normally we will room you with one or two other girls, but at the moment we don't have anyone to room with you, so you will be living on your own until we find someone suited to be roomed with you. When you do receive a new roommate, if either of you have troubles or have a problem with each other and want a room change, you will need to report it at the Head Office, but no guarantee that they will allow you to change rooms, so be aware of that.' Papa then gets up as she quickly runs over towards the mirror and smiles brightly as she looks at the person on the other side of the mirror and immediately notices that person was her. She smiled, noticing she practically looked like a normal human, with tan skin, red eyes, floor-length pinkish white colored hair, and had a military-like blue hat, blue and brown military uniform, short brown shorts, and knee-high blue, brown, and red colored boots on. She then glances over towards the empty bed, remembering she doesn't have a roommate yet. Papa then decides to explore her room and notices the door, but once she walked up to the door, she would notice that it had no handles or anything to open the door manually, which meant it was an automatic door, but it didn't seem to open up, which meant they were not allowed to leave the room until a higher-up came to get them, as a precaution to keep them from wandering around the building without someone to guide them around on their first day. Iris Mutation's, Tomi Princess's, and Mama T-Doll's Room. Iris quickly sits up when she woke up, glancing around to see that she was not in the same place she had been before she was knocked out by the gas. Then she glances around the room once more, noticing the paper in her hand. She reads it, realizing her last name has changed to Mutation, her Agent name is Evolution, and she's known as a Galactic Battle Girl, along with her new roommates names being Tomi Princess, another Galactic Battle Girl, and an Artificial Human named Mama T-Doll. After reading it, she stares at it for a few moments before shoving it into her mouth and eating it. While eating the paper, she realizes she has pretty sharp teeth. She then looks over towards the two girls in the bed next to her, almost like she was contemplating whether or not she should bite them. After a few moments of awkward staring, she looks away and gets off the bed, walking over to the mirror. Iris is about the size of a teenager, maybe a little shorter. She throws her hands up in excitement as she says in an almost wild child-like voice, "I look adorable!" She takes a bite out of the mirror, shattering the part that she bites and ripping a piece off as she chews on it. The sound of broken glass and wood being chewed on can be heard throughout the room. Mama soon woke up as she glances around the room and notices a girl in the bed next to her as she notices a paper next to her and hears an odd sound in the room of something being chewed on, but decides to read the letter first. 'Dear Mama,' it begins, 'Welcome to the Galactic Incorporation. Your incubation was successful, and in order for you to recover after your incubation, we had you rest in your new room for a week. So that you would be fully recovered and ready for your training. When your training begins, you will be taught how to use your powers and abilities if you have any, how to use your weapons if you have any, and test your movements in several different fields and situations. Before you begin your training, we thought it would be best for you to know that your Family Name is T-Doll. This family name will represent the type of family you fall under within Galactic Incorporation. When introduced, please refer to yourself as Mama T-Doll, and you also have an Agent name as well. When called, you will either be called by your name or your agent name. Your agent name is: Agent TMP, and your Class is Sub-Machine Gun. This represents the type of Artificial Human you are within the Faction. Once again welcome to your home Galactic Incorporation. Your Faction is the Galactic War Girls which is what you will be referred to when on the field. Your training will begin shortly once we have everything sorted and ready for your training and tests. Any weapons you have will be waiting for you in the training room until you are use to your new weapons. One last thing, you will be roomed with an Altered Human named Tomi Princess from the Galactic Battle Girls Faction and a Mutated Human known as Iris Mutation also from the Galactic Battle Girls. From now on they will be your roommate, so please try to get along with them. If either of you have troubles or have a problem with each other and want a room change, you will need to report it at the Head Office, but no guarantee that they will allow you to change rooms, so be aware of that.' Mama puts down the paper as she stands up and walks over to the mirror. She notices a short teenage girl chewing on part of the mirror, surprised by the sight. She looks herself over in the now broken mirror. As she sees herself for the first time, though through a broken mirror, she tilts her head and looks at herself a little closer. She blinks a few times, realizing the person she was seeing in the mirror was herself. She smiles and looks herself over a bit more, doing some poses. The girl chewing on the broken mirror pieces then asks in a monster-like voice, "Why are you making those weird motions?" She could see that she had mechanical cat ears, a cat tail, long blonde hair, green eyes, tan skin, and a black and green colored outfit on her as well. Mama glances down towards the girl who is eating mirror pieces and gives a small frown like smile. She thinks for a moment, analyzing Iris's dialect and the language she is speaking. She says, "I was checking myself out." Iris tilts her head and swallows the broken glass. She says, "Why would you check yourself out?" Mama thinks for a moment, trying to understand why Iris would ask such a question. She then says, "Because this is my first time seeing what I look like." She walks over to the bed and looks the girl over, noticing she has beautiful long red hair, blue eyes, tan skin, black under shirt, white over shirt, very short white shorts, black and red socks, and black boots. Mama is rather close, if Tomi were to wake up she would notice that Mama is practically in her personal space. Once Tomi had woken up and read the letter next to her on the table, she would have a similar letter as the other Galactic Battle Girls but with variations depending on whether she was signed up as a volunteer or through medical treatment and that her surgery was successful. Her Last name would now be Princess, her Agent name would be Succubus, and she was part of the Galactic Battle Girls, along with her roommates being Iris Mutation and Mama T-Doll. 'Dear Tomi, Welcome to the Galactic Incorporation, your surgery was successful and your life has been saved, your wife brought you here to save your life as an emergency, normally we don't take males in, but she was very desperate and the Head Doctor accepted it. Upon their request for you to be saved, you will now be working for us as is apart of our policy in order to save those that cannot be saved by normal hospitals. In doing this we had to alter your body in order to save your life, modifying parts of your body, you may have noticed there are two large wings on your back these were added to accommodate the new DNA you have within your body, and because of your new DNA and the request of your wife, your gender has been altered from male to female. In order for you to recover after your surgery, we had you rest in your new room for a week, so that you would be fully recovered and ready for your training, when your training begins you will be taught how to use your powers and abilities if you have any, how to use your weapons if you have any, and test your movements in several different fields and situations. Before you begin your training, we thought it would be best for you to know that your last name is no longer Smith, since you now work for us, your last name as been replaced with your new Family Name: Princess, this Family name will represent the type of family you fall under within Galactic Incorporation. When introduced, please refer to yourself as Tomi Princess, and you also have an Agent name as well, when called you will either be called by your name or your agent name, your agent name is: Agent Succubus. Once again welcome to Galactic Incorporation, your Faction is the Galactic Battle Girls which is what you will be referred to when on the field. Your training will begin shortly once we have everything sorted and ready for your training and tests, any weapons you have will be waiting for you in the training room, until you are use to your new weapons, you will have to leave them in the training room. One last thing, you will be roomed with an Artificial Human named Mama T-Doll from the Galactic War Girls Faction and Iris Mutation from the Galactic Battle Girls Faction. From now on they will be your roommate, so please try to get along with them, if either of you have troubles or have a problem with each other and want a room change, you will need to report it at the Head Office, but no guarantee that they will allow you to change rooms, so be aware of that.'

Before The statuesque blonde smiling evilly while she filled out the questionnaire with perfectly drawn flowing printed handwriting was lying creatively. She was not filling it out for herself, after all, but for her ex, who broke up with her instead of the diamond ring she very well deserved! Melinda was still Thomas' medical proxy, with his parents living far - and unavailable, as they were on their way flying back to their farm. She was in a hurry, after all it wouldn't be right to wait for the second doctor's differential diagnosis. She had successfully asked the first one for the medical coma, after all. Better get this on and over with, and she would be able to still parade around as his spouse. She even bought herself the diamond ring after she sold all of his collection - making photos of them for this request for conversion, of course. She knew the laws and bureaucracy enough to put Thomas at disadvantage and on the defensive for when he would wake up. With the slight change in the name, the inevitable sex change, and the bad address, the only relative they would be able to find within short notice would be her, and she was ready to play the supportive almost wife. As for Thomas, the name Tomi went on the form, with a heart instead of the dot on the i - leading to an official change of name, and with the laws against discrimination, no one would dead-name him, not on any official document at least. Tomi hopefully wouldn't even recognise herself in the mirror when she woke up, and of course Melinda would get the death certificate of Thomas out from the first doctor later... There were some deeply personal questions next to the ones usually found on job applications. Melinda made sure to write in the things she had documents to, and freely lie in the ones she could get away with later not knowing right. Of course Tomi would have no problems with promiscuity... Of course she was bisexual, and no, there was absolutely nothing she would say no to... Previous job experiences? Melinda made sure to write in the summer job he told her about as a dancer - waltzing with the senior citizens did not have to get on the paper. Tomi also had worked as a security officer - that it was only as a mall cop and for a week was not necessary to put on the paper. Melinda checked it out again, carefully making sure that she did fill in everything, and there was no other lines she could hint about how big of a slut Tomi really was. She knew enough about psychology - she did went to learn what they tried to 'help' her with after all - to drop hints at Tomi being a shy exhibitionist. She really wished there was a part where she could write in some requests or fantasies of Tomi's, or at least choose some dimensions for his new body. After The break of the mirror and then the crunching reached Tomi's hazy mind. It took some time to wake up - even before she was a morning person, and waking up in a new body came with tingling and parts asleep, new or missing that really made her mind dizzy. Of course that it was a new body and not the old one did not get recognised for a time. Tomi could not even recall clearly what happened after she told Melinda what her parents got her to realise - that they were not for each other, after all. Of course in her mind and memories she was still thinking that she was a man, but the Galactic Incorporation did a good job in helping her transition, and the subliminal hypnosis got her subconscious mind ready to accept the new body. And it was female, so it was obviously hers, and referred as such. She did not get any reinforcement about the sex change, but the female body and engrams in her mind was pushing out the not right sense of maleness. Struggling to wake up and move, which Tomi did not really want to, but there was an urge in her that she just had to look for and read the letter when she finally climbed out of unconsciousness. As she read the letter, various emotions warred within her. "My wife? What the fuck!?" She felt her hands trembling if her new body wasn't this advanced, so the most she felt was the continued tingling in her appendages from the stress arousal the letter caused. Even her 'wings' fluttered - and that was a sensation she was even more freaked out by. At the end, when the sounds of grating on the remains of the mirror ceased, all the others could hear from her was whimpering, and a slight whining. But when the other two said something, she looked up, taking in the two other figures. Tomi was just staring like a deer caught in the headlights at them. Galactic girls. Live. Here... in the same room... The adoration and worship - and obviously the crush on them - filled her mind and turned the stressful arousal into something else. Her body heated up, causing her to flush and blush and ... was it arousal she was feeling? "Mama? Iris?" Neither of them looked like the grandmother she had called Mama before... Five Sitting up fluidly and putting her legs on the floor as her hand moved towards the bedside table was almost automatic. She lifted it before her eyes, contemplating the archaic form of communication as it took ages reading it and putting the information to the right places, which elicited no reaction other than her head turning towards the other occupant of the room. "Kiki Biohazard, my roommate, welcome. I am pleased to meet you?" she was sure it was the right thing to say. The long haired redhead teen remained sitting there, dressed or naked as she was before, with her head slightly to one side, staring at the Cyborg. Her eyes were searching for weak points, but she found herself unable to focus on any of them. This was not her target, after all.</s>

It was difficult for him to believe all the drastic changes his life had undergone in the last few months. He had always known he wasn't an ordinary man, but Ichigo Kurosaki had never imagined the extent of his special abilities would reach such lengths. He still wondered, even now, how he had gotten stuck in such a huge mess. Well, actually, it was mess after mess in his life. To the point he missed the first days, those times when the highest threat he could find was an ordinary, simple creature shinigami usually called "hollow". He had never really wanted to know all that much about such beasts at firsts, considering all he needed to know was that he must defeat them at all costs. But, the more he learned about them, the more he started understanding about the fate of the poor, deceased victims, as well as of his own, whole world as well. He'd be willing to return to those simple times, if it wasn't for everything he had gained thanks to that. Especially something he now valued more than anything else in the world. How could he have been that oblivious to it, to begin with? Orihime Inoue, one of his classmates and a gentle and wonderful person who had been his friend for quite some time...it turned out her feelings towards him were far deeper than he'd ever imagined. He had felt like that towards her too. He always had, he only had never noticed it before. Every time he saw her smiling at him like that, every time he heard her kind words...he couldn't help but find himself thinking of such subtle moments whenever he had the time. To the point his feelings became so intense, he had ended up confessing...right after her. It came as quite a surprise someone like her, who was the total opposite of Ichigo's apparently rough demeanor, would feel attracted towards him. But, the moment he learned of that...he simply couldn't let her go anymore. They had been dating ever since then, although it wasn't as if it had been that long since they had confessed to each other. In a sense, it was the same as usual. Only now they were far more sincere about each other's feelings than ever before. As he thought of that, he knocked on the woman's door. Arriving right on time for the promised date, he simply waited for her to open the door for him. He wanted to move in with her too, but it was so soon, everything had moved so quickly, he hadn't even had the time to ask her that. That day though, he intended to do it. Be it to Orihime's own apartment where she still lived alone or anywhere else...he just wanted to spend more time with her. Which is why Ichigo had arranged that date in the first place. Both to see the gorgeous girl he couldn't help but keep missing whenever he wasn't with her and to make a move and get closer to the next step in their relationship. As long as Orihime agreed to it, of course. A similar story went for a certain captain and his lieutenant. The captain of the 10th Squad, the so-called prodigy Toshiro Hitsugaya, had also fallen into a sort of forbidden relationship with his right hand, Rangiku. He wasn't exactly sure whether to call it "forbidden" or not, but he doubted the higher-ups would exactly see such types of dynamics between colleagues with good eyes. Truth be told, it ended up being a distraction more often than not, even while they were on a mission. Still, he was reluctant to let go of her. After everything they had been through, he just felt that woman was the only person he could genuinely trust and lean on. It made him feel weird in a sense, especially whenever he found himself thinking about it (it wasn't as if he'd just state it out loud, of course). Still, he couldn't deny those feelings, no matter how hard he tried. At least that was what the captain in question was thinking after the mission his squad had just had. Things had gotten complicated at some point and both Rangiku and Hitsugaya himself had gotten separated. The two of them ended up fighting alongside, and entirely alone, towards an horde of beastly hollows. If it hadn't been for her, he doubted he'd be able to make it out safely. Despite his feelings, the white-haired male didn't say anything until the entire squad was back at headquarters. Then again, it wasn't as if he'd just admit such things out loud. He just dismissed the rest of the group as per usual and let out a deep sigh, eventually being left alone with the woman in question. Why did things always end up that way, anyways? "You should try to concentrate more on the mission and take things more seriously next time. I won't be able to do anything if I can't even count on my own lieutenant, after all." Uttering quite the opposite words from what he was truly thinking and how he truly felt, Hitsugaya simply let his sword rest against the wall and sat down on the floor. Feeling so tired he couldn't even think of doing anything that wasn't resting for a bit right there and then. He did know he had a report to make but, for once, it could wait a bit until he was fully recovered...right? Besides, both him, Rangiku and his entire squad had surely earned it.

Trying to decide what to wear on a date with the one she had loved for some time now, Orihime Inoue was going through the wardrobe in her room. To her, the fact that she and Ichigo were dating was a dream come true, and while happily humming she went through the events that lead to this in her head. At the beginning of the year, she was just a regular high-school girl, or so she thought, but after her brother came back as an hollow, she got mixed up in the world of Shinigami's, and obtained an ability called Shun Shun Rikka, which allowed her to fight alongside with Ichigo and her friends when they saved their friend Rukia from Soul Society. After they returned, she decided to muster her courage and confess her feelings to Ichigo, and to her surprise received a confession in turn. After confirming each others feelings, they decided to start dating. After a little while of pondering over what to wear, Orihime settles on a light-green tank top and a skirt of the same color, which was decorated with stripes and flowers. She manages to get her timing just right, because as soon as she had gotten her clothes on, she hears a knock on the door, and skips to open it with a bright smile on her face. "Hi there, Kurosaki-kun!" she cheerfully replies before placing her hands in front of her mouth. "I'm sorry... Hi there... Ichigo," she says meekly and blushing as she uses his first name. But to hide her embarrassment, she laughs out loud with her face all red. "Would you like to come in? I can make some tea before we have to go." She asks while giving way for Ichigo to come in if he decides to have some tea with her. She forgot to put all the clothes she tried back to her wardrobe, and after she moved out of the way, Ichigo could see half of Orihime's wardrobe scattered on the bed and floor. After the mission was over and Captain Hitsugaya had dismissed the rest of his men in 10th division faithful lieutenantRangiku Matsumotostayed next to the captain watching as the soldiers of the division disappeared into the distance, but soon Hitsugaya's words bring her attention back to him."Sorry to say this Captain, but I think that the one who had concentration-problems this time around was you," she replies back while bringing her hands behind her head and smiling a smug smile at her captain and lover. Following HItsugaya's example she puts her sword to rest against the wall and sits down. She tries to cool herself by fanning herself, and to get her body to cool she opens her already ample cleavage even more, and then proceeds to fan her breasts, which are glittering from all the sweatdrops. "Oh boy. That really took a toll on me. Can't wait to get to the barracks and just have a nice relaxing drink after this."she comments knowing full well that 'nice relaxing drink' results in coming to work with a hangover the following day. Rangiku absolutely loved teasing poor Hitsugaya in any way she could, especially after the two became couple. She never thought that the cool and collected Hitsugaya would be interested of her, especially since he treated her like a nuisance every time she tried to get close to him, but she definitely didn't mind that they were now officially together. After getting together Matsumoto's comments and sexual harassments only became more frequent, since she enjoyed seeing how he would react now that they were together. Suddenly the already fun teasing was twice as fun for her.</s>

Time. Space. Reality. The unenlightened believe each of these to be separate and unchanging, a single linear path that all must follow. Those who walk in harmony with the Cosmic Force, however, see them for what they are - interchangeable aspects of the Living Force, a prism of endless possibility where a single choice can branch out into infinite destinies. The unenlightened will ask which of these destinies is true? Which will come to pass? But those who walk in harmony with the Cosmic Force will understand. All of them are true. All of them will come to pass. All are united, in the Cosmic Force. From The Book of the Whills Star Wars: Eclipse of the Black Sun Mustafar "You wanna get in on the pool?" Two men sat at a small table, idly watching a bank of monitors. The speaker, a tall, pale human in a grey jumpsuit, slouched in his chair with an air of boredom. His companion, a leathery Gungan, looked up from the blaster he was servicing. "What pool?" "How long it'll take the Jedi to escape and kill us all." The Gungan glanced at the lone figure on the monitor screens, then turned back to his weapon. "Miss Linora thinks we can hold him. How do we collect if we die?" A shrug. "Nah. It's the satisfaction of knowing you were right, really. You know, before you die." The Gungan snorted, then made a few adjustments with a wrench. "Right. And if he doesn't and none of us win?" "Then, in a month, we use the money to bring a few girls in and we have ourselves a party." The human chuckled. "That way, everyone wins." The Gungan chuckled as well. "Right. I'm in, then. Twenty-two days open?" "Ooh, optimistic!" the human laughed, checking his data slate. "And yeah, it is. I'll put you down." Suspended in his restraints, Quentin was sweating profusely. Not out of fear or discomfort, although the restraints certainly weren't comfortable, but because he had drawn on the Force to accelerate his metabolism. All of the various drugs he was purging had to go somewhere, after all, and not everything could be exhaled. Linora had clearly had a hand in designing this cell, because it was clearly designed to restrain a Jedi. Suspension restraints that held him spread-eagled and which injected a chemical cocktail to muddy his thinking. Randomly strobing lights to keep him disoriented. Oh, and the occasional electric shock, just to convulse his muscles and keep things interesting. Very clever work. He figured he'd be out in another half hour. But then, he wasn't the typical Jedi. Muscles still twitching from the latest shock, Quentin concentrated his perceptions on the restraint engulfing his right hand and wrist. Matter was nothing but fields of interlocking forces, after all. Once you had the knack, it was as easy to look within an object as upon it. The Miraluka had mastered this secret tens of thousands of years ago, and had taught it to the Jedi. Slowly, he began to understand the structure of the restraint. Then he heard the door open. Waves of fear washed across his skin, followed by two familiar presences. One like dark flame, burning by freezing. The other seething rage, armoring a core of despair. With a sigh he opened his eyes, taking in the forms of Linora and Kaydia. Both were guarding their thoughts, but it was clear from their body language that this wasn't a rescue. He composed his thoughts, submerging his distress at seeing the woman he loved standing with the woman who he had loved. "I hope you'll forgive my poor manners," he said, forcing a wry smile. "I pride myself on my manners, but... well, I'm a little tied up right now."

Quentin deserves this. Kaydia had to repeat the mantra to herself, again and again, hardening herself against the love that lingered in her heart. Instead, she rubbed her wrists, wrists that still chaffed from her ordeals with the pirates who had had Rage flared in Kaydia, making it easier to ignore Quentin's distress. He let them hurt me. He deserves this. Linora, on the other hand, smirked. "I would have considered rude if you weren't tied up right now." With a faint clink, she opened a locked cabinet on the far side of the cell. A plethora of implements awaited within, tools of torture as well as drugs and even first aid. After all, torment was far more effective so long as your target didn't bleed out or die of an infection. Linora selected a needle and a small milky vial that needed no label. "Not Inertia," Kaydia protested, despite the way her body craved another hit. "It's not going to work on him." Linora put the needle down, "What are you thinking, then?" "That you catch more flies with honey," Kaydia dipped one finger into the jar, creating sticky currents. Maintaining eye contact with Linora, she sucked her finger clean, and pulled the brunette into a hungry kiss. Lips and tongues met and dueled, fighting for every last drop in each other's mouths. Kaydia tightened her fist in Linora's hair, bending her back so Kaydia could feast on her throat and chest. After the lavender sweetness of the honey, the salty sweat of her skin was divine. Linora moaned, and met Quentin's eyes. "You want to join us, don't you Quentin?" Kaydia opened her blouse to the waist, cupping her perky, soft breasts. Her own harden in turned, empathic feedback reflecting Linora's sensations back to her. "You could join us. It would be so easy." Kaydia bit Linora there, leaving a red mark on her fair skin. She didn't want Quentin to come along easy. It wasn't easy for her, after all. Why should he get off without any struggle? "He's not going to," she rasped, collecting another dollop of honey. "He's far too good of Jedi for all that." Smearing amber fluid over her lips, she met his eyes for the first time since entering his cell. He never loved you, he only pretended. He would have protected you, if he truly loved you. Kaydia silenced his protests with her lips, forcing her sweetened tongue into his mouth. Her nails dug into his shoulders as the kiss deepened, hating how much she loved this. How much she still loved him, even after everything. He was supposed to be her way out, her happily ever after. Now? He was just another man who'd used her. Who abandoned her after she was no longer useful. She would still be there now, if it wasn't for Linora. Fuck that, and fuck him. He'd know what he'd abandoned her to, once they were done. He'd know.</s>

Grim nodded and began pushing harder and faster. "Oh sis, you know I'm loving this," he groaned, "I've dreamed and fantasized about this - taking you and having you as my own." He moved his hands to her breasts. Fear watched Mandy and grinned as he licked along her neck. "Tastes sweet," he said, smiling. He started to rub his hand in between her legs. "Nice and warm too."

She gasped softly and let out a pleasurable moan, her cheeks a deep red. "Oh brother, you're so kind to me. I don't want to lose you to another fair woman," she whispered softly as a hand moved up to hold one of his hands against her breasts. "Please, make me a woman, dearest brother, fill me with your seed," he whispered to him as she rubbed her breast with his hand. Mandy blushed and let out a frustrated sound as she struggled and hissed insults at Fear in her mind. If she hadn't been restrained, she would have tried to beat him, or get back at him for doing this to him. She was frustrated that she wasn't able to talk at least. She would have loved to at least be able to hurl insults out at him.</s>

An Alice in Wonderland role play featuring detox__ and Muffens-N-Kittens.

Cheshire stared at Alice. She knew what was beneath the dress; soft skin, perky nipples, and an overall lovely girl. It was time to show her new playmate her true form. Standing up on her hind two legs, Cheshire's body grew and stretched tall, growing curvy curves and nice sized breasts. Her butt was nicely shaped, her skin tanned with the pink stripped fur still existing on the sides of her legs, arms, and a long, silky tail hanging elegantly. She had long brown hair that was long, wavy, and very soft. She sat naked, her nipples and clit hanging out in the open. "Young child Alice, we shall engage in a round of jolly merriment and erotic tom-foolery with me, and thou shall enjoy every thrust of the sticky vines," Cheshire said, snapping her fingers and summoning a mass parade of tentacles came out of the forest. A tentacle flew towards Alice and constricted her. "Question one: If a cow laughs so hard then will milk come out its nose?" she asked, licking her lips playfully while she stared at Alice's chest.</s>

It had been weeks since Kanye started on his journey. He had spent most of these weeks learning how to track and hunt pokegirls so that he would be fully prepared to catch one. When he finally felt that he was ready, the young 16 year old headed towards a mountainous area known for its high cliffs. Perfect for getting the drop on a pokegirl and capturing her for his soon-to-be harem. Kanye carried a backpack with him which had all the usual supplies. Food, pokeballs, and an item that he promptly got out to look below with, a pair of binoculars. He crawled on his belly to the edge of a cliff to look below, checking for any signs of possible prey. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. The young man was beginning to get frustrated just waiting for something to pop up. "Come on, come on!" he muttered to himself. "There's got to be something around here." With a sigh, Kanye tried to calm himself a bit. After all, it wasn't like a pokegirl was going to fall right into his lap or something...

Sadly for Kanye, there were two issues with his preparation. One was that he was looking in the wrong place entirely, and secondly, a Pokegirl was about to fall into his lap, in some way. Not far behind him, in the brush, training, was a Cockadiddle. She stood around 5'10'', green eyes, focused ahead of her, and a nicely sized C cup chest. Her feathered body moved quickly with her movements, precise, swinging her English bastard sword around in general attack patterns, preparing herself for anything. The girl's day generally involved training and, when done, and if alone, as she had been for quite some time, masturbating with the hilt of her lovely sword. As her species always did, she wished she had a male around, someone to give her what she wanted: semen and cock, and plenty of it. After a bit of practice, she sighed, placing the sword over her shoulder, looking around; she sensed something. But how could it be...no one came up here anymore. Neither human or Pokegirl was around this cliff, aside from herself, and she made this place her home. Aside from a man, it had everything else she needed. Brushing off her smooth, slender both, her feathers ruffling a little, her tail feathers swished with her firm rear, a grin forming on her lips. Creeping from the brush and forest, she peaked out, bird legs ready to dash if needed, till, her eyes fell on a target, her eyes going wide, and something 'clicking'. Holding onto her sword tight, she pounced, leaping straight over, bounding right behind Kanye, grinning from ear to ear, as she poked his rear end with the butt of her sword. "Well, hello there, sexy. Did you come up here for little 'ol me? How sweet of you...." Smirking widely, she grabbed him and dragged him away from the cliff, turned him over, sat on his lap, and giggled, looking to his eyes as she quickly began to undo his pants. "I haven't had a man in...I can't even remember. I've needed relief for so long...my sword can only do so much. Hope your a strong lad, sweetie~" Licking his cheek, she smirked, using one of her finely feather hands to rub at his nose exposed length, keeping the rest of his pants on, her fingers working wonders on his flesh, seeming to have great manual dexterity and experience in this area.</s>

Lexus sighed some as she woke up that morning, the new day in Tokyo, and she was nervous about going to school, not knowing that there were some bad guys around school. Getting up, she looked around the apartment she was in and growled some. She took a shower, got dressed into that school uniform which she liked and hated at the same time. Her hair being a light/bright blonde with black highlights, she smiled and looked in the mirror before heading off to school. Looking around as she walked past people, she listened to her iPod and swung her head side to side, knowing soon she would probably find a boyfriend or some close friends. She was the most popular kid back in the United States and she loved how she looked. Smirking some as she got to the school, she looked around at the big building that looked like a college or something else but knew it was a school. Sighing some, she went in and looked for her locker, saw some guys looking at her, and got a scared look in her eyes but ignored it, not knowing what they thought of her. Opening her locker, she grabbed her books and put them in her skater backpack that she brought from her town and what her close friend gave her. She slammed the locker door before starting for her class. She shook her head and dragged her feet on the floor, still swinging her head side to side while listening to her music. She didn't know what or who was looking at her, but she didn't give a fuck when she got to the class and looked up, seeing the hottest guy in school and blushing some as he looked at her. She quickly took out her earphones and put them in her backpack, smiling before going into the classroom and sitting down in the back where there was a seat next to the window. Looking back up at the teacher, Lexus couldn't hear what she was saying because of her iPod. Taking her books out of her backpack, she put them on the desk and just looked out the window, rolling her eyes as she wondered what the hell was going to happen today. She hated moving away from so many friends and close family members, and it pissed her off not wanting to do it. She had been pushed into it after getting into a fight with another girl over some stupid thing and being kicked out of the school.

Light Yagami, was his name. Light is written with the kanji for moon and Yagami for night and god. Just the name screamed success and that is what he was. He was born to be on top, to win, to get whatever he wanted. Why else would he be so perfect? He had everything, yet still wanted more. If you only saw Light at first glance without actually knowing him, you would label him as a spoiled brat who never seemed to be satisfied no matter what he was given. This male was blessed with so much. His looks were almost god-like with his short thick but soft dark brown hair and bedroom brown eyes. The type of eyes that just seemed to look right into your soul and manipulate you to his will. He was perfectly toned and thin, soft firm body and a chiseled yet angelic face. He was tall, standing at 5'8" and weighing 119 pounds. Of course looks wasn't all he had if that was it then he wouldn't be perfect, or at least the closest thing to it. No, he also had talent, skills that people would do anything to have. Then there was his stunning intellect. He was very intelligent, his mind was something not many could compare to, always being top of his class. A hard working honor student who's considered to be one of Japan's best and brightest. That was the title he thought himself to be. There was more to him than that. He wasn't Just Light Yagami. The son of Soichiro Yagami who was chief of the police task force headquarters. No, he was someone else in secret, unknown to every human. Light was also Kira. The biggest thing that has ever hit the world. History in the making that what Kira was. His goal was to eliminate all the criminals, one death at a time until his world was complete where he reigns over as the new god! Even if it meant sacrificing his own soul it was worth it. The world was rotten and it just kept getting worse. Everyday he had watched innocent people's announced death on T.V or another rape victim. The world cant go on like this anymore he had to make a change and with his new found power it was possible. He could do it, create a new world of peace, a world everyone desires. He was the only one who could do it, no one else would take the responsibility of doing anything in their power to make this a better world..only he could. Sure he knew killing was wrong, but it had to be done. Those who cause suffering for others don't deserve to live, they don't deserve a trial. That wasn't Justice in his eyes! Day after day criminals got away with their crimes because there was no evidence against them, but not anymore. Now he was the one who judged them, he was the one who decided who lived and died regardless of physical evidence. And his decision for crime was death...no second chances, no trial...Either a simple heart attack if they were charged with worse crimes or accidental death for lesser crimes. Those were his ideas when he first became Kira, a dream of a perfect world, but it showed more and more that he was losing control. The ability to kill he had been given was taking over his mind, making him a different person than who he used to be. He wasn't justice anymore, he was evil but couldn't accept that fact, or rather he was too blind with power and thoughts of being god to care. His goal was no longer for the world, but for himself. He had grown selfish and wasn't just killing criminals but those who got in his way. Innocent or not, it didn't matter; if they messed with him, interfered, or knew too much, he would eliminate them without hesitation. His heart was a dark place, and his thoughts were cruel. In a symbolic sense, he wasn't even human anymore. Light was sitting at his desk with his arm propped up and his chin resting in his palm as he gazed outside. He sat by the window on the right toward the middle-to-back area of the classroom. The lesson the teacher was giving was old news to him so he didn't feel like paying attention. All he really had to do was get the homework done, he didn't have to participate because he already knew the subject. His eyes moved from the window to the door once he heard the teacher stop talking and everything go silent. He looked at the girl that entered. He had never seen her before, she must be new. He could tell that she wasn't Japanese, if he was to guess by looks he'd say she was American. His eyes followed her, turning his head when she got out of eye sight until she sat down a few seats behind him. He didn't know why but something about her caught his interest. Maybe it was because she was a nationality that they don't get much of, so it was something new. After a few more minutes of watching her, Light turned his head back toward the window. An annoyed look then appeared on his face as his gaze looked to something else, but what he was looking at was a mystery. Light growled under his breath and looked back to the window, waiting with pure boredom for class to end.</s>

It was a boring, uneventful sort of day. The sun was high up above, shining down brilliantly, shimmering off the waxy surface of the tall grass and waters of the cool lake. A few bird Pokemon could be heard chirping and chittering rather happily in the trees, but there were no figures visible, only sounds heard. The clouds overhead moved lazily through the tall leafy canopy, as if nature itself had decided to relax and come to an almost complete standstill, though one might expect an explosion of sorts to suddenly tear through the air and break the silence. Nothing of the sort happened unfortunately. The only movement came from a trainer and his partner, a Jolteon male. Both shared the same gleaming green stare, though the trainer was dressed while the Jolteon seemed to enjoy letting his rather menacing-looking spikes keep him covered and looking less exposed, though of course he was exposed to the elements. The blond boy sighed. His Pokemon partner followed suit. "Not a single trainer, Pokemon or battle all day long," the boy complained as he slumped, dropping his pack down on the ground to kneel over the small crystal clear water to splash his face. "I know," his Jolteon, who like his trainer seemed to share the same lust for excitement and action, said. "Nothing at all... today is boring and dull." He sent arcs of electricity surging through his spiked mane, which did well to cover his features. "I know," the boy said, seeming almost cautious in speaking with his disgruntled Pokemon. "We still have a few days till we get to the next town, so we have plenty of time to run into something to do before a gym battle," he said, which seemed to calm the Jolteon down just a bit, but only a bit.

Oddly enough, the same could be said about the day of another sort of plane, another universe of existence, a parallel one. A somewhat boring, uneventful day seemed to be in store for a young hedgehoggirl as well, as she sat underneath a tree, close to Emerald Hill. Lately, things around here had been quiet, peaceful, calm...which to some was nice, but the girl actually found it all rather boring. Generally, when one grows up in a world which is almost constantly under attack by a disgruntled fat man and his creations, you tend to get used to always being active. Being the sort to always enjoy being out and about, Canta had been spending her day just relaxing, trying to get used to it...and failing terribly. "Dammit...I know I shouldn't be hoping for an attack or something, but why can't something happen today?" As she spoke to herself, eyes closed, her ear twitched lightly, sliding open an emerald orb, glancing past her red streaked pink hair, as her scarf began to blow in an upcoming wind. "What...?" Suddenly, the wind started picking up, forming what looked like a tornado or vortex about twenty feet from her, starting to force anything not nailed down to come closer, Canta included. Springing to her feet, she started to drag her booted feet into the grass, trying to pick up speed in the other direction. While not every hedgehog was gifted with the speed of light or sound, she was no slouch...but this close, without any warning to run, she didn't have much of a chance. Letting out a yell, she was lifted off her feet and tossed about, before blacking out. A flash or two of thunder could be heard above the trainer and his Jolteon, as the wind tunnel seemed to form high above the tree, spitting something out of it, as it came falling through the tree, then splashing down near the bank of the little lake. It was Canta, the hedgehog, passed out, hair a mess, shirt pushed up near her chest, and skirt tussled around, with her scarf and arm-sock glove looking close to falling off.</s>

Kim Possible stepped off the jet at the airport in Middleton for the first time in years since she left for college. That had been six years ago after the alien invasion. Law had been the major of choice for the former teen hero. Since she was known world wide, she had to work extra hard to prove she deserved her degree and wasn't just going to get it based on recognizance. She hadn't kept in much touch with her friends from home. After she and Ron had broken up, they hadn't really talked. She talked with Monique from time to time and obviously kept in touch with her parents and younger brothers. She still talked to Wade as often as she had before, still going on missions from time to time. He had even told her he had arranged for her ride from the airport to her parents. It didn't click with her as to who was actually picking her up for she was used to the drivers being a surprise. As she walked through the airport to the front entrance, her mind drifted to thoughts of a certain raven-haired woman with glowing green hands since she had last seen her before she left for college. Little did she know, she was about to have her first reunion with her...

The six years had passed somewhat uneventfully for Shego; she'd gone to running schemes occasionally with Dr. Drakken, but for the most part, she was freelance. Things were just no fun without Kim "Kimmie" Possible around, and so between missions, she had sought out Kim's college, learning in the process of Kim's trip back to Middleton. And thusly she had plotted. The taxi she had rented and personally outfitted had taken some amount of money, but the glowing name "Kim Possible" showed up on the top of the taxi, and contrary to usual appearances, she was not readily visible in the front seat. Some amount of makeup had given her a little flesh color, whilst a brown coat and a tweed hat kept her raven hair up, hiding her identity. One claw tapped idly on the wheel, whilst moisture ran out onto the leather of her seat, her hand somewhat busy down there. At first the semi-stalking (reconnaissance she'd called it) had been only about finding a way back into the life of danger she'd experienced before, fighting on the edge with Kim in life-or-death struggles, it had become more. Kim had matured into a beautiful young woman, she'd noticed after a while, and so her "reconnaissance" was often done at night, with a catsuit that zipped in the crotch. She waited patiently for Kim to come to the car, knowing soon that their little reunion would be underway..</s>

Josh had been fishing all day to prepare this meal, catching rainbow trout, a fish that eluded catching in most streams, but he had found a spot that was crawling with them. He had cooked them over an open fire, flavored with orangeberries and a bit of peachberries. He and his Lopunny had been together for years now, and had won their way through two Elite Four championships... but lately something was different about her, she seemed to act strangely... but he just shrugged it off and called, "Okay, dinner's ready!" He knew the call wouldn't be necessary, as he knew the scent would attract her from miles away. While he waited, he divided the fish into two servings, one for him and one for his Lopunny.

Life couldn't have gotten any better for the pokegirl. Ever since her first encounter with her trainer, it seemed as though their empathic bond, trust, and her evident loyalty for him were evident and not even the toughest of situations would be able to tear the two apart. Through thick and thin they stayed together and failure was never an option for the two. The Pokegirl had striven and determined to work hard to be her best in order to please her master, ultimately becoming victorious in the end; true though the need to succeed and please Josh had taken quite a toll on the girl more than once in the past, she overlooked the negativity of it all and just knew that winning was the good that came out of it all. Lopunny was grateful towards her trainer and she knew well that she could have ended up with another trainer; one who was more aggressive, tough, and relentless than Josh. One that wouldn't care for the poor girl in the way that Josh had. It was Josh's gentle demeanor that the Pokegirl felt was what had drawn them together and made their bond what it was today. Dark ivory clouds of different sizes moved lazily around in the multi-colored sky, evidence that the day was coming to a close. The Pokgirl lay upon the soft grass as she gazed upon the sky. Soft, chocolate eyes twinkled lightly under the setting sun's rays, and her brown fur swayed in a gentle wind that touched her bear skin slightly, whispering in her ear as it zipped quickly by. A gentle sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes ever so slightly. Lately, something had been bothering her. It seemed that her bond with Josh had grown somewhat awkward between them - as though he wanted more than just a trainer/Pokgirl relationship. The gentle touch of his hand as he stroked her ears or even the sweet aroma that came off him from his cologne made her shiver, making her yearn for him. It appeared as though she wanted him more than just a trainer, though it frustrated her and embarrassed her to think of him as anything but. Whenever she was around him, tension filled their silence, and it frustrated her not only sexually but also emotionally. Nature was taking its toll on the young Pokgirl, and the urge for pleasure was drawing upon her. She found herself bending over from time to time, flashing her revealing sex to him innocently, though she wasn't doing it intentionally. Nature was a cruel mistress, but the Pokgirl had to get used to her ways and just stay cool whenever she was around her trainer. Sighing softly once more, her ears perked forward and her nose twitched at the scent of cooked fish. The scent pulled her in, as though her feet were barely touching the ground. As she made her way to her trainer, the aroma of the trout was overwhelming; the Lopunny found herself drooling at best, but quickly wiped her mouth before her trainer could notice. Her cotton ball of a tail twitched slightly as she made herself towards the table; her body swayed to and fro as her gait was a graceful one. Taking a seat, she glanced down at the fish and smiled. "Lopunny! Looks good," she chimed in, her angelic voice echoing softly. While she tried to stray away from speaking the English language - due to the fact that her English wasn't the best - and she would have preferred to stay away from such a language, she practiced her English so her communication with Josh was better. With a smile, she waited for Josh to take the first bite; she didn't want to seem gluttonous after all.</s>

Sakura hurried along the snowy streets of the village, desperately fighting against the cold. The fur-trimmed coat just barely managed to keep the cold away from her, though she could still feel the chill. Christmas Eve had come to the village, bringing with it a deep snow as well as the holiday cheer. Sakura could barely make out the shapes of the houses through the blinding gale. "Where is Sasake's house?" she murmured, adjusting her coat again. Her plan was still flawless. In this outfit, with the holiday season around, Sasake couldn't help but give in to Sakura's seductions. She'd have him right where she wanted him: on his back. Just thinking about it filled Sakura with warmth, and she nodded confidently to herself, pausing only to hit her open palm with a fist. "It's got to work!" she announced. She didn't really care who heard: the streets were nearly empty anyway. Everyone probably hid in their houses for now. The female ninja hurried along then, finally pausing at a house. She peered at it, unable to make out the exact address under the cover of snow. But the house shape looked right, and everything matched up with her directions. Sakura took a deep breath, then hurried to the window. Moving carefully, she lifted the glass, and lowered herself into the house. The moment her feet touched floor, Sakura let her coat hang loose, hinting at her outfit beneath. Her bare stomach already showed, and bits of crinkled red showed. Now, she just needed to either find Sasake and surprise him, or find a good place to lay in wait...

Unfortunately for her, Sakura had gotten a little turned around in the thick snow, taken a wrong turn here and there, turned back on herself once or twice, and whilst the house she had ended up at may have bore a resemblance to her intended destination, it most certainly wasn't the right place. As Sakura lifted the window, a cold draught flowed in along with her, then climbed into the living room slowly, what she thought was a silent entry had been noticed, though not by the person she had been hoping to notice. In the darkened doorway, Ino crouched silently, raising an eyebrow at the rather...unusual...sight that had crawled into her living room. Well well...Sakura was certainly dressed in a festive manner to say the least. Ino's initial reaction was to have been just to stand up and demand to know what the hell Sakura was doing, but seeing her like that...well...it just sent some rather strange thoughts through Ino's head, and she couldn't help but grin. Quickly and silently, she crept up to her bedroom, changing into her own special outfit, before creeping silently back downstairs, where Sakura still seemed to be laying in wait in the main room. Standing at the doorway, Ino felt a final moments hesitation about what she was planning to do, but she quickly pushed those thoughts away and pulled out a small bag hanging from her robe, taking some powder from it, being careful not to inhale any, before blowing it discreetly into the living room. It wouldn't take long for the powder to take effect on anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the way. It contained a rather powerful aphrodisiac, but at the same time hints of a tranquilising agent. Not enough to knock someone out, but enough to make them weak enough that a child could knock them over. And now, Ino just grinned, sitting and waiting for Sakura to be affected....</s>

Nothing in the world was better than sunbathing. Today was the perfect day, and many Pokmon and Pokmorphs alike were enjoying the warm weather. Two tall pink ears twitched as purple eyes opened up. The pink-furred figure stood and stretched, just as a few humans walked by. They stopped and stared for a moment, but soon moved on. Her split-tipped tail swung behind her as she walked towards the ocean before her. Unlike some of her siblings, Espeon enjoyed swimming every now and again. What she liked most though was drying her fur in the sun after a lovely swim. Twenty minutes later, the morph walked out of the water and laid on a large rock that was put on the beach for fire Pokmon or Morphs to sunbathe on. Of course, a lot more than just those types used it. Espeon lay out with her feet crossed at her ankles and her tail flicked from side to side as she closed her eyes. She could hear everything going on around her, but what awakened her was the fact that the sun was setting behind some clouds. Pouting, Espe decided to get up and head back into the woods so she could be on her way home. Usually she didn't travel through the woods where trainers hunted her kind. She stuck to city streets and other paths, but since her last battle, her clothes had been ripped up and with nothing to wear, she had to travel like any other Pokmorph. Yes, that's right. Espeon was naked. Her nipples became perky as a breeze blew by, but she barely even noticed. The psychic morph decided to rest along the side of a well-traveled path. Her purple eyes closed, but she was on full alert, just in case someone came by.

Tyler sighed softly as he slowly moved through the city. Today would be the day that he caught himself a pokemorph, it was the perfect weather today, and he knew that a lot of pokemorphs would be out in the woods today. Of course, a lot of them were shy, but he didn't care; he was going to get one, no matter what. He knew the forests outside the city very well, and therefore he also knew where he was going to look. He looked down at the pokeball in his hand and smiled. His Arcanine was strong enough to take on any possible challenge, so he wasn't worried about anything right now. He saw the outskirts of the forest and then moved a bit faster, so he could get there as fast as possible. He soon reached the forest and let out his Arcanine so she would be ready to challenge a pokemorph or defend him against one. She started looking around before catching the scent of a morph that had been there not long ago. "Lead the way, Arcanine," he said, and they ran after her. Of course, he couldn't run as fast as his Arcanine, but he had trained her so she wouldn't run too fast that he couldn't follow her. The female Arcanine stopped near an Espeon morph... A naked one... That wasn't something you saw every day. "Okay, Espeon, get up! Let's fight!" he told her with a smile upon his lips, as his Arcanine took a defensive stand. He was ready, and so was his Arcanine. "If you don't fight, I'll just have Arcanine weaken you until you are weak enough to get caught!" he told her as he looked over at her with a confident smile upon his lips. He loved battles, and hopefully this Espeon would put up a good fight.</s>

The sun rose high over Johto to greet the world full of Pokemon, humans and Pokemorphs. Everyone seemed to be up early that morning, even the most lazy of people. Well, all except for the Snorlax that lived in the area. The sky was bright and blue by the time the rays of the sun penetrated the leaves that covered a cute little face. She had fallen asleep under some bushes the previous night to keep out of sight of those odd night trainers. Stretching, her brown paws popped out of the bushes and her thin black tail tipped with a big yellow lightning bolt swished around for a moment before she got on her knees and crawled out of her hiding spot. Standing up fully, the Raichu morph was just about five feet, six inches tall. Her slender body was covered in leaves, which she quickly dusted off. She hated it when her fur got all icky. Well, it was time to get a move on! Raichu slowly made her way towards Goldenrod City. She had been hiding out in the National Park since trainers didn't usually hang around there at night. The morph was careful to avoid eyesight when possible. It was rare to see a Pokemorph out in the day unless it was a captured one that was paraded around as a pet. Her curly tipped ears pinned back when she heard someone else rustling around in the bushes. Who else would be here in the bushes? A small spark of electricity came from her yellow cheeks as she tried to see who might be there. ]

The trainer left for his first day of becoming a pokemon master, though his mother and father were sorely against it. He wanted so bad to become the greatest that he paid them no mind when he left. But because of that, he left without a pokemon to even protect himself from the wilder ones around the area. He was too scared to even attempt a capture on any pokemon. He brought his bag from around his shoulder, looking at the contents of it. He had three normal pokeballs, two master balls, and one morph ball. The morph ball was the rarest of all the balls to catch the rarest of pokemon - the pokemorph. It was a pokemon that had the shape of a human - male or female. He sighed to himself, thinking why did he spend so much money on that damn ball and he was never going to see one. Their fucking rare and he's a newb. His head snapped to the left of him when he heard a sound on the other side of the bushes. Hitting the ground quickly and quietly, he crawled over to the bush, looking through the few leaves that blocked his face. Tariyamicursed his bag silently to himself as he watched the Raichu study the area. It seemed to be a female and a shockingly fine one too. Slowly pulling some pokfood from his fallen bag, he throws it out from the bushes hoping the pokemorph would just go for the free food and not explore where the food came from. He rolled from the spot he was in, trying to relocate himself without the Raichu noticing, which way he rolled. He reached in his bag, pulling out his morph ball, placing it behind his back, waiting for his chance to either use it or show himself to her.</s>

Sirius sighed boredly as he sat in the Gryffindor common room, occasionally blowing a strand of thick hair out of his face, though it soon fell back across his eyes. By this time of the night most of the students had gone to bed, though as usual Sirius and Remus were still downstairs, and as usual Sirius was bored while Remus did his usual evening reading. Textbooks, newspapers... whatever had words on it really. At a week until the full moon, Remus was still his usual, relatively boring, self, though in just a few days things would start to change. At the very least, Remus would get a little more... interesting. "Come on Remus," Sirius whined boredly, jumping up to his feet. "This is boring, there's gotta be something to do besides reading. Can't we go take a look around the castle or something? Find someone to play a few pranks on... maybe even one of the teachers on their evening rounds?" He grinned slightly, leaning in over Remus. "Come on, just something other than reading for a change."

Remus was absorbed in the book he was currently reading, another book about werewolves, though the title didn't seem to hint at it. If anyone asked he would just say it was something he was interested in at the moment. He was vaguely aware of Sirius and his growing boredom. It wasn't until he felt the small sensation of the other's breath so close to him that he realized how restless the other was getting. Instinctively his body tensed. "What did I tell you about getting so close to me?" he breathed out quietly. "You're way too close." He closed the book and looked over at the other, his cheeks a soft pink. He always had the same shade when the other got too close. "We always do what you want anyways. Couldn't you spend one night studying, you know doing something I want, instead of always insisting we go off and screw around with the first person we see?" He sighed and shook his head. "Don't answer that. I already know the answer," he said calmly. "Fine, we'll do what you want, since we clearly don't let you out enough." He mumbled the vague reference to the other's animagus form.</s>

Naruto ran into the village they were taking refuge in that night, a large lump on his stomach. "Oh shit, oh shit, this is not good," he muttered under his breath as he searched for his sensei and Sakura. The lump on his stomach? A small black kitten that he had stuffed under his shirt a few minutes earlier. He struggled a bit as the lump started moving, and adjusted the feline under his tattered jacket. Why was it so dark? Sasuke blinked open coal-black eyes to see virtually nothing. He could make out a flash of orange, and what felt like skin against his face. What the hell? The boy squirmed a bit against his captor, his ears picking up the sound of Naruto's voice and footsteps. He hissed deeply under his cloth prison and sank his claws into the dobe's skin, causing the blonde to flinch.

Kakashi-Sensei had been staying inside of the building they were using as a home for the mission they were on. Going to smaller villages and having to break up their wars was such a tiring job, so sitting back reading his adult stories was the only way to get comfortable in the village. It was nice having the place to himself while Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura all had gone out to finish doing a few things around the village. He had been reading for mere minutes when he heard Naruto just outside the building. He only heard him because he gave a yell of pain. He didn't know where it came from, but when he looked out the window next to him at Naruto, all he could tell was that something was in his jacket. "Naruto, come inside," he yelled down to his student. Now all he had to do was wait for Sasuke and Sakura.</s>

Aizen sighed and rubbed his eyes as he watched Zelman finish off another dancer as a meal. "Really brother," he said, shaking his head. "You really have to do this, don't you? At this rate, we'll never get this place opened. Do you know they want us to fail?" Zelman sighed and pushed the dancer aside, who was nothing more than a limp body. "They won't risk the backlash that would come from it," he replied. "Sure, they want to get rid of us, but they would also be hurting themselves." Aizen watched as his older brother picked up a wine glass and drank down the dark red liquid. "I don't see why you don't just drink what we have stored," he continued. "It wouldn't kill off our hired work!" The Night Fang was the newest nighttime club in the city, and all the hype about it would be lived up to if they ever could get ready to be opened. It was going to have multiple dance levels, private rooms, an indoor pool and jacuzzi, and working bars. Zelman looked out at the line outside and nodded to the bouncers. "Let them in," he said. "Free drinks for the opening night!" Zelman laughed after disposing of the body and heading down to enjoy the party. Aizen, on the other hand, stayed on the VIP level watching as the crowd filled up.

Jessica was excited to experience Night Fang. She had heard nothing but great press about it and was thrilled to be near the front of the line on opening night, waiting to be let in. She looked over at her friend Belle and smiled a large smile. "This is going to be the best!" she declared. The large bouncer stood just in front of her, his muscles rippling and bunching up his tight shirt. They had obviously hired the best for this club! She wasn't about to try anything with him! Her husband Roger was out of the country filming a movie and she had been aching for a night out on the town to let her stress out and get admired by some men. When Belle had mentioned that it was opening night for Night Fang, it only took her a moment to agree and begin to get dress. Standing now in her favorite shimmering red dress that hugged her curves and showed off her deep, plunging cleavage, she was getting impatient to get into the music and the drinks. Finally, the bouncer lifted the divider and stepped aside, allowing the crowd into the club. Jessica bounced in on her high heels, tugging Belle along by the hand, as they first went to the bar for a Sex on the Beach each, and then found their way onto the dance floor.. soon, the drinks and the music were blending together in them as they went more and more wild, letting out all of their anxieties and worries, finding freedom in the dance.</s>

Sonata patted her cheeks and took a deep breath in front of the mirror. "Okay this is it," she said, after all the training and preparation. She adjusted her white tank top, tightening the belt on her white cargo pants. She didn't want them falling down due to some unusual extremities; it would be embarrassing on an insane level. Out of insecurity, she patted herself, feeling the long thick bulge beneath her pants. Yup, it was still there. She wouldn't mind...if she thought people were more understanding. But she would probably be labeled a freak for having a penis, and a sizable one at that. "Oh come on! No one knows so stop worrying!" she sighed. It was a pain to. She was by any standards gorgeous, with long shiny white hair, firm, shapely breasts, perfect ass and legs, and an eleven-inch long dick. Perfect. Oh well. Eventually, she might build up the courage to tell someone, maybe her trainer friend perhaps. It had been years since she'd seen her, since she'd gone off to become a Pokegirl trainer. Ever since then, Sonata had been training to become a breeder, so maybe she could at least help her friend in some way. As she walked to the agreed meeting place, she mused over what her friend would look like. She herself had changed quite a bit since they split off, imagining her as busty and hot like her. Somehow it wouldn't take, she imagined her a little more gothic or alternative style. Though she had to stop visualizing as her member was beginning to respond. It was okay, her baggy cargo pants hid it unless she got a full-on erection. She breathed deep and cleaned up her thoughts. Enough of that. She was almost there.

Kaia adjusted the glasses that had sunk to the bridge of her nose. Her short black hair framed her face in a cute way, just showing enough to entice, but hiding some of her features from view. Her dark eyes looked out across the grass that led right up to the gate that led into Saffron City. She could see the skyscrapers and buildings so close, but blocked off by the hills and stone that ran around the city. She'd not been home for so long. She was excited to see her friend, Sonata, who had wanted to become a Pokegirl breeder when Kaia had left so long ago. She blushed as she found herself straightening her outfit, a short skirt and a long-sleeved sweater to keep out the chill of winter. Her legs were kept warm with the thermal hosiery that she wore, and her neck and chin was warmed with the orange striped scarf. She felt a cool breeze brush past and she shivered, but only for a moment. Her thoughts quickly went back to the friend she hadn't seen in so long. Her hand went to one of the balls at her belt, which she took and tossed, pressing the button before letting it fly. A flash of light and Eevee, her pokegirl stood there. The girl had long ears that came from the mussed and matching brown hair that hung thick in the way of her own glasses. She wore a tan scarf and a brown and white shirt, a skirt and stockings finishing the ensemble, her thick bushy tail sticking out from the hem of the skirt. She looked like her owner, if nothing else, then in clothes, though they weren't exactly alike. "I want you to meet Sonata, Eve," she said as they went through the doorway of the gate, "She's gorgeous and I think I want her to work with you to breed. I think I want to get you mating with another Eevee sometime soon." The pokegirl nodded, the blood rising in her cheeks as her hands unconsciously dropped to the bulge that was hidden beneath the loose folds of her long skirt.</s>

Naruto walked into Tsunade's office and walked out shocked. The building she had constructed was for him and his harem. He looked at the list of girls he would marry - Sakura, Hinata, and Akno were on the top. He was in disbelief about the whole thing. He wandered into a ramen restaurant and ordered some ramen. Naruto was eating when he noticed Akno sitting nearby and he blushed as he looked at his bowl, pretending to eat. He sighed loudly as he put the list back in his pocket and tried to focus on the food.

Anko was possibly more shocked than Naruto had been when Tsunade told her, she had thought Naruto important, but the little brat wasn't really that powerful? Was he? But she was beholden to her Hokage and to her village, and since the little kid had grown up, but still appeared to have almost no experience with sex, she had been chosen to teach him. She had waited at Ichiraku Ramen, figuring he was likely to show up there and lo and behold, here he was. She sighed lightly and sidled up next to him as he ate his food. "So," she said softly. "I need to meet you someplace private to talk about something, once you are done eating, come by my place." She slipped him a piece of paper with her address on it.</s>

"Oh, no," would say Aunt Alice. "That was not what happened at all! For when that happened, we met that person!" "Oh, no," would reply Aunt Miyuki-chan. "That was not what happened at all! For when that happened, it went this way!" She had done her best to listen attentively, but when it came to their eighteenth birthday, it seemed that Aunt Alice and Aunt Miyuki-chan confused more than enlightened. The place would call either be called Wonderland (if you asked Aunt Miyuki-chan) or Sexland (if you asked Aunt Alice). For, as She grew up, She had heard, from her Aunts, about Wonderland (if you asked Aunt Miyuki-chan) and Sexland (if you asked Aunt Alice), but it was not until their eighteenth birthday were She allowed to learn who one would meet in Wonderland (if you asked Aunt Miyuki-chan) or what would happen if one went to Sexland (if you asked Aunt Alice). But, alas, what would be a delightful tale of ticklish fantasy were it said once individually by Aunt Alice then Aunt Miyuki-chan became a trial of boredom when told by both together. She was both becoming aroused (for they were indeed being told what happened and who was there) but also sleepy (for Aunt Alice and Aunt Miyuki-chan did disagree so). But at least did they dream and that is what our tale is about. Alice in Sexland: Miyuki-chan in Wonderland:

Rina read the book hastily trying to skip through the scenes to the best part of the romance novel. "Quickly, quickly," she said as she lay in bed, speeding her way through the book. Her aunts had told her never ever niece, never ever read a sex novel before bed. They finished each other's sentences like usual. In her haste to get to her desired spot, she was tired, slowly drifting as she read the pages blurred and she slept, falling into the bed. She woke up later, rubbing her eyes diligently as she looked around. "Oh No! This wasn't home at all, no no not at all." She looked around taking in the forest path, the tree she sat under was most definitely not her comfy bed. She looked around. "Where is this place, this place I am in, the place that is not my bed?" She questioned standing and walking away from the tree to the path that twisted before her. She heard a sound, it made her jump, jump. It made her as she turned to see a wonderful beauty passing along the path. A strange girl she was indeed, wearing strange clothes and having an abnormal body shape. She cursed the mannerisms of which her aunties had passed on to her throughout the years. She approached the girl, waving her arms. The girl seemed in a rush but still waved. "Excuse me, Excuse me!" Rina called out. The girl seemed to keep moving, but then they bumped with a bang, and both girls fell to the floor with a thud.</s>

Private RP, do not post unless you were invited. Drip Drip Drip At the first signs of her coming about, Karelsmirked. "Tired?" The first thing to be noticed was strain. The strain of her body forced into a position that was most uncomfortable. Her arms were bound together at the wrists and elbows, forced up high almost vertically. The stringent position then forcibly humbled her head, looking down to accustom the sudden change of position of where her arms were. The position was very unnatural, thusly her muscles strained. She stood perfectly taut, her legs spread out with a metallic bar bound to her ankles, tight to prevent her legs from closing: she had to spread her legs a bit. With her torso bending forward, with her arms up there was no way for her to guard what probing hands may fondle upon her private bits, her skirt hiking up from the position to reveal her panties. The room was a dank cell, the dripping of moisture the only real way to make sense of time. The smell of mildew was strong, mold having dirtied this place for many a year. A figure stood right before her, a well-dressed and handsome one. Beignon nobles were known for flair and their desire for the frivolous, corrupt and utterly greedy, it would be of no surprise if they started keeping slaves of Beorcs as well...that would also mean that she was now his property since the time she was interrogated and suddenly released, only to be knocked out and find herself in this position. Probing hands softly rubbed up on her butt cheeks before an open-handed slap struck against her left. "Such a firm ass...battlefield beauties are so well-shapen. Those soldiers weren't lying~" His voice was jesting, almost irritating in a way.

So getting captured hadn't really been part of the plan. Truthfully, Mia did feel a bit blessed in that they hadn't outright killed her, which was what Begnion usually did, especially considering how much trouble the Greil Mercenaries had been for them. Still, the lovely swordmaster certainly wasn't pleased with her current situation. Sure, she was trying to keep a bright outlook on it, figuring that they would eventually rescue her. It was the eventuality that often weighed on her, and was something that Mia really didn't want to think about. She'd been interrogated, released, and then rendered unconscious yet again. When she'd come to, she'd been like this, in this strange shape with no idea where she was. She still figured that it was somewhere in the Begnion Empire, but she couldn't even be wholly certain of that. Really, she had enough to focus on, with the position. Having her head bent forward meant that the long blue hair lay in Mia's sight, blinding her and making it impossible for her to see. Years of practicing with a blade and dancing about the battlefield had left Mia flexible and athletic enough to endure the bent over position, though it drew her body tight, drawing clothing across a pleasant bust. The position tugged her clothing up too, leaving her black leotard as the only thing covering her nether regions. The girl shifted to get comfortable, finding that she could do little more than wiggle. Steps, then hands upon her ass. Mia jerked, not startling so much as rearing, as though she would counterattack. Given a sword, she had no doubt that she could easily handle this fool. However, they had wisely taken any such chance from her. Instead, Mia squirmed, trying to see her captor, and finding that even impossible. She yelled against her gag, struggling and trying to do something, anything. To her credit, she managed to squirm somewhat. More than that, however, proved quite impossible.</s>

Lexi pushed back her long curly black hair behind her shoulders as her long legs took her down the stairway towards the common room. Rounding the corner, her thick lips formed a beautiful smile when she spotted her favorite blonde sitting in a chair reading the paper. Lexi took a lot of joy out of annoying Draco, especially in the morning. He always made it so easy for her. She would never deny there wasn't a sexual attraction that she had towards him, but he was always such a dick and she could never get past that. Lexi quickly made her way over to Draco's lap, sitting across his legs with a smile. Her arm wrapped around his neck as she leaned back against his chest, "Were you waiting down here for me?" She asked jokingly. Draco always hated when she touched or sat near him, but she could tell he some what enjoyed playing along with her. The two had a strange relationship, but for the time being Lexi genuinely enjoyed it. Her eyes scanned over him and stopped at his. For such an asshole, he had the most gorgeous eyes. She could tell there was hate built up behind them as he stared at her. They were going to play with one another for the time being, but usually by the end of the day they were yelling down each others throats. The boy had an arrogance about him that Lexi hated more than anything. At the same time on those rare occasions when Draco flirted back with her, she would nearly give in once in a while. Lexi knew if she ever gave into him it would be nothing more than adding a notch to his bedpost for Draco, she was sure he had slept with every girl in Slytherin besides her. When she first met him, she had thought it over for a second, but she couldn't bear to give herself over to such a jerk.

Themanhad been sitting in the chair reading the paper about his favorite Quidditch team. It didn't hurt that his father happened to own majority share of them, but that was beside the point. Fact of the matter was, they had lost again and this is what made Draco rather upset. That was when Lexi had plopped down on his lap and ruined his train of thought. This morning, however, Draco was feeling particularly good, he had finally closed the deal with Ms. Pansy Parkinson after months of trying to convince her. It didn't take too long, but nonetheless Draco was full of spirit this morning. "I was wondering what smelt like that bastard Blaise, and I guess now I know," he said looking her up and down for just a moment before ripping what was left of his paper out from under her. He and Blaise Zabini were close, but they were always butting heads. He was actually gifted at Quidditch whereas Draco was just rich and had better things than everyone else. He was getting better though. There had been rumors going around the Slytherin Common room that Lexi and Blaise had had a little thing going, and he had heard it from the horses mouth himself that it was true. Matter of fact, Blaise couldn't hang out with him and Pansy last night because of Lexi and that allowed him to close the deal. He supposed that he should be thankful of her. At the moment though, he would have his fun. Not waiting for her to answer, he ran the outside of his hand against her cheek and smiled. "What a lucky guy that Blaise, a good romp in the hay you are I bet?" He said, more of a rhetorical question to himself. "Better hurry, I hear Blaise is coming." He said as he looked towards the door. While he and Pansy perhaps were starting up, Blaise and Lexi seemed to be an actual relationship. That was cute, he would have to get the details from him at Quidditch Practice later in the day. For now, Draco Malfoy was perfectly content.</s>

Fred Weasley grinned slightly as he examined his latest, perhaps greatest, creation. At first glance, it looked like a harmless little candy. At first taste, it even tasted like a harmless little candy. But this was most certainly no ordinary candy, and this was certainly not something that Fred would be suggesting to his twin that they put up for sale. Well...perhaps not immediately anyway. There was still one last thing left to do...test it. And Fred had the perfect subject in mind, his twin brother George. With a wicked grin, the 15-year-old turned to leave, heading out towards the Gryffindor bathrooms. George had gone to take a bath, and Fred was on his way to join him. "Hey!" Fred grinned as he entered the large bathroom, closing and almost invisibly locking the door behind him. George was the only one in the bathroom at the time, and they would need some privacy for this. "Here, made something for you to try," Fred tossed the candy at his twin brother, knowing few, if any, questions would be asked as to what it was. "It's a new candy flavour I came up with, give it a try." Of course, what Fred wasn't saying was that the candy was actually a new, incredibly potent aphrodisiac. Within minutes, if not sooner, of eating it, the eater would begin to feel intense, almost painful arousal, and it would become easy to manipulate them. And Fred had such plans to manipulate George....oh, he was going to have some fun tonight....

George grinned at his mirror image, "Took you long enough." He said as he caught the candy with a wet hand and unwrapped it, giving it a light sniff. "So what's it do?" He asked before innocently slipping it between his lips. The candy was sweet and faintly warm from whatever enchantment it held, and he swallowed it. He waited a moment, and nothing happened. "I think it's a dud," he said with a shrug, glancing up at his brother again. "Are you going to bathe too?" He asked, having noticed the locked door. "Why lock it? It's not like anyone's going to watch." He sunk under the water and pushed his flaming red hair back as he came up, his gaze moving back to his brother as he felt something stir in his lower stomach almost as if... He trailed a hand lower, the touch more pleasurable than it should have been against his slowly hardening length. He moved closer t the wall, hoping Fred wouldn't notice. He'd never hear the end of it otherwise. Of course, it occured to him briefly that the candy may have caused it, but that had never been a side affect before, and he couldn't see why his brother would make such a thing, much less try it out on his twin. The need grew stronger, what could he do? If he got out of the water Fred would notice. if he did anything to solve the... er.. 'growing' problem, he'd be too obvious, and if he stayed there... His fingertips brushed skin again, "Ah..." He couldn't hold in the small gasp. "Fred... what was... what was in that candy? I don't think it's supposed to have this kind of reaction..." he said, a blush spreading over his face and ears.</s>

Ginny Weasley sighed boredly as she sat on the Hogwarts Express, playing with a few strands of hair that were hanging down in front of her face. Her friends had all decided to up and leave her, having decided that now they were in third year and thirteen years old they were old enough to go and share cabins with the boys in order to shamelessly flirt with them. Ginny, however, had little interest in such things. Oh, she was interested in boys, but she didn't want to go chasing up and down the train for any boy who would look at her. Still, the disadvantage to staying behind meant she was all alone in the cabin near the back of the train. In the distance she could occasionally hear laughter and giggling over the noise of the train from a few carriages up ahead, but all she did was roll her eyes and return to staring out of the window. "Ugh... immature idiots," Ginny slumped her forehead against the cool glass as she stared through it boredly at the passing countryside. "Geez... this train ride is way more boring than I remember it being the first time. It seemed to be over in a flash then, now it's taking forever." The red-haired girl sighed again and closed her eyes as she attempted to take a nap, hoping it might make the trip pass a little faster.

A young man of about 17 sighed as he walked through the corridors of the Hogwarts Express, looking back at Hermione as she walked down the halls with some friends. Hmm. Needs a little work. He shook his head and continued to walk forward, dragging a large trunk behind himself as he searched for a compartment to sit inside. The muscular male had just come from America to the great UK less than 3 hours ago and was already dressed to impress, wearing a t-shirt one size too small to show off his muscular chest. The t-shirt had a picture of an outdated blue police box that said, I travel in style, referencing the long since canceled British tv show, Doctor Who. He pulled a pocket watch from the pocket of his blue jeans to check the time and then put it back into the tight jeans, which showed off the outline of his thick member. He cracked his neck and then walked into a compartment without knocking. He blinked as he noticed the little girl in the compartment. Oh wow. He took a step inside the compartment and said, Sorry. Don't mean to interrupt. I hope you won't mind if I join you in here. He didn't wait for her answer as he pulled his trunk in behind him and set it up on the seat next to him. He opened it up and pulled out a typewriter and set it on his lap as a hedgehog crawled up his back and sat on his shoulder. He looked over at her with a smile and said, My name is Joe Sims by the way. This wasn't entirely true. His name was Joseph Simpson and he was one of the wizarding world's most famous authors, mostly because of the fact that he had never been seen. His books weren't necessarily critically acclaimed but were popular for their simplistic writing style, evolving storyline and most importantly, the graphic scenes, which most older critics claimed were just an excuse to peddle more smut and violence to a younger generation. He had hidden from the likes of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, refusing them with the now famous Simpson quote, No interviews unless it's for the Quibbler.</s>

Chogave a soft sigh as she stood behind one of the many pillars of the Quidditch field. Ever since last year she had been stuck under the constant watch of Draco, who now ordered her to meet him. She received a letter from her parents saying that Draco's father had threatened them; she knew she had to follow his orders. She hated what was happening as she stood there leaning against the Ravenclaw colors, looking up at the grey clouds. It looked like it was about to rain, yet she wasn't sure what she should do. She knew though that no matter what she had to keep Draco happy, or her parents just might lose their jobs - or more than that. Her deep brown eyes scanned the school grounds once more. While she could hear the Slytherin team's shouts to one another as they practiced, she wasn't sure what she was to do. This wasn't something she was prepared for, even as her mind went through everything it could, she just didn't have anything that could change the tables around. If she told someone, bad things would happen to her family. She just couldn't do that to them. She knew, as the only child in her family and her mother already sick, they were dependent on her father's job. If Draco's father actually got him fired, things would get hard for her family. She'd most likely have to stop school or get a job during the weekends if the school allowed it. The wind blew as she closed her eyes against the cold. Already it was getting to be winter. She wasn't sure what or how things would go with Draco today, but she knew it would be the first step into hell that much she was sure of.

Cho Chang, Potter's little crush. He had tried to get into her pants the year before and Draco had been quite delighted to see the student he hated most fail so terrible. It was amusing as all hell, while Draco had been getting as much attention from the opposite sex as he wanted from third year on Potter was having trouble getting a date with a pretty girl in the year above them. Cho was lovely though, Draco couldn't deny that and there was the added bonus of her family being pure blooded back for multiple generations. The year before he had used a bit of leverage over one of her friends to force Cho to turn on Dumbledore's Army, this was of course while he was working for that old bitch Umbridge and practically running things in the school. This year he didn't have the same power but he was a prefect for his House and still had the power of his family name. Now he was going to take things further with Chang, he had a job that he needed to do which had been given to him by the Dark Lord himself, and Potter would no doubt try to get between him and the success. But if Potter was distracted by say, Chang teasing him and leading him on for the duration of the year things would go so much more smoothly... and of course Draco would be taking advantage of her himself. She was lovely, so much nicer than many of the ladies in his own house whom he could be fucking on a regular basis. With a smirk on his face he ended his own practice for Quidditch a little bit early, having seen Chang down below. Hello Cho. He greeted her as he approached, brushing his now mussed hair back from his eyes and holding his broom over his shoulder. At that moment he was acting like a perfect gentleman despite the fact that her family had been threatened to bring her here. Why don't we take a little walk? I think the things we need to discuss should be done in private.</s>

Voldemort smiled slightly as he stepped into the home, tilting his head at the Dursleys as he looked at the small child on the ground, walking over he gently touched the babe's stomach, smiling slightly as the baby grabbed his finger. It was a shame that he would destroy one child's innocence to get what he wanted. "You don't want him," he said, looking down at Harry. "I have a family who does." Darkness passed in that look, then gone as if it had never existed. "Sell him to me. I will pay any asking price you shall want, and he will be gone from your lives forever."

The Dursley's stared at him fearfully, Vernon fearfully stuttering that they would agree, that they wanted money, not that crappy wizard shit that he was certain the man had. And that they wanted a lot of it too, or they'd never keep quiet. Vernon knew a good deal when he saw one, though he had no idea who he was dealing with. As soon as they arranged an agreement, the muggle family was more than happy to be rid of their unwanted nephew. He was sent to the Malfoys, who eagerly accepted him, and turned him into a slave, taught to clean from the moment he could walk and talk, and that was how he lived. As he got older, he was expected to do more than just keep the house completely clean, and to cook the meals that the Malfoys ate. Harry only got the leftovers, but there was always plenty for him to eat. The house elves were more of a family to Harry than anyone else, and that was how he lived, as a house elf, and as a sex slave. Harry often frequented Lucius's bed, and even Narcissa's. Draco had an unusual fascination with older men, and left Harry alone save to torment him about not having any family, about being unwanted, anything really. Harry usually ignored him. The Malfoy's also moved from London so that no one would ask unwanted questions about the scrawny boy with the wide green eyes, that retained an unusual innocence. Though he rarely spoke, and couldn't read or write or do any sort of math, he was very good at the things he did know how to do, and while he wasn't allowed to do magic, he was practicing in the dark of the night where no one could see him. Despite having no family, he hoped that someday he might find someone who would take him away, and give him the home he'd always wanted. He just had to hope, and wait...and clean.</s>

Lucius had always been the top student at Hogwarts. Both in popularity and in studies. The teachers liked him because he was incredibly gifted, and really quite polite to their face. The other students liked him because he was rich, and always threw the best parties. They excused the fact that he was not nice to the people he did not like, especially since most of them passed through his scorn untouched. He reserved his anger for the outcasts, oddballs, and weirdos that tried to attend his school and hang out with his friends. Of course this was mostly reserved for the boys. They deserved all of his hate. The girls depended on how pretty they were. If they were cute, and sort of bookwormish, he would first try other things, and if they didn't work, he would treat them just like the weirdos. If they were sexy? He would charm them. That came easily. If they were ugly hags, he would treat them just like the boys. Truly, he was a bully, and the worst kind since he excelled at studies and very rarely got caught when he did bully. He was always quick-witted, and quick-worded. Rarely failing to find some excuse for anything that he did or was said to have done. Today was the first day of school, and he was excited to be back. Standing at the doorway to the dormitory rooms, he smiled at old friends, and glared at old enemies, but really it was the new crop of freshmen that caught his interest. Especially the girls. Ever since coming here, he had been infatuated with girls. Especially the shy, cute ones who didn't seem to want to admit that they were really pretty. When they blushed, or smiled, or even cried, that gave him all sorts of pleasure. Spotting a very cute, and very interesting, little thing, he left his perch, swooping in like an eagle. "Hello there," he said softly, his hand going to her hip while the other took her bag. "You look a little lost. I'm Lucius."

Lisa never imagined, not even in her bravest dreams, that someday she'll receive a letter from Hogwarts, inviting her to study wizardry. First she thought it was a stupid joke by her older sister who called her a witch just for fun, but as it appeared it wasn't one more foolish joke. Who could have ever guessed that Lisa, child from a casual family (They call them muggles in the magic world), could be a real witch? Surely, nobody. As well as nobody could lead her to the so-called Diagon Alley, which she couldn't find on city's map for the life of her, and it appeared to be the only place where she could buy books and uniform that she needed for studying in Hogwarts. But things seemed to work out as someday while walking down the London streets, a stranger invited her to the strange looking cafe named 'Leaky Cauldron'. Sure, Lisa would eventually run away once she heard such a suggestion from somebody she saw for the first time in her life, but as he told her that from there she might get into Diagon Alley, girl gave up and followed the stranger, still ready to call emergency if something went wrong. Yet he didn't lie - she really got into Diagon Alley, and really found everything she needed in there. Summer, still full of fear and doubts, has passed even faster than always, and school has started soon after. Before Lisa found Diagon Alley, she was totally sure it was such a stupid joke, but after actually finding all the needed books she understood that letter from Hogwarts was real after all, that's why she didn't turn around and go home once she saw platform number which didn't even exist. Indeed, it took her quite a long time to find it, and if she hadn't noticed some people disappearing after they've bumped into column between 10th and 9th platforms, Lisa would have been late to the Hogwarts express. Lisa's luck seemed to be endless - she found all the hidden things of this mysterious wizards world and actually reached castle, went through sorting (she got into Gryffindor) and now with other freshmen was heading to their bedrooms. Somebody stopped her, and Lisa turned around. Her eyes widened as she saw a blond-haired guy, obviously few years older than she is, standing in front of her. She didn't even get enough time to say anything, as she felt his hand sliding down to her hip. Lisa felt heat all over her cheeks and soon they were covered by a bright pink blush. "L...Lisa.." She said, her voice trebling and cracking a bit. Girl nodded a bit, instead of telling him that it was nice to meet him. "And I'm not lost thank you for care, though!" She quickly muttered, pushing his hand away. Seriously, what was he thinking? They'd just met and he was already touching her like this!</s>

Brandi sighed as she set her trunk down by the Hogwarts Express. She turned and looked at her parents. "Okay Dad, I'll be sure to owl you come Christmas time," she told him, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Mom, I'll make sure to let you know how my studies are going. But you know my marks are always good." She gave her Mom a kiss on the cheek. Then she knelt down to ruffle Lizzy's hair. Lizzy was only 10, so she had one more year to wait. "Aw, don't worry sis, I'll send you lots of owls!" she said. She watched as they left, then stood up and adjusted her tank top. Lizzy had grabbed it and pulled it off her shoulder on one side. She wasn't wearing a bra, as was her custom, so she made sure she had it on just like she liked it. She liked the low-cut tops and short skirts. It made the boys notice, and she liked that. Just as she turned to get on the train, she saw Draco Malfoy looking at her. She smiled and winked as she got on and found an empty cabin.

Draco scowled as he walked behind his parents as they headed towards the train. "Mother.. Father.. I am capable of going by myself," he said through his teeth. He closed his mouth when Lucius turned around, "Look Draco, I want to make this clear. I will not have a mudblood beat you in your classes." He hissed. Draco dug his nails into his fist and kept quiet. He looked up at his father, "I'm a prefect... father.... that means I am one of the best in my house." He said simply and fought back the urge to say more. Lucius smirked, "Ah, very well Draco. I expect you to win the quidditch cup.. since you are captain. Don't bring shame to the Malfoy name." Draco groaned and turned towards his mother, "I'll owl you when I settle down and keep you updated." He said and smiled. He glanced at his father and nodded before watching them leave. "About time," Draco muttered and looked around the crowds for his friends. He smirked when he saw Brandi. Damn she's hot, he thought and raised an eyebrow when she winked at him. He smirked and carried his trunk onto the train and headed towards the back in search of an empty cabin. He made a face when he realized they were all filled and smirked when he saw Brandi sitting alone. Draco slid the door open and sat down in front of her. He looked her up and down and smirked. "Not bad," he murmured under his breath and glanced at the door when it slid open. He smirked when Blaise walked in. He noticed Blaise's eyes wander towards Brandi and sat down next to her. "She's hot," he mouthed and Draco chuckled.</s>

Severus watched as both his daughter and Draco Malfoy were branded with the dark mark. The two were sixteen years old and Voldemort thought it fitting to make them both official Death Eaters. Severus cringed a little as Krys, his daughter, was branded; he had never wanted this for her, but ever since the Dark Lord found out that he had a child, he insisted that she become a Death Eater, and Dumbledore also insisted that she become one to protect Severus' cover. After the branding, Severus took his daughter into the sitting room and sat her down. "Krys," he said, "there's something you need to know." Krys nodded her head, still wearing a curious expression. "Do you remember how I told you your mother was killed in a Muggle prison?" Krys nodded again. "Well, I lied to you," Severus continued. "She is alive, and you will be meeting her soon. I had to tell you eventually because she was in fact in prison, but she has recently been freed, so to speak. I wanted you to hear it from me instead of finding out yourself." Krys listened as he spoke, and when he finished, she looked at him with anger. She hated the fact that she had been lied to, and even more that it was by her own father, whom she trusted. "I can't believe this," she snapped. "You lied to me! How could you?" Severus tried to say something in his defense, but Krys cut him off. "Don't even bother," she said. "I don't want to speak to you. I don't want to hear what you have to say. Hell, I don't even want to look at you right now." With that, she stood up and stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her. She sat down on the bed and sighed; she had been through so much, and now she found out she had been lied to her whole life by someone she thought she could trust. Severus sighed and stood up, knowing better than to try and talk to his daughter while she was like this. He made his way to Bellatrix's room and knocked on the door. "It's time," he stated, knowing she knew what he meant.

Bellatrix Lestrange, the most feared witch of the Wizarding World, escaped Azkaban prison with several others, thanks to the Dark Lord. Fourteen years in pain and fear, lost in the dark, she wanted three things most of all - freedom, the Dark Lord, and her family. Finally free, the Dark Lord returned, and after being dragged away from those she loved, Bellatrix arrived at the manor only a few days ago, weak and frail. Her younger sister Narcissa has been babying her, making sure she eats and rests, grooms herself, and suchlike. Bellatrix may have been beautiful before, but now she was a shell of her former self, hollow-cheeked, angular, skin and bones, and her hair a matted mess until her sister fixed it. The Dark Lord put Bellatrix on bed rest to build up her strength, for he knew that she was one of the most loyal, even after trying to find him and getting sent to prison and never giving up hope that he would return. Bellatrix lived through Azkaban, fell into a deep depression, for you see, Bellatrix did torture the Longbottoms till insanity took them while trying to find the Dark Lord. She didn't care that she was caught, but she cared deeply about being torn away from her family. Bella had a secret... she and Severus Snape were in love throughout Hogwarts, they were inseparable, until her parents forced her to marry Rudolphus Lestrange, which she did, but she didn't love him. Bellatrix continued to see Severus, though her husband knew of this and was upset about it, but couldn't do anything to stop her. Bellatrix became pregnant and had a beautiful baby girl. The Dark Lord fell two years later, and Bellatrix was ripped away from her lover and her baby, living with depression and madness, unaware of what Snape has told her daughter. Bellatrix was lying down in her bed, resting as ordered by her lord when she heard a knock on her door. Her heart raced, eyes wide and crazed, feeling like it had stopped. Then she heard his voice, relaxing, nodding her head walking over to the door. Still looking sickly and dead, yet still beautiful in a ghostly way, Bellatrix opened the door and looked upon Severus, so serious and sad, yet looking well at the same time. It was the first time she really looked upon him, feeling everything she once felt with him, her heart hurting still.</s>

Harry Potter couldn't help but notice that everyone else seemed to know what the party was actually in aid of. It had started as a few small groups, eating and drinking together... over the course of the afternoon more and more had joined, proclaiming it to be the day of various forgotten celebrations with their own strange traditions. Before anyone really knew what was going on, the Great Hall was awash with alcohol, music, dancing and several students who had simply passed out. All the houses were partying, the boundaries between houses seemingly forgotten for one night at least. It was actually quite nice to see... rivalries and hatreds mostly forgotten if only for a short while. The alcohol was most certainly helping with that of course. Harry had long since lost track of his friends. They were either partying somewhere in amongst the crowd, unconscious or had left the party for whatever reason. He, on the other hand, had no real intention of leaving just yet. For once in his life, Harry could just relax... just forget about everything... he was going to enjoy this to the fullest while he had the chance. He had lost track of how much he'd had to drink, plenty that was for sure. He knew his brain wasn't quite working the same way as usual, but he didn't care. With a grin, Harry downed another shot of Fire Whiskey, his fourth in a row, a cheer coming from the small group that had been watching. Then, triumphantly raising the empty Fire Whiskey bottle, Harry stumbled off into the crowd in search of another distraction, another piece of entertainment.

Draco was annoyed; he had joined this little party in hopes of enticing someone into his bed, but everyone was either too drunk to fuck or too ugly. He knew what holiday they were celebrating - from the ancient Pagan days it had fallen into disuse as unimportant, though many of the purebloods still celebrated it... in the manner it was meant to be celebrated. Draco was honestly just surprised that the teachers where letting this continue; hell, two or three of them had joined in on the drinking and flirting, pedophiles. At least there wasn't anyone younger than sixteen in the room, so mostly everyone was legal to drink, mostly. He was rather impressed at how well the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses were getting along; hell, Pansy and Longbottom were snogging in a corner. Alcohol really could fix anything. Draco himself wasn't drunk; he had a glass of firewhiskey in his hand, but he was a wine man by preference, and the firewhiskey was acrid and old, not good firewhiskey. He dumped the firewhiskey into a potted plant and moved over to a large crowd where people were cheering. Who in the world had invited Him!? For that matter, was Harry Potter honest-to-Merlin getting... no, not gettig, he WAS drunk. And now that he wasn't spitting stupidity and insults, Draco could see a remote cuteness about the drunken Harry Potter that was entirely too hard to ignore. He watched Harry stumble off and followed the other, catching Harry around the waist, pulling him tight into him, back to belly so that Draco's hard length was pressing into Harry's ass. "Hey, Potter," Draco growled seductively into the drunks ear, a hand sliding up Harry's shirt as he ground his cock into the others ass. "What say you and I go somewhere private?" he asked, giving the others nipples a small tweak. "Everyone says you're straight, and a virgin... I wonder how many of the rumors are true hmm?" he asked, carefully, very carefully, one step at a time he led Harry out of the Great Hall and into the hall, carefully leading him to the Room of Requirement. Hoping that Harry was too drunk to protest.</s>

The charity was relatively unknown, but it had already generated a lot of buzz. Nearly every celebrity, singer, activist, and heiress had heard of the company. Its mission was one that literally everyone could get behind: gathering funds for children suffering under repressive regimes. What made it all the more appealing was that it already had a stellar record and several important backers. A modeling campaign had gone out already, with all proceeds being donated to charity. Not simply part, which was traditional, but literally all proceeds. Naturally, this company garnered the attention of the younger stars, those still rising. In particular, the ever charitable Miss Emma Watson had heard of the company. She'd instructed her agents to contact the heads of the company, and connections were made. It turned out to be perfect timing: the company was planning a charity based photoshoot. The photos would be collected into various memorabilia, and these would be sold online. All proceeds would, of course, go to the charitable causes. Being a model of some acclaim herself, Emma had naturally volunteered to be among the models listed. She'd even used some of her pull to help pay for the shooting itself. Still, she'd been surprised when her contact had suggested a location she'd never heard of before. Apparently the studio wanted the utmost discretion. Since this was something Emma could certainly get behind, she'd agreed. Thus the pretty model was walking toward the mostly abandoned office building. Already Emma's shorn hair had been styled: done in that semi-messy look that gave her a tomboyish charm. She'd gone light on the makeup, nothing more than base, as was usual for a shoot. A light dress and a pair of simple sandals were all she wore, figuring that the director of the shoot would likely be the one selecting her true outfit. Thus the pretty girl entered, looking around and calling out, hoping that her driver had gotten the address correct.

Josh Black was literally Black. A renowned photographer who had been slowly rising up the ranks and now a well-known figure in the industry, shooting for high-end magazines on occasion. He was also a savvy businessman, investing his earnings from photography wisely and building connections to create an empire for himself. But more than anything, it was his latest charity venture that had increased his profile among the world's A-list celebrities. Not everything about the photoshoot was public or black and white, but the money going to the charity was very real and significant, and the secrecy surrounding it was just enough to keep the celebs coming back for more. The charity was doing so well that even Ms. Emma Watson came forward herself. A lot of the photoshoot went as planned, helping with the credibility and protecting against any rumors should something go wrong. But Josh knew that with Ms. Emma Watson, even without external pressure, he would push things further, to some hot, steamy conclusion. As he set things up for the shoot, he felt his groin tighten at the thought of what might happen next. Josh was quite tall at six feet. He was dressed in a casual jeans and shirt. The man was nearing forty, but his expensive looking camera hung from a strap around his slightly thick belly. The place inside was quite big and painted white, despite its abandoned look outside. Deep soft rugs covered the floors, and a huge, comfortable-looking black leather sofa sat in the backdrop. One side had a huge oak desk, simple yet very elegant-looking. There were other furniture pieces to help make different poses. It even had a very beautiful classy four-poster bed with white satin sheets. He had big plans for everything in the place. There was a door on one end leading to the private dressing room, which was filled with dresses and makeup. Another door led to some private part of the building, where Josh could use it for surprises for Ms. Watson. There were also of course fixtures for light and fan, and he had quite a few cameras and lenses lying in one worktable. He was fully ready and excited for the shoot when the bell chimed announcing her arrival. Josh opened the door and smiled warmly toward the beautiful young woman who stood before him. Looking at his watch, he softly laughed in his deep voice, "It's very nice to see you right on schedule, Ms. Watson. Come on in. I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place." He ushered her into the building as he spoke. "Thank you for wanting to help with the charity and footing the bill for the shoot," he said, appreciating her efforts. "I am Josh Black, the photographer and one of the masterminds behind the charity. Welcome to my studio." He introduced himself as he showed her around the place, which was tasteful and elegant, inviting and warm, made to make the woman relax and not worry about the location or absence of staff. "Before we do anything special, let me take some random shots of you in your dress. You look beautiful and natural enough already. So just pose yourself however and wherever you want. Get comfortable working with each other. We can start with casual shots, maybe you sitting comfortably on that ornate chair (high arm, wooden, a little vintage style) or just getting comfy on the sofa. Whatever works."</s>

It was a calm Saturday morning for the sixth years of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most everyone was at breakfast, enjoying the day off and the would be Hogsmead Weekend. Everyone was chattering excitedly as they ate their breakfast, but a few students were missing. Of the small number of missing students, only two were together. Luna Lovegood, and Cho Chang where locked in a disused classroom, though really, Luna should have known better than to simply physically lock the door. She should have magically locked the door too, how could she have known someone would interrupt? No one had ever interrupted her before, why would she have thought someone would now? Luna wasn't human, not by a long shot, no one suspected because she was so... strange, they just thought she was weird, talking about crumple-horned snorkstacks and things in the mistletoe... but she could simply see things that others couldn't, being what she was. She was bent over another woman, Cho Chang, who was moaning, loudly, arching off the table as Fluer thrust, fast and hard, deep into the other woman, her head tossed back as she cried out in extasy, fucking Cho as fast and hard as she pleased. Cho was one of her favorite meals, the woman was still torn up about Cedric, and threw herself into the coupling with such a frenzy that Luna could go days without having to feed again. Cho cried out in pain and pleasure as Luna leaned down and bit her shoulder, moaning and grunting as she fucked the other woman, panting and moaning as they both arched, and came hard, Luna gasping as the door swung open. Luna turned, her thick cock slipping free of Cho, spilling thick white seed across the woman's inner thighs, the sudden light from the hall filling the room, Cho shrieking in horror as she grabbed the blanket they had been fucking on, using it to cover herself as Luna turned and stared at the person who had interrupted them with large, slitted purple eyes that where anything but human, her lips thinning. ...Hello Harry, nice day we're having. she stated simply, blinking at him. She wondered how to contain the situation. She knew Harry was immune to the Imperio, which meant Obliviate only had a fifty-fifty chance of working. She could possibly use her allure to seduce him then and there, but that wouldn't stop him from finding a teacher, or telling everyone afterwords.

Harry had finished his breakfast and found himself alone in the hall. Hermione was off studying somewhere, Ron had insisted on staying in bed all day rather than coming down for breakfast, so Harry had been alone. Without the chatter of his friends, Harry had finished his breakfast in record time, suddenly finding himself with little or nothing to do. He had no intention of going to study with Hermione and he had no intention of just sitting in bed all day either. So, he had stood up from the table and left the hall alone, starting to wander the rather empty halls. A few students had begun to wander the grounds, but none the hallways or classrooms. Harry wasn't even sure why he was wandering them himself to be honest...but hey, at least it gave him some incredibly rare alone time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone with his thoughts like this....there had always been a voice in his ear...Ron or Hermione usually. This was rather...nice. As he wandered though, he could hear a slightly odd noise. It was almost like a voice, but rather different to someone talking....it was almost like a scream of some kind. With a gasp Harry took off into a run towards the source of the sound, thinking that someone might need help. Oh how wrong he was....if anything it was the exact opposite. When he first tried the door Harry found it locked, but he quickly pulled his wand and cast a simple spell to unlock it, with no magical protection at all. Well, that was a good sign at least. As soon as the door was unlocked Harry flung the door open and dashed into the room, wand ready, though as soon as he saw what was going on he froze up, gasping and his mouth dropping and hanging open. He just stared at the scene before him....Cho Chang bent over a desk naked, then shrieking and covering up with a blanket. It was Luna who drew Harry's attention far more however. He stared in amazement as he watched her....cock...slip from Cho's body, then spray a sea of cum across Cho's body, some of the desks as she turned and then the floor between her and Harry. He'd heard about spells or potions with such effects but...he'd never seen them 'in action' so to speak. "H-huh...?" Harry barely heard Luna talk. His attention was focused on her cock for a few moments before he slowly looked up. "L-Luna...? I...um...what....I...that is...." He was about to apologize, just assume it was a simple lesbian relationship and that the girls were using magic to spice things up a little. He had even taken a step back in order to leave. But then he spotted Luna's eyes, gasping as he noticed the purple slits. This was definitely no simple magic. "L-Luna! I...your eyes....who...what...." He glanced at Cho, then back to Luna again, the boy still clutching his wand tightly, the door still wide open behind him. His instinct told him to run, but shock was overriding that instinct....for now at least.</s>

Elena Nikolaivich smiled wanely as she walked through the halls of Riddle Manor, her toes curling inward a little as she felt the cold marble against her bare feet. While the woman was used to cold - she was from Moscow, where it snowed ten out of twelve months - but locked in Riddle Manor with a Dark Lord who dominated their world, it was making her even more aware of it than normal. Pausing as she caught sight of the handsome - the man had reverted to his more human looks the longer he was back - dark lord waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. "Good evening, my lord." She said softly, her voice holding that soft lilt of the North. Bracing herself as she thought about what she was going to find on the other side of the ballroom doors, in a room full of Death Eaters waiting to meet her. Lucius frowned softly as he leaned against the wall beside Severus, glancing over at him. "Do you know why we were summoned tonight?" He asked, wondering why he felt nervous and he knew it was because it was the first one that Draco had also been required to attend, and at seventeen his son still made him nervous even if he was a man grown.

Voldemort had indeed regained his former appearance, after years of struggle, Severus had finally pulled it off... and the bastard had been richly rewarded for his services. Voldemort was insane, and cruelly so, but he rewarded just as handsomely as he punished. The only thing that never changed were those lovely red eyes that he so adored; Snape had been rewarded even more for that. The only annoyance was that it took working over a period of years, or else his body would crash. No matter, he was nearly back to his perfect form, and once he was, it would be time to procure an heir. And only the best would do for Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin. "Good evening, my pet," Voldemort purred, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he examined her. There was no love for her, he saw her as little more than a baby carrier, and he knew that she knew it. She was like a pet... one that he didn't want to take care of. He took her hand and led her into the Grand Ballroom, Snape tensing next to Lucius as he shuddered. "I don't know," he muttered softly, examining the blonde delicacy that was being led about by Voldemort as if she were a rare trophy. In a way, she was. "Father." Draco murmured softly, approaching Lucius and Severus. Draco was handsome in ways that Lucius wasn't. Lucius was more fair, feminine, curved, and beautiful... Draco was firm, muscled, handsome, masculine, and perfect. Standing side by side, they were the most breathtaking people in the room... but no one would ever admit that aloud, especially not with Voldemort within hearing distance... and with the man's paranoia, he was always in hearing distance. Draco's eyes swept around the room, all the best Death Eaters were there. All of the Inner Circle and the Death Eaters who were being rewarded. Fifty faces, a hundred eyes trained on the prize that was clearly Voldemort's... and only Voldemort's. Said man, was enjoying himself, he was sweeping Elena around the room, introducing her as his... bride, though they had not been married. It was easy to see what he intended with her, and out of all the Death Eaters, only Bellatrix showed contempt for her. The rest, men and women alike, thought that Elena was being rewarded... after all, what greater honor was it to bear the future progeny of the Dark Lord? "Ah, Lucius... my favorite." Voldemort purred, smiling at the blond. "And Draco, my pet..." Draco shuddered, but managed to bow to the Lord as was expected. "My lord." Draco murmured, hoping to God the Dark Lord never turned gay. Draco would kill himself before then. "I have a task for you, the both of you." He pushed Elena forward. "I have not yet regained my former glory. Until that time, you will care for Elena. She is to remain pure, and untainted, unmarred in any way... I wish to break her body myself." He stated simply, licking his lips as he smiled at Elena, stroked her lips with his thumb, and purred deep in his throat. "You be good, and perhaps I will let you enjoy your first coupling. Misbehave... and I will make you suffer the agony of being taken raw and under the Cruciatus Curse." He growled before sweeping away, Draco shuddering again, swallowing thickly as he glanced at Elena, unable to help the pity in his eyes.</s>

"Fey, you should stop-"Scorpius malfoy smiled as he slipped into the seat next to his cousin, already reaching for the book she had propped up against her goblet. The slender blond man was beautiful, in the same way his father was beautiful, and just as arrogant. While he gave the appearance of being nicer then he'd been told his father had been at his age, there was a quiet cold viciousness that said he would do exactly whatever was needed to be done for his father or the dark order. "Scorpius, if you touch my book, I'm going to cut off your favorite body part and feed it to you," Feyn said, her voice cold and calm, the epitome of elegance and grace, even as she casually moved the book away from him, setting the closed book on the seat next to her before looking at her coldly beautiful cousin, before her eyes went to the rest of the great hall as she surveyed the rest of the students coming in. Unlike in the old years when you had to wait till the first day of school to come and get arranged in the dorms, Headmaster snape had allowed the more....slytherin loyal of the students to come early, while the more rebellious students or ones that were not decidely against the current dark order in charge had to wait till the evening before classes started to arrive. So, Scorpius and Feyn were already well arranged in the places in the dorms, once again claiming the best rooms in the dorm rooms before anyone else had a chance, and the rest would be left to defend for themselves. "Well, It looks like the animals have returned to the zoo."She muttered watching the students filtering into the room, looking bemused and interested. Because she enjoyed school, and no matter how much she hated to admit it, she liked having to fight Hugo Weasley for the best student award. The fact that she had lost every year, was still a bitter pill to swallow for the 17-year-old.

Hugo Weasley threw his old hand-me-down trunk onto his bed, trying not to give into his anger about getting the worst fucking room in the castle. Might as well sleep in the basement. Oh! Wait! He was already sleeping in the basement. Or at least what seemed like a basement. His father said that the tunnel-like dorm was where the Hufflepuff house used to stay in. Typical. All the Death Eaters' kids got to come in early and get the best rooms, most of them taking what used to be the Gryffindor Tower; Everyone knew the Gryffindor Tower (or what used to be Gryffindor Tower) was the best dormitory. It had a great view... Unpacking, Hugo pulled out his books and stacked them on his desk. Like every summer, he did all the reading in advance and his mother walked him through most of the spells. Because of this, he always came to school way ahead of the other students. Hell, he could do most of the Seventh Year spells by his Third Year. And that's how he liked it. Because no matter how privileged and pure-blooded those Death Eater kids were, they always had to know that it was Hugo Weasley that took home Top Student every year. In the back of their minds, they had to remember that they were inferior to him no matter how dark and pure they were. That always eased the bitterness he had about the shitty dorm. One unpacked, Hugo made his way to the Dining Hall. He was quite excited about the Welcome Feast, even if it was going to be the first one he would be attending without Rose. Evangeline "Evan" Prince walked through the Dining Hall, ignoring the stares she was receiving. Her head was tilted in a way that left her nose in the air; something common among most of the Death Eater students. However, she was far from that. No, her snobbiness was a defense tactic, not arrogance. She was scared to be at Hogwarts, because unlike Beauxbatons (before it was taken over), Hogwarts seemed to revolve most of its socializing based on the purity of one's blood. Evan only had a quarter of wizard blood, to be exact, and that's exactly why her father had instructed her to stay out of the way. He wasn't trying to be rude, but trying to protect her. If she got too close to one of them, they might ask questions, and if they asked questions... Well, she might not be dead, but she would be without the only person who ever truly cared about her - her father. Like instructed, Evangeline did not make eye contact with her father as she took a seat alone at the end of the Seventh Year table. Luckily, with him being Head Master, it wasn't hard for Evan to transfer, but it was going to be hard for her to fit in. After all, it was extremely rare for a student to transfer from another country's school, especially during Seventh Year... Sighing, she looked down at her class schedule, her dark eyebrows arched with a serious expression. There was no doubt that Evangeline had similar features as her father. Her hair was raven black, her skin was a very fair shade of ivory, and her eyes were a mysterious shade of dark brown. However, she had a beauty about her. Like her mother (whom she's never met) she had soft features and a sunny smile; a smile that had warmed her father's heart, whether he liked to admit it or not. She was a curvy girl, like her prostitute mother, with large breasts, wide hips, and a slender waist. Her hair went down her back, black as the feathers on a raven...</s>

Drake had been working for the company for more than three years now and in that time he had become one of their best agents for finding "targets" and retrieving them before training them and handing them over to be sold. He sat back in his chair, dressed up for the occasion. There was supposed to be a big party for celebrities, some A-list group who thought they were untouchable and wouldn't get caught or disappear like some B-list stars. Laughing, he got up and headed to his car, checking his trunk for all of the tools of his trade - ropes, gags, and chloroform. Getting into his car, he headed out from his house and into the city where the afterparty was being held. Drake was able to slip into the party, conning many people into thinking he was someone important. His dark black hair and dark eyes always gave him an air of mystery. He chatted with stars and producers alike as he looked around for his next targets. Who would the company want now? It had to be someone really at the A-list, someone who would actually cause a spark once she was kidnapped and never seen again. That would strike panic into them and make them know that they were not safe. He knew that they operated all around the world, some in shadows and some in plain sight of others. They were able to put themselves into top levels of government; who knew what position they held. But they were bringing these powerful women and taking them to become their slaves to show everyone they were truly in power.

The party was going full-swing, the guest celebrities drinking and dancing without a care in the world. Tyra Banks, Beyonce, Miley Cyrus, and Emma Watson were dancing together, teasing the men around them...and some of the women too, no doubt...while celebrating their latest projects being finished. "Nice moves!" Tyra called over to Emma. Emma and Miley were currently grinding up against each other, laughing each time they did it. Beyonce whirled around and started doing hip bumps with Tyra. Life was good, and would only get better from here. They were all at the top of their game. None of them noticed the dark man who moved through the party, sliding closer to them. A light sheen of sweat on his forehead, Miley yelled out, "I'm getting drinks! You three in?" The other three nodded, and they stepped off the dance floor to move over to the bar, each getting a glass of wine before turning and leaning against the bar casually, watching everything around them. All were dressed to kill, with tight, formfitting skirts and dresses, showing off every asset. They were the cream of the crop, the people that the world loved, and to their credit they rarely ended up in tabloids or magazines. Instead, they worked hard to keep their noses clean. Well, except for Tyra. Tyra enjoyed a good time more than the others, without a doubt.</s>

Lucius Malfoy smiled slightly as he looked down at the girl sitting on his floor, handcuffed but still looking calm. The woman looked too calm about her predicament for Lucius' liking. There was something disturbing about a twenty-year-old not screaming or fighting back, especially with this twenty-year-old. Even yards away from her, he could feel her magic wrapping around him, even without a spell; he could feel her presence in his house. He would have known she was there, even without seeing her. Nodding slightly, he reached down and pulled her to her feet, smiling slightly as she stumbled. "Come, girl," he said, pleased as her eyes flickered with fear. "You have someone to meet." Dancia Veko shuddered a little as she looked around the house as they headed for the entrance hall. Wondering how in the world she'd gotten into this mess. She hadn't meant to run into the Death Eater, nor had she expected the blond to be able to sense her from just walking into her. She'd managed to avoid capture for twelve years, but how could she know that Lucius had been the one Death Eater she'd never want to get near? Because he was intelligent enough to find her. Stumbling more as he jerked on her hands, off balance, she sent herself to her knees as he apparated them both into the meeting hall, staying where she was on the floor when she realized they were no longer alone. Lucius bowed slightly, smiling as he looked up at his lord, who sat at the table, holding the girl's hands to keep her where she was. "My lord, I have present for you," he said straightening.

Voldemort was well aware that the woman was now in the house. He could taste her magic, it was floating in the air like a delicate breeze. The others in the house were singularly unaware that there was something special in the house, unaware that the Dark Lord was about to be a very, very happy man. He simply sat there, listening to Pettigrew, sniveling slime that he was, whimper out his report. His deep crimson eyes flicked to the doorway as Lucius and the woman entered, and suddenly everyone was silent in shock. Most of them didn't understand what they were seeing; they simply thought that Lucius had brought a girl for their master to enjoy, they were jealous about it too because Lucius was the only one who could do such...personal things and get away with it, save for Severus Snape. Voldemort stood, as graceful as Malfoy was, though he was starting to look pale and sickly, he was still as handsome as he had been as a child, and just as eloquent. "Leave us," it wasn't a suggestion; the room emptied in an instant, several people shooting Lucius glares or glowers for being the Dark Lord's favorite. It was all they dared to do. The last person who had tried to curse Lucius had found himself tortured to death - and that was without the Dark Lord being there to see it happen. He'd just heard that Lucius had been attacked by one of his men, had torn through the minds of his followers to find out who, and then crucio'd him until he choked on his own screams and died. No one would dare attack Lucius, physically, verbally, or mentally. He stared at the woman for a long moment and then his long fingers stroked her cheek, as if touching a child, gentle, careful as if afraid he might break her. "So this is her. The Child of Magic that I have hunted for, for so long." Voldemort murmured, examining the handcuffs. "Muggle contraptions, Lucius?" Voldemort asked, sounding amused as he stroked the metal around her wrist, changing them into leather so they wouldn't cut into her flesh if she chose to struggle. And these way she couldn't pick the locks, many Muggles were capable of picking the locks. "Leave us, Lucius," Voldemort purred, cupping the woman's chin and forcing her to look up, to meet his crimson eyes. But he didn't try to probe her mind; no, he would use coercion and bribery. He wanted her with him willingly... or mostly willingly anyway. She would turn the tides of the war even more in his favor. "Come, child." He whispered, delight in every word. "You must be hungry, thirsty, tired, and sore. I will have food and drink brought up to your room, and a warm bath drawn for you." The Leather cuffs could not be removed, but with a twitch of his fingers, the chain connecting them broke, and long lines of Runes wrote themselves into the Leather. She was bound to the house, she couldn't leave, and she was incapable of harming Tom, Lucius, or Severus. Voldemort didn't bother protecting anyone else. He took her hands in his and gently helped her to her feet and led her to her room. The massive place was almost more of a hotel room - a fancy one. There was a small sitting area like a living room, a massive bed made of the softest downy feathers, and a deep elegant bathtub in the bathroom that would make soaking every inch of her body easy. There was even a seat in it, so if she fell asleep in the bath, she wouldn't slip down and drown. "These will be your rooms during your stay here. You may do whatever you like to them."</s>

Kiseki Uchiha The now seventeen year old unknown Uchiha let out an annoyed sigh. Impatiently waiting Magenkyos glanced towards her door ... if one could call it that though it felt more like a cell, a prison. She'd been kept here for her entire life. Or so it seemed. Biting down on her lower lip, her legs swung as she sat down upon her bed, which was actually a rather small cot. Not that she took up much space ... but still that only strengthened the thought and possibility she was but a prisoner here. Her eyes slowly closed as she hid the Magenkyos, a low sigh leaving as her legs ceased swinging.What's the point?She asked herself. Even to this day, she barely knew who she was; the most Kiseki had learned of herself was her first name. But something in her gut suggested ... she shouldn't be here, that she belonged somewhere else. But where? With whom?Her head shook, scoffing lowly as her eyes opened up once again, glaring at the door. The two men had been damn careful on ensuring she knew as little as possible about jutsus, it seemed. Otherwise, she would have been able to burn the door and this place down. But the lack of knowledge made the task of even escaping so much easier said than done. Her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to stay as patient as possible. Kisekihatedplaying this 'waiting game' of sorts and though she should be used to it, she wasn't at the same time. It was hard to be accustomed to such a thing when every single day, something different seemed to happen to her. Sometimes Kabuto would come in and take some blood ... others she'd get beaten for - to her knowledge - no reason whatsoever. They'd all but ensured no sharp objects were in the room with her so she never was able to defend herself. The abuse, she supposed, was almost never bad enough that Kabuto had use tons of medical ninjutsu upon her; but there had been a few times Orochimaru had gone that far on her. " .... Why me?"She asked herself, doubting she would get an answer. Another sigh left her as she finally laid down on her back, gazing up at the ceiling, her hands resting at her sides. She hated this place ... she'd give anything to be able to leave. Even if she didn't know where she could go to ... anywhere else must be better than here. Right?

Kabuto, be a dear and retrieve my ring," Orochimaru continued down the hallway as Kabuto turned back and began running to Orochimaru's suite. "Oh, Kabuto..." The words fell gracefully from his lips. "Yes, Master Orochimaru!" A wide, almost sarcastic smile crossed the snake lord's face as he slightly turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Do not run in the halls... someone could get hurt." Orochimaru laughed manically for around two seconds before turning back to his task. Kabuto bowed and proceeded to walk with a gallop to his master's suite. Orochimaru approached a large metal door with three separate vertical bars spaced out about a quarter of the way up the door. Inside, a little petite girl lay curled up in her flesh on the bed. No teddy bear to comfort her like most girls her age. Orochimaru's pale as death hand reached for the cold doorknob and with one big heave, the door jiggled open scratching on the floor as it moved. Kiseki jumped up in her little white dress, what was provided by Orochimaru, that and that only. "You're up!" Orochimaru laughed to himself with a smile still stained upon his face. He closed the door behind him, even louder being closed than when it was being opened. Kiseki covered her ears as a painful look was plastered upon her face. With the noise subsiding, Kiseki moved her hands back down to her sides. Orochimaru got closer, with each step of his, Kiseki looked more worried. First she looked at the floor, mainly at the feet of the pale horseman. Then her legs slightly bent at the knees. Finally, her arms landed on her chest as she looked petrified. Now, now, now, no need to be scared young child... I don't bite... Back in Orochimaru's suite, Kabuto is searching frantically for Orochimaru's ring which he specifically asked for. He tries not to make a mess, worrying about what Lord Orochimaru would do to him if he found out that he had lost the ring. He lifts a pile of scrolls off of his workbench and underneath is a pile of rings! Must be about 50 at least. All different shapes and sizes, Kabuto tries to space them out on the bench. At the bottom, Kabuto notices something white and flat. It's a sheet of paper... he simply peels it from under the rings. It simply reads: Have Fun!/ Back in the chamber, Orochimaru is standing right in front of Kiseki. He gently bends down and looks at her, face to face. A wider smile emerges as he brings up one of his handless might I add. One finger opens from his fist and he presses it on Kiseki's smooth innocent skin. He attempts to be gentle, stroking her cute face, but she is too overcome with fear to care. His finger travels further down off her face. The finger travels her neck and reaches her pertruding shoulder bones. He continues down as his finger moves over Kiseki's breast and gently runs over her nipple. His eye's follow his finger down as he compensates for his height by bending down even further to complete her body and stroke her long leg. With his finger on her ankle, he turns his head back to her face and manically smiles. How are you princess?</s>

BELLARILEYTrainers. The world appeared to revolve around those trainers as they seemed to hold the key to the future of the world. They explored uncharted territories, seeking out new and undiscovered Pokemon. Yet, there still existed a region unknown to the vast majority, and though they possessed advanced technology, they lived in a society that resembled Medieval times, ruled over by kings and queens who held strong and just rule. Across the sea, there existed a place that would amaze even the greatest of scholars, a place known as the 'Alvia Region'. A mythical place where Pokemon from all other regions could be found, within an enormous island nation. This region was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. However, even in the brightest of places, darkness would always emerge. With no other kings and queens near, the royal family married off their children into the family to keep the gene pool pure. The present king and queen had only one child, a daughter named Bellariley. It was expected for when she came of age, seventeen, she would marry. But soon after her marriage, she bore no desire to do so. She had another passion - her love for Pokemon. She heard of Trainers who raised and battled their Pokemon, achieved Gym Badges from battling Gym Leaders, and entered grand arenas for battles to become a Pokemon Master. There were also those who did not always battle their Pokemon but used them in beauty pageants and competitions. She desired to explore beyond the castle walls, to become a Trainer with her beloved Pokemon. Her parents knew this and attempted to accommodate it within the castle walls by providing mock battles and competitions. However, this did not fully curb her desire nor sate it. Struggling with not wanting to leave her own and most prized possession behind, the King and Queen eventually succumbed. They knew their daughter would be miserable if confined to the castle walls and allowed her to go on mini-adventures. An elite guard accompanied Bellariley to ensure her safety. Her Pokemon, Jolteon, Ninetails, Rapidash, and Scyther, were skilled and trained thanks to the mock battles and competitions they underwent. Bellariley had been eager the days leading up to her grand adventure, and the morning it finally arrived, she couldn't have been more thrilled. Even the company of the Elite Guard didn't bother her; she had found favor with that particular guard. Her personality possessed a nature that made it hard for someone not to like her. Her heart was grand and kind, too big for her chest. She was a petite girl, standing at four-foot-eleven, with a thin yet toned stomach, smooth flesh that was gently kissed by the sun, not pale nor dark but a fair tone between. Her breasts were amply rounded and bouncy, minimally above average in their descent size. The rest of her body possessed modest and small curves, enough to provide her with a strong feminine, young woman appearance. Her eyes were a deep teal blue color in nature, possessing a certain glow of innocence and kindness to them. Chesnut hair was layered and at a short length that fell nicely around her head, framing her face perfectly. Bangs reached down to caress below her eyebrows, and two thick locks on either side of her bangs extended down past the rest of the length to reach to her collarbones. It was only three days into their journey when a dark tragedy reared its ugly head. Bellariley and her Elite Guard were attacked one night. Leaving the Guard for dead, the group took Bellariley as a captive. Unable to release her Pokemon for help, she appeared helpless. Yet things were not always as they seemed as she managed to struggle free from the man's arms. Fate still appeared cruel as her freedom came with no ease. With eyes wide, Bellariley found herself falling off the side of a rigid cliff. It was as though things moved within slow motion as she began to fall, her arm extended out as she reached for something to grab. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as a thought crossed her mind: her Pokemon. She did not wish harm to come to them. Reaching into the pouch she had carried that she had managed to snatch from one of her captives before falling, her hands clutched onto five spheres, tenderly holding them in security. Soon darkness swept over as she was sure her death imminent, and she prayed for the protection of her beloved Pokemon. Slowly, teal-blue eyes opened, wincing as they blinked several times as pupils constricted and dilated to adjust to the light. It was as though light was completely foreign to them, seemingly entirely unfamiliar to them. Eyes quickly closed as the seventeen year-old felt her head throbbing and immediately scraped hands reached to cup the sides of it. The pain she felt within her head was little less than the pain she felt coursing through the rest of her body as it writhed in ache. The smell of a hearty stew wafted through the air. The sound of a slight breeze blowing through the trees, only being drowned out by the sound of axe to wood. As she slowly sat up in the bed she had been laid, a white sheet fell from her bosom and landed ruffled upon her lap. She was clad in a white mini dress, thin straps supporting the dress up as it clung tightly to her frame. It was made of fine fabric, seemingly expensive in taste. It should have been familiar to her, but it was foreign to her. Steadily, the throbbing began to cease, but the reminder of her body's pain remained constant. As she looked around the room, she could see she was in a wooden cabin. Her hair was bed ridden, a sign she had not left the bed in quite some time. The sound of snorts and neighs came from outside, the sound of a companion she did not remember. It seemed agitated and bitter, yet at the same time seemingly excepting and tolerant of something. It was unclear to the young lady to why she could understand the feelings of this creature outside, nor the strange connection she appeared to possess with it. Her eyes soon drifted to a chain, white gold bracelet around her wrist. She raised her left wrist to better examine the fine jewelry. Embedded into a heart-shaped charm was the name, 'Bellariley'. She was curious in regards to the name. As a sudden imaged flashed of a finely jeweled and dressed hand placed the bracelet around a child's wrist, she shook her head. It was hazy and her head began to throb even further as she gave a faint whimper of her pain. Her eyes once more settled upon something beside the bed upon a wooden chair. It was a tanned, leather pouch with four Pokballs, one of which opened and emptied. The pain soon settled and she was left staring with a blank stare around the room, bewilderment to who exactly and where she was. There was a sudden 'click' sound as the doorknob to the room began to turn, that snapping her from her blank stare as she stared towards the door.

The gentle sway of the trees broke the stillness of the night, creating a soothing melody for all those animals sleeping. Yet still all seemed quiet, calm, a night of true peacefulness. Yet one sound began to break the peacefulness. A sad melody began to waft through the air, arousing the attention of many sleeping Pokmon as well as the nocturnal ones. It was a gentle and kind tune, yet enriched in the notes was such a sad tune. Near a clearing close to the base of the mountain side sat a single young woman upon the stump of a great old tree. One that had been destroyed twelve years ago by poachers seeking the Pokmon who made it their home. Little did they understand the importance of this tree. Yet as it died, much sadness came to the forest, yet as all things the forest continued on even without its ancient child. Yet it was clear that the child of the forest was not yet forgotten by all. This young woman with skin pale and white, she seemed to glisten in the moonlight as if brimming with a power beyond that of any human. Her hair, green as the leaves of the forest in spring, with a ponytail that was red as blood. Her attire was strangely reminiscent to that of a Xatu. Which many of the Pokmon first mistook her for. Her eyes golden like a freshly polished coin, and her face never changed from that blank expression. Yet though her expression never changed, one could simply feel the emotions streaming off of her. A sadness that was unbound. Upon her lap an Eevee lay quietly asleep, behind her laid a little Zorua watching the moon as she played. Seeming enchanted by the music. At her feet lay an unusual Growlithe, its fur black as night unlike that of normal growlithe's which are usually red. This Growlithe watched all approaching pokemon with a warning glare. It was abundantly clear that it would guard this woman with its life. In the tree above watched a strange pokemon for this area, a Skarmory, which eyed everything with weary eyes. Within the girl's hand was but a violin, causing all sad melodies. She played a song that only she knew, for she had written it, calling it "What Child Is This?" She had written it for the tree that she sat upon, unaware of how much the meaning was about to change. As she continued to play without a care in the world, her concert for the pokemon of the forest was cut short, as the crashing and breaking of tree branches. Like a stampede, the pokemon scattered to the four winds in fear. Eevees, Growlithes, Zoras, and even the Skarmories all took up defensive positions around the girl. All seeming extremely protective of her. Setting her Violin down upon the tree stump she stood. Only standing at five-foot-two, she small petite frame hidden by her clothes well enough to make it hard to tell how shapely she was, but showed enough that her womanly curves were apparent enough to lightly show. Quietly she motioned her little 'Guards' to move. Without a word the five of them traveled towards the source of the sound. What she saw surprised her. The place was clearly where whatever it was had fallen. What she found was a Rapidash nudging a body of a young women covered in dirt and leaves. Blood was pooling around her causing the dirt to discolor and turn to mud. There was a nasty wound on her head, and as for the rest of her, it seemed to be just cuts and scrapes, but she could tell there was some internal injury's. Perhaps a bit of internal bleeding as well. This girl needed treatment, and quickly or she wouldn't survive. By her observations already she had broken two rips and fractured her arm. With today's technology that could be healed within two days time but that blood loss was a problem. It did not take long for the Rapidash to take notice of her and her little group. Rearing up and naying it gave a warning and poised to attack. Her little group jumped in front of her and each seemed well intent to beat the rapidash into submission if needed. The young women walked in front of her guards and right up to the rapidash setting her hand upon it's cheek despite it's attempts to bite her. "Calm yourself, I do not intend to hurt you, or your friend. Your friend is in a very dangerous condition. As you can see she has a wound on her head and many cuts. She likely has some internal injury's, if she doesn't get her wounds treated soon she will die." The young women spoke, her expression did not change but her voice. A musical tune to her words, and such a concern and gentleness from her showed true to her emotions. She did not lie to this Pokmon, looking him directly in the eyes. "I will not hurt her if you let me, I will help you," she spoke, never breaking eye contact with Rapidash who glared at her, snorting before backing away to allow her to approach Bellariley. As soon as she was allowed to, she rushed to Bellariley, taking a knee next to her. Without a moment's hesitation, she lifted her shirt and began lightly pressing against her bare skin. Rapidash nearly had a heart attack, almost attacking her. If it wasn't for Skarmory landing on Rapidash and pinning its head to the ground with its talons. "Stop fretting, I am checking if she has any broken ribs," she commented to Rapidash, and without much delay, she pushed twice on one spot. "Sora! Pick up this girl and put her on her friend's back. Zorie, use Transform and transform into Rapidash. We have to get her home now!" The urgency in her voice made things very clear. Without a single argument, they did as they were told. Sora, the Skarmory, released Rapidash and moved to Bellariley, gently picking her up. Making careful and easy flaps of its wings as it moved her onto the back of Rapidash. The young women helped get her situated. "Sora keep her steady on its back as we ride," the woman said, "we can't let her fall off. Shadow, Vee, you two get my Violin and backpack from the Old One, we will meet you back at home." They spoke before rushing to Zorie who was now a Rapidash. She leaped onto her back, and without a single moment of hesitation, off they went. The sense of tension was intense as the four raced against time. Zorie and the women guided Rapidash in the right direction. Within twelve minutes they reached a simple cabin in the woods. All was quiet as the young women leaped from Zorie's back and rushed to the door. The clattering of bottles echoed as Rapidash pranced up. Quickly she rushed out with a spray bottle of some purple liquid. Rushing to Bellariley, she began spraying her wounds. This would cause her great pain. Rapidash knew she was in pain and snipped at the women who whacked him quite hard and continued spraying her wounds. The liquid bubbled on the wounds for a few moments before stopping. The blood stopped flowing; it was a crude emergency treatment for the blood to stop. It wouldn't last long but she had to stop her from losing anymore blood. "Zorie, transform into me, lets her inside and begin work on her." She spoke as Zorie did as she was asked and then helped her move Bellariley inside. The two slammed the door and began the tiresome work. An hour passed, then two, then three, and no one came out. Five hours passed and the door creaked open, and out walked Zorie in her natural form. Letting them know that she was stable before going back in to rejoin her mistress. In a chair next to Bellariley, who was now dressed in a simple white dress, sat the young woman who had saved her. An IV drip hung from each arm, pumping blood from one girl to another. "She was lucky we found her when we did," she said, gesturing to the tubes. "If we had arrived even a few minutes later, she would have died. And even more surprising is..." She paused for a moment, looking at the medical tools on a nearby tray. "Her blood type matches yours." She sighed, shaking her head. "You know you won'll be able to go the rest of your life without using your talents again." A small voice came from beneath her, causing her gaze to shift downward to Zorie. "You can run from your talents, but you can't stop yourself, Elera," Zorie spoke, to what many would consider a great surprise. But considering what a Zorua was, it wasn't hard to believe that it could mimic and then understand the human language. Elara sighed and said nothing, only looking over at Bellariley gently reaching up with her free hand stroking her cheek before shaking her head. Hours passed as Elara fell asleep, and the rays of sun awoke her. She went on her daily routine and the girl did not wake up, again the next day she did not awaken. On the third day she was outside with Zorie while she was settling a dispute between shadow and Rapidash. Elara was cutting wood for the fire so she could cook and keep the house warm. She found cooking over a fire made some foods just taste better. Despite the fact her home had all the modern appliances, and ran off a generator, she mostly kept to doing things the old ways. A hermit as she was avoided having to deal with people as much as possible. She had even gone so far as to make Zorie go for her into town. She had a well-stocked garden which she maintained so she had food and only needed to go for things she couldn't just grow. Grabbing a few logs she made her way back to the door inside. The three of them were still arguing, so she felt it best to leave them alone. Opening the door and stepping in she didn't even notice that Bellariley had awoken till after she sat down the cut logs and turned around. "Ah! So you are finally awake. Surprising you woke up this soon, I expected you to remain in a coma for a good long while. But it is good to see that you have awoken." She spoke in the musical tone that hinted at pride and happiness at the fact she awakened. Without saying anything else she moved to Bellariley and began doing basic tests like seeing how her pupils dilated checking her pulse. Then without warning her hands snaked into Bellariley's dress and pressing against her body gently making sure everything was ok. "Well looks like the internal issues are alright now, good that the medication still has the good ol kick to it. Seems as though your well enough to be moving around, though your body will hurt for quite a while. Miss Bellariley. Of course assuming the name on your bracelet is your name. You seem too young to have a child after all." Elara spoke calmly as she moved to the stew that was boiling. It needed to be stirred, but at least now she would actually have a guest who talked back. Well other than Zorie, since Zorie normally didn't like talking with her. She wasn't the best conversationalist.</s>

Professor Severus Snape was sick of it, tired of everything. For years now, every day he had risked his life. Always the chance he could be caught out, always the chance his many secrets could be discovered. And what had he got from all this? What possible reward did he get? Nobody knew of everything he had done to safeguard them. Everyone simply hated him, suspected him, accused him of being a spy or a traitor. There was no reward for him, nothing for him to fight for, yet he fought anyway for some reason. Even the Slytherin's themselves had grown somewhat distrustful of Snape as of late, though that was probably more to do with him showing less favoritism toward them over the other houses this term. With another glance at the clock, Snape finally let out a silent sigh of relief. It was Friday and classes were finally over. "Alright," he walked around to the front of the classroom, standing in front of his desk, arms folded in his usual intimidating stance. "Homework for this weekend...you are to read Chapters 20 through 30 of your textbooks. I expect a detailed summary of those chapters on my desk by Monday morning..." There was a collective groan from the fifth year class, though when Snape narrowed his eyes, the groan was cut short. "Any further outbursts and I will add another five chapters....now." The tall man turned his back to the class, withdrawing his wand from his sleeve to begin tidying his desk.

Fala thought of Snape as an interesting person and attractive as well. But he was her teacher, nothing would ever happen outside her daydreams and fantasies, at least that's what she thought. Focusing around him was hard enough on itself, but she had never really had trouble with potions. She had also thought that her crush would pass, it had started in her second year, it hadn't passed yet. The fifteen-year-old stood about 5'8" tall and was Native American. For reasons she didn't know, her parents had moved to England. A wand had in the beginning proven to be a pain in the ass, but herbology, potions, and later care for magical creatures had been a walk in the park and classes that only required academics such as history of magic and the theoretical side of every course weren't that difficult either. But the practical side of charms, transfiguration, and defense against the dark arts had been hard in the beginning, but were going alright now. Flitwick, McGonagall, and whatever had to pass for a defense against the dark arts teacher had shown patience, even last year's joke of Lockheart had proven very willing to help, though last year it was the students in the year above her that had helped her most, Lockheart truly had been a joke. Fala was already looking a lot like a woman, with great curves. DD breasts, round ass, those things had gotten boys way too excited in her opinion. She didn't want a boy, she didn't need a boy, she needed a man. Her long black hair she always wore in a braid, that nearly reached her waist, she had big dark chocolate brown eyes, full red lips, and a well-defined jawline. The fifth-year Slytherin was one of few if not the only one who didn't complain about the homework assignment and always had a front row seat in potions. Though she had tried to hide her crush from him, she had a feeling he had caught on sometime in the last two years.</s>

Eva was fighting a feral Nidoking, but was losing badly. She had used up most of her strength, and had only one last move left. "Flare Blitz!" she charged at the Nidoking, hitting it head-on, but was pushed back, falling to the ground. "Damn it..." she said weakly. Eva tried to stand back up, but couldn't. She was going to be killed... and it was going to be painful.

A young Pokegirl would run out of the grass nearby and use Water Pulse at the Nidoking, sending it flying backward and smiling as it growled at her. She smirked and turned around, slamming an Iron Tail into the male Pokemon, sending it flying through a tree in a daze. She grabbed the poor girl who was lying on the ground and picked her up, running off with her. They would soon reach her cave. She sighed and laid the girl on a bed of grass, watching her until she woke up.</s>

Jake Blaze smiled as he set up camp. Jake was a young man of 21 years old, and he was a Pokmon trainer. He had flame-red hair that fell to his neck, and ice-blue eyes. He wore a red T-shirt, jeans, and a black leather jacket. He smiled and released his six Pokmon - his "lovely girls."

The six Pokmon girls, all of Eevee evolutions, came out of their Pokeballs as Jake threw them out. An Eevee, who was the newest and youngest of the six, as well as Umbreon, Espeon, Flareon, Vaporeon, and Jolteon came out either stretching or yawning. These Pokmon had the body of a thin, curvy human female. Umbreon, Flareon, Espeon all had large breasts while Eevee, Vaporeon, and Jolteon had round rear ends.</s>

The creature that had attacked were known as Dark stalkers, they were powerful creatures who could summon darkness at will and could take on the form of anyone they came across. As the royals would wait for their fate, something else was happening outside that no one had been ready for, The Sidoon kingdom that had won were now being destroyed themselves by the Dark Stalkers who left none of them alive. After a long time, the leader of the Dark Stalker came into the throne room and threw the head of the Sidoon commanders and the royal family at the King and Queen feet this cause the guards that were in the courtroom to react but they too were soon killed by the other dark stalkers. He was a tall and very powerful monster with Red hair and black clothes, he had wolf like fangs and claws which were covered in blood which he wiped clean on one of the royal pillows before he sat down in the royal throne and faced the king and queen. "You humans make me sick to my stomach, always wanting this and that. Your never happy with your life so you always want more. I am Samuel Hellrin, Alpha and commander of the Dark Stalkers" He told them in a calm almost charming voice. He looked at his 20 members of his pack, there was a mixture of both males and females. He then looked at the princess who was there with her parents and he stood up and walked to her. He looked into her burning eyes and smiled as he said "I like you already". He then licked her cheek and rubbed one of her covered breasts knowing she could do nothing to defend herself before he left her alone to sit on the throne once more. "King and Queen Fenalies of the Orre Kingdom, you are free to rule this kingdom now I have no use for either of you. But I will be taking control of the Sidoon kingdom, their entire royal family and knights are dead killed by the Stalker's I left there. We shall leave your kingdom alone as you will with our but your daughter will come with me and be my slave/queen of the Sidoon kingdom after all we don't know everything about ruling and I want to have something to pleasure me after a long hard day and to give me some advice of ruling, if you refuse then the last thing you will see is me raping your daughter in front of you before you are killed by the executioners" He told them in a serious tone considering the death and destruction that surrounded them, it was clear he would carry out his threat. He made them look at the two Stalker he had scythes in their hands as their claws had been broken during the battle.</s>

Silis was following a large Imperial force. Apparently they were following a single target, most likely a Jedi or two. They were having obvious trouble catching them, and if he did, there would probably be a large reward for him. The Trandoshan liked large rewards. Besides, even if he didn't catch the big prize, there was the possibility of decent supplies to scavenge after the battle.

It had been months since the fall of the Jedi Temple on Ossus, and Jaria Kathson had finally started to feel safe. She had been away on assignment with Master Krona when the attack had occurred, but both of them had felt the great disturbance in the Force as so many of their friends had died at the hands of the new Sith Empire. They had fled to the out-of-the-way system of Alus to try and hide until they could find other Jedi that had escaped. The Force had guided them to Alus 4, where the inheritance had quickly took them in and hid them in a village miles from the main spaceport. There, the two of them had found peace and quiet to wait for the Force to tell them what to do next. Jaria liked Alus 4. The sun was almost the same color as her home world of Klameda, which made the seasons and temperature close enough to make her think of home. Her home world hadn't looked the way she had remembered it as a child, thanks to the Yuuzhan Vong War over a hundred years ago, making the Klamedians have to live in domes to survive the toxic environment. Through the decades, the Klamedian scientists had restored the hair on their head, eyebrows, and eyelashes, but still hadn't found a way to make any of the rest start to grow in their race. After the success of the Ossus Project, Klameda was one of the new planets asking for Vong terraforming, and the people of Klameda were hopeful that the new terraforming would bring it back to its former beauty. It had worked at first, and Jaria enjoyed the renewed planet before she left for the Jedi Academy. But after the terraforming had gone horribly wrong, the Klamedian people had to return to their domes to survive the new Vong treachery, and soon after cut off relations with the new Republic. That was the last Jaria had heard from her family. The morning was beautiful, so Jaria didn't mind when her master had sent her out to meditate before breakfast. The last two days, she had been getting feelings that something wasn't right, but her master had thought she was letting her emotions control her again. That was her biggest problem with her Jedi training - her emotions. When she was happy or at peace, they worked fine, but when she felt fear or anger, her Force talent would manifest in odd ways. So, when she showed agitation, her master would send her away to calm herself. Having finished her meditation, Jaria walked back from the field she had mediated in. She had some fresh flowers she had picked for the kitchen and a smile on her pretty young face. Humming as she walked, she waved and said hello to some of the people in the village as she made her way toward the villa she shared with her master. It wasn't a large villa, but it was a nice place to live. Rounding a corner, she saw the villa ahead, the sun catching in her light blue eyes, making them sparkle. She looked down at the flowers and smelled them, hoping her master would like them. But as her light blue eyes looked up, she felt something hit her like a fist. It wasn't physical, but a tremor in the Force. Horror gripped her heart as she started to run towards the villa, screaming for her master. But before she was halfway to the front door, what had made the tremor in the Force made itself real as a large blaster bolt slammed into the top of the villa. The next thing that Jaira knew was her body flying backwards as the villa exploded in flame and bits of duracrete. Jaria felt a burning pain in her thigh, but before she could scream, she landed hard on the stone road in front of the now-ruined villa. The last thing Jari heard before the darkness of unconsciousness took her was the screams of wounded villagers and the scream of TIE fighters.</s>

It had been a month or so since the incident with the Curative tonic, and Flim and Flam had nothing to show for it anymore except for bottles upon bottles of apple-and-beet juice. There was nothing more the two brothers hated right now than the fact that they had failed yet again thanks to an orange-colored farm pony. It was a rather warm summer night as they walked up to the barn door. The two salesmen looked pathetic. They were more or less wanted con men now, and had been kept out of most towns because of their conduct. When they had once introduced themselves as the legendary Flim Flam Brothers, they were now just that - legendarily infamous. Knocking lightly on the door to the farm home, the two brothers passed a quick look at one another and slowly removed their hats. Waiting for the mare who had caused them all of this strife, and all of their problems.

Applejack was worn out as she sat there with her jeans hugging to her shapely legs, her flannel shirt tied up under her breasts. Her long blonde hair was braided away from her face, but just as she was about to take off her boots, she heard a faint knock. Big Mac wasn't in the storage barn, so it couldn't have been him. She reached the door to see the FlimFlam twins standing there, looking like they had been caught in a dragon migration. Smiling, she leaned against the half-open door, her breasts pushing up slightly. "Howdy, boys," she said, smirking. "What can I do you for?" She knew they had fucked up, but why were they here? They had tried to destroy her family's farm on several occasions. "Applejack, who is it?" Applebloom stepped out of the kitchen in her shorts and simple shirt. "Nothing you should worry about, Sugar Cube," she called to her little sister before turning back to the twins. Slowly, she stepped out and closed the door behind her. "What do you two want?"</s>

And so the journey begins...

The seedy part of town... People didn't look at you like you didn't fit in. They wondered what your business was, what they could get from you, and how best to go about getting it. Despite what sheep thought... these parts of town were a necessary evil. A single destination for the vices of a city to be kept under careful watch from the shadows, and for the population to blow off steam. These places were usually filled with beautiful women, plentiful booze, and a rockin hard beat... all three of which Fang was on the prowl for. If not the former than certainly the latter two. She checked her image in the ratty mirror she had only minutes ago wiped a decade of dust from. "Damn, ya look good," she told her reflection, her own words drawing a salacious smile across full sensual lips. She ran a hand through the unruly mane of her hair and moved to pick up her leather jacket with its crimson arm band on her left upper arm. A train and fifteen minutes later she was a block and a half away from The Dive... and already she could feel the beat of the music like a pulse on her tongue. It drew a wolfs smile across her lips as she stepped out from the shadows and sauntered her way up the walk, she passed the end of the line with its office women come vixens. "Ladies, looking hot." She said and gave a hearty chuckle as someone scoffed. She didn't pause to find out if it had been male or female. Coming to the hefty front guard she stopped in front of him pulled her jacket back to reveal the skin tight muscle shirt clinging to her person, and the broken and shattered brand of a L'cie. He nodded to her and unhooked the chain that blocked admittance into The Dive. "It's full tonight, so behave yourself." He said to her as he had said to every one of the L'cie who had entered the club tonight. "Hey... we been here two hours man." The bouncer clipped the chain and crossed meaty arms over his mostly nude chest. "You know how it works, Freaks get a free pass." He said to the disgruntled man. "You go in when there is room, not until." Fang thought about seeing what would happen as the man made a rude gesture but the heavy pulse was too seductive tonight... it throbbed like a lover's caress against her skin... and she wanted to bathe in it tonight. Ducking inside she paused at the doorway as her senses were assaulted. The Dive was a mixed nightclub, playing heavy raw music just the way she liked it, and trading waved entry fees and half priced drinks to draw L'cie like herself so that normals could get their rocks off with the "dangerous crowd". Fang laughed at that the first time she found out, because not all L'cie were inherently dangerous, or gifted, like a muscle their abilities took practice, use, and purpose... A very LARGE percent of L'cie were non combatants and no more dangerous than a normal person. Their abilities and focus having nothing to do with violence, but it didn't sell space in a seedy nightclub if you were told you were bumpin' with coordinators, gophers, and glorified lost and found clerks... As her eyes adjusted to the darkened atmosphere and unnaturally colored lights, she saw that she wasn't the only one who had this restlessness driving her tonight. As the guard at the door said... it was full. The room's energy was amazing, and it only fueled those hungers that rattled around in the Pulse L'cie. Green eyes scanned the room before heading for the bar. Her route took her through the chaos of the dance floor, a dangerous place for any one who was skittish, or had a large rigid circle needed for personal space; for Fang... it was just a sensory appetizer. Sliding up to the bar, she flagged a busy tender down and flashed her brand ordering a double shot "Pulse." Aptly named though she doubted it was dubbed thus for the hot flush that raced through the body shortly after consumption. Anything that was considered "hard," or "dangerous" had Pulse in its name some where... after about two weeks of Cocoon, she could use some Pulse. The tender poured the smoky liquor into a glass for her as she caught sight of a pink head. Fang leaned back trying to get a better glimpse of the owner of those rose-colored locks when they finished pouring. "Make it two." Fang said, and after a pause for the exchange of Gill, her bar tender poured a second one. Fang sauntered through the milling crowd as if the world moved under her command... and perhaps just a little bit it did. When they saw the lobo smiling dark haired L'cie, they paused, stepped back, and let her pass. Not so much as a drop of the smoky liquor was spilled as she set it down in front of the pink haired soldier sitting all alone in the overcrowded nightclub. "You look like you could use some company." Fang said as she straddled the seat across from Lightning Farron, Soldier of the Guardian Corps and fellow L'cie.</s>

It was one of those kind of days at Beverly Hills High, the kind of day that for once was devoid of chaos and weirdness. This whole town served as a magnet for trouble, due in no small part to three teenage spies who always found their way into trouble. Still, nobody was complaining today. Occasions like these were all too rare, so why try to find fault with them? In one of the women's bathrooms of the high school, a pair of attractive female figures found themselves looking into different mirrors, using their reflections for guidance as they applied their makeup. "I had a date last night," came the unmistakable nasal tone of Mandy, the raven-haired girl who always seemed to vex the trio of spies. "Oh yeah? How was she?" came the brunette's response. "Totally lame..." Mandy said with a small roll of her eyes. "I teased her for about an hour straight until she was soaking wet, and I had her totally begging for it. So I took the strap-on and used it to fuck her brains out, but I was left bored after. I need to get better ladies to fuck," she added with a small sigh and exasperated roll of her eyes.

Redhead Samantha Simpson, one of the aforementioned teenage spies, was in the farthest stall from the two. She stayed hidden in the stall until the two had left and came out, clearly curious about what was discussed among the two popular girls. She washed her hands, shook them once, and combed her long ginger locks with those same wet hands. Now my curiosity is piqued; what's the big deal about girl on girl sex? A strap-on? I think I want to experiment with this. Right after school, Sam found herself a quiet, out of the way place and opened up her laptop to place an ad in the personals. It read: Redhead looking to experience her first girl, very curious and open-minded about almost anything an experienced woman could show her about being lesbian. Serious and experienced girls only, please, as it makes no sense for two inexperienced girls trying, yet not knowing what we're doing. Text me, and we'll set up a meeting. The number Sam left was not the regular cell phone, but rather the one the girl spy usually used for experiments, of which this qualified. Sam wondered, as she pressed SEND, if she would be the new gossip fodder as this les-curious redhead. Since there were plenty of 'reds' in the school, she wasn't concerned. She just had no idea who would be answering her ad!</s>

Hitsuki Takeda As beautiful as the sight of the sun vanishing was, it also meant for anyone traveling on the roads of Japan that it would be wise to seek shelter out. Alas, twenty-one year old Hitsuki Takeda was no exception to this rule. If anything, he perhaps applied to it even more so than most other people. Not to say he was a bad man or anything, heavens no. But many people tended to believe that from a simple glance at him and the swords attached to his side. "The concern is valid enough I suppose," he mused softly to himself, nodding after thinking it over a few moments. The day was ... hm. Whatwastoday anyways? It was difficult to figure such things out, especially while one traveled so often from place to place like Hitsuki did. However, from what he could quickly guess, he was pretty sure it was the middle of September, leaning towards early October of 1868. The Meiji era had almost literally just begun, and with it's arrival, there were supposed to be promises of many new beginnings for everyone in Japan. And yet, from all that Hitsuki had seen, not everyone accepted this. In fact, there were a good number of radicals who wanted things to remain the same, those who sought to continue the needless bloodshed. It was a shame, really. There was never a need for it. There was definitely no point in trying to initiate a needless war, that was for damn sure. "No need to repeat history," he muttered softly, moving a few raven strands of hair away from his eyes as a gentle breeze danced along his flesh and locks. Among the sun vanishing, he could feel the temperature beginning to drop. If now wasn't the best time to find an inn or somewhere to stay ... well ... hell if he knew the best time to find a place to remain in for the night. Thankfully, a nearby sign ahead hinted that Kyoto wasn't too far away. A soft sigh mingled in with the wind as his pace seemed to quicken. The ability to stay warm and have a fresh meal sounded very good right about now and he was more than ready to earn that. He didn't have the most in terms of currency. But ... he had managed to find some rather reasonable people on his journey thus far. Maybe his luck would continue? Only time would soon tell, Hitsuki figured.

Riku Kotabe: Hitomi Fukuyama: Golden light spilled forth over the horizon one last time...painting the world in its vibrant color, before leaving to allow navy blue to invade. Shopkeepers began closing for the day, their last customers lingering before heading back home. A number of children ceased playing in the streets, having been called by their mothers or their fathers to return home. Overall it was a peaceful ending to a rather uneventful day at least, that was the case for many people within the walls of Kyoto. Oh no Mistress Riku is going to be angry if I'm late with supper again came a worried whisper. Several glances went in her direction, numerous quickly darting away. Most of the people within Kyoko knew who she was, and didn't cross paths with the young woman not because of her demeanor, but rather because of her status as a slave. Slaves were not common in this day and age...but every once in a while, one would come across a person who did own a slave or two. It was a sad existence, really...for that slave has to follow their masters orders, no matter what the task may be...no matter what risk may come, or danger onto themselves. This particular slaves name was Hitomi Fukuyama. A sickly child, she was abandoned by her parents when barely six months old or rather, not simply abandoned, but left upon a doorstep. From that moment on, Hitomi was a slave to Riku Kotabes whims...whether they be silly or otherwise. Ever since she could walk, talk, and think for herself, she has followed the woman's orders...not that she hasn't thought about the concept of freedom. In fact it has crossed her mind several times over the years. Where would she go, though? Who could she rely on during her time of need? There was also the possibility of Mistress Riku tracking her down, even when free and beyond her grasp... The fact of the matter is...there is no way Hitomi could escape her clutches. There was no possible way to obtain freedom, at least...none that she could think of. Her hands holding onto the shopping bags ever tighter, she hurried her way down the street, not bothering to look at the surrounding area. After all, she knew Kyoto like the back of her hand. Of course, what Hitomi didn't anticipate was that someone would be walking into the designated path she chose to take...and so, a collision was inevitable. Hard muscle met soft curves, and with a startled cry, Hitomi fell to the ground with a hard thump. The bag of rice tore, grains littering the road, while other things began to either roll away or make some sort of escape. Ow, ow, ow! Hitomi found that half a dozen places hurt, and rubbing the back of her head, sending several black threads of hair flowing down over her exposed shoulders. The collision had loosened the kimono she was wearing...making it where a great deal of skin was revealed, inappropriate and otherwise. One golden eye opened, pain filling the orb and painting it a darker hue. Hitomi began looking around nervously. Did I really hit someone? she wondered out loud, unaware that she was sitting on top of the young man involved in said collision, in fact straddling his lap. I don't see anyone, though.</s>

Sasuke couldn't remember how things had led up to this. He recalled getting into an argument with Sakura and going to a bar to relax. There, he met the most unexpected person, Hinata Hyuuga, or as she was now known, Hinata Uzumaki. Naruto had been having a bad day at work and snapped at Hinata for a mistake she made, so she sought solace in some drinks. He approached her and they both began to talk and drink more. Soon, they were both loose and flirting with each other. Without thinking, he kissed her, passionately, and though she was initially resistant, she quickly reciprocated. No words needed to be spoken after that. Sasuke quickly took them to a nearby hotel and checked into a room. Here they were. Sasuke was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had ordered Hinata to perform a strip-tease and give him a lap dance while doing so. He wondered if the meek girl was even capable of such a thing, but he had a feeling he was about to be surprised.

At first, she'd thought that she would have the perfect life. Finally, after years of yearning to be with Naruto, it had come to pass. Now, she was married and had two beautiful children... But Naruto was changing, rapidly. Ever since accepting the position as Hokage, he seemed to be getting more stressed out. She knew he wasn't fully aware of how taxing his dream would be. She did her best to be supportive, to try and help, but sometimes it was too much. Tonight, he'd snapped at her, yelled at her in front of their daughter, and she couldn't handle that. The Naruto she knew would never yell at someone he loved over something so stupid as a big load of paperwork. That's how she'd ended up with a few drinks in her. Turns out that was all it took to make her a bit... Well, not herself. She apparently had a pretty low tolerance. While there, she'd run into Sasuke who had seemed to have the same problem as her, though probably more severe. The night was... Nice. Hinata had never had a real conversation with Sasuke before, considering how shy and allusive she had been most of her life. Now, however, with everything that had happened, her shy personality was chipping away and she'd been able to open up to people more. The kiss had come as a complete shock. Her eyes widened and her head felt rather dizzy. For a moment, she was scared - she knew it was wrong, she knew she shouldn't be doing this. But... yet, it felt nice. Since work had been piling up, Naruto had been more reclusive, leaving her alone most of the time. While at first she'd been content, this was just proving to her how much she missed their physical relationship. He'd never know. Just one time, one night. That's all. With that, she returned the kiss and they were gone, checked into a hotel with Sasuke waiting patiently for her to fulfill his request. When she was younger, his request would have been far passed her. Now though, with how she'd been opening up a bit more and becoming a bit more confident, all it did was make her a bit nervous and give her a deep blush on her cheeks. She'd never done anything like that, even with Naruto. "I... I'm not much of a dancer," she said hesitantly, knowing that she'd probably just look awkward if she attempted something like that. Still, she moved her hand up to the straps of her dress and slipped them down her arms to the dress gathered at her feet on the ground, leaving her in her button-up top and leggings. With slow and nervous fingers, she started undoing the buttons one at a time, slowly working her way from the top, showing off cleavage first before the last button was off and she let the shirt slide off. Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to work her leggings off as well. She was nervous, her hands were shaking, she could feel her cheeks getting a deeper red and her eyes could hardly look anywhere else but the floor, especially once her leggings were gone and it was just her in a bra and underwear.</s>

Sasuke couldn't remember how things had led up to this. He recalled getting into an argument with Sakura and going to a bar to relax. There, he met the most unexpected person, Hinata Hyuuga, or as she was now known, Hinata Uzumaki. Naruto had been having a bad day at work and snapped at Hinata for a mistake she made, so she sought solace in some drinks. He approached her and they both began to talk and drink more. Soon, they were both loose and flirting with each other. Without thinking, he kissed her, passionately, and though she was initially resistant, she quickly reciprocated. No words needed to be spoken after that. Sasuke quickly took them to a nearby hotel and checked into a room. Here they were. Sasuke was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had ordered Hinata to perform a strip-tease and give him a lap dance while doing so. He wondered if the meek girl was even capable of such a thing, but he had a feeling he was about to be surprised.

At first, she'd thought that she would have the perfect life. Finally, after years of yearning to be with Naruto, it had come to pass. Now, she was married and had two beautiful children... But Naruto was changing, rapidly. Ever since accepting the position as Hokage, he seemed to be getting more stressed out. She knew he wasn't fully aware of how taxing his dream would be. She did her best to be supportive, to try and help, but sometimes it was too much. Tonight, he'd snapped at her, yelled at her in front of their daughter, and she couldn't handle that. The Naruto she knew would never yell at someone he loved over something so stupid as a big load of paperwork. That's how she'd ended up with a few drinks in her. Turns out that was all it took to make her a bit... Well, not herself. She apparently had a pretty low tolerance. While there, she'd run into Sasuke who had seemed to have the same problem as her, though probably more severe. The night was... Nice. Hinata had never had a real conversation with Sasuke before, considering how shy and allusive she had been most of her life. Now, however, with everything that had happened, her shy personality was chipping away and she'd been able to open up to people more. The kiss had come as a complete shock. Her eyes widened and her head felt rather dizzy. For a moment, she was scared - she knew it was wrong, she knew she shouldn't be doing this. But... yet, it felt nice. Since work had been piling up, Naruto had been more reclusive, leaving her alone most of the time. While at first she'd been content, this was just proving to her how much she missed their physical relationship. He'd never know. Just one time, one night. That's all. With that, she returned the kiss and they were gone, checked into a hotel with Sasuke waiting patiently for her to fulfill his request. When she was younger, his request would have been far passed her. Now though, with how she'd been opening up a bit more and becoming a bit more confident, all it did was make her a bit nervous and give her a deep blush on her cheeks. She'd never done anything like that, even with Naruto. "I... I'm not much of a dancer," she said hesitantly, knowing that she'd probably just look awkward if she attempted something like that. Still, she moved her hand up to the straps of her dress and slipped them down her arms to the dress gathered at her feet on the ground, leaving her in her button-up top and leggings. With slow and nervous fingers, she started undoing the buttons one at a time, slowly working her way from the top, showing off cleavage first before the last button was off and she let the shirt slide off. Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to work her leggings off as well. She was nervous, her hands were shaking, she could feel her cheeks getting a deeper red and her eyes could hardly look anywhere else but the floor, especially once her leggings were gone and it was just her in a bra and underwear.</s>

Cleste Guerrier had the reputation around the school for beating boys up rather than kissing them. She was built like a warrior, with strong arms and legs. But that didn't stop the guys and a few girls from ogling her; she was that pretty. She used her beauty like a weapon. But she wasn't a dumb bimbo like a lot of guys wanted her to be. Folks would have had her hide if her GPA dropped lower than 3.5. She was a military brat, her folks were both Army. She'd been in military school her whole life, well, except for this year, since there weren't any ones close by. She was 18 years old, a virgin, and she was looking to be the very best. But right now, in her Advanced Placement Chemistry class, she was studying, not knowing that she was being eyed by the school star. Her ears were pointed, but it was only noticeable by him and his friends; her ears looked normal to everybody else.

Mark Chapham watched Cleste from across the class. She really was something. His nostrils flared as he watched her brush a strand of hair out of her face and bent over the chemistry book. "Whatcha looking at Marky?" Hannah Young said hopefully from his elbow. Hannah was his assigned partner in the class and it hadn't taken Mark more than a fortnight to get in her panties. Now, however, she was boring him. "Your boring me Hannah," he growled, ruffling his thick black hair in frustration. He really wanted to ask Cleste to prom. He knew she'd go with him. No-one ever turned down Mark Chapman, Track Team Captain and, without a doubt, upcoming Prom King. Cleste represented a challenge, a quiet kid with a tough reputation who refused to let anyone push her around. Eighteen and already at the pinnacle of High School, there were few challenges left for Mark, and Cleste was one of them. "But Marky," Hannah pouted, her brown eyes filling with tears, "that's not nice. I thought you and me were... y'know...." She trailed off. "What?" he spat, keeping his voice low so as not to alert the teacher. "Nothing. That's what we are." The bell rang and he stood, leaving Hannah sniffing in her seat. You didn't become an Alpha by making friends, he thought, and life was rough. He followed Cleste out of the room into the crowded hall, hoping to get a chance to catch her and ask her out. "Hey," he called after her, pushing through the crowds, "Hey Cleste! Got a minute?"</s>

Harley stands atop a large wooden create that slightly towered above her new gang, swinging her hands into the air, releasing glitter all over her men. "I just thought things needed to be a bit more... sparkly!". The princess yells, much too loud for only the goon's in the abandoned place to hear, the whole of Gotham would probably have heard if they weren't too busy wallowing in their own sins. "Now that Mistah J has left us, you all belong to me and have to do my bidding no matter what I say, got it!" She shows her new power as she points over to two new members of the 'Party' as Harley would call it, and makes a pout, signaling for them to kiss each other as she nods in the others direction. Standing tall, Harley begins to laugh like the little perfect clown she is and leans in as the two goon's contemplate kissing to please their new queen, but one can simply not do it and refuses the princesses request. Forcing his way to the front of the pack, he confronts Harley, climbing on the crate with his tall physique finding it effortless. "How dare you... do you even know who I am and what I can do!" The goon roars in the face of Harley, only greeted by a large smile, a smile that if it got any bigger, she would give herself a Chelsea smile. "I do know who you are Mistah James, and I do know what you can do, and because of that, you cannot really let me expect you to live..." Harley tells the man, patting him on the shoulder, leaning in close to him, her cleavage on full display for him. "Wha-What do you mean... you recruited me to join you Harley!" With the man's genuine inquiry, Harley picks up a clipboard from atop the crate and begins to read out names, pointing to several people in the group and reading their crimes, seemingly all related to abuse of children in one way or another before she gets to the goon's name who she is confronted with. "Mistah James... I can't read your first name, it reminds me too much of J. Anyway... Mistah James, convicted of abuse of 14 minors in either a sexual or physical way and got broken out of the big house by your old gang huh..." Throwing the list to the floor from the crate, she grabs the man's collar with both hands, pulling him toward her, dropping her smile, looking him right in the eyes. "I hate child abusers... with every fiber of my being, and now it's time to pay. Say hello to them other sick fuck's for me..." With that, the man's face dropped as Harley's smile returned and pushed the man from atop the crate, letting him fall to his sure death head first on the floor below. After the impact, the man was laying on the floor, blood pouring from his skull, but he was still alive, and this did please Harley. "Fuck Mistah James, you are a resilient fuck aren't cha'!" Surveying the crowd, Harley looks for other new recruits to her gang which is not with The Joker at the time she got thrown out. Seeing a man at the back of the pack looking slightly nervous and maybe even a little shy, Harley grabs her signature hammer from down by the side of the crate, shouting over to the man she spotted. "Hey you!... Wanna' please a girl?" Gesturing for him to come to the front, she dangles her oversize comical weapon, waiting for him to come over to the front, and seeing if he uses his initiative to please his new princess.</s>

Ryan Morris was a self-made millionaire. He owned a very successful company that sold consumer electronics to various businesses. He sold it a few years ago for $250 million. He took that money and through good investing he figured he was set for life. He bought 50 acres of land in the country outside of Detroit, Michigan. There is some woods, a natural pond fed by a waterfall and some open fields of land. He built a nice two story house there for him to live in. He had just about everything. The only thing he was missing was someone to share it with. He had gone on a lot of dates over the years but he still hadn't found the one. The two most important people in his life were his 33 year old sister, Gwenevere. But everyone called her Gwen. And her 10 year old daughter, Annabelle. Ryan and Gwen lost their parents in a car crash a few years ago and Annabelle's father was a one night stand that Gwen had. Gwen and Annabelle lived in the suburbs of Detroit and visited him often. One night, there was a big thunderstorm. He was watching CNN, when there was a very loud lighting strike. Ryan saw the flash of light and it looked ice blue more than white. Then, a few moments later he heard a knock on his door. He was surprised that anyone would be traveling in this weather. He went to the door and was surprised to see two young women there. One dressed like Elsa from the movie Frozen. The other was dressed like her sister Anna.

The boom rolled across the valley, announcing the start of what the brooding cloud layer had promised since dawn. The boughs of the trees swayed in the strengthening gust, surrendering their fall leaves without a fight. Portals between two worlds were opening in the midst of the night, ancient and powerful spells having been performed and put into action to send both Elsa and Anna to Earth that night. They would believe it was pure evil, a curse by one of the many villains of their own fantasy world, but in retrospect it was for their own protection. Blackened clouds that dominated the sky swirled building on top of one another. After a few experimental drops, the clouds unleashed a torrent of water, driven by wind strong enough to push the gorse bushes flatter and scatter their golden petals like confetti. The waves became titans, smashing into the grass below, and the sea that had been so dark under the gloomy sky was now white with foam and spray as it poured and lightening struck. Both young girls were sent through the chaos and were now left in the storm. Both were on their hands and knees shielding themselves from the vicious storm. Elsa pushed up from her bare feet and grabbed Anna; afraid she would get hurt or stuck by lightning. She pushed them through the heavy rains and wind until they found a huge lit house in front of them. They hustled as much as they could run up the porch and after finding the front door began banging on it rapidly. They were soaked from head to toe, Annas makeup was smeared. Their dresses were torn and soaked. Elsa wasn't even in her usual blue dress but something more comfortable; her dress was torn revealing one of her thighs. Elsa's eye shadow and eyeliner had smeared making the girls look like sweaty fans at an alternative concert. Elsa was saying polite curses if there was such a thing, sounding like a child using other phrases when they meant another as Anna banged on the door. Anna we don't know who lives in this place. We need to get home, where ever home is.Elsa said drenched and watching Anna happily knock.</s>

Ariana Grande was busy putting on her boots and other skiing equipment. She had taken a few weeks off to go skiing and vacation after a busy year touring. She couldn't wait to hit the slopes. As she was getting dressed, her agent called. "Hey there Danny!" Ariana said in a bubbly voice, removing her glove to talk on her iPhone. "Can you promise me that you'll take it easy?" he implored on the other line. Ariana frowned despite the fact he couldn't see her. "I'll do whatever I want," she replied. "In fact, I'm thinking about trying one of the bigger slopes today." She hung up and then headed out. Taking the lift up the mountain to a good mid-range slope, she strapped herself into her skis and pushed off. She felt the powder and wind as she raced down the slope, slaloming along. Ariana could feel the rush that she had craved. She slowed herself down a little in order to be able to enjoy the view from the mountain more easily. But then she turned and followed the path and found it more heavily covered with snow. She began to sink into the drift. "Oh god!" she screamed to herself as her skis sank further and further into the snow. In a desperate attempt to correct herself, she sped up and tried to go in a different direction. Only for her skis to catch on a rock, sending her tumbling over and into a massive bank of snow. Her head smacked against a rock, and she lost consciousness.

Ryan Morris at one point in his life had it all. He was the founding partner of a very successful public relations company. He also had a beautiful wife, Annabelle. But everything changed about 5 years ago. One night, Ryan and Annabelle were in a terrible car accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and crashed into the passenger side of their car. Ryan was OK, but Annabelle was killed instantly. After Ryan got out of the hospital, he sold his share of the company to his partners and moved to his and Annabelle's cabin in the mountains near Lake Tahoe. He builds a cabin after he made his first $10,000,000 It had all the amenities, full electricity, Satellite TV and Internet. One winter's day he was coming back from town, there was a big blizzard coming, and he wanted to make sure he had plenty of food. The weather report said they could get up to three feet of snow that night. Enough to keep him inside for a month or two. He was unloading his car when he heard a female voice call out. "Oh God!" He grabbed his skis and headed in the direction of the voice. He saw someone in the snow unconscious. Furthermore, he walked up to the person and saw it was a woman. Furthermore, he gently shook her... "Miss... Miss... Are you OK?" He got no answer. He saw the snow was starting to fall. Furthermore, he didn't think he'd have time to get to the hospital before the blizzard hit. Furthermore, he didn't see any blood in the snow. Furthermore, he decided to take he back to his cabin. Furthermore, he picked her up and carried her back to his place. Furthermore, he got her inside and her skin felt very cold. Furthermore, he figured it was at least 15 minutes before he found her. Furthermore, he knew he had to warm her up. Furthermore, he took her back to his bedroom. Then, he sat her on the bed. He took of all of her clothes, and then he went in the closet. He still had all of his late wife's clothes... he couldn't bear to get rid of them. Furthermore, he put a dry purple nightgown and panties on her. Then he tucked her into the bed he put the young woman's clothes by the fire to get dry. As the young woman slept there was something about her that looked familiar, but he didn't know why. Ryan then went into the kitchen to get her some soup.</s>

So Taylor Swift was in sexy cavegirloutfit on some unmapped tropical island. Even that sentence sounded ludicrous, and Taylor was the one who happened to be living that particular reality right now. She'd been told to leave her blonde hair in a sort of shaggy style, but there had still of course been some artful makeup. Bright blue eyes popped and looked oh so sultry and fetching from that beautiful face. Taylor had been working more and more recently at being "sensual" and "sexy." It was all part of image development, of branching forward and continuing the domination of the Taylor Swift brand. Be just sexy enough to sell, but not sexy enough to completely turn off the legion of teenagers who wanted to be just like Taylor. It had been a balancing act for ages, but now Taylor worked ever so hard at making sure that she entered womanhood and became a full adult pop star. Hell, there weren't too many people on the planet who dominated quite like her. Yet there she was: dressed like some sort of cave girl. To be more accurate, Taylor looked and felt like a porn star in a caveman based film. Admittedly a moderately decent budget, given the fabric that draped Taylor's lean form. The fur pulling her already perky chest nearly flat to her form felt almost real. The leather cinching her tight and drawing yet more attention to the slender hourglass figure definitely was. Same for the boots that extended nearly to Taylor's knees. Someone had even gone all out and made certain that Taylor wore a tiger-striped and fur lined thong to complete the package. She could feel the strange fabric splitting her tight ass cheeks almost too perfectly. The whole thing looked pretty sexy, in a slightly slutty sort of way. "It's for a good cause," the pretty blonde told herself as she walked away from the little tent they'd set up for her to change in. Her booted feet slid a bit on the sand as she walked along the beach. The island was beautiful: she had to give them that. Luxurious, the perfect temperature for this sort of thing. The only major building was this impressive French colonial manor that perched atop a slight hill, looking like it had been ripped from a not-so-distant past. The lush greenery around only made the place seem more paradisaical. It struck Taylor as a rather expensive locale for what amounted to a charity shoot but, well, she supposed if she was going to do this, she was going to do it all out. And Taylor had definitely studied up on this. The doctor was apparently working with some sort of gene splicing therapy that was already making progress. The details were a bit fuzzy, but it apparently helped humans that would otherwise be deemed insufficient to be more... acceptable to humanity. Taylor read through a report that made it sound like it fought off mental deterioration and possibly even had something to do with virility. They were just in the final phases of testing and were looking for a spokesperson. Taylor had been looking for a cause and, well, here she was: dressed like a cavewoman. "This is so taking advantage of the poor subject," Taylor mumbled as she walked back to where the arranger of this whole thing had the cameras and such set up. "I really should give them a piece of my mind," though right now her mind was focused more on keeping balanced in these "fuck-me" boots as she strutted. "I'm ready!" she yelled toward what looked like extra lights and cameras. There had to be at least a few people there somewhere. "You've got to be kidding me: this whole thing has been entirely too unprofessional. I should just call someone and get the hell off this rock..." Except that there was no cell service, apparently. Taylor could send an email, she supposed. And if no one showed up soon, she was doing exactly that. She was supposed to be getting this shoot started already, meeting with her partner and getting everything together. Taylor never really liked this part of the whole being famous thing, and the outfit and the trip and just everything was really making her just want to get it all over with...

Some way back from the beach, two shadows stood amid the flickering light of the jungle. They were watching the elegant figure on the sands surrounded by the camera gear, as she remained oblivious to their voyeurism. Each maintained the stillness of a watchful predator completely at home in their environment. Together they were as much a part of the jungle as the dead-eyed lizards crawling over the rocks or the gaudy parrots leering overhead. The larger of the two was a burly man, his barrel chest and trunk limbs straining his old white cotton suit now a malaised yellow through years of sweat. A battered panama hat and restitched pair of canvas shoes gave him almost the aspect of a caricature, like a Charles Laughton character from a seedy old noir. To a casual observer his ruffled appearance and distracted air made him seem like a dotty schoolmaster who had lost his students. But these affectations were deliberately contrived to disarm, and the true character of the man within was that of a practiced torturer and gleeful sadist. Certainly, Dr Anton Prospero's face wasn't about to win him any admirers. His bloated, ranine features resembled a bilious frog an image not improved by glassy round eyes that seemed to take in everything at once, and an unsettling habit of continually wetting his needle-thin lips. Nor was his saggy middle-aged physique impressive in any way, although he possessed an immense innate strength. But behind these flabby clay flaws was a brilliant mind, cold and clear as a diamond, which knew no boundaries of morals or ethics and insisted solely on his quest to perfect the human form. For twenty-five years he had been one of the premier plastic surgeons in Europe, until he was forced to flee Europe after an outrage saw him made a hunted man. Having being slighted by a rival physician, he abducted the man's daughter a stunning beauty to whom her father was devoted and turned her into a veritable medusa through a horrific, irreparable operation. Abandoning his name of Moreau, he fled to a long-secured blothole and adopted the handle of Shakespeare's island-dwelling magician in a narcissistic touch of irony. Now unrestrained from the petty minds and backward peasants who had previously hindered his work, he began to truly bend the limits of species and race. The second figure now crouching beside him was the result of these inhuman experiments. At a casual glance it seemed like a stocky small man in a very badly made monkey suit, but further examination revealed the twisted entity to be like some stunted, Neanderthal dwarf, carpeted in a mat of thick black hair. His flat nose, square head and ferocious facial hair all seemed to disappear alongside his black shining eyes, which burned with an animal intensity. A set of short, powerful limbs were like sinewy cords and his compact frame seethed with a constant furious energy. Around his waist he wore a rudimentary fur girdle, which did little to suppress the obvious bulge of his prodigious member. As the breeze shifted his nose twitched, tasting Taylor's youthful, sweaty body in the air and he pawed the dirt with a guttural moan. Easy, Caliban. Easy, my son, said Prospero in a flat distracted tone. He was watching Taylor through a digital telescope, reveling in the sight of her lithe figure in the barely-there costume. Mon Dieu, Botticelli never dreamed of a Venus like this washing up on a white sand beach, he said with a sigh that was almost nostalgic. He ran the lens across her body like the practiced hands of a lover, taking every chance to savor her beautiful young physique. Languidly he drank in the sight of her bronze toned legs; the way her calves tapered out of the boots into her firm dancer's thighs. His eyes rode up to her high, firm ass, its gym-shaped contours perfectly accented in the cursory thong. Her drum-tight, sweat dappled chest and elegant waist shone in the sun, but the delicious promise of her two ripe, round breasts remained barely suppressed by the cavegirl bra. Finally he gazed at length on her aristocratic features, her bright pink lips pouting with arrogant impatience. Through the scope he could see her sapphire eyes blinking bright and troubled as the sea. Miss Swift, it's time for your close-up, he said with a soft chuckle. Pocketing the telescope he drew out his control device, a digital phone used to control the equipment on the beach. Flicking through the various functions he activated them all and began the recording. Then taking Caliban's hand as gently as someone would a child's, he intoned with mock formality Come, my little friend! We've kept our lovely guest waiting long enough. Your big moment in the limelight awaits! Together, they walked casually down onto the beach towards Taylor.</s>

The night in San Javier was better than the daytime; you could actually feel the seabreeze against your skin and the sun didn't beat down and chase you into the water. It was especially perfect for a cigar, rum, and a girl to enjoy. At present,Pierre Murat had only two of those things, though there were always options on his phone or on his staff. He'd created the Elysian as a relaxation and pleasure paradise, and it had a solid reputation as a place people could get away with just about anything. Above the law in his domain, he traded location and luxury for near-infinite tourist dollars. And occasionally, celebrities would enter his domain. In this case, the young Ariana Grande had found her way to his island. Extinguishing his cigar and setting his drink aside for now, he stood and moved inside the luxe penthouse. One good thing about the tropics was they kept you lean; Murat was no exception, spending time on workouts and keeping things simple, giving him a body that he currently showed off with an open white shirt and shorts. He looked a wealthy patron, but the owner liked to move about unnoticed except by people who knew. Minutes later, he arrived at Ariana's suite door with a package in hand. A new bathing suit branded for the Elysian, navy. A silk sheer cover-up. Some massage oils. Coupons for free everything. The full celebrity treatment. His Haitian accent infused his voice as he knocked lightly, smiling through the peephole. "It's Pierre, Miss Ariana. I am here to welcome you for your stay."

Gah, was this trip something Ariananeeded just desperately? She'd been working nonstop for like ever at this point. All the performing and recording and press interviews and her new stint on that one show. It all was just all kinds of overwhelming. So when she'd gotten the invite to the Elysian, this one-of-a-kind relaxation destination where you could get literally everything you ever wanted to chill out and enjoy yourself? Yeah, Ariana would've teleported there if she'd had the chance. Unfortunately, technology had not quite caught up to the whims of teenage pop stars just yet, so Ariana had to settle for the much longer way. The pretty young thing arrived with all the pomp and circumstance a diva should. There was a near whirlwind as she brought in her luggage and talked to the various employees to get everything situated. Yes, she had reserved a room: not just a room, theroom, the best room they had, and the sooner she got it, the happier everyone would be. She was hustled right along, the smiles and "ma'am"s doing wonders for her disposition. The place helped too. Elysian really lived up to its reputation: all warm and tropical. There were palm trees and a beach practically shoved up against the resort proper. How cool was that? And that wasn't even taking into consideration all the tropic luxury that had greeted the petite performer upon her arrival. She'd been dancing by the time they showed her to her room. Ariana had wasted no time in flopping down onto the bed, reddish brown hair flying out around her. She looked every inch the teenager who'd stolen daddy's credit card to get away for a weekend. All five feet of her practically vibrated with excitement, from her perfectly trimmed and lightly painted little toes to the top of her expertly coiffed hair. Excitement shone in those dark eyes as she pushed herself upright, looking around the room. Each gesture caused her hair to flip around her shoulders, practically hitting her perky, yet small bust. Within moments she'd launched off the bed, taut abdomen muscles rippling with the motion. Years of dancing and performing had left Ariana with an exquisitely lean body, genetics and training only adding further to it. This girl bounded up to the door as she heard the knock: "Coming!" she called in a sing-song. She didn't waste any time in opening the door. "Hello there!" she called, looking up at him. She met his eyes for a moment before falling on the stuff in his arms. "Oh wow, is this the whole VIP treatment thing they mentioned in the email? Because I totally wasn't expecting it." This last was said in a way that clearly indicated just how much she was. The girl stood to the side, nodding and gesturing for the man to go right in, smiling all the while.</s>

Hunting for heart Katarina & shiny umbrella "A Shiny Umbrella, you say? You could fetch tons for something like that. Maybe hand it over to the Boss for a promotion!" "Now why would I do that?" the redhead refuted her fellow admin in the lounge of the Team Rocket base. Word had already spread in the entire hideout of Katarina's catch of the day and many had already pestered her about seeing the Pokboy in the flesh, much to her annoyance. The other admins, envious of her spoils, had also attempted all they could to convince her that handing the Umbrella over to the Boss would be a wiser idea. As if. Katarina had never been the type of associate to kiss ass. She was more invested in her personal success than Team Rocket's, treating the latter as a quick, but stable way for cash flow. Her passion lied in poaching, though, and her sport made her name infamous among trainers and tempting among clients. Katarina seldom brought trophies home, but when she did, it was usually worth it. The poacher had been out that evening and came upon an ambitious trainer who challenged her to a battle, claiming she had a "secret weapon" up her sleeve. One by one, Katarina's Zoroark, an exotic Cowgirl herself, practically mowed down her opponent's roster, right down to her last Pokemon. When her opponent revealed the last card up her sleeve, the Shiny Umbreon, she knew she had to have it for herself. Team Rocket had never played fair and the organization's selfish methods of creating a Pokemon army came in handy when they invented contraptions like Dark Balls specially designed to steal owned Pokmon. They were scarce and high in demand in the ranks, but Katarina had a couple, just for these occasions. The devastated trainer, beaten and vulnerable with no able-bodied Pokmon in her roster, watched in horror as Katarina seized the Umbrella for her own. He was hers, now. Not Team Rocket's. Hers. "Have you released him yet?" the nosy admin asked her, his eyes twinkling. Katarina retrieved the Dark Ball from her belt and tossed it lightly onto the ground. She hadn't bothered to heal him yet, so she wasn't worried that he would lash out, especially not with another admin and two of her Pokemon present in the lounge. One long leg crossed over the other as she watched his form materialize in front of her. "Won't you greet your new mistress?" she ordered coyly, also proud to present her new catch to her fellow admin.

The eagerly anticipated Shiny Umbreon materialized tall and proud, intelligent aureates scanning around in cold ire, thin lips curling into a faint sneer. Unlike many Pokboys new to civilization and human ownership, the Umbreon's outfit indicated familiarity with human customs. His jacket was nearly skin-tight, black paneled with gray and decorated with ruffles and a zigzagged string. One hand gloved, the other left bare, a touch of edgy mirrored by the single streak of dyed hair. Fitted falcon jeans were tucked into steel-toed boots ending just below the knee. He could have passed for an immaculately dressed pop singer, had it not been for the glimmering bands of cobalt on his thighs and shoulder, the small of his back, and, of course, ringing his flattened ear and faintly bristling tail. He was not badly injured from the events prior, a slim cut on his cheek from flying debris and bruises lining his forearms constituted the extent of his injuries. But he was exhausted. Despite his rolled back shoulder and upturned chin, his fatigue was obvious in his matted bangs and the way standing seemed to take great effort. The Pok battle had taken whatever energy he had remaining; even his tail seemed to droop as he ascertained his surroundings with feigned bravado. In a way, Pokboys were not unlike succubi; wild Pokboys did not require sexual essence to live, but they grew strongest under loving attention and care. The capacities of a feral Pokboy versus that of one raised by a diligent trainer are as different as night and day. And though this Umbreon was obviously previously owned, an experienced trainer could easily deduce a lack of care from his quick exhaustion and slow recovery. Molten golds darted around, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. He recognized the self-assured female trainer from the previous battle, but the rest of the battle seemed a blur. His eyes lingered on the unfamiliar Pokball; it wasn't the home he was used to, and yet appeared to be his new lodgings. His eyes narrowed in a cross between unease and aggression as he spotted the Zoroark standing just behind. It disgusted him the ease with which the clearly well cared for Pokgirl wiped the floor with him. He wasn't weak...he wasn't...but his tragic history of being shuttled from collector to collector and finally to an abusive trainer had taken a toll on both his psyche and strength. When he was young, his coloration had been a source of pride, but now he couldn't help but see it as a curse. When the request came, he hesitated. He knew well that despite the phrasing, it was a command, and from experience, refusing those always led to very bad things. But while he wanted to shirk before the confident human, to run, he knew he wouldn't get far with two well-trained and alert Pokmons in the room. "My name's Kaine," he grumbled under his breath, casting a leery gaze at the seated woman. Another pause before he added, voice barely above a reluctant whisper. "...mistress."</s>

The Den was known for its mystery, for its darkness. Called "The Den," it seemed to shift from place to place, taking residence in a city for only a few days, perhaps a week or two, before seemingly disappearing into the night. Little was known about the owners. Some claimed that there were, in fact, regulars to this hidden club, though no one seemed to have proof. Nobody knew anyone who actually could be called a regular, and no one seemed to really know what went on. All they knew that when it came to elite and selective, nothing came close to "The Den." Which went partway toward explaining why the beautiful Brit was walking toward it, her brown eyes sweeping the building. Miss Emma Watson was currently shooting a film in this city. An invitation had gone out to the lot of them. Emma, intrigued by the idea of such an exclusive establishment, accepted the invitation. She did find the dress code to be slightly strange. According to the invite, all females must wear either dresses or skintight pants made of latex, leather, and/or lace of some kind. The more constrictive, said the invitation, the better. Thus Emma had squeezed herself into a black leather dress. Strapless, the thing felt almost like packaging, squeezing Emma's taut form into its confines. The thing pushed up those perky breasts, encasing them so tightly that Emma had barely felt there was room for a bra, even the lacy number that she'd managed to slide on. The hem of the dress barely extended halfway down her thigh as well, and she had to resist the urge to tug it down. Per other instructions, she wore heels as well: black. Her brown hair had been recently styled thanks to the crew, and her makeup had been done to accent her features quite well. Thus did Emma enter the club, earning an immediate pass from the bouncer. What she didn't see was the man reaching up to speak into an ear bud as she passed. Instead, the girl entered the club, noting the thumping music, and the droves of people. Most of them were beautiful, in fact, most looked as though they could be cover models themselves. Everywhere you looked, there was a body tightly packed in latex, leather, or lace, and most were gyrating. Emma worked her way through the crowd, reaching up to move back a curl and smile. For now, she figured she needed to find something of a home base, to take in the scene around her and figure out where to go from there.

Kale Rosenthall was one of the few who could be called a regular at The Den. He knew the owner on a first name basis and therefore wherever the club moved, he was guaranteed a VIP booth and unlimited access. He always enjoyed walking up to the bouncer and getting in before these big names, and he always enjoyed how easy it was to pick up a nice girl there and have his way with her. Especially since most of the girls were already heavy into the lifestyle represented by the club; the BDSM lifestyle. The women always went to him upon his calling and were always so nice to him and always listened to him, but this time he didn't want that. The owner had told him some A-list celebrities had been invited, and he had a fun idea based on that. That night, he had gone to The Den as soon as it opened and entered his booth, enjoying the complimentary drinks and teasing waitresses as much as he always did, but he couldn't help smirking when Miss Watson entered the club and seemed out of place. So what he did is he simply got the attention of a waitress and told her to go get Miss Watson and bring her to him. The waitress, being a submissive, said nothing but walked off. The waitress walked up to Miss Watson and said, "Excuse me miss, but the gentleman over there has requested you join him." She leaned in and whispered into Miss Watson's ear, "He is a regular." That alone should be enough to intrigue her, but the waitress added, "Apparently knows the owners." She then handed Miss Watson a drink and walked off to serve other booths. Kale saw the waitress saunter on over to Miss Watson and then he smiled and raised his glass to her as she looked over here. He knew the waitress did a good job. He sat back and waited for Miss Watson to come join him. For this A-list celebrity to come mingle with him. When she walked over to his booth, he couldn't help but gaze over her entire body and analyze her every curve. He had the look of a pure dominate, and all the submissives in the club would have recognized that look, but he found Miss Watson simply brushed it off, which only intrigued him more.</s>

First thing in the morning, Professor Archon had to teach third-year potions. Granted, he made his schedule, and it wasn't as if he were going to sleep in at all. When he did sleep, it was never for very long. There was research to do and potions to brew. Well, a rhyme. He claimed to be many things, but a poet was not one of them. He was a renowned Potions Master and wizard, a highly-regarded magical theorist, and one of the more well-liked professors at Hogwarts. Or, at least, so it seemed to him. But who really knew. He was Head of Slytherin House, so often he was more proud and full of himself than was reasonable. Nonetheless, a great deal of students took his Magical Theory classes. And those classes were not easy at all. Almost. He unlatched the door to allow the students in, stepping away to his desk, eyes watching them as they filed past his raised lab table. "Good morning. Find a place to sit, you know by now that I don't care where that is. If you think you need a lab partner, sit at a table with them. If you think you can make it in third year without one, take a chance, sit by yourself, and best of luck to you. You know me well enough to know I won't go easy on you for being brave." He slipped off the outer cloak of his robes, revealing a more fitted set of garments underneath. His arms were wrapped with black cloth, and a fairly fitted black shirt covered his torso. His pants were just as black, but fairly unremarkable. He could have passed for almost normal in the Muggle world, save for the silver belt around his waist. It was about an inch thick, with a silver clasp on the front, and each panel of the belt was inscribed with a different rune. It shimmered in the pale green light that lit the potions room. "Are there any questions before we begin? Most of you should know my class and how I operate by now. I'm not going to waste any of our time with that sort of first-day babble when we could be brewing potions. Or attempting to brew potions, for the less talented." He said, the faintest hint of a smirk playing across his lips.

Holiday had to admit, she didn't think she would be so lucky as to have Potions on the first day of classes. Most Gryffindors hated Potions; Professor Archon is a renowned Potions Master and Wizard, and he isn't exactly kind when it comes to delivering homework. Perfection is an expectation, and anything less will earn you a failing grade. No, it would probably earn you homework that not even a Seventh Year could finish. Snippets of conversation filled the air, and Holiday kept off to the side, waiting for the door to be unlatched. Fiery red hair tumbled against her features, tones of ivory, bronze, copper, and more bringing out the captivating green of her eyes. Being tall and slender, Holiday was the envy of any Gryffindor, first or Seventh year, and the envy of the Slytherins, though none would admit such a thing. Good morning. Find a place to sit, you know by now that I don't care where that is. If you think you need a lab partner, sit at a table with them. If you think you can make it in third year without one, take a chance, sit by yourself, and best of luck to you. Blue, green, and brown eyes exchanged nervous glances, and Holiday had to bite back a laugh. Those bewitching green eyes moved on, and Holiday followed her classmates into the room, robes flowing about her slender, curvy frame. What with high, defined cheeks, a proud, aristocratic nose, and a smile that inflames the imagination, it is a wonder no one has honestly said they are dating the Gryffindor. A couple males glanced over in her direction, clearly appreciating the curves hidden underneath those robes and also clearly imagining what else is hiding underneath. Taking a seat towards the middle, Holiday sat down, one leg crossing over the other revealing hints of a long, slender leg. Good morning to you too, Professor Archon, Holiday greeted, offering him a smile. How was your summer? Professor Archon was not one for idle chit-chat, Holiday knew that much for certain, but she was curious and well, she had to admit, he's hot for a teacher. If he was just a couple years younger, she would probably ask him out on a date okay, most likely, not probably. Resting her chin in the palm of a hand, Holidays smile took on a cheeky quality, all while fiery red fell against mesmerizing green.</s>

Emily Ratajkowski was a 24-year-old model, a very new and upcoming female figure in the entertainment world. But the Californian hottie was recently instructed by her mother to fly all the way to Texas to take care of her grandfather. She hadn't seen him for years and her mother said that after a fall last month, he needed someone to take care of him. Emily had tried reasoning with her mother, she didn't want any of this at all, as it would literally put her career on hold. But her mother demanded that she do it. They had tried hiring multiple caregivers for him but all of them quit after a week or so. She had just gotten off the taxi and was taking her bags out of the car boot. Pulling her bag along, she knocked on the door. "Grandpa! It's me, Emily. Hello, anyone there?" She sighed as she looked at the deplorable condition of the home. She was dressed in a one-piece with no bra on.

Curtis Smith groaned softly as his nap was ruined, hearing the calling out of a young woman. The 82-year-old man sighed, looking down at his naked body which was lying on top of his bed, no sheets covering him at all. A light layer of sweat covered his wrinkled body, due to the effort it took for him to move. "In here," he replied loudly, struggling to sit up. From the angle she would have when she walked in, Emily would find herself standing between her grandfather's legs, seeing his fairly impressive cock, extremely hairy balls, and even his hairy ass crack. She would see it immediately upon entering the room, without having the chance to look away. "Oh, you're my new caretaker then?" he asked, looking at her. His glasses were on a bedside table, so he did not recognise her as his granddaughter. "C'mon then, help me into the shower. I'm all sweaty," he told her, his tone slightly rough and rude.</s>

The Purpose of This Thread: ClearSight and Javorcek have short attention spans. They've made many, many threads, and many, many characters together. Sometimes they would like to go back and play with old characters and old stories, but can't because then the old plots wouldn't make sense. In order to keep the story lines of those threads linear, rather than creating a cluster fuck of randomness, they're going to post flashbacks/plot jumps and all sorts of random encounters/one-shots/things in here. The Golden Rule: ClearSight and Javorcek HAVE TO finish the current scene before moving onto the next one. Universes we will be dabbling in: Mass Effect The 100 Characters of our own creation that have been established and will be returning: War and Greed Tragedy Unfolds An Even More Psychotic Biotic Hope she's home for once...Jack mused to herself as she got off the elevator that was taking her to the high rise apartment that she was sharing with Miranda Lawson. They weren't -really- living together...Jack still had her quarters down at the Alliance section of the Citadel, but Miranda's space was bigger, Jack didn't have much in the way of personal belongings, and the young biotic's pet varren, Eezo, liked this apartment more...there were way more shoes to chew on here than at Jack's. Plus, Miranda was hardly ever home, so it wasn't like they were inconveniencing her. The older biotic was always down in the Research Labs, working on the Crucible that was supposed to be the answer to the Reaper War. She worked long hours, longer than even Jack did, and seemed to like to come home to leftovers of whatever Jack had made and the young biotic sleeping in a bed that was nice and warm for her. When Jack entered the apartment and didn't get her ass floored by a very excited varren, she started to grow concerned. "Miri? Eezo?" The young biotic called. Eezo hadn't eaten her girlfriend...had he? Yeah, he played rough with Miranda, sometimes put her in a singularity field, one time bit her so bad that they had actually had to go to the hospital (but that had been when he first met Miranda), but he wouldn't just maul her to death... Miranda pissed her off too sometimes, but the Cheerleader was still intact and Jack had an even shorter temper than her pet varren. Guess they're out playing...That thought seemed less probable than the one of Miranda and Eezo killing eachother, but it was the only one that made even a little bit of sense. "Guess I'll go shower..." Jack muttered to herself as she took off her combat boots and then traveled further into the apartment. She lit up the Omnitool on her wrist along the way, just to double check her messages to see if Miranda had said where she had gone and taken Eezo.

Miranda knew a lot of people, and one of those individuals was quite powerful, Tevos. At one point they had been enemies of sorts, pitted against each other in backdoor dealings Miranda had often taken charge of as part of Cerberus. After changing allegiances Miranda found herself on more common ground with the woman and they would often meet to discuss things they couldn't share with other company. They weren't exactly friends, Miranda didn't make many of those, but they were convenient sounding boards, occasionally they worked together, and just once they found themselves sharing a bed, but that had been before Jack and her separation from Cerberus, a night after too many drinks and some lip... Guh, Miranda hated thinking about the few times she lost control, but it had still been Tevos who made the first move. It was before their serious romances however, and that was far behind them, far enough that the last time they drank together it had become a rather childish, my girlfriend is more dominant than yours thing. Jack against Aria, it really was quite the comparison. Powerful, young, dominant Jack against experienced, sadistic, and clever Aria. Even Miranda wasn't sure which one would win, but she had insisted it was Jack no matter what. What Miranda hadn't expected, was opening up her door a few days later and being slammed against a wall by powerful biotics - a smirking Aria and calm Tevos in front of her. Even Eezo was subdued, being put in a back room by Aria while Tevos nipped at Miranda's ear, a gentle "We'll see who's more powerful..." Miranda growled, absolutely furious, she hated being taken advantage of and barely stood for it with Jack, because of love, but with Tevos and Aria, she was glaring and angry, angry enough to act if she found an opportunity, but it was one that never came. "Don't, unless you want me to be rough with the sapling when she gets here." Aria gave her a glare that drove home the meaning, threatening harm to Jack in order to keep Miranda in line... There were only two people she would put her pride aside for... Her sister, and Jack. Jack... Maybe she would have a chance when her lover got home, Jack wouldn't go down without a fight after all. Tevos had other plans however, turning Miranda around and pulling her hands to her back, moments later a click of cuffs being placed around her making Miranda turn her head with fire in her eyes. "Just in case, I would hate for you to do something silly. Besides, I still owe you for that one night..." Tevos was always composed, calm beyond measure, and it made it difficult to read her. Aria was much easier to read, grinning as she looked over and watched as Tevos secured Miranda, licking her lips as Tevos' hand brushed across Miranda's delicious curves. Miranda Lawson - a gorgeous whore if ever she had seen one. She had thoughts about her when they first met, if not for Shepard and Miranda having use she may have tried something... She never liked Cerberus, reason enough to try. So the moment Tevos had told her about the conversation between herself and Miranda, Aria had been intrigued... Mainly because nobody was going to be more dominant than her, but also because Miranda and Jack were both... Rare women, enough to inspire quite appetite for the Ruler of Omega. "Tevos... Go play with her on the bed, when Jack comes in and sees her being toyed with I'm sure she won't be expecting me." Aria grinned, excited and arrogant, but not stupid, an element of surprise was only smart with a psychotic biotic that rivaled herself... In both power and insanity.</s>

The last several hours had changed her life completely. Upon momentary contemplation, she could not pinpoint an exact moment when she knew that her place in this universe had been altered completely; rather, it was a collection of moments. Arguably, it all began when she left Jakku. Somehow, she ended up here. Strapped to a chair with her heart beating violently in her chest -- the infamous Kylo Ren was the first thing she saw when she woke. She had challenged him, that much she was more than aware of, as she had prompted him to remove his masked helmet. What she saw was not the fearsome man that she had anticipated, but rather someone strangely deep and alluring. Terrifying and violent, but alluring regardless. He had violated her; visiting and dancing around in her mind, uninvited and intrusively. The brunette woman protested, writhing and squirming away from him as he exploited her secret thoughts, reciting her loneliness to her as though this was some sort of game to him. All the while, she felt something strange and unfamiliar building up in her very core. A power that she wasn't capable of understanding or controlling. Her eyes boldly locked into his cold and hostile stare, digging into him as he had just done to her. Rey accused him, quickly sifting through his insecurities and finding his deepest one to bring to the surface. She angled herself forward, wrists still restrained. She did her best to show no fear as she awaited his retort, hoping that she had bested him.

She was stronger than he originally guessed. He had felt the budding power of the Force in her, but he never expected her to be this potent. She had just awoken to the Force and already, she was able to peer deeply into mind and twist him to her desire. She was good, very good. Even though the haze of anger and frustration, he could acknowledge that much. He wanted her...if he could train her, use her for his own purpose...he'd be unstoppable. Ren glared at the girl, her accusation spot on. He would never admit to it though...fear was not suppose to be an emotion he possessed. Instead, his mind entered her own again and did what she had just done. Using all his powers to bypass her mental barriers, he found her deepest fear. "What about you, then...Rey?" He questioned her softly with a smile as he leaned forward, his face close to her own, his hot breath on her neck. "You're afraid...of being worthless....worst than worthless. After all...that must have been while you were abandoned on that backwater planet. Your parents didn't want you, because you were worthless. A life without purpose...with no meaning. Isn't that what you fear?" He asked with a small chuckle as he used the Force to try and sway her emotions as he spoke. His thumb gently brushed over her lips as he whispered hotly in her ear. "I can give you purpose...Rey. If you work with me, I will train you. You life will have meaning. You'll be one of the most powerful warriors in galactic history. You won't just be a speck on a no name planet....isn't that what you want." His hot breath invaded her ear, his mind twisted around inside her like a knife as he tried to get her to see things his way.</s>

The task is difficult because you choose for it to be difficult. Do you ever wonder why you do that so often? Kylo Ren chewed the inside of his cheek. He could feel his sweat pooling against the tile, almost splashing against his bare back. No one could accuse him of a lack of effort. He looked around, but he'd practically designed the room to preclude that. The quarters were spartan - thin, itchy fabric and hard metal. No personal mementos, for obvious reasons. He'd designed his entire life to eliminate pondering and encourage action. But now... You don't conquer a mind, Ren. A mind is a powerful entity. A mind is convinced. He'd been working on the damned probe for months now - with prisoners, with hostages, with dignitaries, even with the odd stormtrooper. He'd gotten glimpses here and there, but for the most part... only headaches. What have I been teaching you? To apply yourself with an open mind. Not to think of yourself as a student of one path or another, but to shed your identity. Snoke insisted that he needed to forgethimselfin order to read someone, that he needed to fully immerse himself in his target... Kylo pulled himself from the floor, threw on a thin set of cotton scrubs, followed it with his ceremonial robes and mask, before heading to the ad-junction room of theGauntlet. As usual, most people studiously ignored him - and since he rarely made an entrance on the bridge, most of the staff could go on pretending he didn't exist. Gauntlet. What a name for a ship. "Fedorre," Ren says with a smile. "It's a pleasure to see you alive." "It's a pleasure to see you awake, Ren." The Admiral sneers down his long nose at him, as if Kylo hadn't personally saved his fucking life at Gyndine. He's like every Order officer he's interacted with the last couple of years. All narrow eyes, rudeness, and barely concealed nervousness. "Do you know what system you're in?" "Mimban." "Chandrila. You were quite a bit off." "Are you here to demonstrate your superior knowledge, or..." "I'm here to relay orders. They're directly from the Supreme Leader." "About the blockade?" Fedorre presses his lips together and nods, as if impressed. "It's been almost a year without any real results. He's seen fit to break that blockade." That's not the sort of thing that would need his particular skills. A large-scale planetary invasion? When he was still supposed to be tracking Skywalker? There was no chance he'd be there. So... "You want me to go planetside." "The Supreme Leader wants you to speak to the Governor of Chandrila. He assured me that you'd be able to convince him to surrender the planet." Never was he so happy to be wearing this mask. He swallows. He'd never been able to do it properly. And now the Supreme Leader wanted him to do some special operation? With an entire planet at stake? "I know Chandrila's military doesn't have the finest reputation, but sending me down there alone is ridiculous." "Oh. I never said you'd be going alone."

" . . Got to be a fucking clone," he said out of jest and slight tease. That was usually the last line of someone's mind working in defense, making a joke in a situation that they felt absolutely screwed in. In situations where one needed a distraction, it was like some chemical the brain released to keep one from realizing they were basically right at the edge of shitting themselves. That being said, she didn't really mind being compared to one of those failed attempts from a previous regime, the comparison made with connection of the body on top of him being smooth and swift in her action. The year before when they had heard the rumor of a woman joining their ranks, there had been faint whispers made with excitement, expecting another to slip behind one of numerous controlled, desk positions. She couldn't mentally handle it. To say the very least just the idea was boring, but the lifestyle itself made her want to be sucked out into the atmosphere, but in bringing her mind back into the reality, her fist raised as her eyes regained focus to the man beneath her trying to nearly suck his head and helmet into his body to avoid the punch. Rare should the situation turn into having someone attack you without a weapon, but the simulation proving as such when the scene around them disappeared, the sound of gears shifting and something within the walls humming reminding her that this was merely practice. "Hm," he said, rubbing his jaw where she had hit him. Standing now after pulling her opposite hand away from the gulping neck, the fingers on each hand wiggled softly before a faint nod was given and the thud of her boots carried her away. Helmet straight in her walk through the hall, the light chatter was no distraction, entering her chambers with a soft whoosh of the sliding door, gloved hands freeing herself from the helmet's confines. Breathing out softly, her eyes wandered aimlessly to the mirror out of a habit recently gained by change, closing the distance to her reflection and shifting her fingers through her hair. It was rare that she was without her helmet, deciding it long ago to simply keep herself from being apparent unless speaking, though the change almost gave a twinge of relief that wasn't often felt. The choppy haired woman's head turned sharply when the knock came from outside, glaring sharply at the door as she awaited the words that followed. "Admiral Fedorre has requested to speak to you, by order of Supreme Leader-" "Leave." Almost instantly at her request, she could have sworn she heard the lips of the stormtrooper outside her door form into a line before he left, eyes tracing the lines in the floor before meeting back to her helmet. While she wasn't particularly in favor of having the Admiral wait, and with this she clicked the Commander pauldron onto her arm, the white suited stormtrooper slid the helmet back over her head before leaving her quarters again. While there was no real joy in going to see the Admiral, there was almost equally no joy in figuring out why he had that snarky look on his face, breathing out within her concealment just in time to hear, ". . . I never said you'd be going alone. " Clearly the Admiral was one for dramatics. Nodding her head softly in greeting to the shorter Fedorre, in proper lighting, the stormtrooper could cast one hell of a shadow over him, though that would be something to laugh at when she was alone later. "He is sending you with Commander Phasma, to persuade him to release the planet to us. It is inhabited, so you will be among civilians." Though no protest was heard, the slight tilt of her head was evident when the woman heard the short version of what was happening, realizing she probably should have just pretended she hadn't heard anything at all. Pretended she hadn't heard the request, pretended she was busy doing something else. But this was for the First Order, and she had a duty. Unfortunately that meant dealing with others. Others who weren't conditioned, others who weren't trained to kill since childhood. Just simply civilians. Just the thought made her stomach churn.</s>

After weeks... or rather months of searching, the Batman had finally found the safehouse of a woman who was going around and leaving the most powerful men in Gotham broken and beaten. Most had their balls destroyed to the point that they might not ever have the chance to have children, and those who weren't that beaten simply got lucky. Maybe the police arrived and ended up saving them, maybe they didn't put up much of a fight. Either way, months of searching brought the Caped Crusader to her hideout so he could bring her down. A gentle flap of his black leather cape from the cool night air was the only indication that the massive man landed on the roof of the warehouse. His dark shadow slinking across the roof until it stopped at an open window. Below him, he could see a belt rolling what looked to be sex toys across the warehouse. While this was strange to the Batman, it wasn't against any laws. He stepped up into the open skylight window and dropped down. Spinning with his open cape, the grey and black armored man landed on a single knee and slowly stood up. He grasped a flashlight and clicked a button, shining light in the dark warehouse, slowly scanning the room around him, unaware of the danger he was really in.

Emily slid into the shadows of the warehouse, watching as Batman conducted his careful search. She knew every inch of this place; even in the dark she could place her feet silently. She was resolved, but not without a pang of regret. Even at this distance, she could feel his power. Like so many of her friends, she had woken at night with her thighs sodden and her nipples taut and tingling having dreamt of him. No wonder half the women of Gotham wanted to breed off this man. But that was not to be, would never be. Her plot had been long in the making and now it was coming to fruition. Just like she knew it would. Anyone with any sense, knowing how many men had lost their masculinity in this place, would have come with a squad of police to surround the building and ensure that Emily was overpowered. But he was too confident, too arrogant, too eager to show that he was better than other men. Well, he would be proved wrong. She would show him that he was just like other men. His own masculinity would bring about his downfall. She moved behind a pillar as Batman passed close by. So close, she was sure she could smell his testosterone. Which reminded her of why she was here. She closed her eyes to remember her lover, now incarcerated for 25 years to life. And all because of Batman. It wasn't the loss of a man between her thighs that upset her. Men were replaceable. Nor was she concerned about the length of the sentence. He deserved that and more. No, it was the way Batman had dealt with him. He hadn't been content just to capture him. He had to put on a show to attract publicity for himself by making a spectacle of her lover, humiliating him. He would pay for that. His humiliation would be worse, far worse. She moved down the warehouse, away from Batman.</s>

The swirling cutie mark hovered almost directly over Twilight's castle.The princess of friendshipfrowned as she looked at it, studying it curiously. Nearby she could hear her assistant and dragon-boy spike shifting and climbing up to look at it himself. Spike had just hit full maturity, which sometimes made him a little difficult to handle, though Twilight still loved him anyway. Dealing with his crush on Rarity, however... "That's definitely the castle, right?" she asked. "It seems like it's indicating right here. I would almost expect to see it glowing right above us," she fluttered her fingers before bringing them down to stroke her chin. Spike was already asking if she needed to contact them or anything like that, but Twilight shook her head. "We should definitely find it out though," she focused, magical energy shining at her forehead. They sometimes called her people "unicorns," which she thought amusing. Well, technically speaking, Twilight was an "alicorn" now: she could produce the feathered wings on her back and actually fly. That had come with the whole princess of friendship business, as had this castle and these assignments. Twilight approached slowly, purple magic swirling about her horn. She was, of course, wearing her usual around the castle wear: a purple tartan skirt, kneesocks that matched her cutie-mark, a white blouse with a deep purple vest over it, and a string tie about her throat. Technically her mark would show just above her haunch, near her bottom, but she kept all but the bottom tip of that hidden with the skirt. Said skirt shifted as Twilight approached. The light seemed to shimmer, and Twilight was already waving her hands, readying a revealing spell.

To the blind eye, what Twilight Sparkle was seeing just outside of her castle walls had indeed been Flash Sentry. The young guard looked every bit the same as he always did, with his current garments consisting of a rather casual wear which included a pair of jeans, white shirt and black jacket, as opposed to the royal armor which hed often wear when seen on duty. His blue hair was fairly messy, but in that stylishly messy way that girls often liked on a guy. Similarly, the Pegasus wings that he often had out when working were gone for the time being, thus giving an unobstructed view of the young male who stood outside of Twilights castle for an unknown, yet seemingly nonthreatening purpose. The truth, however, was that Flash had been there under a unique arrangement organized with the assistance of a certain Chaos God. A Chaos God which watched on through a small portal window, unseen anywhere near the not-what-he-seemed guards location, while relaxing in a floating position that replicated somebody laying back on a couch. Hmm. Personally, I do not know what she sees in him. Discord mused while tossing back a handful of popcorn that was suddenly levitating at his side; chewing upon the mouthful and swallowing it down while adding, Buuuut, I suppose it doesnt really matter for somebody with your talents, does it? An amused chuckle slipped from the chimera dragons wide mouth, as he informed the changeling, Now, look sharp, Flash. It seems like our royal-ness is on her way over to see if anythings wrong. With that, the changeling awaiting Twilights appearance would no longer be able to hear Discords voice, but the chaotic being would still be watching the entirety of the unfolding events. Now this is a lesson that should prove very entertaining. He considered to himself, as the straw of a large soda came up to his lips on its own, which he promptly began to slurp loudly at while his eyes remained glued onto the scene. For his part, Thorax was a touch reluctant at deceiving Twilight, but Discords offer of a chance at feeding upon the love of such a powerful source as the Princess of Friendship was too tempting for the rehabilitating changeling to pass up. Of course, the slight magical boost to his appetite by Discord didnt hurt matters. At the sound of Twilights footsteps approaching from behind, the male awaited until she was close enough to pull off the act, as he suddenly turned to face the book smart cutie and accidentally stepped right into the Princess enough to knock her off her feet. Oh, Princess! Im sorry! I didnt see you there. He quickly apologized, then offering up a helpful hand while flashing a familiar smile as he added, Were making a pretty bad habit of this, arent we? The coaching by Discord would prove useful, as Thorax rather perfectly mirrored the way the pair had met literally bumped into each other in the past while offering to help her up.</s>

Captain's Coming What happens when a good trainer and a bad ex-grunt fall in lust? Mizushima Kaiyo wasn't quite used to being called by her name again yet, and that fact bothered her. She was leaning over the edge of a pier at Lilycove Harbor, feeling the sea breeze whip through her hair. Closing her eyes and smelling the salt, she could almost bring herself back to being in Izumi's office, ordered off on new and exciting missions for the good of Aqua's Glorious Mission. She could hear the voices of her crew, the sobbing of insolent Magmas, the notes of distant work shanties ghosting over the ocean. The sweet laugh of a tanned shipmate, the adrenaline rush of battling at her side, the touch of gentle calloused hands after all the cabin lights had gone out... No, Kaiyo, keep yourself together, girl. None of that. Really, she couldn't regret "jumping ship" when she did, though. It was only three weeks later the whole thing went crumbling to dust at the hands of a ten year old riding the green dragon. Ridiculous, really. She knew a few of her former cell were talking about bringing Aogiri's vision back to life, but she knew that would be a sad failure. Still, hanging out in a coastal town without any true drive or purpose was starting to get to her. She needed adventure, excitement, full sails. She was startled from her reminiscing by the tap-tap-tap of footsteps coming up at her on the pier. She quickly regained her poker face, wrinkling her nose slightly and squaring her shoulders. There was every possibility she was going to turn to see some asshole in red, and like hell was she going to let them see that they caught her daydreaming. She cleared her throat to lower her voice and spun on her heel. "Oi oi, who do you think you are, sneaking up on--"she started, but her voice was cut off in her throat when she saw the girl in front of her.

For the past six months now, Kacey had been in the Hoenn region ever since she became a fully-fledged Pokemon trainer. It was something she had always wanted to do ever since she had been allowed to help care for her parents pokemon back on their ranch. She had even been counting down the days until she was able to set out on her adventure. It had always been a dream of hers, and she still often found it hard to believe she was now living her dream. Since she had started her adventure, she had managed to build up a team of Pokemon that she was extremely proud of. The starter pokemon she received at the beginning of her adventure was a Treecko which had now evolved into Grovyle. The first pokemon she had captured was a Taillow which had recently evolved into Swellow. Next, she was able to capture a Poochyena that had only recently evolved into Mightyena a few short days ago. Also on her team was an Electrike and a Heracross she had captured a few weeks ago. Finally, completing her current team was Staryu. There was a smile on Kaceys face as she had finally made it to Lilycove City. Having recently turned 17, she was glad to have made it to Lilycove at last. It would mean she could rest up with her team before moving on again. Kaceys long red hair was tied up in a high ponytail and blew gently in the wind as she made her way to the Lilycove Harbor. She was dressed in a pink and white top that showed off a tiny bit of her C-cup cleavage and also some of her toned and tanned midriff. She also had on a pair of white short shorts that showed off her long, tanned legs and she had on a pair of white and pink sneakers. Kacey made her way up to the edge of the pier and stopped just as the other girl turned around to face her.Uhh.sorry! I wasnt sneaking up on you! I was just coming here to relax for a bit! I only want to see the ocean from here!She held her hands up in front of her in something of a defensive manner.Ive only just got into Lilycove anyway!She walked around Kaiyo and stood beside her at the edge of the pier.</s>

Dream Eater ~ Johto Adventures Blake Black Klayton & Samantha Cross Crackle, pop, pop. Bubblebubblebubble. A small flame flickered and danced beneath a squat silver pot, within which a broth bubbled, and rolled, making the occasional vegetable peek up from below. The scent wafted up into the air and permeated the area, and would likely be one of the first signs of people being present if one didn't notice the smoke from the flame. Rustling from the nearby tall grasses to either side of the road hinted that the scent had drawn the attention of some nearby Pokmon, the movements of the critters distinct from the rustle of grasses and trees due to the light breeze. A breeze which also helped the cooking meal's odour travel. An odour which, while not absolutely foul, did hint the cook could use a few... dozen lessons, and that anyone who might come to join them consider wisely the value of their tastebuds. Just beyond the tall grasses lay numerous trees, though a fair few here and there rose up from the grass to partially shadow the road from the sinking sun. It wasn't quite yet night, but it was certainly only a few hours away, and the cool air had already settled in. The road itself was route 38, heading west out of Ecruteak town, towards Olivine City. That was where Samantha was headed: not for any particular reason beyond it was close to the ocean, and she was certain the lighthouse would provide quite the view. However, one unfortunate incident halted her progress and that was why she now found herself setting up camp several hours out from Ecruteak. Too far to walk back before the night set in when it was always more dangerous, especially with the rumours of ghosts about. Her legs were flanked either side of the fire, spread apart and stretched out leaving her black leggings hugging tight to her body. The heels of her bare feet rested on a pair of unworn sandals to keep them out of the dirt, and her knees were bent up to keep her bare, smooth legs off the dirt as well. Samantha had rolled up the legs of her bottoms to mid thigh, and it wasn't to make some lewd display. Anyone drawing close would see a fair few scrapes and cuts, like she'd been running through a thorned brush. There weren't more than a dozen or so, but that didn't make them sting any less! Regardless, the first aid kit she used to clean the wounds was open beside her, and she was occasionally grabbing bandages from it to place over the larger cuts in between stirring her meal and reading the book open to her opposite side. "Ow!"she hissed as an absentminded reach for the spoon in the pot made her fingers brush the burning hot metal exterior. She yanked her hand back and flinched, shaking her hand out in the air before more cautiously returning, stirring, and grabbing her fourth bandage. Her expression turned grumpy - Samantha wasn't having a good day - her blue eyes kept that awful pot in the corner of them as she proceeded. The last thing she needed or wanted after earlier was a burn. Short, blonde hair spilled down around her face, she leaned over, and inspected her toned, and slightly tanned skin for the next largest cut. As one can expect of someone on a Pokmon adventure, the blonde was rather fit. Thin, but with toned muscles in her legs and arms that hinted at more than just someone who exercises--an athlete. Keen eyes spotting the one-piece bikini sticking out of the open knapsack leaning against the tree a few feet to her left might have a good idea what sport. Next to the knapsack was a smaller carry bag and purse, and next to those a drenched pair of purple sneakers. They were absolutely drenched and still wet, and if one wanted to know the depth of the puddle that was responsible for that they need only look up and to the right at the jeans hanging from a low branch. From knee-down they were dark and wet, and from knee-down torn and frayed in places. A bundled bedroll completed the gathering of Samantha's belongings, leaned against the tree to the other side of the knapsack. Samantha shivered, and lifted her head to glance about. A sudden chill through her spine, and she considered grabbing her jacket. The violet halter top she wore left her arms and shoulders exposed to the crisp air, and any who might approach given she was camped out right beside the path. She was fortunate to find the small clearing for her little fire, and fortunate still that anyone approaching would see her from the side. The girl was quite oblivious to the way she sat, and the view anyone standing in front of her would see even with the fire and cookware in the way. While she didn't appear to have a Pokmon with her at first glance, a close inspection of the first aid kit would show a miniaturized Pok Ball resting in one of the open spaces, within easy reach. What Samantha Cross did appear to be was all on her own.

A man with long dark hair and a silvery lab coat had traversed the dark and cold night forest. Without a light, he made casual steps forward and weaved between trees when necessary. Like those dark pictures with a strange figure barely visible, at every angle, this man didn't shiver or pull out a phone for a light. As if he were comfortable moving from the couch to the kitchen in his own home, foot after foot, nothing slowed him down. Tall like a Christmas tree and on the thin side, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for a child to mistake him for the well-dressed and faceless urban legend. Except for his long lab coat and flowing coal-like hair. To his amusement, the cold air had introduced a satisfying crunch in the grass with each of his steps. The rustlings of wild pokemon seemed to grow as he moved closer and closer to the next town. Without a phone light, or a flashlight, or the burning candle or a Charizard's tale, the man in the lab coat knew he wouldn't put off the tell-tale signs of being a human trainer. With this decision, he greatly reduced the chance of inviting wild pokemon encounters. The sounds he gave off with each step, his height, these were the only details that those wild pokemon had to measure how much of a threat he would be. Since wild pokemon don't tend to carry lights, and it's human nature to know where they might be stepping by using a flashlight, it wasn't too much of a stretch for these pokemon to be wary of approaching him. Though outside observation might lead one to the idea that his decision to go without a light was directly related to keeping a low profile. This couldn't be entirely true. As the rustling subsided in some fashion, the young man had fished a candy cane from his coat pocket. His fingers worked the plastic wrapping over the craned end before he stuck the top of it in his mouth. The corners of his lips lifting as he enjoyed the peppermint treat, absentmindedly allowing the scent of his treat to fill the air around him. His identity as a human and possibly a pokemon trainer now vividly obvious to the hoards of wild pokemon that surrounded him. Pokemon began to approach him from behind, a small one, he didn't care to identify it. Becoming close enough for a vine whip or bubble attack, the small Pokmon paused as if ready for an attack. A tongue had grown to cartoonish size from nowhere before running straight up the face of the wild Pokmon. That large tongue vanished as quickly as it appeared before the wild Pokmon seemed to stiffen and fall over. Like a small toy being left behind, the man in the lab coat didn't look back or try to defeat or capture the paralyzed Pokmon. None of the casual trainer pleasures to be had, the man in the lab coat had his eyes focused on a different set of pleasures as he continued moving forward. His curiosities pulled him in that direction as his pleasure was founded in answering the questions that spawned those curiosities. "Good job, Ghastly," he mumbled flatly around his candy cane. The sound of a low cackle enchanted the air behind him. Before long, the light of a fire caught this young man's attention as he previously traveled strictly in the moonlight. The fire glow was easy to discern even with his distance. His steps grew in pace as he weaved around the nearby trees until he could see into the clearing, standing behind a single tree as his left eye peered through his glasses toward a beautiful young blonde. She was still so far away, his vision blurred between her legs and her fire. Suddenly, his pseudo-romantic desire to study her would grow, and the physical contact required to adequately pursue that studying would captivate his imagination. An invisible orb-like shape had brushed against his midsection, gathering his attention in an oddly pet-like way. Glancing to the side that was brushed, the young man let a warm smile grow as he removed the candy cane from his lips. Removing the plastic completely, the man dangled the treat in the air near him before releasing it. Immediately, the treat would vanish. The air around the young man now taking an intoxicatingly peppermint scent and flavor, he stepped out from around the tree and began his casual stride toward the woman. His height might have been intimidating, but his lab coat and relatively thin frame with glasses could be fairly disengaging. However, behind the rim of his glasses had set a cool set of facial features. Absent of color, minus the redness around the bridge of his nose, he would seem cold and yet darkly handsome. The paleness of his skin paired with his handsome features would certainly set him apart from the nerdy young Pokmon trainers that would positively screech to catch a Magnemite. He grew closer and closer as his eyes ran over the young woman, inevitably catching her attention as his steps would cause sounds that would grow louder than the flickers of her fire.</s>

Lady Syn Yronwood F It would have been as dark and silent as a grave if it wasn't for the flame torch glittering in the distance. She couldn't even see her own hands. I might as well shut my eyes. She trod slowly, her feet testing the ground before carrying her weight. Gusts of air blew around her, and she suddenly realized she was naked as her nameday. The dampness between her legs and beneath her arms tickled, and her nipples hardened almost instantly. The longer she walked, the stronger the winds blew, and she could see the torch dancing in the distance, wrestling with the winds like a flapping flag. Yet when the maiden approached the torch, it died instantly. Lovely. Another torch lit itself in the distance, and the girl followed the trail. Each time she reached a torch, it died before she could touch it, and another torch appeared some ten yards away. With time her steps became surer, and the girl started running, her hair flying behind her like a banner. Am I running in circles? She ran from one torch to the next, then to the next, then to the next. She never saw the broken glass on the ground. Her legs quivered and she sank to the ground in tears and muffled cries of pain. I need to move on, she urged herself and crawled; Her hands moved before the rest of her body and pulled her forward. The princess was feet away from the torch when a beast jumped at her from behind and gnawed at her shoulders. The dog barked as she turned to face it. "Ahhhh!" She barked back, and the corridor echoed her hopeless shriek back at her. When the dog made for her throat, Syn woke up frantically. She was wet with sweat from head to toe, and panting and shivering at the same time. Her hazel eyes moved from right to left and back as the reality of the situation came down to her. Next to her, her handmaiden Yuna had been sleeping like a kitten but when she felt the sheets shift, her eyes fluttered and she smiled warmly. "Good morning, my sweet princess," the handmaiden remembered her courtesies, but then moved a hand to gently rub her princess's chestnut nipples. "Not today, sweetling. Have the maids make a bath." They bathed her in water scented with Dorne's finest fruits; lemons and oranges, then they burned incense and ran the aromatic smoke through her brown hair. She wore a Myrish lace that morning, dark purple and black, with her house sigil embroidered in bronze on her back; a portcullis sable. Syn walked the stairs of the Sand Dome all the way to the highest floor where her lord father, Anders Yronwood, resided. The princess walked in her father's room without knocking on the door, and greeted him with a warm smile and a warmer hug. She kissed him on the brow, "Father, you look livelier this morning" she lied. The lord of Yronwood was ghastly sick. He'd die the second he sneezes Syn realized dreadfully, but smiled at her father's own crooked smile. He only had one tooth left, and the only things he could move were his lips and eyes. They bathed him at his bed, and fed him and wiped his shit at the same place as well. It was painful for Syn to see her once mighty father reduced to a blinking corpse. He was the Warden of the Stone Way, and ruled the strategic Yronwood Castle; the last fortress defending the Boneway. He was named "The Bloodroyal"; a title that passed down from generations to whoever was the head of the house. A day will come when they call me The Bloodroyal, the thought was appealing even to the dutiful daughter. Almost as if the wise gods answered her pleas, her father gasped then started coughing blood. Syn's eyes widened like a cat at her father's sudden spasms, then she fumbled around to fetch him water but the water vase on her right was dry. A handmaiden heard her distraught and ran to bring her the water from the kitchen. "Hold strong, dear father. Juhaqa will soon be back with water to relieve your throat". Lord Anders Yronwood relieved his throat with a gush of blood. "Father!" she teared up, and The Bloodroyal leaked more royal blood from around her tongue. Syn shook him, pinned him down, hugged him and kissed his temple to calm him down, but her kisses didn't ease his struggle. He raised a finger her way for a few seconds before he collapsed dead. She gulped, and tasted his blood on her lips from when she kissed him. The room was soon crowded with family and retainers.

Ser Tamir Yronwood F Enraptured fervidly onto the political strife-inducing state of Dorne lately, simpering by the current of the winds escaping from outdoors, passed the spacious window in which he stood. Westeros struck the initiative with the death of Oberyn Martell in a vengeful incited trial of combat against the infamous Gregor Clegane. The gods retain twisted humor on your fate...Red Viper. This irony wasn't lost to Tamir for the atrocities committed in the prince's youth against one of his own. Complicating matters based on eavesdropping from those swayed with ambitions for his family was the tirade this inflicted onto the Martells with his bastards and paramour seeking retributions. Despite the equipoise behind these duels and whom it concerned, even his Dorishmen pride could not deny where to pick one's battles and where pragmatism can work subtly. Privy to extensive access to knowledge since his conjoined youth with Syn, several bookcases decorated the room comparable to the embroidery of one's tunic. Subjugated to the slovenly rule of the Martell bloodline diluting them through the relationships of foreigners. Subterfuge, currency, and an unhinged devotion for dominance was all that helped cling to their rule and to those with keener senses the aphotic manifestations vying for its prestige title and reputation back. A clamorous knock reverberated his eardrum, swerved with mild curiosity never conceding with the appropriate facial expressions pressed into a stoned imprint of sternness. A wiry fellow barring a station practically nonexistent, the gods accursed the degenerate with seemingly crooked dentures more courteous for the wildlife than him and a complexion darkened by a repugnant breeding with Salty Dornishmen like the Martells with slight distinguishing marks of the lands of a Westerosi. Disregarding everything, he was family or scarcely being a cousin far banished from the mere joys of station thanks to his bastard blood. Quite swift in movement, Niall Sand came before his presence with narrowed hues mindful of surroundings. " I..I bring news from my visit from Sunspear itself. The Sand snakes bring complete discord to the foundation of the Martells. Surely this be a sign of a return to old, eh?" "Splendid," Impeccable timing blessed the Yronwoods from afar without showing their hand, amusement for once not disciplined through an ominous grimace. Laded in the shadows unlike dear Syn, the plots intertwining into his devious minds knew no bounds, no morality if it instilled a sense of power where the title Bloodroyal held its true strength once more. Delay depended on the fleeing health of father, even his aloof disposition dare not tamper with the respect he deserves. Half dressed, a boisterous whistle often times a chime to signal for maids was met with urgency. Instead, the greeting came from commotions not too far from his dwellings. Brandishing his revealed torso with a dark tunic ingrained in patterns of silver while amidst the haste of slipping on his sleeveless surcoat of dark gold pigment with stitching of his house embellished blatantly on the back rushing out the door in a frantic state. The disturbance is coming from Father's...by the new gods..no , Unnerved by the acceleration of the turmoil befalling him simultaneous towards the joyous occasion was another cord of irony the gods probably relished at the games mortals bestow upon themselves. A whimsical whistle exhibited by the curling of his tongue was synonymous for nimble communication, priding himself on the guards who stampeded with a protective formation formulating around one of the heirs out of precaution. Immersed amongst family and retainers was Tamir, vision bulging at the bloody sight of his sister and now deceased father. Hushed whispers manifested Tamir's conscious shuffling at the array of scenarios of how this could dare occur. Insidious plots percussed his mind, ascension one step closer as he gradually came closer to embrace his sister in a tender, yet firm show of affection. Conveying a flocculent means of conversation with Syn, what he yearned for was just awaiting him, but it heeded a subtly, deception, and most of all never following back unlike the Sand Snakes as contention came so close. " ....He's gone, isn't he? Please tell me the kindness affronted to him was mundane and not by avaricious for power or one's revenge ?</s>

Glaceon and Espeon were sleeping in a bed at the home of an unknown individual. They were trying to get some good night's rest, sleeping almost completely nude, and sharing the same bed.

Umbreon and Leafon looked at each other and chuckled softly before Umbreon, who had been nicknamed Moonlight, and Leafeon, who had been named Leafy, both snuck up on the two sleeping pokemon. Master was out right now so the girl had full roam, and Umbren snuck up behind Espeon and began to softly lick her pussy while Leafeon would be nibbling at Espeon's ear, though they made sure not to alert Glaceonto to their presence.</s>

Curtis' fingers rattled along his desk as he waited for his next patient. It was amazing to him, surreal even, knowing that he would be the therapist to the one and only Emma Watson. He had been watching her on the news the last few weeks, crumbling under the pressure from her various rough roles recently, as well as those who believed in male supremacy threatening her for her feminist beliefs. So while it was no surprise that she needed a therapist, it was definitely a shocker when it was he that received the call from her agent. So now, he was waiting for Emma to arrive. Thankfully, she was only two minutes late when she walked in, shaking his hand as he told her to take a seat. The room she walked into was of a fairly usual size for an office. It had a large desk with two seats for guests to sit at. Behind the desk hung diplomas and awards that he had received, which would solidify his experience and expertise to potential clients. Behind the guests's chairs was a stereotypical therapist's lounge for clients, and a massage table was laid out. "Miss Watson, it's a pleasure to meet you. Now, as you have apparently been told by whoever recommended me, my methods are very different to most. I focus on ensuring patients begin and finish my session with a feeling of relief, becoming stress-free, or at least less stressed. The average success rate of a client's positive progress from a therapist is about 62.7%. My success rate is 99.7%. That slight notch was only due to an elderly client passing away before we got too far." The therapist explained, sounding sad. "Because of my success rate, I take a no-nonsense approach to my therapy. If I ask you to do something in my session, you will do it. If I ask you to perform an exercise outside of the therapy, you will do it. Does that sound alright? I promise that I can be friendly, and will be in a few moments, but we needed to get that out of the way... now... I would like you to strip and lay on your stomach on the massage table. I use massage as a relaxant, while I get you to talk about your issues."

Twenty-one. She had just turned twenty-one, and already had sixteen awards, another five where she was nominated... And more was on the way. Growing up and becoming an adult while still coveted for being the actor who IS Hermione meant that she had some troubles already. Only two more years, and her first serious relationship was over. A horrendous breakup with Matt Janney in December 2014, and she tried to handle it in the most mature way possible. That Christmas alone got her staying silent in Canada, and she realized that her accomplishments and success scared men away, and maybe finding a younger boyfriend almost the same age as her brother Alexander was not the best choice. Emma tried to break out of her public image as Hermione, accepting thriller roles... Trying to become an action hero... And of course doing the job as the UN Goodwill Ambassador, telling the UN General Assembly that universities need to be a safe space against campus sexual and racial assault, for women and people of color. Some of the reactions almost broke her. With almost 50 nominations and winning 20 awards, she felt that she already managed to accomplish everything professionally - what more she could aspire to? With almost no personal life, living with cats and a smaller brother, even her pet hamster who died... Her friend Sophie Sumner got her to the realization that she needed some professional help, and fast. She even shared one name, who was later called by her US agent Esther if he would attend to Charlotte Duerre, a young actress with fear from the public, self-hate - or more like hating the image others had about her, and overwhelming stress. Only when her first appointment was would she show her well known face... Of course it was more to throw off the paparazzy from her scent, as any would be therapist should be able to put two and two together. Now, she stood in the room and presence of someone who made her feel as if she were in Dr. Freud's office. Almost starting to laugh, she found herself crying instead. Was it really her best choice to ask help from a therapist who wanted her nude and lying down? As the last drop in the full glass, Emma's nerves frayed until they twitchingly complied. Shocked, the actress and model tried to imagine it just being a photo-shoot... or a bathing scene... *He must be really good...* she thought, already doing the math - over three hundred successes - and realizing that his methods must be revolutionary, and while shocking, maybe she wouldn't pass away from the sheer shock, or later from being embarrassed. But... she had problems. Last year it was a real hardship playing Belle in Beauty and the Beast, and while it made her sorely miss the romance and significant other from her life, she found similarities between her role and how she - Belle - was all ready to fall in love with a monster... Emma's personal thoughts were that the Prince should have stayed the Beast... Which told her that she needed some changes in her life. Not even meditating or being a Yoga instructor helped change her thoughts back to normal. Whatever that meant, she didn't know. Emma found the only answer in her books... She had to stop being an actress, and thus also forget being a model. That made her recent - in February 2016 - announcement that she was taking a year-long break from acting. Planning to spend the time on her "personal development" and her women's rights work... a last chance of getting better. Being a little shy - or incredibly modest, if others were asked - Emma turned away and blushed, while taking off her outer clothes. The beige female business suit came off, folded and put down safely. Not her usual style... She kept her comfortable white cotton lingerie on, but took off her medium heeled shoes and sheer pantyhose. Hair left in the serious bun that got her look older and like a secretary with her glasses and sheets of paper she already forgot about outside.</s>

It was mid-Autumn when a trainer entered the town, eager to take on the Laverre Gym Leader and reach his goal of becoming champion. Calem was his name, and he had brought along his large grass-type Pokmon, Chesnaught. "You ready, Chesnaught?" he asked, looking behind him at his companion's grinning face. The Pokmon roared out in response, raising its arms. "Ches! Naught!" it boomed. Only a few days ago, Quilladin had evolved into Chesnaught, and today Calem wanted to test his might against new trainers and new Pokmon. Calem laughed a bit at his companion's enthusiasm as they walked towards the nearest Pokmon Center. He withdrew His Talonflame, Duelblade, and Charmeleon from their pokeballs before leaving the center and heading down the road towards the gym. As he walked, he saw other trainers, some grinning and others flustered, walking past him from the gym. "What? I thought this was a fairy-type gym," he muttered to himself, shaking his head to rid it of worry. He opened the front door and stepped into the gym, ready for battle alongside Chesnaught.

It certainly looked like a fairy gym too as Calem stepped inside as well. Pristine white marble with pillars and gilt, a red and gold carpet, and a trio of green circles, one to the left, one to the right, and one in the dead center of the room. The central circle did nothing when stepped on, even though it looked like a warp pad, but the left and right ones both activated the moment he planted his feet, twisting him into another room. Each of the rooms was like a dollhouse almost, and further reinforced the fairy aspect of the gym. Cute curtains, vibrant and pastel color palettes, lots of whites and pinks and purples and warm earth tones. It was all kept pretty spotlessly clean too, not at all like a poison gym... Then he reached a room of crimson and gold, and unlike the first rooms, this one had a trainer in it, a girl Calem could be fairly certain he might have seen before in a distinctive black and red dress. "Oh, another 'challenger'?" She winked at him with a sly grin. "My name's Kali, and you'll have to satisfy me first before you can hope to face our leader." A pokeball was produced from one broad sleeve and thrown eagerly. "Go Dedenne!"</s>