Enough time passes that he is a long distance from the campus and a far cry from the glittering spires of the Tower District. His geography of Halcyon City is not perfect, but he guesses he's somewhere close to the gothic architecture of Old Town. An old, overgrown cemetery is on the other side of an ivy-choked fence, and run-down buildings line the other side of the street.
That's when he catches a scent he doesn't think he's smelled before, but seems familiar anyway. It's both human and canine. And unmistakably female. Caio stops, curious, but also worried... If this scent meant another werewolf, this was most likely trouble.
Silently, he follows the scent. The trail requires Caio to cross the fence into the graveyard. It's an easy obstacle. The cemetery is abandoned, and nearly reclaimed by the overgrowth.
Her scent is stronger on this side; it's likely she considers this her territory if she has any bestial instincts. Deeper in the grounds and hidden from the street is a dilapidated house -- possibly an old groundskeeper's shack. No lights are on, but Caio picks up a small sign of movement within.
Caio shifts his eyes, but keeps his head low in order for the moon not to reflect on them. He purposefully steps on a couple twigs in order to make his presence known, keeping an eye towards the movement, but trying not to trespass too much.
The movement in the house stops at the sound. A moment later, Caio hears from behind him, "That was deliberate. You're smarter than I took you for, boy." The voice is rough but female, and made distinctive by being spoken by a mouth not designed for human speech but practiced at it.
A figure steps into view. Caio's night vision sees her clearly, though there is only the faintest of lights from the city filtered through the canopy of several hoary trees. She has the classic werewolf look, shaggy fur over her entire body, head almost fully canine with a pronounced muzzle bearing glistening fangs. She's crouched, poised for fight or flight, her ears pinned back. "Who are you, and why shouldn't I gut you right here?"
Caio raises his hands, showing he doesn't want to fight, though letting her see his eyes. He had never much chance to talk to other werewolves, so he wasn't sure how much they would have in common, specially considering her wolf form resembled a grey wolf, while his was that of a maned wolf. Would her scent be as powerful as his? Would she be as strong and fast, or even stronger and faster?
"I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours... but I'd rather do so with your human form. I don't know you and you don't know me... you could gut me, or I could gut you instead." He tries to convince her against fighting, tired. "We are so few... why fight for nothing? I could just leave as well if you prefer, thought I'd prefer to talk."
A growl issues from the back of her throat when Caio mentions her human form. "Is that some sort of joke?" she spits.
She remains tense, sniffing the air as he asks to talk. "... Janice. That's who I used to be. Now, what do you mean, 'we're so few'?"
Caio looks confused at her. Is it possible that she can't change back to her human form? The old ranger could, so he assumed it was the norm. "And my name is Caio... I meant, 'we', werewolves. You are the second I've met in the US." He then asks. "You can't shift back?"
She shakes her head as her stance becomes more relaxed. "I'm called a werewolf all the time, but if you mean the silver bullet, change at the full moon kind? No. Didn't even know they're real. Should have figured, though. This was done to me," she gestures at herself.
"So, you can turn back and forth then?" She seems very interested in Caio's reply.
"Just look then..." He says as he removes his jacket and shirt before shifting to his big wolf form and then back to his regular human form. Because of the moon so close to full, his wards shine extra bright. "The tattoos are not usually part of the deal, but the rest about silver and moon are very real."
"So... do you have a name for what happened to you?"
Her wolflike face shows total fascination with the change. She stands straighter, though her misshapen legs prevent her from standing fully erect like a human.
She grows quiet for a moment, then shrugs one shaggy shoulder. "Mutation. Experimentation. The promise of power, and being betrayed." Another growl begins deep in her throat, but it's not menacing, just the expression of old pain.
She remind him of Max. Changed into a monstrous form and now forced to live like this, in her case, probably away from society. "Science then... it is very outside of my knowledge. If it was magic, perhaps I could help with that... if you want it of course. Not trying to assume anything."
"You live here, on your own? Alone?"
"No," she shakes her head. "There are others like me." She looks over toward the decrepit house.
"We're always looking for a cure. Science hasn't worked. So, I wonder if magic could?"
She looks back at him. "Not trying to assume anything, but, would you like to meet my friends?"
"Perhaps it could help." He answers in a friendly way, even if he isn't hopeful. To his knowledge, science and magic usually do not work well with each other.
"I think so, yeah, why not?"
"Come on," she says and takes him into the darkened house. The closer Caio gets, the more he smells animal laced with human -- but not all wolf. He gets bird clearly, and something pig-like. Then another animal that he finds harder to place, but definitely mammalian.
"I notice you're not having any trouble in the dark. That's good, since we have a strict 'lights out' policy around here," Janice says.
"We also have a strict policy against guests, Terrier," comes a soft but masculine voice from below ground.
Caio immediately sees the sources of the scents. The dilapidated house has serious structure issues, but they roof has been shorn up by several large wooden beams. The upper floor/attic is otherwise exposed, allowing Caio to see its occupant -- a woman-bird hybrid looking for all the world like a harpy. A massive shape, far larger than Caio in his biggest wolf form, is in the far corner. The dim light reveals the outline of a boar-like head with large tusks and flared nostrils. The voice came from an open cellar door, though the darkness is absolute. A shape flies out and lands next to Janice, leathery-winged and with pronounced ears and an upturned nose.
"Chiros, he-- he's a werewolf. A real one. He can change back and forth! I saw!"
Caio tries to be as polite as possible, not showing fear, since he felt they were just people. "Nice to meet you. My name is Caio, and she speaks the truth. I wish you no harm, though." Caio offers his hand, if anyone would take it.
The one in the corner snorts, and Chiros simply studies Caio. "Interesting. And when you say, 'werewolf', you mean the classic monster of legend? Not simply a metahuman with the power to take on certain canine features?"
"That's what he said. There's runes all over his skin!"
Chiros sighs. "Metahuman powers display in all manner of ways. Many of them psychological. A person growing up hearing tales of werewolves gets the idea he can only transform during the full moon, and voila, you have a 'werewolf' metahuman."
"I was kidnapped when I was five and brought into a clearing in the forest during the full moon... then another werewolf raked my flesh and bit my neck before returning me half-alive to my family, so I'd shift in the next full moon, murder them and join her pack." Caio says all at once, getting increasingly annoyed. "So, yeah, the real werewolf, that turns into a murderous beast during the full moon, that thinks of nothing but the joy of the hunt, the sweet scent of fear from their prey, and the taste of blood!" Without realising, his teeth were turning into fangs and his nails into claws.
He recovers himself in time, the ward on top of this chest already becoming hot. "I'm sorry... having a terrible couple days." With one of his claws, he cuts his flesh, which quickly regenerates, leaving no mark behind, and then he points at the marks on his neck and shoulder, where he was hit by Chumpchange and Connie's collar. "These were from silver. Is that proof enough? Can we change the subject from me to you?"
Chiros's eyes are black orbs, but Caio could tell his mind was working behind them. The boar-like being in the corner stirs, stepping closer and causing the floorboards to groan. The harpy also leans forward from her perch.
"Very well," Chiros begins. "I am Chiros. You've met Terrier. That's Warthog and the lady upstairs is Harpy. Our missing member is Vespid. We've been called the Mongrels. It's an ugly name, but we've been made ugly. We were experimented on. Promised power, and used as test subjects."
He reaches out and accepts Caio's hand for a shake with his misshapen hands, with three of his fingers grotesquely extended with a leathery membrane stretched between them. "I've sought a cure for our condition for many years. How long has it been?" he asks.
"Six years, three months," Terrier answers.
Chiros leans forward and studies the ward and Caio's injuries. "This is something I've never considered. Science made us, yes. But... if magic can warp the flesh, then I wonder...? Caio, may I take some samples? Who knows, maybe magic is the cure for our condition, and science could be the cure for yours?"
Caio looks from one person to the other as names were shared, but when Chiros asks for a sample, he doesn't get the reason behind it. "Sample of what? I'd be very surprised if science could cure curses."
"True. I'm very used to disappointment. But what other options are there but to explore something new? As for samples, I'd like a blood, and tissue sample if possible. If you're capable of changing at will, I'd like one while as human as you can make yourself, and then one as wolf-like as you can muster safely."
"This will not work. Lycanthropy is most of the time referred as a curse, but it is in fact a disease, transmitted my a werewolf's bite. The great majority of people are nowadays immune to it... those that aren't and contract it will most of the time turn into murderous monsters..." He tries to make them understand. He knows they are desperate and looking for any answer, but he had to convince them that his curse was not the one. "The only reason I am not a murderous monster yet, is because of my wards. The world certainly does not need more werewolves."
"I do not know what and how you intend to do with this samples, but if there is the slightest chance of you making lycanthropy able to affect immune people, I'm not going to risk it. You said that science failed you, and that perhaps magic could help... I can try to help you with magic, but my disease will stay out of it."
"Please," Janice says. "Can you even imagine not being able to turn back? You might call what you have a curse, but look at us!"
"Yes, I can. Very much. My... friend got turned into a demon and yet, I'd have changed fates with her at the blink of an eye, because she still gets to think for herself. Many times, I can't, many times I can only think about ripping other people's throats."
"Despite what have been done to you, you are not monsters, and I will not take part in anything that has the chance of turning you into a real monster. Like me." He says, adamant. "No pleading... or violence..." he adds, looking at the huge Warthog. "Will make me change my mind about this."
"My wards keep me from changing, and perhaps I can make similar ones for you, to change you back." He offers instead. "But I'll need the help of someone that do understands your transformations very well."
Warthog takes another step forward, but Chiros holds up a winged hand. "I see. The child is right. We are not monsters. We will respect his decision. And appreciate his offer to help. I would greatly like to learn about your wards. Believe me, I understand our transformations. I have taken it upon myself to study genetics and mutations and metahuman physics, all in the hopes of finding a cure. You won't find anyone who understands it better."
Seeing hope in really helping these people, Caio smiles. He always felt great while doing so, as if helping them made him stronger. "Great! Then we have a lot to discuss..."
"Usually, magic is more on the side of chaos than logic, but wards aren't like that. They are about precision." He explains as he shows his tattoos. All of them are indeed precise, all lines straight, all circles perfect, no smudge in the ink. "Think about them as computer programs... you need to code what you want the program to do, and they will do it. In theory it is simple."
"In practice, not that much in your case... we'll have to figure out how to translate your transformation back to what you were into instructions for the wards to work. And that is tricky as hell." He confesses. "In my case, it was easier because my curse already allows for the change of shape, so my wards work either on the triggers, by not allowing me to shift, or by blocking some specific aspects of the shift, like the bloodlust."
"What I'm about to suggest could be impossible, based solely on movies I've seen... but since your change was through science, I believe it altered your genes, no? If so, would it be possible for you to know which genes changed, by comparing yours to that of a normal human and of an animal associated with your shape?"
The chiropteran looks closely at Caio's tattoos in the dim light as he explains the basics of wards. "I have our genomes mapped out. It was one of the first things I did, to identify which ones changed. The Teratogen was quite... thorough in its modification of our genetic code. My equipment is downstairs, but unless you have sonar there is no light until morning." He glances out the window at the night sky. "We're only a few hours until sunrise. Would you be willing to rest here until dawn?"
Caio shrugs not having anything better to do anyway. "I'll stay then until dawn. In the meantime, I'd like to know the whole story... you said you were looking for power and you must know that most of the time, those willing to risk themselves for power don't do so to help people... I'll help you nevertheless, but I'd like to know."
Warthog moves back in his corner and Janice finds a spot to lay down. Chiros gestures to the remains of a couch.
"Years ago, a promising young researcher published some articles in a trade publication about the malleability of the human genetic code. He was nicknamed the '"Gene"ius' for those treatises. His research inspired many others to begin experiments in the granting of super powers. There was something of a race to see who could create the most reliable method of inducing those powers."
He waves his hand. "The research is all tightly controlled now. But for a while, it was a free-for-all. A power broker called Unlimited, Ltd. developed a mutagenic compound called Teratogen. Their researchers were... less than ethical. We were among the more 'successful' results."
"And the less successful? Are they all gone? And this Unlimited Ltd?" He pokes for more. The more Chiros shares, the more he believes these people were either bad people or completely desperate ones, otherwise why risk so much for power?
"All gone. The company got dissolved after all the lawsuits, and some hero involvement. We were cast aside."
"And what would you do if we can make this work?" He asks, but then realises this is probably too personal, or too hurtful. "If my wards do work, it is then easy to find a way for you to turn them off... you'd be able to shift from one form to another. What would you do with this?"
Chiros gestures to their surroundings -- the dilapidated structure they're forced to hide out in. "Can you not imagine? To rejoin society!"
"I want to go to a salon. I want my nails done. I want to shop for clothes. Real clothes. It might seem petty... but..." Janice chokes back a sob, which turns into a canine-sounding whine.
"It's not petty," Chiros reassures her. "Can't you see? Ask your demon friend. She'll tell you. Being the same, blending in, can be a blessing."
To be honest, Caio wasn't sure Max was still trying to get her former body back... Getting rid of the demon's influence, sure, but she seemed pretty happy with the rest. He'd not tell this to them though.
"Many times, we only value something when we lose it." He shares his fortune cookie wisdom as the first rays of dawn begin to reach the building. He gets up, to stretch himself.
The Mongrels go quiet and reflective as the last hours of the night go by. When the light finally becomes bright enough that Chiros risks turning on the light to the downstairs, he gets up from where he's been resting.
The cellar is dank and musty, but a small generator and lab is set up. Old stone and mortar walls give the place a feeling of an old dungeon.
"Sorry for the accommodations, but it's not like we have government funding like the DRF," Chiros says as he starts booting up some laptop computers networked together.
"I'd like to scan those sigils into the computer, if you'll allow. Run them through some programs, see if there's any way they can be precisely duplicated for us. That's what you said, right? Precision?"
"Precision, yes, duplication no." He explains as he looks around the place, curious. "Each ward or sigil works in a specific way, drains its power from a source, is triggered by some event and so on. My wards work specifically for me... even if I think many of them would also work on another werewolf, but certainly not for you."
"A specific ward will be need for each of you, one will be different than the other, since you have different anatomies."
"I'm fully aware that the image of a bloodthirsty werewolf doesn't match well with someone with a brain, but I need you to trust me that I know what I'm doing..." He points to the computer. "Go ahead and Google my name 'Caio C. Costa' and you'll discover that I'm quite smart as well." ((If he does so, he'll discover Caio received 4 medals in the International Mathematical Olympiad, which is quite a feat))
"I don't need, or want, your help in designing or creating the wards and sigils. I'll do it on my own. It is my craft and I don't think the world is ready yet for me to share how they work." There is pride in his voice. "All I need from you are the instructions on how to turn you back, like what genes to change and in which order..."
"If these instructions are too big, we'll have to try to turn them into mathematical functions so I can then turn them into geometric shapes..."
Chiros grunts in a "not amused" way when Caio mentions having a brain not matching a body of a bloodthirsty werewolf. "Yes... I'm cognizant of the irony, as someone who has deciphered our genome," he says, then points to the screens showing the hundreds upon thousands of gene sequences.
"Do you see, now, why I requested a sample of your DNA? Not to make more werewolves, but to see if there is a change in your genetic structure when under the effects of your curse. Are you not the least bit curious? You're a mathematician! A man of science, right?"
"Curious, yes, but that doesn't mean I'll do it. One thing magic and science have a lot in common is people trying to understand things and then terribly regretting the knowledge thereafter." He answers, showing an amount of restraint and discipline uncommon for his age, perhaps a consequence of having a rather unrestrained and chaotic other-self in his mind.
"Also, I don't think I'd consider myself neither a man of science nor a mathematician... I'm more like an artisan, an engineer or clockmaker." He jokes, as he looks at the huge sequence of DNA, trying to think of a way to condense this information as much as possible. "Let's get to work then... we'll have to condense this information as much as we can, since I can't draw a ward on your backs with a mile of diameter."
Caio and Chiros get to work. The young engineer of sigils and wards requires a crash course in the human genome, and then trying to understand the changes wrought in the sequences by the experiments done years ago. Chiros, for his part, exhibits a surprising aptitude himself for some of the concepts behind the sigils.
Several hours pass. The other Mongrels upstairs pace, and occasionally check in by peering down into the basement. As the work progresses, a stirring of doubt begins in the back of Caio's mind. The genetic strands are molecular -- a concept that magic doesn't do well with. As much as he joked about the wards needing to be miles in diameter... he may not be far off. Reducing them down, factoring all the changes that need to be reversed, the precision required, and then considering that there are four of them -- plus a fifth still in captivity -- the research alone could take decades and the implementation twice as long.
And there's there's the realization that the more Chiros learns, the more he is starting to sense it, too.
It's afternoon, a couple hours after a lunch of protein bars and rainwater, that Caio gets his message from Percy.
Caio is caught by surprise by Percy's message, but soon replies, counting the words on his fingers. "Why have you not sent me a text on my phone? Oh, I guess I've lost my phone. Sorry. I'm fine. Will be back soon." To Chiros, the whole thing would certainly be quite odd.
"This will not work out... Let me think for a while. I have to check on my friends." He then writes his name and number on a piece of paper. "I'll be back, I promise you. If you need help with anything, let me know and I'll do my best to help... if you make any breakthrough, let me know as well."
The Mongrels are conflicted, exchanging looks as Caio announces he's leaving. Warthog moves to block the way out, but Chiros holds up a hand. "This is a new chance for us," he hisses. "We won't get his help if we force him."
Warthog grumbles and steps aside. "Please understand. We're used to nothing but betrayal, and hatred. Can we trust you?" the batlike man says.
"You can." He answers, trying to convince them. "I want to help you, because you deserve it."
They let Caio leave the house. But before he reaches the fence, he hears Janice pad up behind him. A rumbling growl is deep on her throat. "I want to talk to the wolf," she says.
"I can't control the wolf and I do not trust it... If I let it surface, it would wander off and kill people, kill you and your friends, draw attention from everyone to you and yours... Why would you want that?" He asks, not understanding her request.
She bares her teeth. "I'm at least ten years older than you. Your wolf should know better. Let. Me. Talk. To. Him."
"You have been in your form for six years and three months, your words. I've have mine for twelve... so my wolf is twice as old as yours, but if you insist..." Caio breathes slowly as he allows his shape to shift, becoming the huge red wolf and towering over Janice. He then drops on all fours as he looks at her... before bolting away from the cemetery as fast as he can!
She swipes at him in an effort to keep him there. Caio definitely felt that a connection was made briefly-- the moment he shifted the wolf stirred and caught her scent? Her thoughts? However wolves communicate.
But he's gone over the fence before the connection can grow any stronger. He feels a burning in his leg that quickly fades. Looking down, he sees where her claws had caught his leg when he wrenched out of her grip and got away.
She didn't pursue.
"My comms had some flaw in it then... I did not fling it that hard against the wall."
Caio shrugs at Horizon's offer. "Why not? I want to know about a group of individuals called the Mongrels. Who they are, who they were, and what have they done... the good and the bad." He doesn't explain why he wants to know this. "Then I'll also need to know about a company called Unlimited Ltd, if they are still operating, who was in charge about seven years ago and who was the head of the research team at the same time." He pauses as Shin makes his usual notes. "And, finally, I want to know about something called the Teratogen."
"Oh, most of that I don't need to look up. The Mongrels are a team of genetic hybrids who I've fought against in the past with the old team. They were working with Shard, one of the worst in Halcyon," Shin said, looking at Caio curiously. "Teratogen is what altered their genes in the first place to splice them with different animal DNAs. Only place you'd probably find it is the Dawkins Research Facility. Stuff's too dangerous to allow anyone to replicate it, not that the Mongrels haven't tried to do so. A cure to their condition, or turning the city into the Island of Dr. Moreau, that's their effective goal. Though..."
It's been a while since he's been there. Since he's seen Scorch. Life just caught up with him, he realizes.
"...Unlimited Ltd, though, I could probably search the web on that, but since Clocktower was last in use probably in the mid-90s I don't think there's anything additional to dig up from it's archival storage."
"...But I think Whip mentioned that company before. It was a while back. There was definitely some kind of scandal that wrecked their reputation and forced the company to downsize..."
"Looks like a string of them between '74 and '79," Horizon confirms. "Though there's not much info on the exact nature or origins, a few have come from idols or figurines, like yours," He tells Max while typing very noisily on the typewriter keyboard. "If you can give me any further details on the figurine in question, like any markings or designs, I can try to narrow the search further..."
He pauses briefly, thinking about something in particular. "Records from before the 80s on Clocktower's system are sparse, more bibliographical than in depth. I think we might need to access to a physical archive. Though I'm not the one you should ask when looking for a library on magical and demonic subjects," He points out. "Still, I'll download these records and try cross-referencing them with the Herald to see if there's anything I can find in previous newspaper issues."
The premier power broker during the late 90s and early 2000s, Unlimited, Ltd. cracked the means to grant super powers with a minimum of risk and invasive procedures. They invented the Teratogen using the research of Howard "The 'Gene'ius" Dawkins. But the compound mutated, or was sabotaged through corporate espionage. The resultant experiments were monstrous. Infamously, the Teratogen has no known cure -- even Dawkins could not find a way to reverse its effects. You get exposed, whatever it does to you is permanent.
The resultant scandals and monster rampages caused the government to get involved in an unprecedented way. Unlimited, Ltd. and other power brokers were liquidated, Dawkins' research was buried except for limited and tightly controlled research labs like the Dawkins Research Facility, and most of the monsters were sealed away. Only a small few beings, like the Mongrels, still are at large.
Max describes the idol for Horizon--a clay figurine of a voluptuous woman, possibly Mesopotamian in origin. She also describes the crate it originated from.
|
Percy arrives to Unity station chatting beside Max as they head to the platform with a 'conductor's station' that's been designated as the group meeting spot. When suddenly two of the base defenses Blair to life and launch a pair of defense measures. A string of Bola launched from a floor plate turret and wrapped around his feet, causing the boy to yelp in confusion and stumble managing to hold himself mostly level with his staff, up until a ceiling plate fired a weighted net at him causing the staff to slip and dragging him to the ground in a reinforced cocoon. His head bashed against the ground and he cried out in pain wriggling to get free of the restraint.
From the floor he let out a sharp hiss as one would when scraping their knee, "Son of a b$**!!" He rotated on the floor so he could look back up at Max arms tucked into his chest where his staff was pinned and had smacked him in the lip busting it during the fall. "A hand please."
Percy held a bag of frozen peas to his lower jaw as everything happened, his demeanor fervently soured for the evening. "I stand by Max, we need to deal with this before anything else drastic happens." He pulled the bag away and looked at the blood from his fat lip, seething at the throbbing pain.
"We don't exactly have many leads, and we don't plan on jumping in this completely blind. That's why I suggested we bring it up to the entire team so we can form a gameplan. We could pull the demons from hell.... but I don't know their names. Also that brings more issues here to Halcyon rather than going there and not opening the way for them to slip through in the first place. Also didn't you say something about Praetoria coming with?" Reluctantly he replaced the bag to his face and massaged the area slightly.
Speaking around the bag he lead up with the next part, "While we can worry about the demons being supercharged by hell, we can also assume Max'll get a similar boost. And who knows maybe she's the eldest more powerful sister and could possibly tango with the other two herself. If it comes to blows that is." He stopped and let his head sag in a hope to let the ills of his face ebb away.
“I should set my alarm next time you are out.”
* * *
“I’m glad you invited me to talk. It’s not a fun topic… but I thought maybe I could hear you out, and… I may be brutally honest with you, but I do not think myself very good at being a brute.
“Or…” Femtite lets out a soft nervous giggle. “…if you changed you mind, you can tell me now. Haha?”
* * *
Femtite approaches DD. “What connects you to your sisters? You don’t have the voluptuous figurine with you, I assume?
“I may not know magic, but I can see subatomic unstructures. A fey’s silver thread that connects you to a promise is perceptible even when I’m on the femtometric scale.
“I was able to perceive the thread, and so I knew there was a way to interact wi—” She stops talking. Her tone is bitter, or at least her unspoken thought is.
Focus on the situation at hand.
“My point is, DD, that you cannot simply go into heh… y’know where. There must be a connection—maybe your body is it. But if there is any possession you have that is of thaaaat place, you need to tell me.”
”You’re right. It’s not a fun topic. Not even sure where to start. I guess... How about you ask me some questions, and I’ll answer them as best I can.”
”Oh, shit! You okay?” Max asks, helping Percy up. She slashes through the netting with her claws. ”What kind of dummy leaves the traps active before a team meeting?!?
***
Max shakes her head. ”No, the figurine dissolved when it released the demoness’s spirit. I guess it’s that spiritual energy that connects me to them, or the physical changes that made my body like this.”
The transformed girl thinks for a moment, then snaps her fingers. ”Oh! There’s the dress! This red dress... It’s in my closet in my dorm room. It appeared when the Mailer Daemon first found me, and I couldn’t get rid of it. Maybe...”
She closes her eyes, trying to will the dress to appear.
Max finds it surprisingly effortless. She simply imagines the dress, and it's there -- on her. Along with accessories.
The dress is blood-red, short, tight enough around her curves to appear that it might have been sewn upon her. Bangly hoop earrings tug at her lobes and bracelets adorn her wrists. An ornate necklace with headache-inducing sigils rest against exposed cleavage, and her feet are forced to teeter in wickedly-pointed stiletto heels.
"...Yeah. Unlimited made Teratogen with Dawkins' help, and then abused it so badly the government had to step in, liquidate them and ensure the formula is stashed somewhere for good. It's not just the Mongrels who would want it either - it's bonafide superpower juice, and the effects are permanent. No known cure," He finishes telling Caio. "So, level with me here - did you encounter the Mongrels? They try to recruit you?"
"Ah, sorry, looks like i'll have to recalibrate that," Horizon apologized. Really was sorry, considering he didn't think Percy would actually get hurt from being wrapped up in a net. He thought he knew the next person he was going to work on conditioning with when he had the chance...
"Okay, Mesopotamian, that helps-" Horizon says before snapping his attention to Percy as he suggests Praetoria might help. "Absolutely not. Praetoria shouldn't come anywhere near hell. She nearly died the last time she was there. This is also why dragging her demon pals out is better for everyone - Max won't suffer potentially becoming drunk with power, and her 'sisters' won't have as much strength here either. Plus, we can contain them more readily," He adds, nodding to Conflux.
He brings up a catalog of Mesopotamian sculptures he found on the Natural History Museum website, scrolling through some of the pieces that had passed through their collection. "Let me know if you see anything familiar here, DD." He elected to avoid looking at her, considering that she was wearing...there was no way that could be considered a dress!
“He didn’t apologize or return my text.” And while Femtite is visibly upset, “And of course Mel the Mechanic doesn’t complain. She won’t complain to Princess Me about duplicating her efforts just like she never complains to Queen Mom for being with harems instead of her.”
She hovers over the floor, fists clenched. “Mel practically worships my mother… and she co-created me, I think, which, if true, Connie says I should call her ‘Mom’ too. Mel says call her ‘Mel.’
“But my point is I could have the love of two parents, and instead I grew up around Mommy’s harems and watched Mel make all kinds of repairs and gaze lovingly at my mo—my mother didn’t hurt her, she hurt US!”
Femtite starts to tear up. “I saw the way it hurt Caio when the crowd came to your table at lunch. I saw you at the ice cream shoppe on your phone, and outside, you lied to me about needing space. Your phone buzzed—and I froze.
“It was ‘not my affair,’ I told myself, and besides… I could never have talked my mother to leave her harem for Mel.
“Should I have tried?”
Realizing the parallel might make sense only to herself, she clarifies, “I mean, to talk you out of answering that call… not talking my mom out of her harem.”
* * *
Femtite shrinks herself, hovering closer and closer to the blood-red fabric. Soon she cannot be seen at all, and the air mere nanometers from the dress is a universe of atoms.
And the dress itself? What can Femtite glean?
"I mean, she's a demon presenting as a classic western succubus with a modern twist - Possibly Mesopotamian doesn't remove much from the differential, and that assumes that it was the offending entity's original home and not just a vessel with a convenient metaphysical shape..."
Connie broke out of her mutter-y reverie to pose a different question. "Can you just endlessly summon copies of that whole outfit? And what size are those shoes?"
"Whether or not I can borrow those shoes, dragging specific entities out of hell from here is a pretty classic three step process. I can handle containment, lures are certainly possible... but yeah, without Names or other specifiers? Heh No way in hell. Doing it from hell is just a fistfight, so... Hopefully it's not plan A. Like, you all know I don't mind throwing someone to another dimension to end a fight, but it's a rough way to start one."
|
|
Percy untied his legs from the bola after Max cut him free, already blood was dribbling from his lip which was swelling. "Shhh-it's whatever Shin just... make sure it knows frie d or foe before turning it on next time."
He stands, "Thanks Max. I'll he good just... gotta get the peas from the freezer from when we forst got here."
Horizon says before snapping his attention to Percy as he suggests Praetoria might help. "Absolutely not. Praetoria shouldn't come anywhere near hell. She nearly died the last time she was there. This is also why dragging her demon pals out is better for everyone - Max won't suffer potentially becoming drunk with power, and her 'sisters' won't have as much strength here either. Plus, we can contain them more readily," He adds, nodding to Conflux.
Percy avoided looking at Max, but could feel the strange radiating from the outfit. "I understand that you think that Shin, but you've been in a team with her before yeah? How well did dissuaded her from doing something she wanted work honest?" He did have to admit he worried about her demon part becoming more powerful or reigniting it's attempt to reassert control.
"If you want we can set this area up as a trap. I can open and attempt to drag them out here. That doesn't solve the fact that we don't know WHAT demons we're dragging out. But I'm not exactly an expert in punching through the aetherical barriers that separate real-space from other planes. Meaning I might exhaust myself if we don't do it somewhere where the barrier is already thin. Such as the Praetorian's statue. Maybe we should include Praetoria in this team meeting though since we have to plan with everyone in mind."
"Femms... What happened is not your fault. There's nothing you could have done at that point that would have changed things. It was my choice. My... my mistake to make.
"Everything was just happening so fast. I'd barely had two days to adjust to the new abilities I manifested, and Caio was coming on super strong. He wanted me to be his girlfriend! I mean, you know I haven't even been a girl for long at all. A girlfriend? It... it scared me, Femms. And so I... I ran away. I ran away and into Praetoria's arms.
"I like Praetoria--Kayla. I like her a lot, and she likes me. But Caio... He loved me. As more than just a best friend. And I didn't know what to do with that. I still don't know..."
***
Max scowls when Percy brings up Praetoria. She wasn't going to mention her until the team had solidified their plan, but the cat was out of the bag, now. "It's Praetoria's choice to come or not. Nobody's forcing her hand, but it's not up to us to forbid her, either," she tells Shin.
***
Max is surprised as the red dress suddenly appears on her! She takes a few mincing steps to avoid falling as the stilettos appear on her feet, and her jewelry jangles. "Um, okay. Didn't know I could do that. Where did my other clothes go?"
She blushes a deeper purple color and simply shakes her head at Conflux's questions. She totters over to Shin's computer and looks at the images on the screen while Femmtite shrinks down and does her thing.
“Sorry… I just dumped all that on you. In retrospect I should have come here first, then visited Mel.
“DD… I also wanted to thank you for your advice the day we were out on the least stealthy stealth-mission ever. It was your same-page talk that gave me the courage to tell Connie how I felt.
“It’s not the way on my world. Procreation and pleasure happens in groups, supposedly to spare hurt feelings. But sometimes two hearts connect, and then there are those like Mel and Caio who find the connection goes one way.
“You can’t help that feelings were not mutual. You can’t erase the past. But no wrong you have done is unforgivable… at least I don’t believe it.”
All true, Femtite reassures herself. But…
“But bear in mind the team will have some feelings. People will take sides, and you’re on the team and Praetoria is not.”
Femtite suddenly size-shifts and divine armor converges onto her shrunken body, making her a pinkish-purplish-armored twinsie to the Praetoria action figure beside her.
Fem matches the figure’s pose as well, then says with both sincerity and a bit of a smirk,
”You are surely the only Praetoria-fan on Team Bassssssomething.”
She reverts to normal and says, “You wrecked my date, Caio wrecked my Bug, and he and you are still my friends and teammates. Please don’t avoid the awkward conversation with him… or the pain will fester.
“And if I may butt in just a little, commit to not being with him physically. He is a romantic, and his emotions are very powerful. I believe his emotions are the humanity in him that wins over the beast.
“…just a hypothesis,” she says a little shyly.
As Femtite gets subatomic, she senses that the dress has an otherness to it. There are bonds connecting its substance far beyond the valent and covalent.
Understanding is elusive. Just as firing neurons are entirely inadequate to explain human thought, the matrixes linking the subatomic structures are far greater than the sum of their parts.
As her consciousness diffuses into the aether further, Femtite gets the impression of sound. It's distant, slowed to a crawl, but omnipresent. A thud. Then another. Then another, in a rhythmic pattern. She sees lights, blue, then red, then purple, over and over, in time with the heavy thump. Again. Again. It flashes and thumps and screams and gyrates in her mind.
Suddenly, she snaps out of her reverie with a strange question.
Why are the Gates of Hell 21-and-up and require a cover charge?
Femtite grows back. She is weirded out. ”Ummm……… sooooooo……………
“I think we cannot enter the Gates of You-Know-Where because we are not old enough. An exception might be made for DD.
“There is no fire. Many lights, blue, red, purple… maybe magenta. I wouldn’t know. And there was a throbbing sound:
“Dup — dup — dup — dup —
Doodle-up, doo – doodle-up, doo –
The sys-tem – is down —
The sys-tem – is…”
Femtite catches herself making awkward robot movements.
“…down.” She sighs, “There’s also a cover charge. I don’t know how much.”
Realization dawns in Max's eyes. "Coño! It's a nightclub! All this time we were planning to go to the actual Hell, but it's just a nightclub!"
She pulls out her phone to try to find where it is located.
Max is able to pull it up quickly. It's rated as a five-star, popular establishment. It's located next door to the new statue of the Praetorian and Ultra-Star.
Max shows the others the website. "Looks like it's where we were planning on going, anyway. Hopefully, the name is just evocative and it's not a literal portal, but given it's location..."
"I've met them by accident, and I know where they are." He tells Horizon, not wanting to hide this from him, since he was involved with them in the past. "They did not strike me as bad people, just desperate ones. I understand their desire to rejoin society, find a cure, or even turn everyone into beasts like them... this is horrible of course. The ends do not justify the means... I've told you this before and I stand by it."
"They asked me to help them into using magic to find a cure for them, and I agreed, since even if I felt they were hiding something from me, I reasoned that good guys or bad guys, it would be better if they were humans again."
"If I could make wards for them, similar to mines, to lock their transformations away, do you believe the city could give them a last chance? Notice I said last, not another... If I do this, I'll make sure to make the wards stop working if they do not behave."
Caio listens to the back and forth as the others plan, either going to Hell, or bringing Max's "sisters" here, thinking they were missing something... however, as Fems informs they were just supposed to go to a night club, Caio bursts into laughing, mostly of relief. "Talk about an overreaction! Puts..."
"...Honestly? It's a long, painstaking process to rehabilitation," Horizon admits to Caio. "For everyone who honestly wants to redeem themselves, there's another who relapses back into the same criminal activity. There's a lot of old hurt involved with the people they've caused pain, and even if they jump through all of the legal hoops involved they still may be seen as untrustworthy. It'll take years even after their powers are gone for them to be let completely off the leash."
He crosses his arms, looking a bit torn. "Would your wards completely seal away their animal powers and make them human? Would there be side effects to suppressing their transformations?" He questions. "I understand you wanting to help them. I want to help too, but as far as I've seen, magic can't fix everything. Otherwise you wouldn't need supervision to avoid you going out of control," He points out. "Ask yourself, are you doing this because you think they deserve a last chance, or because you feel that you need to earn one?"
"Oh you have to be kidding me. Okay, it's a nightclub here in the city. One that has sprung up near the Praetorian/Ultra-Star memorial. That has two demon sisters apparently attending. Anyone else think that stinks to high heaven?" Horizon asks the group. "We can investigate the club further, but in no way should any of us actually go there to look until we've learned more. Stake it out, check their tax records, talk to people who've been there already...
Which, probably, would be Praetoria," He admits with gritted teeth.
”So…sneaking into a nightclub? And all of you are underage? Yeah. Good luck with that. Especially the guys. The girls MIGHT have a better shot. Because, well, obvious reasons,” Steel Guardian says. ”And I don’t think I’ll be blending in at all. So looks like I’m out aside from being nearby for backup.”
"I don't think it will be too hard to get in. I can use my pheromones to whammy the bouncers, or one of the magicians can try to Jedi mind trick them," Max says. "And maybe Percy can use an illusion spell to change your appearance so you can come with us, SG."
Realizing that she doesn't need the dress anymore, Max tries to will it away again, hoping her normal clothes will return!
Max tries to send the dress away. It resists, however, and stays clung to her body. She pushes harder with her mind, imagining her normal clothes returning. She feels the material slither around her skin, holding tight, caressing her curves.
When she looks down, the clothing has morphed into a long cocktail dress, shimmering red and scandalous. Her accessories shifted slightly to better match the new style.
"I just vote that anyone who can't figure out a way into a nightclub that isn't too: dangerous, subtle, or morally compromising for them, stay away from bargaining with demons..."
Max shivers at the disturbing sensation of slithering fabric over her body. She looks down at the dress's new configuration. "Not quite was I trying to do."
"...wait." Horizon looks thoughtful for a moment before checking something. "Halloween is coming up soon. The Gates of Hell probably will have some theme party planned for it. That might be our best chance to get everyone in without being noticed."
He checks on the website of the club to see what upcoming events they have planned, punching keys on the typewriter board intensely. "We can also wear costumes of different heroes so not to stand out while Max does her thing. Be on call and look out for her."
"I know the whole process is hard. It should be, since their actions have consequences. I was only asking if it was possible. If I can help them, this will be my condition, and I think they will take it."
"My wards offer a possibility, even if I had not figured out how to do it. Think of them as math... we have the functions and equations to solve any problem, even if we currently can't see the answer to a particular problem." He explains, tired. "Like science, magic can't fix every problem yet. They are two sides of the same coin."
"I could only think of one single way to cure them, but honestly I'm not sure it will work... other than that, I could create a ward for them to be able to blend back into society, but now that I have confirmation that they were villains, I'm unsure if this would be something I should do. Perhaps with the proper number of restrictions, we could keep them in line."
"My own curse is different... it is not a mutation and it doesn't have a cure. Unlike the Teratogen, people have been trying to cure lycanthropy since years were not counted in numbers... my wards are not strong enough to completely shut down the wolf and if they were, my body would not be able to withstand the amount of energy required to do so..."
"I'm doing this because I can, because my wards are different and because I think they can do some good with time. I was not harmed by the mongrels, so I can't decide if they deserve a last chance or not, and I certainly do not do it for my own conscience... when/if I eventually go rampage and kill people, I know I will not deserve a last chance."
"If I keep my beard for one to two weeks, I can easily pass as old enough to enter, given I can get a fake ID." Caio points out, and it is probably true. His shape and tattoos do give him an "older-vibe". "On the other hand, if we go on Halloween, I can also rock the best werewolf fantasy people have ever seen."
“Oh my! I need to conceptualize two costumes then!” She turns to Connie, grinning dreamily. “One for our night at the Hallow’s Eve ball, and one for Holloween. I presume that is the next day?”
"Same night actually, Femms, which actually is a real problem with the plan. The two of us have a diplomatic commitment with the local fey court on that specific evening. And while everything's negotiable, that's one where we really don't have the leverage."
"To be honest, I'm not sure I should go... for a moment Max was able to control the Wolf with her pheromones and she was still new to that. Imagine what her sisters could do together..." Caio recalls, worried.
"Unless Connie can work on something similar to that ring for me?"
"Don't worry, C-dawg. I've been sussing out some solutions to succy situations. They're not always up, 'cause I don't want to give Max an unsightly rash or anything, but we've got plays if things get hairy."
Also, let's be real. She was new to the powers, but it's easier to start a fire when someone's already carrying a torch.
"...Okay. Let me touch base with Whippoorwill on this and see what we would need to process them," Horizon said. "Just...don't get your hopes up, okay? Not everyone can be saved."
He does look at Caio intensely for a moment, before saying, "I understand how you feel. The horror of becoming a monster. But it is always your choice, despite feeling like you're doomed from the start. So don't keep saying 'when you'll rampage', because nothing is set in stone on that."
It's around this time that the security systems suddenly go off, and Horizon looks out to see poor Percy getting tangled and held up in a net! "...Whoops."
"Ah. Well, that complicates things," Horizon says as he understands the conflicts. "Probably can do the Gates of Hell party later at night - that's when you'll have more bodies to get lost in anyways. And..."
He looks physically pained as he turns to Max. "...we will...probably...need Praetoria's help to get us in the door. I'm sure she can help circumvent the regular security. Since Conflux and Femtite are out because of prior commitments (making deals with youkai or faeries or whatever they are) then it'll be the boys and Max...uh, and SG if they want to help," He finishes.
"Same night actually, Femms, which actually is a real problem with the plan. The two of us have a diplomatic commitment with the local fey court on that specific evening. And while everything's negotiable, that's one where we really don't have the leverage."
”Oh, but Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve—” She accepts she is confused and moves on. “Well, yes, we cannot deny Tyg. Severing the Dukkemager’s thread was different. I accepted the gift from Conway, not him.
“I already bargained for you to be my date and Tyg had to make another accommodation for you, which I hope will last the night when we are home!”
She does not say what the accommodation is, but does say to Horizon, “Tyg is a fairy. She gave us the information that led to our rescue of Whippoorwill and Imagerie. We must honor sealed deal with Tyg. I have seen the silver thread that connects our promise, and while there is almost nothing that can affect or perceive me at subatomic size… fey magic is on the shortlist of exceptions.”
Max frowns. ”There’s too much going on during Halloween already. We should go to the Gates of Hell either before or afterwards.”
“If we could get killed or damned, I vote—“ After.
I am NOT missing that fey ball with a tiny Connie! After that, no regr… wait.
But Tyg would probably compel us out of the underworld with her silver thread. Soooo…
“—beeeeforrrre?”
When Max’s dress shifts, SG asks ”Having fun?”
As the plan…progresses? SG adds ”I am not entirely sold on the Costume Party plan. If it’s a nightclub, you realize most of the costumes will be favoring minimal fabric, right? Like, I doubt my armor will make it through the door,” they then pause and add ”And do any of you even have ‘sexy’ versions of your suits?” with air quotes around “sexy.”
"Sure I do - you're looking at it," Horizon quips to Steel Guardian as he lifts up his visor and looks over at them. "But, yeah, I agree with the consensus - better to not do it on Halloween. Too much going on then anyways. Then let's settle for Friday - we can do some scouting of the place on night, prep some anti-demon gear or spells, and be ready for whatever comes of that meeting."
He looks over at the rest of the team. "Any other business for this meeting to discuss? I don't want to keep everyone here if they need to cram out Monday's homework assignments."
When Max’s dress shifts, SG asks ”Having fun?”
As the plan…progresses? SG adds ”I am not entirely sold on the Costume Party plan. If it’s a nightclub, you realize most of the costumes will be favoring minimal fabric, right? Like, I doubt my armor will make it through the door,” they then pause and add ”And do any of you even have ‘sexy’ versions of your suits?” with air quotes around “sexy.”
Fem places her hands on her hips. “I don’t have a version that’s not sexy.” She points to her thighs. “These are gams that don’t quit!
”…their job.”
"They go all the way up too... Or so I've heard."
***
"Hey Max, wait up a sec. I promise this isn't about Caio, but I kiiinda need to touch base with you about Praetoria... As someone else who didn't get the 'getting into cars with strangers/celebrities' chat from her mom around puberty, I want to talk through some 'yes-you're-a-superhero-but-even-so' safety stuff..."
When Max’s dress shifts, SG asks ”Having fun?”
”No!” Max insists.
Kind of... Maybe? No!
***
Max had been trying to leave swiftly, but the high heels make that rather impossible. She turns to Connie and crosses her arms over her chest. ”Okay, go ahead. Say what you need to say. But make it quick, please. I would really like to change out of this dress.”
Fem sees Connie on the way to a private meeting.
She acts casual… waits for Connie and DD to get out of sight… and then she tries to get Horizon’s attention.
“Oh! Horizon! I need a favor! You gotta help me! Gotta’s a strong word. You don’t gotta, but pleeeeeeeeeeeease?”
"Yeah, I have thoughts for how to tinker with that, but magical clothes experiments are best performed in private behind a changing screen. Trust me."
Connie shuddered.
"Anyways. Uhh... It's easy to feel like because someone's face, and voice, and all that is familiar to you that you know them. But you don't. And, kind of maybe especially since you sometimes ramp up the inherent sexiness of an encounter, you should be careful about going off alone with strangers to hook up with them? Especially strangers who publicly have a monogamous boyfriend? Which is the kind of relationship that almost inherently puts you in danger? Even if it isn't physical danger? And it could be? 'Cause like, casual makeouts? Awesome. Go nuts. Maybe make sure that you're not using those casual makeouts as a way to make it very clear to someone that they're not your boyfriend, but mostly go nuts. Casual further than makeouts? Even better so I've heard. But... you get that there's like a preposterous amount of baggage involved in being involved with Praetoria, right? Let alone if either of the PR teams of the relationship get involved with your involvement..."
"Do you get what I'm saying?"
Max nods. ”Yes, I get it. It’s complicated. And I appreciate your concern. I’m going to be careful. If this thing—whatever it is—goes further, I’ll be sure to think carefully about all the repercussions before doing anything rash.”
Her tail wiggles behind her and she quirks an eyebrow. ”Anything else?”
Shin had been stepping towards Steel Guardian to chat with them before Femtite got up to him. He looks at her in surprise but crosses his arms. "Okay, what's on your mind?" He asks the Outsider. "Not sure what I can do that Conflux can't, so color me intrigued."
Connie cocked her head and stared at Max's butt.
"Is that an 'I'm lying' wiggle? Of your tail I mean, I wasn't looking at your butt very much. Cause uh, you recognize that what you did is like... Nearly the polar opposite of careful, right? And that there's like, almost definitionally no safe way for a trans gal with literal demon horns to publicly date Praetoria, which means there's absolutely no safe way for you to be in an affair with her? Even if Tiv knows and is cool with it?? I feel like that's not clear."