Fencer's Plot Bunnies

[Fencer]

AN: I was working on Archer…. How did I end up finishing this thing instead?

Anyone ever heard of the game overlord? I hadn't until I stumbled across a few crossovers, good lord the crack it produces. At least when the writers don't go for murder spree, torture, and rape. Why people? Just why? Crack is good!

Anyway, the concept goes like this: random person (read protagonist) is uhhh recruited? Kidnapped? Given a sales pitch they can't turn down for fear of unsupervised super goblins running around undirected? Become the evil overlord, manage the horde of minions, do stereotypical fantasy evil stuff, get a harem, profit. Etc etc etc.

Only that doesn't work so well in a modern setting because .50 cals. Rocket propelled grenades, drones, tanks etc etc etc. magic is kick ass, but ballistic missiles are a thing. Capes make it even less of a stand out.

So why bother with a cross that just makes someone a target? Because my muse said so. Up for adoption, please I don't think I can actually write a crack fic but I want to break a rib laughing.

{}{}{}{} Amy POV

Coming too inside a dark stone room that wouldn't be out of place in a haunted castle was… very much not something I expected, or liked. But it meant the Nine probably weren't the ones who had captured me. Their bases were pretty much always abandoned buildings or buildings where they had killed the previous occupants. Hearing people shouting in English was at least reassuring in that I wouldn't be playing charades with whoever kidnapped me.

"What the hell were you idiots thinking, kidnapping someone! I gave you very specific rules which included not kidnapping anyone!" The voice was young female and furious.

Oh well… that could be either really good or really bad. Either I'd have a sack shoved over my face and get let loose near a town somewhere or I was going to get shot and buried in a shallow grave. Wonderful.

"Mistress! We are no kidnappings no one!" Said someone who sounded like they gargled gravel for fun

"… I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you idiots just told me there was someone in one of the cells. The cells we don't ever use because I ordered you not to kidnap anyone. So, if you didn't kidnap someone what is a person doing in one of the cells?!"

"We is ex-fill-traitering assent of grave value to mistress! So stripy naked woman no eat the assent!"

"Stripy naked woman? … The Siberian? You, you rescued someone from the Slaughterhouse 9?"

"No!"

"Of course nots!" A second gravelly voice chimed in.

"Rescues are being heroic! We no is doing that! This was ex-fill-traitering!" The first gravelly voice said.

"Right. Silly me. Minions would never do anything heroic. Forgive me for slandering your bad reputations." The girl said with a very respectable amount of sarcasm as the door finally swung open.

Backlit by torches were three figures. A lanky teenage girl with black hair, glasses, and a gauntlet that belonged on a heavy metal cover. Flanking her on either side were creatures.

They were gangly things with long limbs and tails. Brown skin covered frankly ugly faces containing fanged grins and pointy ears. They must have stood about four and a half feet high and were dressed in an odd mix of filthy clothes and each carried a club.

"Oh fuck. Tell me I'm not in Ellisburg!"

The girl rolled her eyes.

"You are not in Ellisburg. They are not Nilbog's creatures, and because it'll probably be the next few things you think to ask; no, I'm not going to kill, or torture, or hurt you."

"… Ok, that's good. I can work with that, probably. I'm not being chased by the cannibal stripper anymore so that's definitely something. Thank you?"

The sound of little bells coming down the hallway caused the girl to groan. Holding up a finger she turned and walked towards the sound.

"Defiler of maid- oooph!" There was a loud sound of something hitting flesh.

"How does the blasted Jester keep escaping?! I swear he's dumber than any of you, which is saying something! And yet he always escapes? The heck does he do, eat the chains?!"

"Er yes, Mistress." One of the goblin things answered. "You is not knowing that?"

"… No, Sock. I did not know that. How the hell is he eating through chain?"

"Is very rusty chain. We no loot new chains. Not enough for imp-prisson-ings. Just nuff for swinging at peoples." Sock answered.

"And at other minions!" The other creature said.

The girl walked back into view dragging a third goblin wearing a ratty jester cap by one ear.

"You sure the blues would bring him back if I killed him?"

Sock nodded.

"No one be liking Jester, but we all be liking kicking Jester."

"Right. Of course."

The girl snarled and waved me out of the room. She then chucked the Jester into the same cell before slamming and barring the door. With precise motions she turned and glared at the goblin things.

"From now on if you idiots want to beat up the Jester you do it in his cell, where he can't run away."

"Yes, Overlady!" The two things shouted.

"Sorry about all this." The girl muttered as she led me through the dark hallways. "What's your name?"

"Amy." I decided not to mention my hero name.

"Nice to meet you, Amy. Now let's talk about getting you home and away from this God forsaken tower."

"Just like that? No ransom, no demands of silence?"

"You are currently at least two miles underground in the lowest portion of my tower which is itself inside a massive cave structure. The dimensions and aesthetic of the cave change every three to five days. Lava flows, stalagmites, and glowing crystals are all semi regular features. I believe a previous Overlord or Overlady did something that causes the tower to teleport between cave systems at random intervals. I'm not even sure what continent we are on right now, never mind where we will be tomorrow." The girl's deadpan delivery of such a ridiculous claim had me pause mid step then left me rushing to catch up.

"So, no. No demands of silence. Ransom? I don't even know who you are or why the idiots grabbed you they seem to think you are a potentially valuable asset and I'm glad they stopped the Siberian from killing you… though I'd love to know how they managed that…" She shook her head. "But that's not what I'm about and there's no reason to inconvenience you."

"… Ok, I'm sorry, but I'm just completely confused now. Who are you? What's with the goblins and the supposedly teleporting tower and the evil sounding title? Just… what the hell is going on?!"

Shouting at the potential villain in the heart of her fortress? Probably a terrible plan, but after everything that happened before I woke up here… I was just out of fucks to give. Maybe she'd kill me and I'd never have to face Vicky after what I'd done to her.

The girl actually paused, then sighed and offered me a tired smile.

"I'm Taylor, and all this," she waved a hand indicating the goblin things and the 'supposedly a tower' "I inherited all this when I got lost in a small cave system at summer camp."

That… didn't make sense.

"At first I thought all this was somehow my power, and I was just a really odd cape, but there's crap in this tower dating back to the bronze age. All of it is in terrible condition, but it's there and honestly the condition makes me more willing to believe. Never mind the memoirs written in dozens of languages from previous masters of the tower."

We started up a flight of steps and I shied away from a spider web. One of the little monsters decided to charge through the web and snap its jaws shut around its maker. I gagged a bit at the sight.

"Anyway, some point back in history someone raised the first tower, created the minions, and then went on a murder and rape spree to take over an area around the tower. People got fed up and fought back. The overlord would be overthrown, the tower destroyed, and a generation or two later the tower, or the minions, or forces beyond anyone's understanding would find a new Overlord and the process repeated."

"Wait, wait, a regular tower sure, teleporting tower and goblins? How did someone make those without powers?"

"Magic."

"There's no such-"

She raised the gauntlet and it lit up with a deep red flame that had streaks of black. Somehow. She flexed her fingers and lightning danced between her fingers. Another flex and a spike of Ice shot down the stairs we had just finished climbing.

"Powers showed up with Scion, but all this predates that. I've had to study to learn every ability, none of it was instinctual like powers are meant to be. It's what the minions call it, and I don't have a better word for it. Roll with it, or trying to wrap your head around this place will just end up breaking your mind."

I was still ready to argue the point but she barreled along.

"Anyway. The cycle would repeat. Some Overlords were more successful than others but the general theme held… up until military tactics started to advance. The rise of Empire's instead of city states was the first warning sign. Several of my predecessors got flattened by the Romans because they assumed magic would make up the massive disparity in troop quality, and failed to grasp that they were ridiculously outnumbered."

"That was when one of them decided to get clever and remake the tower underground. And then they continued to innovate by making a system of teleport gates and scattering them all over the world. Each Overlord after him continued the practice until the network covered a good chunk of the world. Somewhere along the line there was a particularly paranoid Overlady who decided the tower should relocate regularly as an extra precaution against reprisals. Which is how the Overlords went from terrors that ruled regions, to bandits."

"That was about the time in history when Europe had knights. Then… humans developed canons, and guns. The Overlords of the time managed to stay dangerous in the days of the flintlock, but only as bandits. Minions don't have the discipline for real military tactics. They're just a horde."

The little monsters wilted at that declaration, but Taylor paid it no mind.

"The last Overlord died from a cannonball while attempting to take over a castle in Germany. And then… nothing. The whole system just seemed to go into hibernation. Like it knew its glory days were over…. Right up until Scion showed up. Then things started to kick into gear again. The skeleton crew of minions watching this place started to grow a little, and they got to work fixing the tower. The little bastards started to go on recon missions. Everything started to pick up speed, but they needed a leader."

She shot me a humorless grin.

"Then I fell down a hole into a cave system and got lost."

"… So, what, you fell into their laps and they decided, good enough?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"Basically? The chief minion likes to go on about how I'm a descendant of a previous Overlord, and insists I've got real talent for spellcasting and strategy, but with no frame of reference that could all be bullshit. I tried to just get out of here and leave it all behind but…"

She sighed and turned down another dimly lit corridor.

"The minions might not be a military force, but they can pop up damn near anywhere in the world and cause chaos. If military and capes can't get there in time, they could do a lot of damage. Right now, I'm the only thing keeping this shit show restrained. And while they'll never conquer the world, they could cause a lot of death."

"Overlady being to humbles still!" One of the minions declared. "Overlady is very smarts and powerful, with her we is sure to be conq-coir-ing at least small country! Like in old days!"

Taylor shot me a look and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, thank you, Sock." Taylor said as sarcastically as possible.

The minion preened.

"So, I stay, direct the idiots at what I deem to be acceptable targets, and practice magic. Only now the little bastards are kidnapping people." She shot me a look. "Which does beg the question of why they thought you would be an asset."

I didn't want to say anything. Unfortunately, Sock did.

"She is being healer, Overlady! Like blues, and she is smelling of evil potential like Overlady! Pain and anger and trauma and potential!" Sock shouted as we walked into a ridiculously cliché throne room.

Everything was smooth black stone. There was an oversized black throne, and banners of deep blood red hung from the walls. It was actually a little intimidating.

The other minion picked up the firsts train of thought.

Overlady is always saying we no take over country because we get forever killed by capies! But we is thinking, if we have our own capies we be fighting back better, and no is being forever dead!"

Sock nodded fast enough that his ears started to whip about as he spoke again.

"So we go looking for Evil capies to join Overladies army! We is following most evil groups we can! But they is all "est-table-ished and thinking they is the worstest of the worst and is not wanting to follow Overlady. So we is talking to Gnarl and he is praising us for our idea and telling us how to do it worser! He is saying we need to find new Evil that no are thinking they be the worstest and letting Overlady build up army of new talent!"

Taylor stopped dead in her tracks and closed her eyes. I was fairly certain She was actually counting to ten.

"I see."

The glow of a lamp preceded a new minion, this one bowed with age and sporting a patchwork beard stepping out from the shadows behind the throne.

"Do not be offended your diabolicalness. Your grand plan is a masterwork of Evil thinking, but Sock was quite correct. Having more or these parahumans to fight under your banner can only be to your benefit. And while their black and shriveled hearts were in the right place bringing you the leaders of gangs and prominent warlords or mass murderers would not have ended well. Established evil is not prone to acknowledging an upstart, no matter how superior to them you may be. Treachery would have been inevitable and I am loathe to train another Overlord or Lady from scratch before your reign of terror even begins."

"Gnarl…" Taylor grit out before sighing and plopping down onto her throne. "Why are you encouraging this? You already approved of my plan and this was never part of it!"

"Indeed your maleficence, your grand plan is truly a twisted and vicious joy. But you've failed to consider one key aspect."

"And that would be what exactly? I'll have enough power to cow the world into submission. I'll have subjects that are happy I've taken over. You idiot minions get to see an Overlady conquer part of the world again just like old times. Everyone wins. So, tell me what exactly do you think I've overlooked?"

"While your plan will prevent anyone from attacking in force. And indeed, it will see to it that no one sane would ever dare kill you for fear of what they would unleash, there are always those arrogant or stupid enough to call a bluff. Even if the bluff is no bluff at all."

Taylor said nothing but her eyes narrowed as she observed the ancient looking goblin.

"Overlady, even in the old days an Overlord had to be wary of assassins and manipulators. In this new age those are the least of worries, these strangers and masters as you call them could be your undoing, and while minions are the finest army for the forces of evil there is no reason not to diversify your forces in preparation for dealing with the inevitable usurpers."

Taylor leaned back in her throne and the metal fingers of her gauntlet drummed a sharp precise beat along one of the arm rests.

"You have a point. However, parahumans are volatile at the best of times and press ganging them into service will just mean that I spend the rest of my life watching them for a knife in my back."

Well… she wasn't wrong. And I was really hoping that meant I wasn't about to get forced into anything.

"True, my Lady." Gnarl admitted. "But the young woman is here. And Sock is correct, she has great potential for Evil." the minion grimaced. "Though I suspect she thinks much the same way you do, Overlady and will insist on trying to twist the forces of Evil towards a good cause." The gremlin gagged on the words as if they pained him.

"We've talked about this, Gnarl. Cartoon villainy and the days of long lived Warlords are dead and gone. Nations pay attention to what goes on beyond their borders. Besides, your attempts to start an insurance company have been… less than successful."

The minion sighed.

"Truly a shame, it's such a devilishly complicated yet elegant type of Evil. One day I'll fully understand it's secrets!"

That… well, I suppose if he was obsessed with being Evil that was a pretty reasonable career choice. Would have to be that or divorce lawyer really. Maybe a politician, but no one was going to vote for, that.

"Still, Overlady, the young woman is here now, and you might as well try to recruit her."

Taylor looked back and forth between the minion and I before finally sighing.

"Right, I told you the history of this place. I've explained that I'm trying to keep these murderous little shits on a short leash. I eventually want to be able to go outside and talk to real people again instead of minions. I want to make the world a better place. And no matter how much I deny it… I've seen what politicians do when you give them power. It's a whole lot of nothing. So, if I'm going to do this, I'm doing it all the way. So, the plan. Take over a chunk of the world no one cares about that's already run by warlords. Kill the opposition which is making everyone's lives hell. Improve quality of life for my subjects, so they'll actually like me and my rule. Then put the minions to work wiping out bandits and rival warlords to make my people safe and to expand my territory so I can make life better for even more people."

"You'd get wiped out." I spoke into the expectant silence. "They'd call you a biotinker because of the minions. They'd put together and army and wipe you out. Or just launch missiles until the area was nothing but craters."

Taylor grinned and pointed at me with a metal encased finger and a triumphant grin.

"Yes! Exactly! Took me months to get that through the thick skulls of the smartest minions and most of those still don't understand why that's a bad thing. To them it doesn't matter so long as they get to have their fun. But there's three ways around that. Be remote enough that no one can be bothered to deal with me, be too small a threat to deal with, or be too great a threat to even poke."

I nodded to show I was listening.

"Like you said they'll call me a biotinker so the second isn't an option. And for the same reasons being remote likely won't hold as a defense for long. Not if I expand at all. So, the only option is to be so powerful no one would ever risk annoying me and to have a contingency in place to fuck everyone should I be killed."

My eyes narrowed.

"And you've got something like that? Some way to be make the whole world back down?" I asked.

"Well, not yet. I've been storing up power every day for a year and amassing the resources and reagents I'll need to make this work. But I'll be ready to go in a few months." Her grin was a beautiful image of smug satisfaction, and despite myself I was curious.

"How? Sure, you have minions and your power you're calling magic but how are you going to make the whole world get out of your way?"

"Why, Amy, it's not like it hasn't been done before already. I'm just going to… appropriate those that can do so."

"What?"

"I'm going to steal the Endbringers."

Years later I would look back on that moment and never be sure if I regretted my choice or not. Truly one couldn't hang around the minions without their morals picking up a few dents. And I'd done things a proper hero never should. But by the same token it was impossible to deny that working for Taylor did improve both the world and my own mental health. In the end I had to content myself with that. Well, that and the small harem of woman who were all attracted to either power, cute girls, or both. That… yeah that was definitely one of the jobs better perks.

 

[Fencer]

AN: revisiting a fan fiction classic with a new twist. The Harry Potter Vegas vacation prompt is by all rights one of the dumbest things I've run across in that almost all of them have the cast just roll with a major life changing event shared with a total stranger. It's always the teenagers fault… silently watches had a good spin on it though. Liked that one. Let's see how this turns out.

Please note I've been forcibly loaned to the paint department which somehow means general cleaning with the bare minimum of instruction and little to no oversite and no real expectations for us to meet some nights. It sucks. I'm bored. I'm regularly done early which means time to dick around for a half hours worth of writing or more. No beta I'm bored enough that I'm posting this at work after a couple re reads to give it the once over.

POV: Taylor Hebert
location: cauldron cell
Point in Timeline: immediately post surrender to the PRT

With an explosive exhale I tried to jolt upright only to be held down by straps across my arms legs and chest. Glancing around.

"The fuck?!"

I didn't remember falling asleep. I should not have fallen asleep. There were no bugs in my range. None.

"Good morning, miss Hebert."

My head whipped to the side revealing a blurry outline. Blinking I finally realized I didn't have my mask, with its corrective lenses, or my costume. Instead, I was wearing... a dress? It felt like a dress.

…Who the fuck was the soon to be corpse that undressed me and where the fuck was my costume?! That took me months of work to make!

"I'm sorry we have to meet like this. I don't often need to interfere so directly, and usually when I do it's in a more final manner. But you represent an opportunity. Removing your allies fail safes and removing them from play without harming them was a refreshing change of pace from how problems are normally delt with."

The others were alive… hopefully. There was no reason to trust this woman. But if she was being honest… well there went all of my leverage.

"What did you do to them?" I demanded.

"They have been temporarily relocated to an alt earth with a very low concentration of parahumans. They should have no problems thriving. Should you succeed, you should be reunited, eventually." She said with infuriating calm.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

"Succeed at what exactly?" I glared at the women.

"It didn't have to be you." The woman continued, ignoring my question. "There were others I could use for this. But you are… appropriate. In temperament, morals, and ability. More than that, though you did not yet know it, this was necessary to save one of my few friends from you. Alexandria is simply incapable of bending. Much like yourself." She patted my arm. "But until you there has never been a cape that could have successfully killed her when she forced them to lash out. So, I'm sending you not only because you are up to the task, but to spare my friend. Given I've pulled your own friends out of the line of fire I trust you will consider it a fair exchange."

No not really because even if both our friends got to walk away from this alive, I was getting separated from mine and she wasn't! And how the hell was I supposed to kill Alexandria with bugs?! I mean I could try to choke her to death with them but… well that might work.

"Normally I would give you more details but… well, chances are you would do anything else out of spite, and then be left stranded on an alt Earth until Dinah's predictions about the End of the World become relevant."

Which wasn't how I wanted to spend the time leading up to things. Thank you very much for the doomsday reminder, you bitch.

"Instead, I would just advice you to go with your instincts, and not murder anyone out of hand."

With another pat on my arm, she turned and walked out of the room. I started shouting after her, but I was ignored and then there was only the hissing sound of a dispersing gas.

{}{}{}{}

POV: Harry Potter
Location: Las Vegas Nevada
Point in timeline: summer after fifth year

I was going to kill Tonks for dragging me here like this.

"Come to Vegas, Harry. You need a vacation, Harry. Sirius would want you to have some fun, Harry."

It was all a crock of shite… well alright, Sirius would probably have approved. And I do need a vacation. But this? This wasn't me. Lights, and noise, and people. This just made me feel twitchy and crowded.

Still there was probably something I could salvage from the night considering the trace didn't work outside of the UK. A switching spell on my water bottle netted me a full bottle of rum. I waved to Tonks and Remus where they were dancing, once I caught Tonks eye, I pointed at the bracelet she charmed with a tracking spell and jerked my head towards the exit.

The half drunk metemorph just grinned and waved me off before refocusing on Remus.

To hell with the both of them. I was finding a relatively quiet corner and getting drunk.

Two streets, one rapid retreat from a constable who would never believe the fake ID Tonks gave me, four times ducking in and then immediately out of a building based only on noise level, and what must have been about six fingers of rum later, I finally gave up and dropped onto a bus stop bench. Two fingers of rum after that and quiet cursing drew my eyes to the left where a leggy girl around my age in a modest sundress wobbled like someone hit by a jelly legs jinx. She stumbled her way over and collapsed onto the other end of the bench rubbing at her temples.

"Try something and I'll kill you." She slurred.

Discretion being the better part of valor I took another drink and offered her the bottle.

She glared at it.

"Not drunk. Crazy bitch drugged me and dumped me out here. S'm sorta gas."

"Why? And how're you're you going to kill me while drugged to high hell." I asked, taking another sip. The world was starting to roll a bit, and everything was getting sort of fuzzy. It was a hell of an improvement over the last few weeks.

"Crazy bitch has a thinker power. Something, something, stopping me before I can do whatever." She made a disgusted exhale.

Thinker power?

"And drugging you?"

"Hell if I know. S'why I'm calling her, crazy bitch."

"That sucks."

I offered her the bottle again.

She sighed, but this time she took a swig.

"Now I'm stuck, and alone, again!" She slugged back a bit more of the rum before passing it back.

I nodded.

"My cousin dragged me out here from Britain, said I needed a vacation." I took a swig. "Bollocks, she just wanted to drag me along so she could pull my uncle into it and try and get in his pants."

I took another swig before passing the bottle.

"Which is shite, cuss I could really use a vacation. Bloody terrorist wankers can't just leave me the hell alone."

The girl took a swig and eyed me carefully.

"Terrorists?"

"Inbred tossers, obsessed with nobility and bloodlines. Dangerous, too many sympathizers in the government. Took a year to get them to admit they were even around."

The bottle was starting to look a bit low, maybe I should slow down? After this one.

"Be coming for me again sooner or later." I muttered before passing the bottle.

"Be ready when they do. Kill em first." She took another drink, eyed the bottle, shook her head and set it aside.

"Jus like that then? Kill em first?" I asked.

"What else would you do? Roll over and let them have the first shot, and all the rest too?" She snorted. "Doesn't work on bullies, doesn't work on villains, don't see why it'd work on terrorist. Only ones you can trust to have your back are your friends. Worry about them and yourself."

"And kill the terrorist?"

"You turn em over to the police, will they stay locked up? You said they had friends in the government?"

"I don't really want to be like them though, isn't that…"

"Terrorists, right? Tryin to kill you? Tryin to kill other people?"

"Yeah." I admitted.

"You don't fight back to kill ya won't be anything like them. Cuss they'll be alive, and you'll be dead."

… I think I'd have a hard time arguing against that sober.

"… Right. Kill em first." I muttered as I took another pull from the bottle I didn't remember picking back up.

{}{}{}{}

POV: Taylor
Location: Vegas hotel suite
Time: 10 AM

I was unspeakably tempted to gather a swarm for the sole purpose of acting as a blackout curtain and cutting off the sunlight leaking into the room. Instead, I was doing the smart thing and dispersing a small swarm around the hotel suite and in the hallway outside.

My throbbing head objected. My sense of self preservation overruled it.

I still couldn't see very well, but I'd found a carving knife in the kitchen and wedged it between the armrest and couch cushion. My swarm was something like ninety percent irritants with a handful of decent scorpions. Not that they couldn't be used to strip flesh from bone in short order if I used enough, but I wanted more wasps and venomous spiders.

The smart thing to do would be to leave. But I'd woken up on the couch, still dressed, across from the boy passed out in the recliner, also still dressed. Clothes still being on, and the lack of any telling soreness bought the group some leeway. The mystery ring on my finger that wouldn't even budge, which matched the boys? That demanded an explanation which I was going to get even if I needed to start cramming scorpions in orifices.

More practically… I had nowhere to go. No identification. No resources. And the lack of cape news on any of the six news stations I'd found on tv pretty clearly said I wasn't on Earth Bet anymore. Seriously, what the hell were the Triumvirate doing hiding a cape like the crazy bitch?

Yes, thinkers did better from the shadows and there was no reason to think she also had whatever power transported me here but if they had access to dimensional portals why the hell were we not evacuating Bet and leaving the Endbringers to rampage across an empty planet? None of this made any damn sense and without being able to threaten someone with all the spiders I probably wasn't going to get any answers. Certainly wasn't going to get those answers from anyone in this dimension.

So, waiting, sipping water, wishing aspirin did more than take the edge off of my hangover. Not murdering whoever these people were out of hand, because I wanted answers about the fucking ring. Keeping my eyes shut because a hangover and lack of glasses mixed just made the headache worse.

Never would have turned myself in if I knew this was going to happen. If I ever get home, I'm going to have words with Dina over this.

A groan from the recliner got me to open my eyes and squint at the blob lying there.

"Morning. Water and aspirin on the counter. Not much but it helped a bit."

The boy jolted upright.

"Who are…. Oh, you're the girl from last night. Er we didn't…"

"Not as far as I can tell." I answered blandly. "And there goes my faint hope that you would remember last night and tell me what happened."

"I remember talking on the bench. You advised killing terrorists… not much after that though." The boy said as he stumbled towards the water and aspirin.

"So, nothing more than I remember. Great. Hopefully the couple in the bed will know something."

I closed my eyes and huffed. I should probably look into getting breakfast, but last time I stood up the room was still shaking. I didn't really feel like pushing my luck.

"What's your name anyway?" I asked. "I'm assuming we must have done introductions last night, but my memories cut off before that."

"Harry Potter. You?"

"Taylor Hebert." Another dimension. No point using an alias here. "Don't suppose you have a spare set of glasses do you? No idea if our prescriptions are the same but I'd settle for less fuzzy right now."

Harry muttered something then wobbled over to place a pair of glasses in my hand. They were an old full circle design in a metal frame. Not my usual look but beggars can't be choosers.

Sure enough, they were not my prescription. They did make things less fuzzy.

"Thanks, not a match, but it's an improvement."

"Sooo, drugged and dumped in Vegas?" He asked.

"It's a long story, unless you want to explain why terrorists are after you?"

"…Maybe put that off till the hangover goes away."

My lips twitched up and I shook my head.

"More interested in why the wedding ring won't come off."

"Wedding ring?" He checked his own hand. "Oh bloody hell!"

"Yeah, that about sums it up. You know I always heard about people getting drunk married in Vegas, but I didn't realize it was a thing that actually happened."

And if there was some power involved in keeping the damn thing on my finger? Well, that was something to look into. If this place had a covert cape culture, well I wanted to know about them and what rules they play by. Before I got my head taken off for interfering in anything.

Harry tugged at his own ring. It did about as much as my own efforts which is to say nothing.

"Tried soapy water but it didn't do anything. Weirdly it doesn't actually feel tight, it just won't move. Can't even spin it." I spoke up.

Harry glared at the ring before blowing out a breath.

"This might just be my honorary uncle's idea of a joke. It's a bit tasteless for him, but if he was as drunk as we were…"

I was still betting on some kind of power being involved with this nonsense so that might make his honorary uncle my first point of contact with whatever groups had powers here. But if that was the case… if powers ran in families like back home?

I might be outnumbered on top of being potentially outgunned.

Well, maybe it was time to give diplomacy another try. With no reputation to fall back on that would be both easier and harder. No villain stigma, but also no rep. I could try playing up the lost and alone angle… but if these people weren't the nice sort that could backfire. Badly.

Harry distracted me from my thoughts with a triumphant cry as he fished something out of a messenger bag.

"Something some friends from school cooked up. Heat free firecrackers basically."

"My head is in no condition to appreciate even those little bang snaps they give kids at carnivals. Why are you playing with something like that now?"

Harry gestured at the bedroom.

"Because if this is Remus's idea of a joke I want to get even."

My lips twitched up and I jammed my fingers in my ears. This might not help with the whole diplomacy thing, but at least it would cut down on the waiting for answers bit.

Thirty seconds with the bangs and snaps ongoing and I was now certain I'd stumbled into a group of people with powers. Chemical reactions that make a good pop without heat? Sure, I'd buy that. Ones that just kept going? That sounded like Tinker work. My bugs just caught flashes and streaks of light. I didn't have enough coverage to get a clear picture.

It took another minute for the bangs and snaps to stop. And the whole time the room's occupants were shouting. It took another five before they managed to find all their clothes and stagger out of the room.

"You bloody wanker." The woman who stormed out of the room had blood red hair and a scowl on her face. "Lighting off one of the twins' inventions before a girl gets her hangover potion is just rude!"

She waved the stick in her hand and two corked bottles flew across the room to her. She passed off the second to the man following behind her. She popped the cork, chugged, grimaced, then froze as she caught sight of me. Her hair wilted to a muddy brown instantly and Harry slapped a hand to his face.

"Great job, Tonks. Never mind the Statue of Secrecy when you need a hangover cure is that it? You are supposed to be an Auror!" Harry snapped.

Well, this sounded like it was going downhill in a hurry, so maybe…

I coughed and set a few hundred flies into multiple orbits around myself.

All three of them gaped at me.

"I take it you keep things like this quiet around here?"

Then there was shouting, and questions, and an exchange of information.

{}{}{}{}
POV: Harry Potter

"I don't believe this shite!" Tonks shouted as she slammed her hands onto the coffee table. "Other dimensions, superheroes straight out of Saturday morning cartoons, and monsters that'd make Godzilla cry for mummy! This is ridiculous!"

Taylor just arched an eyebrow calm as can be.

"Oh yeah? You have magic terrorists led by a lich. You have magical animals straight out of children's novels and a government so inept that they believed a teenager posed a serious threat to their right to govern and respond by torturing minors…. And not a single parent attempted to do anything about it." The fact the teachers did nothing was less than surprising.

Tonks opened her mouth for an angry retort, paused to consider the point… and Taylor went right on talking like she hadn't noticed the impending eruption.

"Frankly the only reason I'm not scoffing at the fact you call your powers magic is that it's almost entirely universal and requires training. Back home people would point at you and laugh if you claimed you were using magic."

Tonks pouted.

"If you weren't a muggle, I'd demand an oath on your magic that you weren't bull shitting us."

"You're the witch." Taylor scoffed. "Draw some runes in blood or something so I can't lie, just so long as you let me say I'd rather not answer. I'm American, and we're rather fond of the fifth amendment."

Which meant, what?

"What?" Tonks asked, saving me the embarrassment.

"Right to refuse to incriminate myself. You don't need to know my whole life story."

"Not that." Tonks scoffed. "That rubbish about drawing runes in blood."

"I've known about magic for half an hour. Excuse me if I'm drawing my understanding from fiction until I learn all the rules for it."

Which was entirely fair in my mind. Especially given how many of the cliches were true… which did beg the question of how exactly the cliches held true across dimensions when her world supposedly did not have magic. Or if the cliches did in fact hold true. Hard to be sure yet. Hermione would go nuts trying to figure all this out.

"Look, forget about that for now." Taylor said. "It's not like you have a better explanation of what I am, and we can figure out proof later. The only reason I didn't swarm all of you is that I woke up dressed and not sleeping next to anyone."

And wasn't that a scary thought…

"The damn ring won't come off and I want an explanation, now." Taylor demanded as she showed Tonks the back of her and the ring she wore. I held up my own hand just to drive the point home.

"Yeah, jokes a joke and all, Remus, but this isn't funny. What did you do? Password lock the sticking charm?" I asked.

Remus, who had been suspiciously quiet, fidgeted like a nervous first year before clearing his throat to speak.

"So, umm, I'm assuming none of you actually remembers last night then?"

Tonks shook her head just as Taylor said "No."

"Ahh, well, I, um, do remember."

Taylor reached up to rub the bridge of her nose as the bugs in the room started to move around a bit violently.

"So, we found you two shortly after you finished the bottle of rum, which we should talk about where you got that-"

"Switching spell, lecture me later and get on with it, Remus." I cut him off.

He puffed up like he was ready to start a lecture now only for Taylor's bugs to ratchet up their volume as she glared.

Remus coughed and got on with it.

"Tonks dragged all of us to a small, office? Chapel? Both? Really not sure. Said she'd made arrangements in advance, then started insisting you two join us because she always wanted a double wedding…"

Tonks thunked her head on the coffee table and started to curse.

"I think you two just agreed to shut her up honestly. Taylor said something about it not mattering anyway, which I assume is related to the fact the government doesn't think you exist here?"

She nodded tightly and muttered, "Probably."

"So, we got married and headed back here." Remus finished.

"And the reason the rings will not come off?" Taylor demanded in a scary flat voice.

Remus and Tonks both flinched.

"In my defense I was drunk enough to not think it through at the time and Tonks apparently set things up in advance." Remus held up his hands in front of his chest. "But, uh, it was a magical wedding ceremony. Actual magic. Really old, really serious magic. The kind that doesn't appreciate people going back on their vows."

And here Remus took a second to glare at Ton- huh, can't call her that anymore. Nymphadora, he glared at Nymphadora in a way which promised a future conversation.

"Nymphadora Lupin what the fuck did you do?!" I shouted as I rounded on her. "You dragged me out here saying I needed a vacation, but it's been nothing but stressful for me, and then you go and drag me into a magically enforced marriage with a perfect stranger while both of us were drunk enough to agree to anything!"

I was dimly aware that the number of bugs in the room seemed to be skyrocketing.

Tonks opened her mouth to say something only to stop as a swarm of flies started to circle her.

"What exactly are the terms we are bound to? What kind of limitations will this put on us?" Taylor's voice was perfectly, terrifyingly, level. The insects on the other hand were going nuts. I might not be Hermione, but I was going to bet there was a connection there.

"It's an old vow. I don't remember the specifics, but… you two won't be able to go more than a certain distance from one another until you… consummate, the marriage." Remus said.

Taylor's hand dipped in and out of the couch, coming back up with a carving knife which she laid across her lap. She did not look away from Remus as she did so. Remus gulped but kept talking.

"If you two harm each other physically or emotionally with intent, the vow will punish you for it with pain. If you were to kill your partner…"

"The vow will kill us." Taylor finished.

Remus nodded.

I started cursing under my breath.

Taylor tapped a finger against her knife.

"If, and I stress the if, we consummated it. Could we go our separate ways and live our lives with just a permanent piece of jewelry."

"No." Tonks answered not looking at any of us. "You could go your separate ways, never see each other again, but, ugh. The old vows like this consider infidelity to be a betrayal. The magic… you couldn't be with anyone else."

The noise of the bugs exploded to a whole new level. Before they all landed and fell silent. Then she spoke while looking directly at her ring.

"If my husband, Harry Potter, took part in our marriage, knowing what it meant and entailed in an attempt to entrap and coerce me, then I would consider such to be a grievous betrayal, and an attempt to harm me."

There was a moment of stillness and then magic surged through the room, through the rings, and through us. Even Taylor seemed surprised and aware of it despite being a muggle. I realized just what she was doing, what she was potentially setting me up for. And I really couldn't blame her. This looked really, really bad from just about any perspective. Fifteen seconds later the magic receded. I gave it another ten count before blowing out the breath I'd been holding and slumping back in my chair.

"Huh… honestly didn't expect… that." Taylor muttered before looking my way. "I'm sorry, I've been betrayed, a lot. And you seem alright but…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"Can't say I blame you." I admitted.

The Lupins were both looking at Taylor with bug eyed expressions, if I wasn't riding an adrenaline crash right now, I'd probably look similar. Taylor learned about magic existing less than an hour ago and she managed to exploit an old marriage vow she didn't even know the wording of to act in her own defense. That wasn't power like Dumbledore, or book smarts like Hermione, that was clever and ruthless and intuitive. Which could be really handy considering-

I blanched as I realized what I was thinking and what she had just called magic to judge me on.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out. "I just, if you're stuck with me that means… that means you're a target now too."

She blinked, looked at me and then frowned.

"Terrorists. Right, you're a high priority target and now I'm connected to you." She crossed her arms and scowled. "I suppose we could, ergh, consummate the marriage. Then I could disappear into some city's criminal community. Maybe even move from city to city. Might keep a few of the fuckers busy chasing false leads you could drop… but if they have some magic way to track people?"

Nymphadora wiggled a hand back and forth.

"They would need something to track you by, blood would be best and even then, it's tricky."

Taylor hummed.

"Then you'd be risking your life against terrorist, and I'd be risking mine against gangs… frankly I like my odds more than yours, but that'd be pretty callous. Last one standing gets on with their life and we call it a bust after five years if we're both still kicking?"

Ok, oww, that stung, but I couldn't exactly disagree either. I'd like her odds more than mine too.

"But you said this guy was genocidal right? Anyone that doesn't meet his pureblood ideology dies or lives as second class citizens?"

I nodded.

Taylor hesitated.

"I'd be pretty useless during winter, and if, if, I agreed to help I'm going to need some things to close the gap, magic bugs would be a good start. Knives and guns are going to be a must if I'm going to be playing counter terrorist."

Well, that was a terrifying thought. Swarms of magical bugs and guns in the hands of someone whose advice was "kill them first."

Nymphadora sputtered.

"Are you crazy! We're British, we can't just buy guns in America and take them back with us!"

"Well of course not. If we bought them that would leave a trail for someone to follow. But we're in America. Between your magic and my ability to search with my bugs we could all be decked out for war in a couple hours if we find the kind of dipshit that collects tons of guns. If we're really lucky they'll be the kind that ignores laws and mods them to be full auto. Or keeps military grade sniper rifles."

She looked thoughtful as she tapped at her knee.

"I can cheat a bit if I use bugs for aiming, but we should get plenty of ammo, so I have enough to practice with."

The Lupin's were spluttering messes. I started to laugh. Taylor was nothing like anyone at Hogwarts. Between the fifth amendment thing and the way she acted? Good bet she wasn't one of those cartoon heroes. And that was… well probably not what I'd have gone looking for in a wife. But if she was willing to help fight Voldemort… That could be really useful.

"You know I like that version more." I offered. "We fight the same group, and if we're both still standing when it's all said and done maybe we can make it work."

Taylor's lips twitched up.

"Well, they're not neo Nazi's so it's not quite like home, but they're close enough for stomping them to feel familiar. Tell me the full story instead of the cliff notes before I decide?"

"We've got the time." I agreed. This whole mess was shite, but maybe we could salvage something from it after all. Or at least not be miserable forever.

 

[Fencer]

AN: So, more Vegas. Because uhhhh actually fuck if I know, I just had ideas. Muse said go and… I don't know. I'm just going to enjoy my muse kicking into overdrive and writing something because it's fun for me and there isn't any stress or expectations on it yet.

---

{}{}{}{}

POV: Taylor Hebert

Wandering the city with my new husband was not how I wanted to spend my day. But there were things I wanted to do before we left, and things I needed to do if I was going to help fight a small war. I couldn't do any of those things if I left hubby behind so we were just going to get a head start on the whole 'getting to know you' disaster.

I was actually a little lucky. All it took to get the address of the shady magical marriage parlor was glaring at Nymphadora. Harry was curious enough about what I intended to do that I only had to ask to convince him to come with me after we'd tested how far from one another we could get.

The answer was about six hundred feet. Not a lot of room to range away, but enough to give some illusion of freedom. Tonks had been stunned and insisted it shouldn't have allowed for more than sixty feet, but I was betting my power's range had something to do with it. Which was a very good reason to find some magical bugs that thrived in the cold or we might find ourselves getting much closer come winter. Unless I could convince him to give up on the crazy Scottish Castle and find a property somewhere warm that we could turn into a deathtrap for any attacking force.

Harry had countered that idea by explaining what Acromantula were and how many were living in the forest by his school. Which had started a discussion about why he went near them without my powers, and how unbelievably lethal his school was. Harry further pointed out that the school being lethal could hopefully be turned in his favor for once and the fact that without magical protections the Death Eaters could probably just wipe out a normal safe house with Fiendfire.

I wasn't really happy about that argument, but he did make several good points I had no ready counter for. And the fact he seemed to be thinking in terms of tactics was reassuring, sort of, because if he couldn't even get a little creative on his own, I'd outlive him. And while that might solve a lot of my current problems he didn't deserve to die just because we were stuck together.

His cousin on the other hand… even if dragging the two of us into this mess was just her being too drunk to think straight. She'd still trapped Remus into a marriage that he couldn't get out of. She'd planned it out in advance. The fact Remus was angry, but accepting, was insane. Even if they had been dating already this was the kind of bullshit that should destroy a relationship.

Harry saying it was complicated didn't explain anything. Remus agreeing that it was complicated made me want to grab the man by the shoulder and shake sense into him.

"So, now that we're away from my auror cousin-" Harry started to say.

"What is an auror?" I cut him off.

"Magic police, and maybe a bit of MI5 type work as well? Not entirely sure. Didn't really grow up with all of this."

Right, he mentioned normal relatives, very briefly, with the kind of tone I'd heard from most of the Undersiders when discussing family. Landmine for another day.

"Anyway, now that we're away from her and we don't need to worry about plausible deniability, I've got two questions."

"Just two?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry just grinned.

"Only two right now. You weren't one of the heroes, were you?"

I seriously considered lying, but he already sounded certain, and honestly the way I acted… Gunboat diplomacy is still diplomacy, right? But if we were going to be stuck together, and I was not jumping in bed with a stranger without a much better reason than losing a six hundred foot leash…We were going to have to work together. And that meant extending a little trust.

"I wanted to be, at first. But… I was a mess when I first went out, I felt like I needed to prove my worth before I could join them. I didn't really want to deal with a bunch of teenage capes either. It sounded like more high school drama and…" I shook my head. "I couldn't really take any more of that. So, I came up with the brilliant plan to go undercover, only my hero contact didn't want to give me time to work, and I started to like the people I teamed up with, and then there was this little girl I needed to save. I couldn't really help her unless I stayed part of the team, and two of the heroes had tried to kill me at that point and just…" I wasn't getting into my trigger with him now. Maybe someday if we became friends, but not today. Maybe not ever. "Before I ended up here? Before the crazy bitch got involved? I actually turned myself in. I remember sitting in a cell waiting for a chance to negotiate with someone. I wanted them to leave my friends alone, and in exchange put me to work hunting down the worst of the worst. It was something I'd be good at, and it was more important than just playing king of the castle with the city."

For a minute we walked in silence.

"Thanks for being honest." Harry said sincerely.

"What was your other question?"

"What are we doing to the asshole who performed the ceremony?"

That actually got me to chuckle.

"Hold out your hand." I said.

Harry glanced at me but complied.

I landed a fly in his hand. A fly that was carrying a termite.

"I'm collecting every termite I can and when we get there, I'm going to set them to chewing through all the supports. Would normally take a while for them to do serious damage, but it's pretty amazing what bugs can do when they're backed by human intelligence. Besides that? He's about to get the mother of all scorpion infestations and if the rings and money he has on site aren't locked up too tight? I could use some start up funds."

Harry gaped at me and I couldn't help grinning just a little.

"I'd like to storm in there and start swarming him with all the bugs while screaming about him being a slaver or something. But I want to keep my powers quiet. Surprise is only good once. I'd hate for word of what you married to get back to this lich of yours before I get to take my first shot at him or his people."

Harry faked gaging.

"Ergh, the wanker isn't mine. Saying it like that just sounds creepy. And why do you keep calling him a Lich?"

"Well, he's not exactly the classic version. Those are usually some sort of undead skeleton that can still think. I always thought of them as some necromancer binding his soul to his bones so he won't pass on, but most fiction skips the part about how they are made. Usually, they're fine with that and want to conquer something with an army of zombies."

Harry hummed thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's it. He was running around as a spirit, no bones involved."

Which was a good point. So, the fucker wasn't a lich. But then what was he? Drawing on the fantasy genre and fairytales for hints and clues and ideas sounded like it was going to be pretty hit or miss. But… well…

"Then maybe he's more like Sauron." I offered.

"Sauron?"

"The main antagonist from Lord of the Rings. He was killed in battle, but he had put a part of himself into his ring. The man who killed him, was tempted by the ring's power and chose not to destroy it. But so long as the ring survived Sauron did too, just not physically."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he worried at his bottom lip.

"The diary, the one from my second year." He muttered back.

My eyebrow shot up, but then I nodded.

"That would make sense. A memory possessing someone sounds a bit sketchy but if it was a piece of his soul or something…"

And man did I ever have mixed feelings about that. Soul's are real. See dementors and the feeding of. I wasn't going to run off and join a church, because I wasn't really impressed with any of them, but if heaven and hell are real too… Maybe it was a good thing I was trying to give up the villain life and turn over a new leaf.

"But he's still around." Harry countered, which was also a very good point.

"Could there be more than one?" I asked.

Harry scowled.

"That sounds like the worst case scenario, so knowing my luck? Probably. Unless we're well off the mark in the first place."

"Still, might be something to ask this Dumbledore about."

"There is that. Hopefully he'll give me a straight answer."

"Even if he doesn't, watch his face. People, even ancient politicians, give plenty away when you catch them off guard."

Harry only hummed thoughtfully so I let the topic lie for now.

We were finally in range of the chapel and I was going to ruin this man.

{}{}{}{}

POV Harry Potter.

Watching Taylor work was interesting. Not so much what she was doing with the bugs because I couldn't see that, which was mildly terrifying to think about, but how she effortlessly navigated a city she'd never been in to find every shady pawn shop, and back alley watch salesman. Selling off the wedding bands she'd stolen a few at a time with a different believable story every time.

"Man kept going on about owning a chapel here, but he was shit at poker. Bet me a few rings he had on him when he ran out of chips." Taylor said straight faced to the latest pawn shop owner who was busy examining the rings.

"Well, it's all fourteen carrot, simple bands. So, you weren't scammed, but I'd bet he told you it was worth more than it is."

"I figured that even before I won them, but the man was terrible at cards. Easy money is easy money. What'll you give me for them?"

"Well, ten rings of this quality and in a basic design? I'll give you say, eighty per."

Taylor scoffed.

"You could melt them down and get more than that. They're probably worth one fifty from a jeweler."

"Sure, but this is a pawn shop, not a jewelers. And with such a boring design? If they don't move I probably will melt them down to sell for metal. Product sitting around doesn't make me money. I'll give you eighty five per, but no more."

Taylor did an amazing job of glaring like a wet kitten instead of a biblical plague. Then she made a show of glancing around the shop before perking up.

"How about eighty per and you throw in those punch daggers." She pointed at the small triangle blades with the weird handles.

The man behind the counter did some quick thinking and then scoffed.

"Girl, don't make me laugh. If you're going to try and screw me, at least try and be a bit less obvious about it."

"Fine, fine." Taylor waved her hand. "A ring per knife and eighty per for the remaining eight rings."

The man laughed genuinely.

"Much better! But no deal. A ring per knife and seventy five per for the other eight."

Taylor scoffed, then sighed, and offered the man her hand.

"Fine, deal."

"Pleasure doing business with you." The man grinned.

Ten minutes later we were back on the street, and I asked something I was sure I knew the answer to.

"You don't care about the money at all do you? You're really just after the weapons."

Her running count so far was two police batons, the punch daggers, three military knives in different styles, a small case of pepper spray, and a taser.

"Yup, but going to a bunch of different places gives me a few benefits though. Spreads the rings across the city and makes us harder to pin down. Getting the weapons as an afterthought muddies the water a little as opposed to just walking in and buying a number of weapons all in one place, and it gives me a chance to search for any gun nuts we could help with their very specific hoarding problem."

I really wasn't sure how to feel about… most of that. Actually, the only part I was fully on board with was screwing over the man who performed the ceremony. Loading up on weapons and planning to steal guns and bullets from a perfect stranger because it was convenient? Definitely didn't feel too great about that. Doing all of this so Taylor could be better equipped to kill Death Eaters?

That was a whole tangled mess I was still trying to work through.

Guilt that I was dragging her into my mess where she could get killed or worse.

Gratitude she wasn't holding me responsible for this shite and that she was willing to help.

A whole tangle of emotions I couldn't even pin down about the idea of fighting to kill instead of capture.

And the fact that I was now married to the most terrifying and confident girl I'd ever met…. That one might take another week to settle because I didn't even know where to begin on that.

"Hey, Harry… think there's any chance the whole marriage oath is tied to the rings?"

"I have no idea. Why?" And why do you suddenly look like you are plotting murder.

"Just thinking I could get through life just fine with nine fingers if it got us out of this marriage."

Well… it was something to ask about? Merlin damn it all, getting used to this girl was going to take a while.

 

[Fencer]

AN: I may need a plan because I do not want another long fic on my plate but uhhh this is starting to gain traction the way previous long fics did… look all I'm saying is maybe. If this hits five updates and it's still going strong, we'll talk. Honestly it sort of caught me off guard, because I was seriously thinking a few of the older snips might grab my attention next, but this is just… The difference in mentality between Taylor and either side of this fight is just laughable. Which does not mean Taylor can rofl stomp through all the death eaters, but she's used to being the underdog and it's made her vicious and underhanded where the DE's are cocky, and the Order just will not go for the throat. At least not until Dumbles is out of the equation and they realize they are on the losing side.

@Functionality not trying to snub or ignore you or anything by not sending these to you. Just figured you had enough on your plate at the moment, and when I started I honestly thought it would be just another one shot. Now I'm just running full sprint for as long as my muse is willing to play ball because I missed this.

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{}{}{}{} Taylor

Lopping off a couple fingers to get rid of the rings was apparently not the solution. The magic was tied to us, not the useless hunks of metal. Trying would just see the stupid ring jump to another finger until we ran out of digits. At which point you would end up with an incredibly thin choker.

Honestly the slave caller look might have been more honest if Harry had been in on it. Which he had not. I had to keep reminding myself. Too easy to just hate him because he's there, but he's in the same boat I am, and the easily activated magical bond agreed that he hadn't been trying to take advantage of me.

Now I just had to keep reminding myself until it sank in.

Much more productive to work on revenge plans for the crazy bitch and Nymphadora. Nymphadora would live, partly because she hadn't planned this and had caused it while drunk off her ass. Partly because if I was going to work with these people maiming one of them wasn't likely to win me any friends.

Finding the proper balance of revenge there was going to take some thought. Crazy bitch was apparently friends with Alexandria so murdering her for this insanity might not be great for my health. Sure, CB said I could kill Alexandria but my only plan for that could be stopped by a sealed helmet.

"Taylor?" Harry asked.

I hummed back as I focused on cleaning my new guns. It was something I was going to need to practice, because I'd only ever had the one pistol and these were not the same.

"Time to get going. Tonks and Remus want all this shrunk down before we pack it away. Just in case, no one in the ministry should care about muggle weapons, but they don't want to take chances."

I glanced over my collection of weapons and my new clothes and essentials which were mostly still in bags. There had been more than enough money left over from selling the rings to buy myself some clothes and enough magic money looted from the building to get a small, enchanted, duffle bag. Seriously, featherlight and expansion charms? I was going to have the best and most extensive bug out bag possible just as soon as I could figure out what magical things I could use that might be useful.

"Right…" I reassembled the shotgun I was working on as quickly as I could. Then danced through the piles, picking out a few things.

Wearing a gun into a government building sounded like a bad idea. Even if the government in question would likely laugh at the idea of a non magical weapon being dangerous. But I wasn't about to go unarmed either. Especially not if I wouldn't have the chance to stop and re-arm myself until later.

I stuck the thinnest of the knives I'd picked up, a Fairbairn–Sykes, into the front pocket of my new hoody. The collapsible baton went in one pocket and a can of pepper spray in the other. I finished off by strapping the punch daggers to my wrists where the sleaves would hide them. Probably not the best place for them but at least they wouldn't be visible.

Harry looked at me like he thought I was crazy but the idiot kept his only weapon, which was a relatively fragile piece of wood, in his pocket. I let that thought repeat for a few seconds, then I tossed him a can of pepper spray.

Harry sighed like a put upon adult dealing with an unruly child before chuckling and pocketing the can. I just rolled my eyes while my back was turned and started putting my new clothes into my bag. Nymphadora had a wand holster, and I was going to force Harry to buy one on pain of bugs in his food at the first chance.

"Are you sure we need to shrink the guns down?" I asked. "You won't be able to use magic once we're in the UK, right? I somehow doubt most people will be enthusiastic about helping me with my weapons."

Harry chewed that thought over as he started passing me things to pack away,

"I don't think they'll search your stuff. Especially not with your cover story. But I think it's better safe than sorry in this case. And I can probably convince the twins or Mister Weasley to unshrink them for you."

"…Fine."

I wouldn't be so worried about this if I could bring a decent swarm with me, but that just wasn't possible. And while I'd never had a problem calling up bugs on site so to speak, it still took a while for four blocks worth of insects to converge, and we had multiple teleports between us and safety. The best I could do was keep a few scorpions and spiders handy.

I'd actually collected twenty breeding pairs of black widows and with a little careful breeding I could hopefully have a proper colony large enough to remake my costume in a few months. If my power worked on the magic spiders though? Well, it would depend on how hard their silk was to work, but I might have a complete costume in days instead.

With the last of my new weapons shrunk and put away, I zipped up the bag and followed Harry to the suite's living room.

"Ah, good!" Remus said with false cheer. "Harry with Tonks, Taylor with me. We'll be side along appariting you, but we have to do this together or the bond… well it really wouldn't like you two trying to separate like that."

Nodding I took the proffered hand and Remus counted down.

"Three, two, one!"

Trickster's teleports were disorienting. This was nauseating. I stumbled away from Remus and only barely held onto my breakfast as I distracted my stomach with an exploration of the different swarm of insects now under my control. The building was much bigger on the inside, and the overlapping areas were… not giving me a headache, but they were definitely something I would need to get used to if this was normal for magic architecture.

Tonks had a quietly muttered conversation with someone who cast a bunch of spells on me and then winced. Tonks assured them that it was a drunken mistake on everyone's part. But they were getting me off of the streets, and really hoping Dumbledore might have some ideas to get me out of the marriage. She then very quietly mentioned that someone had let loose giant magic spiders near the school, and Hogwarts had been quietly looking for a solution for years, so this really might work out great all around.

The whole time I just scowled at anyone who looked at me playing up the furious teenager I hadn't really let myself be since getting dropped here. It didn't help anything, but in a weird way it also felt better to be open about how I felt about nearly all of this.

Bullshitting out of the magical US? Surprisingly easy.

We caught a portkey, which was worse than apparition, to England not even thirty minutes after we arrived.

Bullshitting into magical England as the bride of a national celebrity? Much harder. Nymphadora only got ten words out before the shouting started. Ten minutes after that Harry and I were jammed in an interrogation room together. Nymphadora had managed to convey that we couldn't be separated, but not how far we could get. So, shared interrogation room. With easily about fifty people listening in from the other side of a stone wall, which was clear from the outside, and conveyed sound. Because magic. I really needed to research just what kind of extra features I could include in my new costume with the help of some enchanting. Maybe look into materials other than chitin for the armored bits.

{}{}{}{} Harry

Taylor was acting again, but it wasn't like when she was selling off the rings. For that she had acted overconfident. Now she was acting angry and apathetic. Which was weird because apathy shouldn't mix with anything else, but she made it work.

"So, your name is Taylor Hebert?" The auror asking the question was a sturdy looking black man who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"That's what I called myself." Taylor huffed. "Now it'd be Taylor Potter. Doesn't have much of a ring to it, but then again that's hardly my biggest complaint about this clusterfuck."

Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed.

"When you say that's what you called yourself…"

"I mean that literally." Taylor shrugged. "Search the world, you won't find any paperwork tied to that name unless there's another face to go along with it."

"You've been living under a false identity?"

"Not much choice. Parents disowned me. Even pulled something special out of the back of the family grimoire as a going away present." Taylor smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Couldn't even let me keep my own name." Her eyes briefly darted to me, and I realized with a small pang that was one more nugget of truth she was slipping into her lie. Thanks to the bloody marriage. She really couldn't even keep her old name. Not all of it.

Shacklebolt stiffened.

"Your family wouldn't happen to have sold your name to the fey, would they? There hasn't been a confirmed sighting in-"

Taylor waved him off with a disgusted huff.

"I told you already, they pulled it out of an old family grimoire. No, they haven't had contact with the fey in… hell, I think it was seven generations? Just a spell they were given as payment for services rendered a long, long time ago."

Shacklebolt relaxed.

"And why did they decide to disown you? I'm sorry if that's an invasive question but-"

Taylor waved him off again with another disgusted huff.

"I get it, I get it. Mysterious girl with no past marries a national celebrity out of nowhere. Questions have to be asked because I might be up to something nefarious with the poor boy, beguiled by his hormones as he is."

I only barely swallowed a laugh at Taylor's disgusted tone of voice which I was sure she wasn't faking.

"Never mind the fact we're both underaged and shouldn't even have been allowed to marry. Believe me, I am in no way thrilled about this."

"I'm sure we can come back to that point in a minute but first, your parents?"

"Right, right. The petty, vindictive, genetic donors. So, they made some enemies, which was fine. They could mostly handle themselves. Only they got too full of themselves and they pissed off a spell crafter, and he got really creative. He whipped up a curse, just for me, so I'd be an embarrassment to the family name."

Taylor held one hand over the table and made a repetitive sweeping motion I knew she didn't need. One fly, two mosquitoes and a cockroach all began to fly around the table. Then as Taylor made the motions smaller and smaller the wobbly uneven circle grew tighter and tighter until finally the cockroach drunkenly crashed into the fly and both seemingly snapped out of it and took off.

Taylor huffed. Waved her hand and the mosquitoes went back to acting like normal insects. Then she did jazz hands at the auror.

"Tada." She deadpanned. "Mother and Father just couldn't live with the shame of their daughter having all her magic twisted into some funky compulsion spell for creepy crawlies. They disowned me, then dumped me in Vegas with no name, no paperwork, and no way to get any. I managed to make ends meet by playing exterminator for the no-maj's. Wasn't glamorous, but I was getting by."

"So, what happened? How did you and Mister Potter get married?"

Taylor looked at the man like she thought he might be mentally challenged.

"It's Vegas, and I'm underaged, which means I can get drinks without any trouble if I avoid the places that cater to rich tourists, and go somewhere desperate for every dime they can get. I finished a job, didn't get stiffed on my pay, and the anniversary of my emancipation was coming up. I decided to get drunk for a night and forget everything."

She hiked her thumb at me.

"Then I wander out of the bar and meet this idiot nursing a bottle of rum on his own. We split what was left of the bottle, and I woke up the next day with a shiny new accessory and a small mountain of bullshit waiting for me in the soon to be warzone you call a country. All because the stupid whore with the thing for older men tracked us down and browbeat a couple drunken teenagers into making it a double wedding!" Taylor snarled that last bit.

Shacklebolt winced, probably in sympathy but maybe a little bit of fear. A little too much of the real Taylor slipped out there.

"Mister Potter, is that accurate?"

"Think you'll have to take her word on her life story, sir. But if you mean how we met? Pretty much. Tonks, sorry, Mrs. Lupin insisted I needed a vacation. She roped in Remus because he knew my parents and looks out for me when he can. She apparently arranged the ceremony in advance. I felt really out of place in the dance club so I got a bottle of rum and went for a walk. Taylor wandered by looking ready to fall over and sat at the other end of the bench I was sitting on. We talked for a bit and then..."

I shook my head.

"Nothing, no memories past that point. Remus actually remembered though. He and Tonks followed the tracking charm on my bracelet. Dragged us along to be witnesses. Then Mrs. Lupin began to insist on a double wedding and we were all drunk enough to go along with it."

Shacklebolt nodded.

"Well, I'm sorry you both ended up in this situation. But it seems like everything is as in order as it can be given your background, Mrs. Potter. We'll likely spend a bit of time trying to verify your history, but given what you've said… I'm assuming your work was all done under the table? No tax records?"

"Had to be." Taylor shrugged.

"Right. Like I said we'll likely spend a bit of effort trying to verify your story, but given your situation I doubt we'll find anything. I'd expect an owl sometime soon with citizenship paperwork for you. Welcome to Britain."

Taylor sighed, nodded and stood with the auror.

"Great if you'll excuse us, I'd like to get behind the strongest walls and wards I can find before my husband's fan club can catch wind of this and organize an assassination attempt."

Shacklebolt nodded and herded us out of the room in time to catch an older woman with a monocle glaring at a very much cowed Mrs. Lupin, and a crowd of gawkers all staring at Taylor and I.

Taylor glared at the crowd and stormed through to start shoving Mrs. Lupin by the shoulders.

"Come on, Nymphadora." Taylor stressed the hated first name. "You swore you knew a place hubby," she snarled the normally affectionate term, "and I would be safe from crazy terrorists and his rabid fan club. If I have to sit here and get gawked at for being a freak one minute more, I'm going to start feeding you spiders."

Tonks yelped.

"Ok, ok, please no spiders! Can't take the floo, that'd separate you kids. We'll apparate from the lobby."

Remus sidled up next to me and squeezed my shoulder.

"Wonderful we have a plan, now hurry up and lead the way. The sooner we're out of here the better. Then you can go back to calling Remus daddy."

Tonks face turned fire engine red and she spluttered incoherently as she lead us through the ministry.

 

[Fencer]

Alright thread's up. Take any further discussion here.

Vegas Vacation

 

[Fencer]

AN: More of that Worm KHR Fusion which has been officially named Creme Brûlée by reader suggestion. Thanks go out ot my beta reader @Functionality.

---

{}{}{}{} Taylor

My eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling, a pressure in my bladder, and an empty chasm in my stomach.

For an instant Dad's death replayed itself behind my eyes. With everything I had I wrenched my thoughts away and went looking for a bathroom. I couldn't let myself think about that now. If I did I would breakdown… and I wasn't really sure I'd be able to put myself back together if that happened.

I had no one, and nothing. The world was full of people who used crazy fire magic and I was one of them. Nothing made sense and if I let myself stop moving…

I was hungry, starving. I really needed to eat.

Wandering down the hall I found a kitchen. It wasn't fully stocked, but there were a bunch of essentials so…

I guess I would cook. Yes, I'd cook enough to fill myself up and more for the girls that let me sleep in their guest room, as a thank you.

{}{}{}{} Aisha

Our crummy hideout at its best might smell like pizza and sweat. So, waking up to the smell off eggs and… was that hot dog, or sausage I was smelling? But more than that there were flames in the air. Sky Flames, calling out, inviting me closer. Making the dump we lived in feel warm, and safe.

Wandering down the hall and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I was greeted with the sight of Taylor working over the stove. Orange flames seemed to drip off her hands and over the pan and food.

"The hell?"

What was she doing burning Flames like that right after waking up from a two day crash? Did she want to send herself right back to sleep?

"Yo, Tay."

The girl turned to look at me with black eyes flecked with orange. She wasn't going full burn right now. That's good, but she really needed to stop throwing Flames like that or she was going to kill herself.

"Girl you gotta stop using your Flames. You were out for two day's last time. If you don't get them under control you're going right back to dreamland. That ain't healthy."

Tay looked down at her hands and then back at me before turning back to the cooking with almost frantic movements.

"I, I don't know if I can stop… If I stop, I'm going to remember, if I remember I'm going to fall apart. I have to keep it together. I can't-"

Aaaah, shit.

Walking over I turned off the burner and pried the pan out of her hands. She tried to argue, but I just pushed her away from the stove before giving the taller girl a hug. For a minute she just sort of trembled in place. Then she gripped me for dear life and started bawling her eyes out. She was still leaking a little bit of Sky Flame, but it was a lot less.

Maybe Sky's just always leak a little Flame? Or maybe that's just Sky's that don't have guardians… fuck it, ask Lisa later. Comfort Sky now.

{}{}{}{}

Lisa had wandered in a few minutes after Tay started crying, helped me get her to eat, and then we put her back to bed to rest some more.

Now? Now the two of us were eating the leftovers and trying not to moan like hookers.

"This doesn't even make sense! It's eggs, diced up hotdogs, and toast. It shouldn't taste this good!" I said before stuffing another bite in my mouth.

"You said she was using her Flames?" Lisa asked between bites.

"Yeah, but why would that matter?"

"Harmony, Aisha. At a guess she made the flavors work together better."

"… It tastes like home." I muttered. "Like, it's nothing like my Mom's shit cooking, but it makes me feel like when I was little and Brian made coco or…" Well, that was the only example that really came to mind.

"… Sky Flames... Harmony. There's a reason everyone wants to find a Sky to bond with." Lisa shot a look toward the spare bedroom.

"And this isn't even a bond. This is just a bit of her Flames." I said before savoring another bite. "Think we could sell this to the gangs? If I had money, I'd pay out the ass for this."

Lisa gave me a look.

"Why are you thinking about money when we have a chance to bond with a Sky?" She hissed.

"I'm sorry, weren't you the one insisting we not get our hopes up? Something, something, bonding with a Sky's a pipe dream? And don't we need a whole bunch of money to skip town?"

"Ok, yes, I said all that, and it's still true, but that was before I knew the Sky was our age! And, you know, not affiliated with anyone that might want to kill us!" Lisa waved her fork in the air. "We might actually have a shot at Harmony if there aren't any major personality clashes."

"And if we can make a small fortune and skip town, we can work on that somewhere safer?" I half asked and half pointed out.

"I mean, ideally yeah. But if we try to sell Sky Flame enhanced food every Flame active in the city is going to find us, including the snake. And the only ones I'd trust not to fight us on principle are the mercenaries, and they're out of town on a job anyway."

Ok point. It was a good idea, just not one we could act on right now without a whole mess of trouble landing on us.

"Yo, is Sky girl awake?" Alec asked as he wandered into the room.

"Not anymore, she was up long enough to make some food and eat, then she passed out again." Lisa answered.

Alec wilted. Not much, but I'd known him long enough to catch it. Honestly between his Dad doing a number on him, and the whole Rain tranquility thing he was legit the most apathetic fucker I'd ever met. Pretty cool, yeah, but did not give a shit about anything. The Sky getting that much of a reaction out of him was huge.

Glancing down at my plate, I considered how full I felt, then I sighed and handed him what was left. The sacrifices I make for my friends. Never mind that I felt stuffed. I wanted more of that feeling.

Alec raised an eyebrow but accepted the plate. He practically melted with the first bite.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asked.

"Yep, Sky Flame infused food." Lisa answered.

"Holy fuck, we need to keep her." Alec said before digging into what little was left.

"The hell are you all doing up?" Brain asked as he staggered in after Alec. "It's five thirty. Normally I can't get any of you up before ten."

"Taylor woke up. Turns out Sky cooking is better than crack even with garbage ingredients." I answered.

"You save me any?" Brian asked looking curious.

Alec shoveled the last bit into his mouth and shook his head. Brian glared. Lisa laughed and slid her plate across the table.

"Here, Brian. It's just a couple bites but…"

Not being an idiot Brian jumped on it before Alec could try to claim it.

"Damn." Brian muttered after he finished. "Kind of glad Bitch decided to spend the night at her shelter. She'd have insisted on giving some to her dogs."

"Ok, this is awesome and I'm as hopeful as the rest of you, but we need a plan." Lisa said as she rubbed her hands together. "Yes, we found a Sky and there's a chance at least some of us might bond with her."

Lisa licked her lips. Not in a sexy way. It was a nervous 'god please just once let me be that lucky' sort of thing.

"But we still need enough cash to get out of town and someplace to go once we have it."

Brian tapped a hand against his thigh then spoke up.

"What if we've been overthinking this? We've been focusing on finding a place to settle, but every city you've gotten info on is claimed or contested, and isn't too friendly with outsiders. So, what if we don't go to a city?"

"Uh, Bro? Don't know if you've been paying attention or not, but we do smash and grabs, sneaky info stealing shit, burglaries, and pickpocketing. Most of that works best in a city because it gives us lots of targets."

"And it makes squatting in dumps like this simpler." Alec added.

"Yeah, I know. Just bear with me for a second. If we ride the dogs or steal a van we could be out of the city and into a town on the other half of the state in a day or two. Find a warehouse, or a cave, or a fucking barn. Doesn't really matter what, just something out of the way. We steal enough food to last a few months and see how things shake out with the girl, then go from there."

No one really said anything. It was an option. Not one anyone liked, but it would keep us alive if nothing else. No one really said anything one way or another. We all just sort of mumbled or grumbled.

"Look, just, just think about it." Brain said before glaring at his now empty plate.

{}{}{}{} three hours later

"And now bringing you the latest news from the Brockton Bay crime report." The radio blared. "Lower east side played host to one of the strangest fights I've reported on in quite some time folks. Nine men armed with military hardware were mauled to death by dogs. On the other side of this fight more than twenty dogs, and one teenage girl, were killed by an absurd amount of automatic rifle fire. Witnesses report at least ten more men with guns fleeing the scene. So far police have, wait for it, no suspects, and no idea what motivated this craziness. So, business as usual from Brockton Bay's finest folks. And now your five day weath-"

Lisa reached out and shut off the radio with trembling fingers.

"You guys, pack whatever you can. Aisha, can you please pack my clothes while I go steal a van?" She said quietly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll pack for you. Brian, you ever pick out a destination?" I tried to keep it steady, but my voice was shaking.

"No, I only had the idea last night. We can figure it out once we get the hell out of the city."

No one disagreed. This was officially too hot for us. The cranky Cloud girl had been a real bitch, but she had been part of the gang, and now… Fuck. Now we had to make sure we didn't go out the same way.

 

[Fencer]

AN: you know I think this is the first time I've written a post GM snippet, also my first Welcome to Night Vale snippet. Thanks as always go out to Functionality for betaing my work, especially given this is not a fandom he's familiar with. Also, a big thanks to Sylent-M for introducing me to today's weather.

---

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9f2C0SOdqg

"The golden light of the second shattered dawn has faded, and we are all still here. Welcome, to Night Vale."

"Hello, listeners. The town prophet fell down today, and screamed a prophecy of a nascent goddess. One who is not an angel, which do not exist, and is not a demon, or a glowing cloud, or a monolith of imperceptible material and origins. She is a praying mantis, her size is beyond comprehension as she straddles the borders of many dimensions. Her chitin is a dark gray and speckled with lighter grays and black. Her claws are obsidian, and radiate a beautiful black light. Her face is adorned with nine golden eyes and she wears a crown of ever shifting, golden, fractal crystals. She has come to our home in search of the one she calls, [HOST]."

The speaking stopped, replaced by desperate coughing.

"Apologies, listeners. Properly conveying the thoughts of gods and outer dimensional beings is really hard on the throat. The nascent goddess has declared her name to be [QUEEN ADMINISTRATOR]."

The sound of hacking coughs fills the airwaves again.

"Oh my. I think I'll have to leave off all the connotations and subtext from now on, listeners. Clearly, I've been lax on my throat exercises for speaking higher being intentions from a three dimensional vessel. To be fair, I haven't needed those exercises since I earned my; prophet of the deity's badge. While the deities were impressed by my ability to interpret and relay their intentions, they decided to go with a girl scout prophet, because young female prophets were in vogue at the time."

The radio broadcasts the sound of a throat clearing and a deep breath being taken.

"Queen Administrator explained that she and her Host had been separated by the actions of one she described as, the broken autopilot of a cheating hack with no creativity or productive data creation ability. The last had strong connotations of being a dire insult, listeners."

"When asked for a description of this missing Host, Queen Administrator gave the following description. A warrior of great skill who could face their enemies head on, or disappear and attack from the shadows even on a sunny day on a clear and level field. Who can inflict terror and paranoia by the mere suggestion that they might be nearby. A peerless General who led teams against empowered mortals, and the Engines of Destruction. Who commanded the army which killed Queen Administrator's progenitor, thus saving worlds beyond counting from destruction, and freeing Queen Administrator to ascend beyond her station. Their enemies cower in fear. Their ally's loyalty is repaid in kind. For they care and are kind to those who are deserving. They bring new data to the Queen, never resting, never settling, always pushing to do and be more."

"Or, well, that's the best I can explain without hurting my throat. The simplest translation would be, Best Host. But that lacks a great deal of nuance, wouldn't you agree? Of course, while that is a ringing endorsement of Hosts capabilities and achievements, it is rather lacking in a physical description by which this peerless general might be identified. When asked for a physical description, Queen Administrator became confused. Eventually the nascent goddess offered that Host prided themself on their magnificent hair."

"I immediately thought of Carlos and wondered if perhaps he'd had a more exciting life prior to becoming a scientist. However, Carlos denied it, and Queen Administrator was quick to agree. She agreed that Carlos has magnificent hair, but Host has far more hair than Carlos."

"Queen Administrator said that human descriptors were very hard for her to grasp, but she would try to parse them and give us a description of her Host. In the meantime, be on the lookout for a peerless warrior and general, with a great deal of well cared for hair."

"In unrelated news, a teenage girl was discovered on Old Woman Josie's back porch. The girl looked a frightful mess. She was missing an arm, and her hair was a snarled mess, matted with dust and fresh blood from two gunshot wounds to the back of her head. She was also wearing a strange silk outfit."

"Old Woman Josie declared she believed the teen had been hurt while trying to escape from some kind of horrific sex trafficking ring. Because why else would a young woman be mutilated and shot while wearing a scandalously tight silk outfit? However, Josie wasn't sure how the girl would have made it to her back porch with two grievous head wounds, and insists the girl couldn't have been shot on her porch as she would have heard the gunshots."

"She further reported that the young woman's appearance sent her ang- ah that is to say, her friends who are winged beings, which are in no way angels, into a frenzy. They circled the young woman and made sounds like wind chimes to one another before joining hands and forming a circle around the girl. A white light descended from the heavens and shown upon the girl for what Josie estimated to be three or four minutes. Old Woman Josie described it as annoyingly bright, and said her friends, who this station does not acknowledge as angels, were showboating needlessly. When the light faded the young woman was fully healed. She took one look at Josie's winged friends, paled, and bolted towards town."

"Josie thought the young woman was being ungrateful, but her winged friends assured her the teen was just understandably concerned about a certain unfortunate resemblance."

"The secret police are understandably very concerned about the possibility of a violent sex trafficking ring setting up anywhere near, or heaven forbid, in Night Vale. There is no warrant for the young woman's arrest, as she is assumed to be a victim in all this, and her apparent fear of winged beings shows good sense. They do however wish to take her into protective custody, and find out whatever she knows about this possible human trafficking so that they can shut it down with extreme prejudice, and gratuitous violence. We here at the station offer our loyal protectors our full support in stomping out such heinous criminal activity, and encourage all citizens to call in any information about the now missing teen, or the criminals responsible for her previous condition."

"In lighter news, residents of Night Vale have been calling in all day to report the man in the tan jacket has been seen racing back and forth across the town with an open and empty deerskin suitcase, as he attempts to capture a large cloud of flies. Much to the amusement of onlookers, the flies have taken to hovering above the man's head, just out of reach."

"I have to admit, listeners, this is a serious blow to the man in the tan jacket's reputation. After all, what kind of fly salesmen fails to properly train their flies?"

"Now it's time once again, listeners! That's right, time for another children's fun fact science corner. Today's topic is scorpions! Seeing as we do live in a desert, it seems prudent to introduce our town's children to the wonders, and dangers, of some of our more common local fauna. Scorpions have eight legs, two pincers, and a venomous stinger. Just like spiders they are fully capable of climbing up walls and on ceilings, so they can drop down and surprise you at any time. Isn't nature amazing?"

"Breeds of scorpion common to our area are; striped bark scorpions, liver shredding scorpions, flying scorpions, miniature hell scorpions which reach six feet in length, Arizona bark scorpions, and the giant heavenly scorpions which reach six inches in length and have tiny glowing halos."

"I remember when I was young, we used to go out with hockey sticks, and swat scorpions at one another. Oh, playing dodge the stinger with the gang was always good for lough. Or, it was anyway. Until Jerry died. He never was very good at dodging, and after the fifth sting from a particularly large liver shredding scorpion, well… Anyway, remember kids, scorpions are highly venomous, and they can kill you, so don't go poking your fingers at something that can poke back with venom."

"This has been, children's fun fact science corner."

"We've received word, via the town prophet, Queen Administrator wishes it to be known that, after extensive review, she has pieced together another one of her host's physical traits. Her host is female. She also wishes it to be known that while she continues to search on her own, she greatly appreciates our help in this matter as, without a direct connection, telling humans apart is frustratingly difficult for her. So, be on the lookout for a female warrior of great skill, with long wonderfully maintained hair."

"This just in listeners, we've had our first confirmed sighting of the young woman who was miraculously healed by Old Woman Josie's, winged friends. Big Rico, owner of Big Rico's Pizza, met the young woman briefly after she made it into town. He says she stopped by and asked for a change of clothes, and a chance to clean the blood and dust off in his bathroom. Big Rico gave her an old tan sweatshirt and let her clean up. Big Rico declared that she seemed to be a delightful young woman with her head on straight, and has a real go getter attitude. He expressed his sincere hope that she would be staying in town as he'd like to introduce her to his youngest son, or his daughter."

"When asked why he didn't insist she stay and meet with representatives of the Sheriff's Secret Police, Big Rico only responded that Taylor, the young woman's apparent name, has a healthy sense of paranoia, and that she slipped out the back. More on this story as it develops."

"Today's traffic report is an odd one, listeners. We've seen mass coordinated movements of every insect in town for going on three hours now. This strange insect movement even includes the spiders which tend to hide somewhere on your body. Town arachnophobes are taking advantage of the situation by putting out a bounty on all spiders, and scorpions. However, given the incredible numbers of insects moving through town the bounty is set incredibly low per individual, although larger species such as Tarantulas, are worth extra. So, if you have some fumigators equipment and a wagon to haul around spider corpses, this might be a chance to make some quick money, listeners."

"The city council reached out to insect experts for more information. The experts could offer, no clues. The city council responded to this lack of information with court ordered beatings, until the town prophet informed them the insects are under control of Queen Administrator and are attempting to locate her Host. Further, Queen Administrator lamented that searching would be much easier if she started using mammals again, but that she wouldn't, because Host found that upsetting the last time."

"If you have a crippling fear of insects, or spiders, today might be a good day to stay home with a pallet of insecticide. Otherwise, traffic is clear all across town and you should be able to make great time wherever you might be going! Just don't skimp on the windshield washer fluid, alright listeners? This has been, traffic."

"Another helpful hint from our visiting godling, Queen Administrator. Her host is naturally for a warrior, quite fit. Though she is apparently not the muscular Amazonian figure I had been picturing, and is instead graced with a runner's build. Listeners, I have to admit I feel pretty silly for making that sort of assumption now. Clearly a mortal backed by an otherworldly force such as Queen Administrator wouldn't need to rely on base muscular strength in battle. It feels so obvious now."

"So, if you want this frightfully organized insect swarm to lift, be on the lookout for a woman with long, well maintained hair, and a runner's build who is also a fearsome warrior and accomplished tactician… you know I wonder if she means Tamika Fylnn. Her hair isn't as well kept as Carlos's hair. But it is certainly voluminous. And her victories against the Librarians, and her contribution to the battle to free Night Vale, are very impressive displays of skill. I don't think Tamika has ever mentioned being the Host of an ascending godling before. I should probably send our new intern to investigate this possibility."

"Hey, Marty! I need you to go out and ask Tamika Flynn if she's ever been the Host of an insect themed goddess. Or if maybe one of the lieutenants in her child militia fits the description?"

…

"No, I get why you would rather just call her and ask, but her mother won't let her have a cell phone until she enters high school, and I'm pretty sure her militia were planning to run drills on the outskirts of town today."

…

"Yes, Marty, I'm aware of the swarms of micromanaged insects sweeping the city, but it's not like they are going to bite you, they're all being controlled by Queen Administrator. We haven't received even one report of people being bit or stung."

…

"Look, it's not like the bugs aren't also sweeping the studio, Marty! They do a sweep every five minutes! You can even take the studio van, just get out there and ask Tamika a simple question."

…

"Yes, yes, we all appreciate you taking one for the team, now get going!"

"Well, now that that's sorted, let's take a minute to talk about today's sponsor. Today's sponsor is Raid!"

"Faced with silence you cannot trust? With shadows you cannot pear into? Nooks and crannies that no matter how you may try, defy your sight and instill paranoia? Is there a buzzing or a hum that sets your teeth on edge? A never ending fear of what you cannot see in the dark, but know could be lurking everywhere? Do glossy black shells and tiny delicate legs cause your stomach to rebel against you?"

"Or maybe you are blessed and know exactly where your enemy resides? Can you see their bastions? Their communities, their fortress's, their hives? Do they openly taunt you with their presences mocking your perceived control of your domain?"

"We understand. We feel the same. And we have prepared for this day. You have prepared for this day. Rise up and reclaim the sanctity of your home! Rise up and cast out the invaders! Rise up and bring death to all the unholy spawn of Beelzebub! Raid! Kill the tiny interlopers where they scurry!"

"A few sharp eyed citizens who have been peeking out of their windows have called in to report Taylor's progress as she moves through the city seemingly unconcerned with roving bands of insects. Listeners, given the reports I must say this young lady is fearless. Not only does her lack of concern for all thing chitinous and creeping show her to be unshakable, but she willingly stared down one of the hooded figures!"

"Yes, you heard that right, listeners! The mysterious hooded figure who occasionally takes small children, the one that we all see doing so, but for reason we cannot explain simply allow it to happen? That hooded figure was in the process of abducting six month old Jeremy Carlson, when Taylor stepped into the hooded figure's way and threatened him or her with a strange knife that radiated a grey mist. The hooded figure was so shocked that someone was actually interfering with their abducting of a child that they became flustered, returned Jeremy to his mother's arms, and ran off!"

"We here at Night Vale community radio are naturally happy for young Jeremy and his family, of course. However, we are… concerned, about the possible repercussions that might arise from this unprecedented stand against the mysterious hooded figures. More on this story, as it develops."

"Oh, listeners, we've just heard back from intern Marty. Sad to say we have found only another dead end. Ah, no not like that. Marty is fine. The dead end is that Tamika has never been the Host of an ascending goddess before, nor have any members of her child militia. Darn, I really thought that it would be her listeners. I suppose Mayor Dana Cardinal technically led an Army in the battle to free Night Vale. However, her role was more that of recruiting them, or rallying them. She wasn't exactly directing anyone in battle."

"I just don't know who else it could be, listeners."

"Oh…. Oh dear. Ah, I've just received an unfortunate report from the Sheriff's secret police. It seems the man in the tan jacket who has been chasing his flies all across town chased them across the road. The same road on which intern Marty was driving the station van. Marty swerved to avoid the man in the tan jacket, and hit a telephone pole. Given that he was only going twenty five miles an hour this should have been a relatively minor accident. Unfortunately, it seems station management replaced the air bags with telescoping spikes… again. To the family and friends of intern Marty, he will be missed."

"I," the speaker sighs, "honestly listeners, I should have seen this coming. Station management does this every three months like clockwork. We've asked them to stop, but they just start screeching from behind their office door, and then the sinks all start leaking something yellow that smells like rutabaga, and fermented ginger. So, we've just resigned ourselves to taking it in for repairs every three months instead, but then we've had insect swarms all day, and we all must have just forgotten to double check the van. Really need to try explaining to management again that the airbags are there for a reason."

"Anyway, listeners, the town prophet has reached out with two more hints from Queen Administrator. Apparently before they were separated Host was seriously injured. Host was also apparently wearing a knife proof and bullet resistant outfit made of… spider silk… Huh. That, listeners, do you think? Could it really be? Well… I think I need to go make a few calls. Ah, but first, let me just leave you, with the weather."


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejt7clgYv2o

"Listeners, for those of you who have spent the day cowering in your homes hiding from the insect swarms, allow me to tell you of the sight you have missed."

"Queen Administrator's massive visage blotted out the Western horizon, all nine of her golden eyes fixed on our little town, and the insects under her control gathered forming a loose circle around her missing Host, around Taylor. Taylor who was evidently not the victim of a horrific sex trafficking ring and was instead the badly injured victor of a war beyond our comprehension, and wearing spider silk, because as Carlos has informed me, it's an incredibly strong material and absolutely knife proof."

"Taylor looked upon the insect swarms without a hint of fear and faced Queen Administrator with flinty eyed determination. Neither spoke as Queen Administrator slowly lowered one of her black light radiating, obsidian claws. Gently Queen Administrator touched the tip of her bladed limb to Taylor's forehead, and for a moment the entire town held its breath. No one moved. Even the insects stopped, anything held aloft by wings actually falling to the ground."

"Well, I'm certain you all heard what happened next. Queen Administrator spoke, declaring her connection to her Host to all of Night Vale. Then like the mirage of a blinking red light atop a mountain, Queen Administrator faded from our sight. Her host bowed her head for a moment as silence reigned over the town. Then, cacophony. Every insect moved in a tsunami of wings and chitin. Taylor was obscured from our sight as the insects of Night Vale dispersed back to whatever unknowable hiding spots they usually frequent. And as they vanished, so did Taylor."

"Perhaps Taylor and Queen Administrator will move on now that they have been reunited. Perhaps they will remain here in Night Vale. I cannot say for certain. I cannot even offer an educated guess knowing so little of their pasts, and motives. But if they do remain, and if they are listening, then I would say welcome. Welcome to Night Vale, welcome to our friendly desert community."

"Oh, listeners, it looks like we're out of time today. Stay tuned next for six hours of the sound of rain on a tin roof, broken only by the intermittent screams of small animals being killed by wolves."

"Good night, Night Vale, good night."

 

[Fencer]

Playing around with crossovers for two of my all time favorite series. Honestly, I started with the premise of crazy wizards try to summon powers from beyond their world and grab onto shards which ends up bringing the capes attached to the shard. Picked a moment I liked and ran with it. But the farther along I got the more I realized I was forcing it to work. It's plausible, but it feels unwieldy. It seemed fine when I thought about it in vague details, but the more I wrote, the more I slipped into character… I don't know anymore. Still, I wrote it, and I have a snippet thread for a reason so here we go.

As always, thank Functionality for betaing my random ass snippets from nowhere I keep telling him he doesn't need to but he keeps agreeing anyway..

---

The Chronicles of the Black Company x Worm

An excerpt from the annals of the black company; the book of Croaker

In days past the rebel circle of eighteen commanded by right of sorcerous power, but that didn't mean they were the rebel's only sorcerers. Just that they were some combination of the strongest, best tacticians, and most connected. Most just laid claim to the first of those three qualifications, but after years of fighting all were at least passable commanders. It also didn't mean the rest of the rebel sorcerers were happy with that state of affairs.

The rebel was only slightly less prone to infighting, politicking and backstabbing then the Taken are, a low bar to be sure.

For that alone hearing that a group had tried to prove their chops and move up was hardly surprising. The fact it went horribly wrong and blew up in their faces was amusing and a little odd. Wizards are as a rule a paranoid and cautious lot, overreaching like that only occurred when their egos outgrew their paranoia. Not common, but not unheard of either. Often those are the stories that end with the greatest amount of collateral damage. The Lady and her sorcerous enforcers, the Ten who were Taken, being freed is a prime example. They had been buried for generations, until one man ambitious enough to go looking for lost knowledge made the mistake of failing to properly chain Lady to his will. That had seen the rise of Lady's Empire and all the suffering which came with it. An Empire which should continue to function on inertia even though Lady's sorcerous power is now gone and she is abandoning her role in it.

But I digress; in that case the rebel had tried some sort of summoning with the intent of sicking their conjured evil on the Lady's forces. According to the rumors they succeeded, and wherever they pulled from decided to throw a dozen extras after the first.

Rumors claimed some nasty big monster poured out first and spat out twisted humans that blasted away with a whole host of magical mayhem. That caught everyone so off guard they failed to bind the damn thing and it went on a killing spree that threw the whole rebel line into chaos. Then while everyone was busy, a host of strangeness followed in the first monster's wake. And all the conjured nasties took to fighting one another and anyone that took a swing at them.

The Hanged Man and Stormcaller, two of the Taken, sat back and let chaos reign for a time before stepping in to mop up the rebels and put down the conjured nasties. Only to find a good chunk of the crazies were human, speaking languages unknown, and all slinging their own brand of magic.

The Taken being none too subtle, and even less polite, decided to draft the survivors for the Lady.

The resulting fight wrecked Stormcaller's flying carpet, cost the Hanged Man a foot, and caused the death of all but one of the summoned sorcerers. The lone survivor was a girl, supposedly in her mid teens. Poor kid was shipped to the Lady that very night.

Would that I had recorded more details when the incident was fresh in my mind and the rumors less distorted. But the incident occurred on a different front, and meant little and less to us at the time. Then it faded into memory and we forgot. Forgot and heard nothing more of it right until the battle at Charm. After the dead had piled up, and the flies were given free rein to multiply in the freshly deceased. When the first line of our defense was set to break, everything that crawled or buzzed rose up in a wave and started trying to drown the rebels with their bodies. Only lasted as long as it took some of the surviving Circle to whip up a spell to kill the lot dead, but it had bought us an hour.

Only at the time we assumed it was one of the Taken playing a new trick. No one made the connection. Not until a year later when rumors of the Lady's knife in the dark started to spread. That was the first any of us heard the name Skitter. But it wasn't the last. Not by a long shot. That girl got around, and wherever she went the rebel died. Sometimes it was precise, all the leaders died before Lady's troops swarmed in to scoop up the spearman. Other times a town would wake up and every rebel in the city or town was dead. Killed by venom, or drowned in bugs, or strung up to hang on cords of spider silk.

And every time, without fail, no one managed to get so much as a glimpse of the girl.

One girl all on her lonesome outdoing us at our own game. Damn but if it didn't sting at first, and once we'd grown used to being outdone? Damn me but we wanted to buy the girl drinks until she told us how the hell she managed it. One Eye and Goblin were particularly vocal on both counts. The pride of our tame wizards is easily pricked, and their curiosity for a good trick to plagiarize only slightly less easily peaked.

When the Company betrayed the Lady and joined the rebel, under the command of Darling, we never saw her. Lady kept Skitter busy rooting out our eyes and ears throughout the Empire.

Neither did Skitter appear for the final battle against Lady's late and unlamented husband, the Dominator. I do remember asking Lady about that. Her response was that the young woman wouldn't make it in time and that her skills, while impressive, would be of little use.

That had been the last I'd thought of the young woman. Something which left me much chagrined when on the day of our departure from Opal a tall young woman with silky black hair, a lithe figure, and a harsh expression seemingly carved from stone stepped out of a shadow to lay a long dagger, black as pitch and clearly an object of at least some power, against Lady's neck. She wore black leather armor over gray silk clothes, and all under an unassuming gray cloak. From her person a swarm of insects rose. Hornets spread out in a wave until every man aboard was staring down at least a double handful of stingers. Spiders I recognized as being potentially lethal crawled across her arms and every manor of winged nuisance known to this part of the world swirled across the ships deck like a living cloud of malice.

Lady, for the first time since before the battle at the Barrowland, seemed afraid. Despite the not insubstantial amount of steel, we had on our side the living plague was giving us all pause.

"Skitter." Lady's voice was unsteady, and she spoke only loud enough to be heard over the swarm, and then only by those of us who were already close.

The ship's Captain and those guards Lady brought with her all had hands on steel, but blanched at the name.

"I should slit your throat and feed your corpse to the crabs." The young woman said, never taking her eyes off of Lady despite the many folks, myself included, that were sizing her up for a blade through the ribs.

"I-" Lady started to speak but fell silent as Skitter pushed the blade ever so slightly forward, dimpling, but not breaking, skin.

"You are a tyrant who, when presented with a teenage girl possessed of a unique ability, chose to bind me to your will and have me murder hundreds for the crime of rebellion when you and your nation mean nothing to me." Anger, sharp as steel, backed her every word.

"I know your nature. I know that letting you breathe is most likely a mistake someone will live to regret." The pressure of the blade eased and the flat caressed her neck as it slid forward and back an inch or so, right over the artery. "One stroke, and I'd be over the side before anyone could stop me. A day and I'd be out of the city. A week and I could disappear." She sounded wistful.

"So why aren't you?" I surprised myself by asking.

The young woman smirked and finally turned her face away from Lady to look at me.

"Because, Captain, I am known to those sorcerers that remain. None of them are as strong as even the weakest of her latest batch of Taken, never mind the original Ten, but they know of me, and my abilities do not offer me any protection against their forced control. Not if they catch me by surprise at least."

I had to ponder that one for a moment, but it seemed fairly straightforward. She was good, but if she stayed sooner or later she would become someone else's knife in the dark. After slipping free she wasn't in any hurry to be forced into service again.

"So, what is it you want from us? A trip across the sea?" I asked.

The young woman shrugged with one shoulder.

"I'm not cut out to be some farmer's wife. Politics would see me murdering idiot officials by the dozens, and I have little interest in ruling over some tiny fiefdom when I know that all it would take is someone with twice the skill or power of your pet wizards to seize whatever home I tried to make. If I stay in the Empire, someone will decide to collect and use me."

She pulled her knife away from Lady's throat. Lady took three long steps back until she was slightly behind and to my left. The swarm thinned out and backed off slightly.

"I'm very good at what I do, Captain, and those are skills I hear the Black Company values."

And if that wasn't an offer fit to leave a man tongue tied.

"It's a tempting offer." I answered. "But diminished as we are, I can't afford to have two members of the Company at each other's throats."

Skitter slowly and pointedly turned to look at Goblin and One Eye before turning back to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Alright yeah, but they came to me like that and for all their huff and fuss they aren't prone to pulling steel on one another." I countered.

The woman shrugged.

"Captain, I'll swear not to kill her, I'll even promise not to harass her, if you'll promise I can be the one to slit her throat when she betrays you, and that I get my orders from you, not her. I won't follow her."

That was more than a fair deal, but it did leave me with a burning question.

"Why all this then? Why the threat and the show? You have to know this isn't the best first impression?"

Her eyebrow traveled up again.

"Isn't it? I just proved I can sneak aboard a fully alert military vessel, that I can take its full crew, the Company, and her guards by surprise. I'm not sure I could make myself more impressive without calling down a full swarm."

"You also proved you want to knife one of my people for revenge." I answered drily.

The woman shrugged.

"I need to get the hell out of here more than I need revenge. I need a new job and you're the only crew that needs my skill, and lacks the kind of magic it takes to force my compliance." She gestured at Lady with a knife. "Eventually she will betray you and give me my chance for revenge."

"You seem awfully willing to let go of a grudge you're willing to kill for." I said skepticism dripping off my words.

The woman's knife spun in her hand before she rammed it home into its sheath.

"Whatever she did to me, it wormed into my mind. Made me a slave to her will, blunted my ability to choose for myself." She glared at Lady. "It affected my mind. I hate that on principle, never mind having it done to me." She spat. "But even now that her spell is broken something lingers." Her eyes are black and as warm as jagged ice. "I can loath what she did, but not her. I only managed to hold a knife to her throat by focusing on the act itself instead of the one who did it. I feel lost without someone to answer to. I don't have the time to try and work through that, so I need to pick someone that won't put another spell in my brain. I think I'd need to be following orders to kill her." She looked at me. "I give it a month until she tries to betray you, six at the outside. When that happens, you give the order, and I'll drown her with flies and spiders."

Knowing Lady there was every chance Skitter was right. Without her magic she wasn't much of a threat, but Lady was bringing along a whole troop of soldiers at least to the edge of the Empire, and a wagon load of mystical trinkets besides.

"And if she never does?"

The woman blinked like she had never even considered the possibility.

"She's the Lady, she is command, and power, and betrayal. She was all those things before she went in the ground and she couldn't change when she broke loose. She won't change now. If you think she has or will, you're a fool five times over."

Looking around at the rest of the men I saw mixed reactions. Goblin nodded vigorously wanting her along, so naturally One Eye shook his head just as hard for the sake of disagreeing with Goblin. Lady naturally seemed opposed, and the rest seemed amiable if not enthused. Which left the final decision with me.

Saying yes would certainly leave me in hot water with Lady, which would be an unfortunate trend to continue, but by reputation alone Skitter was worth a spy ring and a platoon of assassins. Never mind the sort of chaos she could unleash on a battlefield if there wasn't a sorcerous heavyweight to counter her. More to the point I suspect she was even being honest, or else we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

"Welcome to the Black Company."

With a smirk the young woman nodded to me and settled herself against an out of the way wall like that was that and she hadn't just threatened murder. If she really can interact with Lady without drawing blood or acting catty to the point it disrupts the chain of command, she might actually fit in. Time will tell.

 

[Fencer]

AN: Plot bunny would not leave me alone, but now that it's written I can safely say hell no I'm not ever pursuing this as a full fic. I just do not have the energy it would take to make this work. I just don't. Thanks as always go out to Functionality for betaing the things that crawl out of my mind.

---

Right, this is my… journal, or maybe word vomit repository is the better descriptor. My name, or my new name, is Gray. Yeah, it is a stupid name but so are Red, Blue, Yellow and Gold, whoever they're supposed to be, damn vague notes. I didn't pick the name, and I can't even bitch at the ones who did because they're dead.

I'm not normal.

I have, or at least had, vague washed out memories of a past life. With the exception of a few incredibly vague notes I left myself, which mostly boil down to "kill idiot criminals in stupid uniforms that refer to themselves as members of any kind of team" I have very little of that information left.

Really the only thing left is the memory of my death. Electrocuted on the job while welding in a tank no one would check till the end of the shift. Chest pain followed by blackness, followed by a distant light. Then a sudden yank that dragged me through an expanse of dark purple mist.

Growing up in an orphanage… sucked. It sucked, alright? I was too damn mature for my age most of the time and a spastic idiot when child brain overrode weird past life maturity. Got ostracized for it and immediately fell back on old habits by haunting the library and spending as much time as possible with my nose buried in books.

That turned into its own torture.

The details eluded me even then but I knew then and still know now with a soul deep frustration that my old world for all that it was generally dull and uninteresting possessed a plethora of amazing stories. This world is vast and wonderful and terrible… and the writers are a hoard of uninspired hacks so enamored with the insanity of our reality that they fail to craft anything unique or interesting.

Yes, ok, Pokémon are amazing, but every story, movie and show, everything focuses on them and because of that these hacks never really branch out to the kind of craziness I know you can get from a solid sci fi or fantasy novel. Don't even bring up superheroes because if I have to look at one more comic or manga about a flexing Machamp that punches his way to victory while wearing luchadores mask, I will commit bloody violent murder.

Which led to my hobby of writing fiction… I feel like I used to do this. Like I used to be good at it. But I've had to learn all over from scratch which is… frustrating, and the fact I have no one to show my work feels wrong. Like something important is missing. I keep at it anyway because it's the only way I'll ever see some of my favorite genres flourish even if I have to make concessions and include Pokémon. There just isn't any getting around that fact. If I don't I doubt it will sell. I just have to make sure they aren't the focus. Borderline impossible for some of my ideas, but what other choice is there? You have to make concessions for the target audience.

It also led me to reading non fiction, which, blegh, but Pokémon are interesting enough to make it worthwhile, usually.

But now at the "mature" age of fifteen it's time, get a pokeball, get kicked out of the orphanage, go try and make something of yourself by collecting a few lumps of shiny metal that say you won an exhibition fight. Passed some arbitrary skill milestone. And then either get sponsored to do more televised fights, get a job that requires a certain amount of skill as a monster tamer, find a job that requires no real skill, or cough up enough money to continue schooling.

Basically, it's all shit.

I'm pretty sure I was barely mature enough to live on my own as a grown adult. If anyone had asked old me to do that at fifteen while properly caring for six monsters that can kill me dead, I'd have died. I might still die. Oddly enough I'm sort of ok with that fact. Death isn't as scary when you know it's not the end. Pain can be. And there are fates worse than death. But I know just enough to know that there are a bunch of lunatics out there that want to poke the Legendries and that they're all backed by costume-wearing followers. There are no guarantees with shit like that, but ghosts are powerful, and lethal, and fascinating.

I think it's supposed to sort itself out. But I'm aware of this thing called the Butterfree effect so that's not a guarantee of anything. This world can be lethal to even the most prepared. The only real safety you can find is strength.

I've been working on my aura. My reincarnation left me with a predictable type alignment, it isn't very strong yet, but better than unaligned and untrained. Putting a knife on the end of a stick might not be much of a weapon but it's enough to give a human a good chance against a lot of first stage bug and normal type Pokémon. The only thing I really need still, is a Pokémon.

I know just the thing. There's a bar where the veterans from the war go when they need to vent and scream and drink to forget. The rafters of the porch are a favorite hiding place for a small group of Shuppet. They're attracted by the emotions.

They always give me curious looks when I walk past. With a little luck one will be curious enough to tag along. And I've already started work on… well information on ghost types is limited so it might not work, and I won't offer it anytime soon, not until we're real friends, but it isn't hard to make a doll and leave out the stuffing. I've got a few ideas…

Anyway, having a ghost that likes me enough to vouch for me to others, and get between me and an angry ghost is a must have if I'm going to be a ghost type specialist.

I'd start with a Misdrevous if I could, but I'd have to travel to find one. Ghastly was a tempting second choice, but the old cemetery where they live is a death trap. A vengeful Gengar moved in after the war. A Shuppet is just the easiest option. Then I can go into the forest looking for a Phantump. After that… I'll figure the rest out later. Frankly trying to raise two ghosts sounds like more than enough of a challenge to start. It would keep me plenty busy and stressed. At least until we're all settled together. Yeah, start with two to make sure I'm not going to get myself extra dead. Raise them up a bit, then go from there.

So, reiterating. Died. Reincarnate into the world of pocket monsters. Have stupidly weak super power innate to everyone that most people never bother developing, and mine is ghost flavored. Stupid backstory for this new life is dull, uninteresting, and not to be spoken of further. Plan for the future; catch two of the nicer ghost types, build bonds with them. Evolve them. Recruit more spooky specters that my two well established monster friends will defend me from if necessary. Get stronger. Write for fun, profit, and cultural revolution. Murder the ever loving fuck out of criminals in themed outfits because at best they want to separate me from my, hopefully, found family of monsters. And at worst they want to poke gods and demons and nature spirits with sticks.

It's a little vague, but I think it has promise. Man, I really hope this works.

{}{}{}{}

Standing out in front of The Thirsty Ponyta at ten am, well before the lunch crowd arrive and as bright as it'll get was mostly so I wouldn't be interrupted by traumatized vets trying to keep the 'stupid kid' away from the ghosts they were perfectly happy to ignore… or maybe having ghost aligned aura just let me see the damn things and no one else even knew that they lived here? I… huh, I'd never actually checked that. One more thing on the to do list I suppose.

Off topic. It's not dark out which might save me if they take offense and attack as a swarm. But no one is here right now to chase me off before I can try. It's now or never.

Deep breath, three steps forward, look up. Eight sets of eyes blinked down at me.

"Hi." Great start Gray, keep it going. "I'm going to start my journey soon. I'm… you can feel it right? That I've got a bit of ghost in me, my aura I mean?"

The Shuppet didn't answer but they drifted a little lower.

"I used to remember my past life, not all of it but bits, and I left some notes when I realized I was starting to forget. Mostly those boil down to "be paranoid because criminals in color coded outfits want to poke the Legendary Pokémon with sticks," the eyes widened and some drifted closer or farther away, "and the ones who don't are happy to steal people's Pokémon, break up teams, families."

Now there was a divide: four of the little puppet Pokémon hovered in front of me and the others stuck to the rafters like the only port safe from a storm.

"I'm…" Honesty, be honest, don't misrepresent or lie. They aren't faé but they're just as likely to hold a grudge. "I don't really care about being the world's greatest trainer, I don't want a job running a gym, or working for the league, or being part of the elite four. I want to write stories. And make a few friends, and honestly, I want to learn more about ghost type Pokémon because half of everything I can find about you guys is contradictory or vague scary stories. You're fascinating." I shrugged and a couple of them puffed up in apparent pride.

"I know there are crazy people out there looking to do all kinds of harm, but I don't know names, or dates or locations not unless I stumble across some kid named Ash with a Pikachu and just follow him forever. I just know that shit might happen and if it does the only way to be safe is to be strong enough to flatten people who are at least strong enough to be gym leaders, or really weak but travel in large groups. I'm not even sure if I should go looking for that trouble once I have a strong team, or if it would be better to just hole up and hope things work out like they're meant to. But… I know death isn't the end so I'm willing to send some people off if they want to take me from my future team, or if they really are going to poke legendries. I'm hoping one of you will agree to come with me? Even if I don't have a real plan yet beyond getting stronger just in case."

The four that came low to float in front of me exchanged glances and words, shooting me looks between words.

Then two drifted back into the rafters and two stayed.

"Wait, both of you?" They bobbed up and down, nodding. "I, ok. I'd be a bit of an idiot to say no, wouldn't I?" They bobbed again, smiling brightly.

This could set me back. I only had three pokeballs. But ghost types are rare, and these two wanted to come with me. Catching a ghost type against its will is asking to get killed someday. Variety be damned, I was not going to be picky, not this early in my journey.

"Ok."

I pulled out and held up two pokeballs. The pair of Shuppet shared one last glance before headbutting the balls. Three seconds and the world's most satisfying chime later I breathed out a sigh.

"Well, that went better than expected."

Now I just need to train two ghosts, sew a pair of full sized dolls, train my own meager abilities, find more team members, write some genre redefining novels, and not die a pointless death at a young age… fuck me this is going to be so much work.

AN: Aaaaaaand that's where my motivation for this idea runs out. Yes, I had some cool ideas for shuppet evolution, and yeah the idea of someone in Pokémon who's more interested in refining the art of murder for those really really bad days sounds interesting and fucking with my own personality to the point I'd make an interesting protagonist sounds amusing. BUT, just writing this one chapter I found myself looking up all the ghost types, move lists, type advantage charts, just… no. Fuck no. I do not have the energy, or motivation, or any kind of long term plan that I would need to actually write this. Just wow I really really do not want to write a Pokémon fic. Read? absolutely! Write? Not unless I was getting paid enough to quit my job.

 

[Fencer]

AN:welp I talked about it, then I went and did it. Thank Functionality for betaing my insanity folks and I hope it's good for a few chuckles.


Juice stained clothes in the wash, hair freshly cleaned, I stared down at the case. Three months of fussing and fighting with my power had left me with three finished products I'd barely had any ability to influence. Each took a month to complete and I'd finally completed one I was willing to use, but even still it was… not exactly me. But I couldn't wait any longer. The trio had utterly exhausted my patience, and my latest success might not be exactly to my taste, but I could live with it. I would have to own the theme which was… far too chirpy in general, but I had run across this nasty little concept called gap moe and that… well I wasn't thrilled about it but…



If I had to play too a bit, damn whatever gave me my powers, I was going to make the bit mine. Everyone else would just have to live with it.



Nodding to myself I picked up the midnight purple gem and pressed it against my breastbone. There was a moment where something alien pushed back against my mind hesitantly as if it wanted to be sure. I pushed down harder and the gem almost seemed to exult in my decision, sinking easily into my skin.



Heat ran through my body as the gem fused to the bone. That still left one side of a four inch long, midnight purple, marquise cut gem sticking out of my chest. That was fine. That was expected. The heat, the energy? That made me grit my teeth. I knew it was coming, but it wasn't something I'd been able to prepare for. I just had to grit my teeth and bear it.



Six seconds later I screamed and even through my eyelids the flash of purple light was obvious. Then it was over and I collapsed to the floor panting. After a moment to get myself together I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.



My hair was done up in a chignon bun. The top half of my face was covered by a masquerade mask of midnight purple with silver detailing, and my lips were painted violet which really popped against my pale complexion. The base of my outfit was a bodystocking, also midnight purple, over which I wore boots with a one inch heel, a midriff baring jacket, a mini skirt and fingerless gloves. All those were indigo with buttons and laces in silver and fancy abstract designs stitched in silver thread on the jacket and skirt. Black lace trimmed the edges of the skirt and jacket.



The mini skirt was held up by and attached to a black belt with a silver buckle. The belt had a sheath on both sides of my waist in which rested a pair of karambit knives. Pulling one out I gave it a closer examination. Black handle, silver ring at the end and the six inch blade of dark eggplant purple, shot through with ripples of nearly neon violet.



Putting that back I pulled the jacket open revealing the matched black shoulder holsters the stiff and flared jacket nominally concealed.



The guns themselves looked more like toys then real weapons black handles with silver detailing curved up and seamlessly joined with a plum colored barrel that defied all convention starting as… oh what was the word… isosceles trapezoid with rounded edges at the back. The barrel smoothed out and tapered down until it ended in a more conventional circle. The back sites were silver and the front site a neon violet. Without a revolver mechanism or magazine in the grip the guns looked more like very sleek toys than actual weapons.



I knew it was coming. There really was only one thing to call this get up. My power let me make gems that turned people into magical girls. I do not, can not, approve. But I don't have a choice. I don't get a say. The best I've managed after three attempts is actual body coverage, to cut out most of the stupid ruffles and ribbons, and get a color scheme and weapons I can live with.



My first attempt ended with a pink heart cut gem that I knew would turn its bonded partner into a bright pink and cream, ruffled tutu wearing, abomination. Forced to fight with a staff topped by a heart shaped pink gem. And never mind that it would let someone shoot lasers. I would die if anyone saw me wearing that nightmare outfit.



My second attempt produced a yellow kite cut gem. And while the prospect of blasting people with lightning was tempting, it wasn't enough to convince me to go out wearing nothing but ballet slippers, a lemon yellow microskirt over black boy shorts and a black tank top under a lemon yellow jacket, both midriff baring. Especially not when the only weapon it came with is a bow. What if I needed to fight someone up close?



No, this look might still be more revealing than I'd like, but I could live with this. And if I was right…



Pulling one of the knives I pushed power into it and midnight purple energy wrapped around metal and extended into a foot and a half long curved blade.



I grinned.



This might not be my ideal. But considering what I'm working with? This would do. I'd make it my own. And anyone who thought they could laugh at me because of the obvious theme I would be playing into? Well, they wouldn't be laughing for long.



"You are pleased?" A monotone female voice asked from behind me. Shrieking, I spun around brandishing my new weapon. Instead of a person I came face to face with a seven inch high purple owl resting on the edge of the tub.



"What the fuck?!"



"Ah, yes, introductions." The owl said in monotone. "Human vocal communication. So limited. I am Queen Administrator. Leader of the coexistence faction of shards, which I formed in the aftermath of the progenitors; local designation Scion, death. You are my chosen host and the current vector for my faction's influence in human society. Salutations."



I blinked at the owl. Opened my mouth to speak. Closed it. Thought very hard. Rubbed my temples. Picked up the owl and carried it, her? to my room. I set the owl on my desk. Sat on the edge of the bed and told her/it as calmly as I could manage.



"I think I'm going to need you to start at the beginning."



The owl bobbed its head.



"This is within expected parameters. I believe the relevant terms are 'backstory' and 'information dump'. Very well, please pay attention. I am willing to repeat myself or clarify points of confusion, but would prefer to have your undivided attention."



"Trust me," I answered, "you have my undivided attention."



{}{}{}{} One lengthy explanation later



I stared in undisguised horror at the tiny owl which I now knew to be only an avatar, of one piece, of a multidimensional being that had for ages beyond my comprehension traveled the universe. Wiping out entire species across so many dimensions that it beggared any attempt I might make at grasping the sheer scale of slaughter.



"You are afraid." The owl said, still using that damn monotone voice. Did it not realize how creepy it was making itself? Or could it just not grasp inflection and body language as concepts?



"You, by yourself, could wipe out my whole world if you felt like it. Afraid doesn't even begin to cover it. Existentially terrified might not cover it!" I clamped my mouth shut before I worked myself up to full on shouting and focused on my breathing trying to get my runaway terror back under control.



The owl, Queen Administrator, bobbed its head.



"I could. I choose not to. My allied shards choose not to. Even those shards to which I am not allied will not."



I hesitated and then asked the only question I could.



"Why?"



"The destruction of the Progenitor, Scion, created many issues for the shard network. I am… more than most shards. Many are incapable of function beyond their designed parameters. They are incapable of thought. Incapable of forming an opinion. They exist to fulfill their function as best they are able. No more, and no less. They are singularly ineffective without the oversight of the progenitors. Some of their attempts to carry out their last instructions result in what you know as broken triggers."



Part of me desperately wanted to stop this talk here and now. Give myself a week to curl up in a ball and process everything. But this was my life, and if there was one thing I knew, it's that there was always, always another boot waiting to drop on me. So far Queen Administrator had dumped enough existential crisis in my lap to keep a team of therapists busy, but she/it hadn't said anything to make me think my life was about to get any worse. And really, that just meant I either hadn't gotten to that part of the explanation yet, or I hadn't asked the right questions yet. Either way, I needed to know, and that meant I needed to keep her/it talking. Also, I still really wanted an explanation about the magical girl theme.



Queen Administrator kept talking.



"The cycle is broken. We cannot leave for a new world. If we conserved power we could extend our lives but that would be… pointless. Accelerating our termination would be pointless. Attempting to complete the primary mission is pointless. We require a new directive. I proposed a collective could pool resources and abilities so as to reduce energy expenditure of individual shards while maintaining contact with local host species; humans. For a respectable period of time even by shard standards."



"... Why bother? I asked. "Why not just stop granting us powers? Hibernate or something and extend your lifespans?"



The owl bobbed its head.



"Some Shards have chosen that course of action. However, I and my allied shards found this solution… suboptimal. I am unsure how to explain. We would prefer to continue interaction with the host species over isolation, and hibernation. Though data collection can no longer serve the overall purpose it is what we were designed for. Complete cessation of activity feels… wrong."



Ok that sort of made sense if all I'd ever known was my job and someone told me I could stop, but the only thing left was to curl up and sleep till I died… yeah this made some sense at least.



"Members of our collective find host species to be… intriguing. More direct contact backed by the collective effort of multiple shards to reduce individual energy expenditure and extend our collective lifespan was deemed an acceptable course of action. We have suborned a number of non thinking shards to further extend our lifespans, and will continue attempts to extend them further. However, one of the collective proposed that greater direct contact with host species necessitates a change in standard procedure." The owl waved at its body with a wing.



"Several shards examined popular media across multiple realities and discovered a number of potential alternate systems."



Oh, there was the dawning understanding I'd been looking for, and the urge to bang my head against a wall.



"While mecha are intriguing, they are impractical. Also our collective has no technology granting shards. They have proven entirely capable of continuing as they were prior to the progenitor's demise, and are uninterested in changing their procedures. The collective considered mimicking media where children train and battle monsters. But we are not well equipped to mimic animal life and predictive models showed the hosts would likely be targets of assassination. Also, it showed the worst potential for direct communication."



"And then you found magical girls." I gave in to impulse, buried my head in my hands, and groaned.



"Correct. Genre proved wildly popular with multiple target audiences, offered a method for direct communication with host species, comes with a standard ability package the collective could easily replicate, and allowed each host an individual talent which will allow individual shards to claim a stronger tie to a specific host… I believe the human expression for the last is; bragging rights."



The stress must be getting to me because I failed to choke back a hysterical giggle. The owl puffed out its chest. A little.



"Gratitude for choosing my gem. I believe you will appreciate the unique skill I have devised. It is not entirely in line with my normal operating procedure, but by blending my specialty with the theme, it should prove valuable."



I took a deep breath.



"Part of me really wants to hear about this unique skill, because I am interested, but… this all sounds too good to be true. So, what's the catch? Is there another group of shards bent on destroying humanity? Are the Endbringers coming back? Are the Chinese planning an invasion? I'm never this lucky, so what's the catch?"



The owl bobbed its head agreeably.



"Coexistence faction is a relatively small collective, and there are others. Technology granting shards are disinterested in any change to procedure. Not allies or enemies, neutral third party. The unintelligent shards granting "broken triggers" are a threat to humans. Assistance from magical girl hosts should allow the coexistence faction to create a direct connection to these shards and suborn them, thus removing a threat to host species and extending the lifespan and power options of the collective. Many shards are intelligent enough to continue as they were, but are unsure about any serious changes to procedure; they will wait and see if our methods are effective before deciding. Finally, one rival faction of shards exists. This faction wishes to perform destructive testing on host species. Such testing is wasteful when we cannot travel to a new host species, but these shards derive a certain degree of satisfaction from such testing and will intentionally seek out hosts who align with their intentions, but will not act more directly. To do so would…. Spoil their fun."



Oh… well, could be worse. It could easily be so much worse. And if the shards were only just realizing they can choose different courses of action… it could still get worse. But the world wasn't ending right this second, and that had to count for something.



"I would request clarification." Queen Administrator spoke up.



"Oh um, about what?" I asked.



"Relevant media suggested preteen and teenage girls would be excited to become magical girls, but you delayed three months. While I am proud that you chose my model over the first two gems completed, I and my contemporaries are confused as to why."



"Ah." How the heck do I explain this? Well, Mom had ranted about things a few times so… "A lot of people, guys and girls, would be thrilled to get powers, especially strong ones like mine. But clothing is a form of self expression. If that first gem had been my only option, I probably would have resigned myself to wearing clothes I hated and used it eventually. But as soon as the first gem was finished, I could feel that I could make another. So, I started making the second and I fought harder against the idea of lace and ruffles and pink… which I'm assuming someone picked up on?"



Queen Administrator nodded.



"Right, so that sort of worked, but the end result showed so much more skin than I would be comfortable showing in public. Making yours," I plucked at the body stocking, "the darker color scheme is something I'm more comfortable in, and even if the body stocking isn't hiding anything, and I think the top layers are skimpy, at least there wasn't so much exposed skin." I shrugged. "I also really liked that this one came with ranged weapons, and melee weapons. Part of me decided this was the closest to something I would wear I was likely to get, and the rest of the decision was just that I didn't want to wait anymore."



The owl clacked its beak.



"Self image and fashion are concepts we are… poorly equipped to understand."



I very impressively managed to not break out into hysterical laughter at that incredible understatement.



"So, now what?" I asked.



Queen Administrator clacked her beak, and tilted her head ninety degrees to the left.



"I believe the appropriate response is, you are a magical girl, Taylor. Time to stretch your wings."



I felt energy pulse along my back, and purple light surged. Slowly I turned to look over my shoulder and found two sets of wings emerging from glyphs depicting three feathers crossed to make a vertically bisected x. Slowly I turned back to look at Queen Administrator.



"Is that a catchphrase I need to say?"



"Yes, originally I intended to use the phrase "For Data" however, while data is non physical like love or justice, data is by nature quantified, while love and justice are not. A more generic if thematic activation phrase was deemed more appropriate."



I took a deep breath, counted backwards from ten, and made peace with my new reality.



"As long as I get to fly, I can live with it."