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Resplendent AI 53

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aeris gasped as they threw her into the metal room. She tried straightening her pink dress, tugging at the fabric and getting things more in order. She wasn't quite sure why they'd left her fully dressed; she even still had the slight red jacket to cover her shoulders and upper arms. There had been muttering about some kind of experiment, and Hojo, the greasy man that he was, had seemed far, far too pleased by the idea. It took all Aeris had to continue putting on a brave face, convincing herself that Cloud and the others would come to save her soon enough. It would happen. She just had to hold out. For now though, she was apparently alone, in a room with steel floors. She looked around, noting that the room was close to round, with plates that formed a sort of ring about them. There were holes dotting the walls, and it didn't take a huge leap to figure they existed in order to allow gases and other such materials to leak into the room. A glance further up showed what looked like one-way glass, mirrors of some kind. Aeris didn't spend long looking at that, not wanting to think about the voyeuristic scientists peeping in from above. What was it that Hojo had said? Something about finally having the last Cetra? Something about how she would go well with the other captive? It hadn't made much sense to Aeris at the time, and it wasn't now. She took a few cautious steps forward, still trying to determine what exactly they had planned and where exactly this all was going. She noticed a table then, one that seemed prepared with straps. Breeding, a large open room, holes for gas, something to hold her down if need be... the girl was starting to put things together, and the picture wasn't pleasant. Terror filled, and she started looking around, desperate for an exit. It was then that she heard a sliding sound, something like a door opening. Fighting against the supreme fear, she turned, gazing at what entered with a mix of horror and desperation.

It was dark. Constant darkness with brief interruptions of beaming light through the single slot in his cell. Water and food, just enough to keep him alive. If not for being the last of his kind, perhaps he'd let starvation take him; it had to be better than whatever experiments they had in store for him. With the state of his race uncertain, however, he needed to survive. He waited only now for his chance to escape the clutches of Shinra. The flow of time had been confused since his capture, but he was sure days had passed now. What could they be waiting for? Time continued pressing forward with nothing but silence for Nanaki until, finally, a churning mechanized tick or click began and the ceiling above opened with a split. Light spilling around as he rose with the floor beneath him. He winced at the abuse the sudden bright light imposed upon sensitive eye. His tail of flames whipped with ferocity as he prepared to be harassed. Instead, he was greeted with a lone human in a peculiar setting. She seemed vulnerable, hardly threatening. Red XIII glanced about. The purpose of their union didn't seem so obvious at first. Outside of the room, Hojo and a handful of other Shinra employed scientists observed the scene. "We had to expect this," Hojo commented idly. "It was a one-in-a-million shot that our rare little prizes might mingle." A female scientist responded with a nod and a short, professional, "Yes, sir. Gases of a pinkish hue began to spew into the container housing the two species. A painstakingly created combination of each species chemical compound meant to complement one another, so that the very basic instincts of their bodies might recognize the other of the same species. It was only step one of a long list of tricks, but Hojo wanted the most natural sort of mating he could create. Inside, not much time had passed since Red XIII was brought in and now the pheromones were flooding the room. Slowly meant to alter perception of the two beings, Red reacted first by lowering his nose and covering the wet tip with his paws. Poison, was the first thought. But as the fumes begin to slip by and into his system, it was beginning to make sense. His body tingled with the very beginnings of curious arousal. His eyes now watched whom he believed to be human. What would come of this? The ample set of breasts, the curves frustratingly hidden behind her clothing, Nanaki wanted to catch her scent. Nanaki found her more and more attractive to the eyes.

Fayte paused outside the town entrance, glancing once more back to her home, then to the ball in her hand. Her eyes were an emerald shade of green, her dark brown nearly black hair fell along her back. She wore a soft pink toque that matched her school girl skirt, while her top was black, and tight to her still fairly young body of seventeen years old. She was nervous, she could admit that about setting off on her new adventure, with one of her father's old fire Pokemon. She had promised him she would be the best, so that promise she was going to do the best she was able to. Her chest rose and fell with every breath she drew in. As she turned back to the path before her, her black shoes silent on the dirt path. She raised her hand as she gazed at the Poke Ball within her clasp. This was it, a start to a new life. A life where she will change history. A smile curved her lips as she pressed on. How corny was that. She mused to herself, shaking her head from one side to the next. She entered the forest just before sunset, by the time she allowed the Fire Dog out of his Poke Ball. It would be their first meeting as Trainer and Pokemon. Not from the sidelines as she watched her father battle other trainers or at small gatherings. Would he accept her as his new master?

The red beam from the Poke Ball shot out, expanding and giving form to Arcanine within. The fire Pokemon stretched its limbs, front and back showing off its muscles were in great shape. Standing firmly, the orange-and-black stripes pokemon looked around for his master but didn't see him. The only person around was a young girl standing behind him, which he pretty much ignored at first. He walked a few paces in a circle, trying to track down his master. "Maybe he was lost," he thought, "and my Poke Ball ended up in this girl's hand." Or maybe she... he thought, and gave her a menacing look for a moment. There was a light breeze in the forest, and he caught the scent. He perked up his ears and approached her slowly, sniffing at her feet and up her body. Being six feet tall, it was an easy task to recognize her from toe to head. He knew now it was his master's daughter; she sure had grown since the last time he saw her. He stared at the Poke Ball in her hand and barked, as if telling her why she had it with her. Without her permission, he took possession of it in his jaw. He shook his head in disappointment of how easy it was... so weak. He didn't understand why he was doing this with her. Unaware of what was going on, but he sure wasn't approving of her holding his Poke Ball. Just like that, he turned his back on her and started walking deeper into the forest.

At the X-Men's new mansion in Utopia, Rogue was sitting on her room watching TV on her sofa when she could hear Scott and Emma fighting again. She couldn't make out what it was about, but when she opened her door to see Emma walking past her in a storm, she asked, "Everything okay, sugar?" As she touched her shoulder to absorb her memories, Rogue didn't expect to find a dream that Emma had about the two of them. In the dream, they were sharing a shower together while making out. Rogue felt pretty turned on by it, so she invited Emma into her room. "Wanna talk about it in my room?

For Emma, the lingerie and the skimpy outfits were part of who she was - it was something that defined her as a person. Of course, since she was the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, everything she owned was white. She looks at Rogue and gives her a gentle smile. "You know, Rogue," she says in a stern yet playful voice. "It's not nice to take someone else's memories." She tells her. She is wearing her cape, which has fluffy fur around her neck, and a top that leaves her rather exposed, along with a pair of shorts that cover her ass, but are a little lower than usual. Anyone walking by can clearly see her white thong. She looks at Rogue and laughs. "Why the hell not?" she asks. "I'm sick of Scott's shit making me want to go all lesbian... I swear, I'm sure that a woman knows how to treat a lady well." She tells her as she walks into Rogue's room. She waves her hand towards her, and a chair flies over to her. She looks at Rogue and smiles. "Hmmm, how you have grown," she says.

Life was an endless misery for Vincent Wells, a desk jockey who worked at a company run by Lukas, a mysogynistic bastard who constantly called on Vincent to clean up his messes, whether it was a puddle of cum on the conference table or a rightfully angry woman who wanted her due. If that wasn't enough, his hideously "conservative" supervisor constantly berated his work ethic, saying things like "America wasn't won by lazy shits like you," or "Just like you demo-can'ts! You just want to cash that welfare check don't you!" But that was only one of the many circles of hell around Vincent's neck. The other source of anguish was his tiny apartment, which he shared with his ex-girlfriend Chelsie, the head cheerleader from college who stuck with him through late nights and failing grades. She was the one every man, student, and teacher lusted after, but she stuck with him because he was the main support in their relationship. He didn't notice her unkind words or the little lies she told him until he started noticing used condoms stuck to the toilet bowl. It took him a few months to put the pieces together, but he eventually figured out that his 'best friend' was banging her behind his back. Of course, his big tip off was an overheard phone conversation with one of Chelsie's bobbleheaded friends... "I mean, yeah his dick is pretty big...no...why would I?...I think I was his first, I'm not sure...I know he's pathetic...look, he worships the ground I walk on-- that's good enough for me...of course I am...Troy, 'the best bud'...sounds like a man but--his cock is pretty small compared, he isn't afraid to use his tongue though..."she burst out laughing."unlike some people..." Vincent was mortified. He couldn't believe she was so shallow and uncaring. Yet there it was in her own words. He stayed with her in spite of what he heard that night. His fear of being alone paralysed him completely. Maybe if he tried harder, it wouldn't be so bad. The thing is, a man can only take so much before he breaks. It took twenty-four years, but he finally grew a pair of heavy ones. He wasn't going to be the whipping boy anymore. Monday fell on a new man. The first thing Vincent did was report his boss for sexual harassment and creating a hostile work environment. It was a small, simple gesture, but he was only getting started. His next target was his fascist supervisor, and he wasn't getting off with a simple visit from HR. The thing about Herman was that he loved his vintage Mustang, which he called "the only real American car." Vincent had always thought it a little bland, painted white as it was. To thank Herman for his inspiring words, he decided to spray some nice "gay" purple paint on it and cram the tailpipe with a big fat black dildo. There was nothing left at his life-crushing job, so he quit. Simple and easy. His last act of vengeance would prove to be his rebirth, not quite the way he planned. Because of the grievous betrayal his best friend committed, it was only fair that he should get to say his piece. Unfortunately, his mouth wasn't up to talking, so his fists picked up the slack. The cops had to tase him into submission before they could even get close. Three months later, Vincent found himself serving a five-year sentence for assault. Prison was strangely liberating for him. He didn't have to take anyone's crap as long as he could back up his talk. Vincent truly and deeply enjoyed backing his talk up. By the second year of his imprisonment, Vincent had become well respected by the convict population. The third made him the boss. His fourth made everyone beg to be his bitches. Prison made Vincent into the man he had always wished he was. On the outside, the world seemed so different. He could see what was so fresh and pure in the world, its potential. He had to make sure it met that potential. He had seen the dregs and refuse of society and fucked them all. He knew how to keep them in their place. Vincent was full of strength and desire; he had kept this world pure and right. Gotham would be the starting point. The world would see what a real man could make of this rotten place.

B-but puddin' cup..." Her lower lip quivered. Sure, Joker was an ass, but this? She didn't think it would go to this. Certainly he would want to help her instead of just bolting. After all they had been through, after all she put up with, a little loyalty wasn't too much to ask for, was it? Well, apparently it was. Considering the latest bimbo clinging to his arm. Harley wasn't particularly surprised, it wasn't as if the Joker really did much other than sleep around, go on killing sprees, and otherwise indulge his madness. Still it hurt. And it was scary. It wasn't as if she could just walk back into Arkham and go about her supposed life without him. He was the prince, she was the princess right? Forever and only his, the Harlequin from Commedia dell'Arte. "Don't take it personally my dear, put on a happy face. It's just you have your problems, and I have mine. And I find it ever so pointless to have the same sickening routine over and over. Certainly you know that more than ever!" "B-b-but!" "My dear little Harley...my happy face gal. You know I can't stay here it just isn't good for my health, now that you are all full of he, and even less of a she. Come now, you know I don't like sad faces. Cheer up, before I make you cheer up." She wanted him to. She really did. That ungrateful bastard, she wanted him to beat her down at least one more time, to fuck her inside out and make her whole. If only for the relief that he would stay with her one more night. However he moved to the fire escape and all she should do was hold on for dear life against the wall. "Aww Quinny, Pointless, little useless Quinny. If you won't smile for me, I'll do it myself." *** Sweat was the absolute worst. Well, except maybe the cool of the room when she threw off the blanket. But who was she really kidding, it was the wobbly heat between her legs that was most annoying. Of all the things she had gotten used to, there were still a few kinks she was working out as far as her...appendage went. See, Ivy may have some good ideas, but often those ideas aren't as tested as they should be. Which, strength, agility, and heightened reflexes aside, certain chemicals should be tested before the use on humans. In case they happen to become...a bit manly. Literally. She wasn't displeased with her body, per se. Rather she found the bulging member between her legs to be a kind of an annoying curiosity. Something she was still discovering in terms of its potential uses for her work. She still had what her mother gave her, and most likely the organs that came with it, but it was her newly grown cock that took the front of her new masturbatory urges. Standing at a good nine and a half inches tall, fully erect that is, it was one of the few things that helped pull her out of her depression after that maniac left her. Maniac? Oh, more like coward, piece of shit, dirt bag, jackass. The real maniac was what he left behind. Little Harley Quinn, little pet bitch to that jackass? Not so much anymore. In fact now that the Clown Prince of Crime was out of the way, it was time for the Queen of Havoc to stake a claim in the burning pile of feces that was and forever will be Gotham. In the few months since he left she had already made a substantial impact by herself. Not that there was much to be heard of as far as villains or heroes. Who was she kidding? Everyone was some shade of villain really, and as far as the bat went--by far the worst in terms of "hero villains"--was too mysteriously absent in the city. She didn't really care, after all since his lover the joker left, certainly batsy would go. She had to remember that. That would make a nice addition to her site. She pulled on her clothes and wondered about the night's work. There was much to do. People to kill, killers to recruit, stuff to steal, and stuff to give. She wouldn't burn the city down like Joker tried oh so many times. What was the point of reigning over nothing after all? No, instead her city deserved something more. It deserved the unexpected. It deserved piles of burning bibles, and money raining down on the common folk. It deserved all of the guns to be taken from the police and given to any and all persons old enough to point and shoot. And thus began the terror that was Harley Quinn, the Queen of Havoc, Goddess of Anarchism. Her costume changed as well. What was once a parody of power, picked out and loved by the Joker, for it was the female version of him--became something more suiting of a disillusioned woman. Black skin-tight leather replaced spandex. She created a new hat whose simple black matched her leotard, and the dangling puffs transformed into something that looked more like rubies one would find on a crown...or blood one would find on a sword. She wore flat red boots, and red gloves that went up to her elbow. Her mask stayed the same, other than now she took the time to delicately paint a small red heart on her left cheek. She smiled into her reflection. Not one of those cheeky grins she gave the Joker, but an honest one that whispered stories of crime, insanity, and perhaps most of all, sex. Little chaste Harley was gone now. And she was using every opportunity to prove it. She exited out of the abandoned complex leaving the small storage room she was staying in without a care. If anyone was stupid or bold enough to mess with her new found home--she would deal with them accordingly. She was the reigning law around here, and everyone who had earned a name knew it.

Hulk was so confused. He'd been dominant for nearly three days now, ever since fighting with the tiny human soldiers and being hit with that strange tingly beam of energy. At first it had infuriated him, the burning sensation sending him into a state of rage that destroyed the small people's armored cars and equipment. He'd smashed the metal thing that sent the beam at him. Eventually the people ran away... they always did. No one could beat Hulk. He'd wandered off afterwards, looking for a peaceful spot where he'd be left alone. Normally though when he fell asleep, puny Banner always came back, and he went away. Not this time. He'd woken up, still Hulk, and confused. He was Hulk, but he was calm. Well, calm wasn't the word. He wasn't angry, but he was indeed frustrated. His body had been tense since he'd woken up, and he kept getting erections on and off. Being unable to control it or figure it out, he'd gotten himself angry again, and destroyed several blocks of jungle. Eventually he found a hot spring in the jungle and enjoyed a soothing, peaceful swim. But still Banner did not come back. Hulk hated puny Banner, but it was strange not going back to him. He remembered at the time thinking that maybe Banner had left somehow, and perhaps Hulk was on his own. That got him angry again even though he didn't know why. However by the end of the second day he'd passed out by the spring, and when he woke up, Betty was waiting for him. "Hulk... feels strange," Now here he was, with the small human woman straddling his waist. She had claimed to want him...the way she wanted Banner. Hulk was confused at first, but the female was pleasant, soft, and comforting. He liked the way her skin felt against his. His massive green cock couldn't agree more. Ever since she got there it had been fully erect, its eighteen-inch length as hard as rock, and as thick as a horse's phallus. Thick, pulsing veins ran its length, visibly throbbing with his heavy heartbeat. And his grapefruit-sized balls had been tense for days now, eagerly waiting for release. Hulk wanted the small woman, but he didn't want to break her, so he waited for her to act, growing more and more tense just looking at her soft skin.

A new mutant had emerged. But I was unsure whether this mutant was born with their powers or had developed them through some other means. I had never seen the being in person, but I had seen a picture. They were a mean, green, fighting machine. A massive creature with incredible strength. They looked more like an alien than a human, and I suppose that we had a lot in common. We were both alien-looking with colored skin, and people often shunned us because of it. As Magneto's accomplice, I had built up quite an immunity to fear. Whatever he told me to do, I did, without fearing the consequences. This task would prove to be literally insane. Find a way to implant a secret microchip on the back of a savage, wild, 20-foot green lunatic that can crush a human with one finger? Challenge accepted. I had done my research on the incident of the Hulk, the laboratory, and even, the woman...Betty Ross. A fairly attractive woman for a human...but I would have to duplicate her without ever meeting her. Only through picture and a bit of imagination. And so that's what I did. I ventured off into the jungle in search for him. It took a couple of days, but finally, I found a strip of smashed trees and followed that to a hot spring, where I found the ginormous beast amidst, relaxing in the water. I transformed into his precious Betty Ross, pretending I had searched long and hard to find him, and commencing into my savvy seduction technique. I couldn't believe the amount of sexual arousal the Hulk was under. I had never, in my many endless years of mutant encounter, seen a being so gargantuan in every way shape or form, and I had slept with many people. None of them held a cock as massive as the Hulk. It was almost terrifying to think of, but deeply arousing all the same. I had to keep focus and I couldn't mess this up. Whether or not I was going to sleep with him, the chip needed to be clipped to the back of his neck. And now, I was facing a monster awakening, and I had yet to find the chip. My eyes widened nervously as I realized, taking off my black lacey bra, that I must have dropped the tiny gadget somewhere in the forest. I bit the corner of my lip, I couldn't blow my cover, You were big before, but now... you're huge. I rubbed my slender fingers down his chest. I had to find a way out of this. Just as I went to toss my bra behind me, a hanging branch above suddenly broke off; smacking me straight in the head and causing me to momentarily lose concentration. With a throbbing headache, I lost Betty Ross. The previous clothes morphed back into my skin and it transformed from a tan to my exotic blue form. Holding my head in pain, I slowly opened my bright yellow eyes, only to realize my form had changed only by looking at the reflection of myself in his big green eyes.

The laboratory was very quiet today, which Chikorita certainly hadn't expected. She knew what day it was, certainly. It was her moving day. The day when she was assigned herself a rookie Pokemon trainer. It was an interesting thought, and while she could have quite easily decided that she wasn't going to go, it seemed like fun. Time outside of Sandgem was seldom spent, and Chikorita would often feel like she had gotten far too used to this place. Outside seemed much more exciting to her, and today was finally her chance to find out what it was like... but nobody had arrived so far, and it was nearing midday. For a while she had worried that nobody was going to come around, and that she'd be trapped working in the lab for the rest of her life. It wasn't a bad place, but it was a little boring. It might have been a little easier to relax if she couldn't smell... whatever that was. Some kind of indescribable smell that made her skin tingle. It seemed to be growing stronger as the day went by, and while she tried her best to rest for an hour or two before someone arrived, it just didn't seem to be working.

Ace Masterswas family of Samuel, Gray and Daisy Oak but also of Ash Ketchum. He was a far relative and a few generations younger. In his heart, he was the same as Ash. Ace always wanted to be a Pokemon Master but he didn't look up to Ash nor to Gary. He looked up to an Arcanine, his father's Arcanine. His father was one of the greatest Pokemon Trainers ever existed. Ace also had a sister, Lily. Lily was 13 years old and made her four years younger than Ace was. Professor Rowan was replaced by Dawn and Lucas and they were even better than Rowan ever was. But something was wrong with Ace. He started to jerk off on his sister sometimes and the mysterious Pokemon namedNinetales found out about that. The Shiny Ninetales was considered as a Pokemon that could use black magic so she could curse somebody. When Ace was about to wake up, he got a dream where Ninetales told him about the fact that he wasn't a good person and that he was going to be cursed. As Ace woke up, he just went down the stairs and didn't think about the dream. He was already dressed and ready to go get his first Pokemon. "I'm going mom!" Ace shouted as he walked out the house. On his way towards Sandegem, everything was okay but when he was just inside of Professor Dawn and Professor Lucas' lab, he felt a bit weird but he didn't give any attention to it. "I'm here," Ace said as he walked towards them.

Here you go, hope it's okay. Rina was new to the Amane ranch and already finding it hard not to leave already. She was hired to help the ranch's number one cowboy with the horses, but all she was getting were catcalls from the other farmhands and cowboys who worked there. Rina sighed. "My outfit probably isn't helping my case," she said. Picture of Rina:

Most only knew him as Night, he never had ever told anyone in this remote place his real name and wasn't about to change that. His eyes were often fully black or showed signs of red when really angry, usually with another rancher and being the lead he could do whatever he wanted to any of them and get away with it. The new one needed to work harder, and seeing her standing there getting cat calls only made the insides start burning. "Get to work on cleaning out those stables," he said.

Cersei Saint smiled slightly as she stepped into the hotel room, pausing in the suite's doorway as she tried to figure out where Harry was. Most boyfriend/girlfriends would have just walked in, but they weren't dating, no matter how much the public wanted to believe she was dating her most popular novelist. But because they seemed so determined to believe it, and Harry took care of her like Draco did, for a few hours she was willing to forget that she really wasn't dating him. "Potter?" She asked sounding amused as she walked through the living room of the suite, knocking on the bedroom door before walking in. Not even bothered as he finished buttoning up his dress shirt, smiling slightly. Cersei looked pretty glamorous herself. The gown was a brilliant black that made her soft skin glow almost white, her dark hair, so dark that it had blue highlights shown around her shoulders. Her eyes were even more extraordinary. A soft charcoal grey, framed by dark eyelashes, her makeup done just so that her eyes seemed even bigger, even more like a baby doe. In high-heeled shoes she was almost as tall as he was, studying him with a soft smile. While she didn't feel for him that same desperate passion that she had had with Draco, she still cared for him, because he had been there in those first days after Draco died. Shaking her head to get rid of the thought, Cersei smiled slightly, "Come on. If we don't hurry, we're going to be late." She said grinning widely. Because it was their last day in the States, and she wanted a true New York moment, and that meant seeing a play on Broadway.

Harry smiled as Cersei walked in, his head tilted a little. "Thanks, Cer," he said, gently taking her fingers and kissing them before finishing the last of his buttons. He never seemed to notice that she liked him, but he did, and he loved her just as much as she loved him. He never did anything about it though, he could never betray Draco like that. "I know we're going to be late, I'll just time turn us back an hour if I take too long," he teased, grinning a little. They both knew he had no such thing; he was only a novelist, after all. In fact, he was one of the most famous novelists in the world, the creator of the biggest romance erotica to hit both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He made more money than Lucius Malfoy did, much to the Malfoy lord's disgust. He smiled as he carefully pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, which was the only way to keep it under any real control. He stroked the stubble on his cheeks and chin. It wasn't a beard, but it wasn't five o'clock shadow either - it was the perfect in-between that women loved. "alright, I'm ready," Harry promised smiling as he took her arm, ever the gentleman, and led her out into the hall and down the street towards the theater where they were showing the Broadway musical Cats. Harry loved the show, and he was certain that Cersei would too; she just loved felines. He smiled as they gave their tickets to the attendant and were shown to their seats, Harry settling comfortably into his chair happily as he leaned back on the soft cushioned seats and settled his hands onto the small table in front of him. His heart fluttered as he gently settled his hand onto hers, smiling at her. "Draco would have loved this play..." Harry spoke often about Draco, the world knowing that Harry and Draco had started a tentative friendship after their sixth year. No body or parts had been found except a few strands of hair and a lot of blood. He grinned again. "I told you we weren't going to be late." He stated as most of the crowd swarmed into the theater, a very familiar figure walking in. Tall, slender, pale skin, silver blond hair, eyes that were as silver as the ring on his finger. His own suit made his perfection even more perfect as he moved past Harry who froze, swallowing thickly as he glanced at Cersei, making sure she hadn't seen him, hoping desperately that not-dead-in-the-least Draco Malfoy sat as far away from them as possible so Cersei didn't notice him. Then, of course, Draco sat right in front of them, not at all aware of people who knew him being so close. He had run to America, New York City, for a reason after all, so no one would know who he was. Harry hoped desperately that she didn't notice him, or worse, he noticed them. The lights already dimming to let the show begin, Harry could find an excuse to leave right?... terrible stomach ache maybe? No, he had used that one to get out of going to that stuffy Gala? Maybe he could start a fire? No, she would know it was him; what the hell was he going to do!?

The day started simply enough. The doctor came home from work late, as normal. His son was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. He knew perfectly well what the boy was doing and wanted no part of it. Blasted child of his running off to help the Shinigami at a moment's notice. None the less with the Kurosaki boy. Ryuuken simply sighed and put his things on the kitchen table. The house was empty and he had it all to himself. Again. With a quick glance at the contents of the fridge, he decided he wasn't hungry. But he did need a shower and a good night's sleep. With two fingers, he pushed his glasses up higher on his face. As he headed up the stairs, he paused. Thinking he heard something. But he felt no one else in the house and quickly dismissed it. Rarely did he use any of his powers, but with the increased numbers of Shinigami and Hollows, he stayed alert. All he wanted right now was a relaxing shower. It had been yet another long, hectic day at the hospital. Some would say it was a good day; he had only fired two nurses and one doctor. Ryuuken turned the knob and first turned the water of the shower on. He let it run without bothering to shut the door. If his son came home, he could hear it. The man undressed slowly, letting the steam roll over him. He let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders. He closed his eyes and placed his glasses on the sink. The tie followed. Slowly, items came off leaving him in his pants and unbuttoned shirt. The night was peaceful, and it was just what he needed.

Sosuke let his chocolate brown eyes flicker over his followers as he sat on the throne which had been made especially for him by the residents. Things were moving along at a fairly decent pace and he had some time to spare. So how should he fill this rare moment of free time? There were many things he could do but what would be the most advantageous to him? Sosuke thought silently for a short while and then a smile came to his lips - his mind made up - as he rose and strode out of the throne room without glancing back. Not too long afterward, he appeared directly outside Ryuuken Ishida's house with a scrap of white cloth in his hand and a smile on his face which might have been pleasant had one not known his true nature. Sosuke entered the building without much effort since in his reaper form, material walls couldn't stop him. Due to the fact that he wasn't of solid matter at the moment. He could hear water running upstairs and flash stepped up to the room in question, just in time to see Ryuuken remove his tie and set his glasses on the sink. Oh what perfect timing he had, Sosuke thought with a smirk, using his abilities to appear directly behind the Quincy and stretched out a hand to remove the other male's shirt. "Why don't I help you with that?" The god-like reaper murmured in that smooth as silk voice he possessed and tossed the shirt away from both of them with a flick of his wrist. This wasn't just a whim of his to pay Ryuuken a visit, no Aizen always had a plan when he showed himself to others and this was no different. What that plan might be was another matter entirely and one that he was sure no one would understand. Not until it was too late to do anything about it. The night wouldn't remain peaceful for long. No, Sosuke expected Ryuuken to react instinctively and try to shoot him which would not be a very wise choice.

Freeside was much as it had been since the Courier's victory almost a month ago. There were more people now, and they tended to look healthier. The differences were a bit more subtle: buildings looked a touch cleaner, people were wearing nicer clothes. Corpses had been cleaned up. Even the Old Mormon Fort had actual wooden buildings inside it now. They were still fairly primitive, but now they were able to bring it more medical technology and workers, originally needed to help them cope with the flood of injured people in the wake of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. There he was, walking down the middle of Freeside, wearing an eye-catching duster outfit. He had short, messy black hair and a thick goatee. Combined with his sunglasses and bandana, he certainly stood out amongst the poor neighborhood. His confident gait, the purpose with which he moved, and the polished black assault rifle (with a silver metal, polished receiver) gave him an air of authority. Most people who walked around simply ignored him, though some pointed and whispered in hushed tones as he passed. He didn't seem to fit the descriptions of the travellers and citizens, of "Courier Six," whose real name nobody seemed to know. He was supposed to be kind and giving and... well, this man looked dangerous. Badass, one might say, as he patrolled the streets.

After her escape, Jessica realized that there was only one place that she could go and find any amount of safety: New Vegas. Fully protected by the enigmatic 'Courier' and his army of Securitrons, it was inaccessible to Caesar's Legion, the group that had enslaved her for nearly a year. She didn't have the caps to get into the Strip. That much is for sure. The Securitrons had turned her away immediately. However, she had heard rumors about the kind-hearted Courier and his tendency to patrol the City himself - even the slums of Freeside. For days, Jessica worked and survived in Freeside, doing anything for some caps or even a hot meal. All the while however, she kept an eye and ear out for any news of her potential savior. Luck was on her side, as word spread that the Courier was out and about, keeping safe the streets of Freeside. She flew from the seedy bar she had been frequenting in search of the Courier. His regal presence and the deference with which everyone treated him left no doubt in her mind that the simply dressed and armed gentleman strolling down the street was the mysterious man she had been seeking. After a calming breath, she ran up to him, completely ready to recite the speech she had already prepared, providing a level-headed and logical proposal as to how she could be useful to him if he allowed her to stay in the strip, despite her poverty. However, to her dismay, when she opened her mouth what came out was: "Looking for a good time tonight, sir?

Her entire body was sore. Nothing seemed to feel the way it was supposed to. Her body was heavy, and she felt almost as if some of her skin were bare. But that couldn't be right...could it? Her eyes fluttered open with much effort and she realized that she was not on base, not in her ship, and certainly nowhere near true civilization. Gasping, she sat up too quickly and then fell back again, a bout of dizziness pushing her back faster than any living being could have. What the hell happened? How did she end up in a hut like this? Bringing her hand up to her head to hold it, she froze. No uniform. No pajamas. No panties. What the hell?! She gasped again and looked down at herself. What was she wearing? She seemed to be wearing golden armor of some kind...well, at least it was made of gold. It wouldn't do much to protect her, however, since it didn't do much to cover her at all. Her full breasts bulged against the golden cups and from there to her hips was uncovered, revealing a flat, toned stomach. Her long, strong, shapely legs were completely revealed, only a small strip of metal covering her front and stopping at mid thigh. The back was pretty much non-existent. And now that she was thinking of it, she seemed to have some sort of headpiece as well. What the fuck was going on?! Frantically, she tried to remember what had happened to her, but the last thing she remembered was flying over this area on patrol...had she been attacked? Was there an accident? What happened? And why was she dressed like this? Slowly, she sat up and looked around the hut, finding that nothing in particular was strange about it. And then she saw a giant lizard woman step in. Ordinary humans might have screamed, but she knew that the people of this planet were anthropomorphic. After a moment of staring at this creature, she asked, "What happened?

The lizard woman looked at her and started to growl something. Other than being green and much of her body scaly, and her face dominated by a slight snout, she seemed to be dressed much like Krystal, except her "armor," if you could call it that, was a darker shade of green. Despite the tail, the cocked ears, and reptilian skin, the alien was clearly as female as Krystal herself. Her armor displayed her heavy breasts, flat smooth belly, flaring hips and lean legs the same as Krystal's armor presented her. Seeing Krystal's puzzlement, she paused a moment, closing her eyes. Holding the back of Krystal's bra were two shoulder pad bits of armor that extended two straight slats against the back of her neck, like part of a collar. While the alien woman waited, Krystal felt her neck tingling, and there were more tingles from the headpiece atop her hair. It didn't feel bad, just a kind of tingling, and then it went away. "There," the lizard girl growled. Actually, she growled just as she had before, but Krystal heard it translated within her thoughts. "Now you can communicate normally with all the tribes. And I will be able to explain your new status." She sat down in a chair built for her dimensions. "I am ..." the growl was untranslated. "Like you, I serve the warriors of the Sharpclaw Tribe. But I'm getting ahead of myself, I suppose." She composed herself again and restarted. "Your incursion was detected by the Techno Tribe. They have ways of detecting ships that fly. Just as they furnished the warriors of the tribes with flying belts to defend us. Our warriors, and those of the other tribes attacked and disabled your ships. Seeing the pilots were all female, naturally you were seized from your vessels and divided up between the tribes as captive slaves. That is what you are now. You are a pleasure slave for the warriors. Your armor marks you as an available slave for all warriors in camp. It allows you to wander freely through the camp, but will not allow you to leave the confines. You are expected to service any who desire you." She looked askance at Krystal. "And I suspect that will be many, and often." She waved a hand at Krystal. "You were marked by General Scale at your capture, although you were not conscious to enjoy it. His essence stains you, still. The warriors will want you clean for their pleasure." There was, in fact, a milky clear residue on Krystal's breasts, cheeks, belly, and legs. It was dried now, but still stuck to her skin thickly. The girl pointed out the door toward the rising sun. "You will want to clean in the pool of Zora's Domain. It lies beyond the Scaleskin Tavern. It will help prepare you for what is to come.

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

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

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

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

Night had fallen, and the compound was just coming awake. Due to their preference for darkness, the drow who resided there were a nocturnal lot. The temple of Eilistraee was central to the small walled town, and everyone served the Dark Maiden in one aspect or another, even if they were not dedicated to the priestly service of her. There was a market place, a tavern/inn, a stable, and the various houses laid out in an orderly fashion. All of the land surrounding the town was wooded, with the occasional open field or clearing. Most of the goods needed by those residing within were traded for in exchange for less mundane things. Smiths turned out fine pieces of armor and weaponry; herbalists traded magically-enhanced potions; and there was no end of those able to teach others the way of sword and bow and hunting and tracking. The arrival of a stranger was announced as he approached with his beast of burden, and word traveled through the small town to the ears of those who resided in the temple. One such curious resident was T'riss, a longtime priestess serving the Dark Maiden since she was young. Most of those within the walls were suspicious, but considering the fact that she'd spent a good decade or two outside of them, she was a little less hostile when it came to those who might not be as naturally long-lived as she and her ilk. She wasn't the only one, however, and soon the gate would be opened to allow him entrance, and he would be guided to the center of the town, to the very heart of it. The temple of Eilistraee looked as if it had sprung from the ground itself, seemed fashioned of crystalline trees and vines, woven together to form a vast complex that paid homage to the beautiful young goddess. It was larger than one might expect, and there were several priestesses come out to welcome and inquire. Each of the dark-skinned elves was homage to beauty, and in diaphanous silks that left little to the imagination. They certainly were not a celibate group of worshippers, and the tallest of them was watching him quite closely as he approached. T'riss was an attractive female, older than all aside from the high priestess herself. Long silver-white hair was caught up at the nape of her neck, tail trailing down between her shoulders. Bright blue eyes peered out from that slate gray face, and it was green silk that clung to her figure. She didn't look like one of the more dangerous residents of the town of dark elves, but looks often were deceiving among the drow.

Thomas slid off of his horse easily as the priestesses approached him. The cloak hiding the divine's touch on him was removed and slung over the horse's saddle. Almost like a punch to the libido, it filled the area. Thomas's appearance certainly didn't hurt either; broad muscular shoulders, a stomach that glistened like polished iron. Deep intricate tattoos that seemed a part of the skin. On each hand, dragon-skin gauntlets went up to the second knuckle and ended at his elbows. His pants were made of dragon leather, and his boots were heavy steel with pointed tips. However, the mark on his chest was seriously impressive. A woman who seemed both erotic and deadly. The tattoo was simple - a woman "kissing," as if in an air kiss. It wasn't an uncommon gesture for human women or any women whose men were leaving. This felt different, though - like a first love or a particularly amazing night partner. Only one goddess of lust had that level of power to flaunt, which also spoke of the warrior's skills. Diebela, the Dragon Goddess of Lust, once supposedly cursed a female mage to be a dragon for causing a war that destroyed most of the world. To invoke her, one had to please her, a task that was said to be impossible. The level of pleasure granted the goddess decided her blessing level, visible by the number of marks on the priest or priestess's body. Most had a half dozen, but this warrior had thirty or so, most bleeding from the one over his heart. Anyone who worshipped Diebela was an amazing lover, and could charm a dragon from its scales. Many used vocal magic and were infamous assassins. However, this warrior seemed almost nonchalant about the mark, not hiding it like others did. A large Gladius went horizontal to his waist while a Bisento's blade was visible at his right shoulder. The man was tall at 7 feet 6 inches, and very well built. Diebela was a neutral goddess who thrived on chaos and power. She wasn't overly cruel or spiteful, however. The problem was most people who enjoyed sex considered her their goddess, and Diebela didn't see anything as sacred - age, race, marriage, her followers tended not to see such things as important either. The man smiled at the Drow as he said, "Hello ladies. Sorry to intrude, but I'm looking for a companion or two for the night, and a bed to sate them in. I'm on a quest to kill a group of dragon worshipers a few leagues from here, and Milady suggested stopping by here." Those with "the sight" would see a too beautiful woman, well the outline of her mumbling something to him. He rolled his eyes as he said, "She also apologizes for coming here without permission, but the mark I bear means me and her are connected more so than most, I'm sure. Most of you see or hear her, she's lessened the bond so as not to hurt you, but this is all she can do so.

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

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

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

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

Katniss Everdeen. 17 years old. The first person to volunteer as tribute for the Hunger Games. Subsequently involved in the first ever crowning of two victors of a single Hunger Game. Now officially the Capital's plaything while she was vying to keep her family and Peeta unharmed. It was obvious after her stunt with the nightlock that President Snow was not pleased with the results of her actions. Not only did they have to change the rules so they would live but now he was hearing whispers of the other districts having issues with rebellions. Ultimately, Katniss did not realize the impact that single action would bring but now she was being punished for it. In some ways, Peeta's actions caused a new plan for President Snow. He wanted to use the fact that Katniss was so desirable as a way to gain support for the Capital and to bring her back under his control. When he told her his plan, of course Katniss immediately and vehemently disagreed. It was then that Snow reminded her that she couldn't protect her family when she was hundreds of miles away...that Peeta went to all that trouble to be with her, it would be a shame to throw it away. He asked her what the safety of her family and boyfriend would be worth to her....apparently to Snow it cost her her virginity sold to the highest bidder. The night of the auction, she went through the process of being dolled up by her prep team as normal but she was much quieter...much more reserved as they painted her up. The outfit she was presented by Cinna left little to the imagination. It was blood red and lacy, a pushup bra and matching boyshorts. She was paraded around in front of a massive crowd while a television behind her showed them various outsides and looks she'd been forced to model. Katniss was in her own mind as the crowd shouted out various number and bids, until one was the victor. She didn't even get to see him before she was dragged away and prepared for travel. Soon she was wrapped like a present in his choice of outfit and delivered like a package to his home.

As one of the richer men in the Capitol, Charles had watched the games with all the luxuries imaginable. From the beginning he had admired Katniss' beauty as many as the men had, but as a reasonable man he had put many bids towards Cato. To say the end result of the Game had been surprising and disappointing was an understatement. After losing a good fortune because of the girl's actions, he pounced on the chance when her virginity was auctioned off. While he was slightly hesitant to spend another fortune towards having her for himself, his anger and desire for her had combined which had caused him to eventually cast the winning bid on her. The rules as had been explained to him were very simple. She needed to still appear as luscious as she ever had once his time with her was finished. Otherwise anything else was fair game. Charles planned on making her suffer. Not only had she cost him two fortunes, but she had also become one of the most desired females in the world. He wanted to make her beg for the things he would do to her. Charles had been given the choice of decided what Katniss should be wearing when delivered to him. After much deliberation he had settled on a dress similar to what she had been wearing during her interview before the game. It was the same color red, but strapless, and the soft material hugged her form even tighter than the last had. The dress she was to be delivered to him in was also much shorter the red material would barely cover the bottom of her tight ass leaving her long legs completely exposed down to the high heels she would be wearing. Underneath the dress she would be wearing nothing but a tiny black thong. Once she arrived at his home servants would take her to one of his large bedrooms, leaving her standing in the middle of the open floor. About fifteen minutes after she arrived Charles entered the bedroom the door locking behind him. Katniss Everdeen. You understand what you are to do here, with me? You understand what will happen should you disobey? He barely gave her time to reply before he spoke again. Spin around slowly. Let me get a good look at you.

M'gann stared at the now quiet Zeta-tube. Most of the gang had decided to go to a movie, but she had told them that she would stay behind and clean Mt. Justice. After all, with the glare Conner was giving her, she was obviously not welcome. M'gann silently pushed off the ground and floated down the hall. Conner had been cold toward her ever since she had opened up to him about her culture's relationships and they had broken up. Training was awkward... missions were awkward... everyone felt it, but not a single person approached her to see what they could do to help. They all went to Conner. After all, it was more likely that he would hurt or hurt someone... M'gann could take care of herself. Well, they were all wrong. She was breaking inside, and only one person cared. M'gann gently lay on the ground in front of his door and knocked. The door slowly opened to reveal her savior. Looking through her lashes, M'gann blushed as the words tumbled out of her mouth, "You want to play Love Bite?

Thomas smiled as he looked at her. "You know I am more than happy to help you pet," he said, allowing the Martian into his room. "Remember it's either Master or Thomas when we're alone, baby," he added, pulling the green-skinned teen into a deep kiss. Like with everything else, it was dominant and hard. His tongue rubbed hers while his hands caressed her chest through her top. He'd ordered her to make her breasts larger when they were alone and to slowly increase their size in front of the others. His hard torso rubbing against her back. He chuckled slightly to himself. "Did you read those books like I suggested? Study that top 100 sexiest women and superheroine lists the Playboy Channel did a few weeks back?" He smirked. "I can't wait to play with your shape-shifting skills." Thomas Alexander Hellsing, or Love Bite, was tall at six foot eight. He weighed an appropriate 320 pounds for his size. Thick muscles but still lean decorated his form. White blond hair hung to the middle of his back. He obviously had been showering, although a large cock was hardening behind his towel. His sapphire blue eyes arched with his neon green bio kinetic energy.

Batman and the Copycat. Sophie slipped into the tight suit in the changing rooms at the back of the bar. The suit was entirely black, encasing her from ankle to neck when the zipper was up. The look was completed by high-heeled boots and, of course, the cowl. Her long black hair was twisted up and pinned to her head underneath the cowl, with black eyeliner around her blue eyes. Loud music and commotion from the bar itself were muffled by the closed door, but only made her feel more uncomfortable. She still needed the money, but that was, as it had always been, the only reason she was there. Already her thoughts were hours away, after she'd danced for the customers, earned the tips they'd push into the suit where she had slid the zipper down. And if they wouldn't behave, she might just seek them out, after. And so she went through the motions. When the bar closed, she lingered until all the other girls had left. Then Batgirl would slip outside. These nights she'd go after them with a kitchen knife and a long whip. She wasn't a great fighter yet, although she was taking classes in martial arts. The whip however was a prop from an earlier act she'd done at the bar, she'd gotten quite handy with that. Sophie still felt a little nervous as she stepped out. She picked her targets at work, perverts, thieves, muggers. Yet her heart raced in excitement when she found that guy she'd been looking for tonight. This particular lowlife had been harassing Sammy at the bar, going as far as hitting the dancer when she told him off. Sammy was a friend, a colleague. This guy needed to be taught a lesson. Her luck was up as he was just going to pee. With a quick flick of her wrist, the end of the long whip struck at the back of his head. He yelped, hands going up to his hurting head in a reflex, leaving the man in a rather embarrassing position with his dick hanging out. That's what you get for hitting women. Sophie spoke in the most angry tone she could muster. Another flick of the wrist and the whip cracked in the air, making the man flinch. Don't let me catch you at it again. It was enough to get him to scurry away, one hand on his jeans, one hand on his head. She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. Doing this, especially when it went well, made her proud of herself. That in itself had been pretty rare before.

Night. Night was the time when things other than daylight changed. The atmosphere changed, and the people changed. Many of those people would change from some ordinary citizen into a criminal, but for Bruce Wayne it was changing from a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist into the dark and brooding vigilante named Batman. Was it always the choice that Bruce made? The answer would be no. While the tragic deaths of his parents weighed heavily enough on his mind to drive him to become a vigilante, his first time out wasn't the best. He busted some muggers in a leather jacket and ski mask, but the criminals did not fear him. They mocked him first and continued their mocking until he knocked them unconscious from his superior fighting skills. After that night he knew that they would fear him as he was. That was when the idea of the cape and cowl came to be. He brushed it off immediately thinking that it was ridiculous and focused more on his love life and trying to move past the obsessions of his youth. Then he watched as the city decayed further without his help. More and more reports of crime filled the news stations and Bruce could take no more. After that the cape and cowl was donned and Batman began... A few years had passed and he had grown in popularity as people leapt at the chance to vocalize their opinions on him. Some claimed he was some urban myth that was started by some punks, but it was proven wrong as a photo was taken of his thwarting a bank robbery and people certainly believed.. As his popularity grew many people began to copy him by taking to the streets and trying to do what he did. For instance this one woman who Bruce was surveying at the moment. While he was out on patrol he decided to check to make sure that none of the copycats were out tonight. GCPD reports placed one of the copycats operating in this area so he decided to take a look. He was observing the strip club as it was a hot spot where the lowest of the low gathered for viewing pleasure. One stepped out to relieve himself but only met with the few cracks of a whip and he was running back inside. He caught the flash of black and silver and moved in after the creep was gone. He glided off of the building in front of the club and landed infront of her. He stood up and formed a menacing brood on his face, his mouth and body language as much. "What do you think you're doing?

Dovahkiin. The most revered Nord in all of Skyrim. The slayer of Alduin, the Listener of the Night Mother, Guild Master of the Thieves guild, Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Harbinger of the Companions, and the ender of the Skyrim civil war. And what was this brave hero doing now? Currently shopping for a gold ring, from Marise in Riften. "All this jewelry, and yet you only have 200 septims. I will never understand you, Marise," Shadic said, shaking his head. He turned around and bid farewell to the Argonian. "Safe travels, land-strider," Marise replied. The Dragonborn looked to the sky, silently asking the Aedra why, before looking in front of him. "Maybe Maramal has something I can do... Come to think of it, I've never really looked around the temple. Maybe it's time I should." He muttered to himself before heading into the Temple of Mara.

Calypso sat on a wooden pew facing the altar of Mara. The love goddess. Her chosen patron. She was one of the two women who paid tribute to Mara. There were also two men. Being a follower of the goddess of love, Calypso had often put the 'love' into practice. To be honest, things could get boring around the temple. After praying to Mara and cleaning the already spotless temple, there was nothing much else to do. Maramal was boring, as he was married. But he was often out at the local inn during the day, which gave Calypso plenty of time with the second male priest Briehl. Calypso didn't see herself as a slut, in fact, she didn't believe in the word at all. After being surrounded by people who worshipped the goddess of love, Calypso had decided that what she was doing was completely natural. It wasn't illegal, and it wasn't even immoral, considering she wasn't married. She just wanted a little fun. And after praying to a goddess that basically endorsed love making, she felt like it was almost to be expected. Briehl, however, was nowhere to be seen today. Calypso leaned back in the pew, disappointed. Sighing, she wondered how she was going to spend the rest of her day. Dinya (who also disapproved of Calypso's . . . theories) was bustling about in the bedroom of the temple. She irritated Calypso often. The way she spoke down to her and preached to civilians rubbed Calypso the wrong way. She also never gave Calypso any important duties or fun assignments. It was always praying and cleaning, or helping out the weird lady who looked after all the dead people that were buried under the temple. She bored Calypso to tears. The only reason Calypso actually still stayed in the godsforsaken temple was the money and accommodation. She couldn't afford an inn, let alone a house. The temple was her salvation, and Mara was her saviour. And Calypso did like the goddess. She stood for things Calypso could support. Love and marriage. Two things Calypso wanted desperately.

Drusilla was dead, that was the thought that had been playing inside of Spike's head for the past few months, ever since he had arrived too late to save her from the insane ministrations of an insane human Inquisitor wanna-be. That Inquisitor had suffered immensely under Spikes hands, everything that Angelus had taught him all those years ago was brought to use as Spike made the man beg for death for days before leaving him a mewling and broken wreck... and then he had almost fallen apart himself. He had been with Drusilla since the beginning, since his birth as Spike from the... human that he had once been. She had been with him every step of the way, delighting in his predisposition towards incredible violence and anarchy... the one who he had killed his first Slayer to impress though the second he had killed all for himself, just to show that he could do it. At his peak he had been perhaps the most feared vampire active on the planet, as older vampires became more introspective and fell towards plotting Spike went out of his way to cause trouble just for his own amusement and of course... because Dru had loved to noises that his victims made. Now he was far from his peak though, feeling almost no direction at all he had fallen apart mentally, living in the slums of a European country that he couldn't name if he tried, feeding at random as the urges struck him rather than forming what would otherwise be called a 'healthy' feeding habit. Even his normally perfectly colored hair had started to show its roots... he had even considered meeting the sun because he felt lost and without purpose. But before he could do anything, rumors reached him - word that the so-called Master had risen in a town in California, a town with a Hellmouth. Spike had only encountered the Master once, during a random whim of Dru's that took them on a long and rambling tour of the States in the early twentieth century... crossing the pass of the vampire who was the source of their own lineage. Spike had not been overly impressed by it, but had been smart enough to show enough respect to avoid being killed. The Master seemed more interested in summoning the Original Demons to the Earth rather than just enjoying the experiences the Earth held for them all, trying to bring the ride to an end in Spikes less than humble opinion. In truth, Spike cared little for meeting the older vampire ever again, but something like him walking the Earth would draw a Slayer, and Spike knew what to do with Slayers. It was all so simple, it had struck him like a bolt of lightning. Dru might be gone, but he was still there, and she wouldn't be impressed by his moping around and drinking himself into a stupor every night. He was William THE FUCKING BLOODY, and he was going to get the hat trick by killing himself Slayer number three. Feeling filled with new purpose, Spike set out, fixing his hair, slaughtering his way out of the ghetto that he had found himself in, feeding on just about anyone that crossed his path... oh yes, he was back. Unfortunately, his delay in finding himself meant that he was too late; by the time he reached the States, word was getting around that the Slayer was dead at the hands of the Master who had then fallen, rather pitifully, to a random crossbow bolt to the heart. The town of Sunnydale was still apparently terrified of vampires who practically had their run of the night, but there was a power vacuum with the Master gone and a Hellmouth drawing all sorts of crazies to it. Another Slayer would probably show up before too long, and Spike wanted to be there when it occurred. So he made his way across the states, driving like a madman to ensure that he got there before the other Slayer showed up and got herself killed by being an idiot. Before long, he was pulling up to Sunnydale, this town with a Hellmouth, something every vampire could feel, like an electrical current over the skin that made everything so much more real. With a grin on his face, he drove his car right through the sign that announced you were entering the town, parking just a few feet further on and climbing out with a sneer on his face, taking a deep breath in a town where even the air seemed charmed with dark power... it was a rush all its own. The people of this town thought they had it bad before, but they had no idea at all what they were in for. Oh, this is going to be fun! He whispered to himself, looking about to see if there was anyone to eat nearby; he was starving after his long drive and the sooner he was able to eat, the better. Spike left his car where it was still idling, only stopping long enough to grab a bottle of liquor from the passenger seat before setting off in the direction of the town proper. There would be fun to be had there.

Get it out of my sight," she commanded sotto voce but nonetheless demanded immediate compliance. Two male vampires rushed to do her bidding, hunched and cowed in a traditional and animalistic posture that denoted submissiveness. Neither one so much as attempted to glance at her. Pussies, the whole damn lot of them. Zander's maimed carcass was cast outside, where he would lie screaming for the dawn. Willow had known he was too weak to lead and he had swiftly accepted her as his personal alpha but there had been something familiar about him and that had been reassuring while she was winning the support of vampires centuries old in the pursuit of her new world order, well Sunnydale order. The world could wait... for now. The factories that had been Zander's brainchild were burning to the ground. Willow preferred a more personal touch to feeding. Since Buffy had died at the hands of a half-crazed Angel, whom she herself had tortured beyond the point of madness, there was nothing to push against. Willow had returned the vampire class to the shadows but only because that was where the fun was to be had. There were no curfews now, no blood tithes. The people of Sunnydale could run their lives as they pleased but if they were fed from and/or killed they had no form of redress. Burning the draining factories and blood tithe stations had been enough of a sop to the human ruling elite. They weren't about to start splitting hairs if the town retained a rather high death toll, particularly amongst the young, strong and beautiful. Humanity adapted, as it always did and already blood banks were overflowing with volunteers. Donating regularly was an insurance policy against the unthinkable and many lives were saved by the hospital's sky-high - but nevertheless barely adequate - blood stocks. Willow was fine with that. Let them patch one another up only to be fed from - or worse - again and again. Let them feel like they were achieving something and scoring a point against adversity. Anyone who fell into the clutches of one of her followers would learn very quickly exactly how pointless human endeavour truly was against the might of immortal vampires with superhuman strength, speed, agility... and depravity. Humans' lives were fleeting; breeding and dying like vermin. No human was to be turned without her express approval, since turning humans into the undead only increased competition in the long term. Any human who was turned had to already have been subjugated into the obedient slave of an existing vampire. They were tattooed about the throat with the name of their owner and that owner was responsible for keeping them in check. No single vampire could have more than three slaves, and Willow did not intend for the vampiric population of Sunnydale to increase beyond 30 percent of the human population - a population that had taken quite a recent dent. Walking happy meals had to be plentiful or the vampires would swiftly turn upon themselves, undoing her work and destroying her vision of the future. Any vampire who trespassed on another's property had to forfeit their own slaves and in severe cases become in turn the property of Willow herself. Already it seemed as though she would never have enough of the most loyal acolytes to ensure her every command was carried out promptly. Her acolytes swiftly broke and bridled her acquisitions from inter-vampiric property disputes. Willow received extravagant gifts and donations from the oldest vampire houses and even those who were privately skeptical of her paid monetary lip service while her dark star was ascending. One such gift was a mansion that now served as her base of operations. By human standards it was derelict but vampires preferred boarded windows and had no use for heating or other modern conveniences. The building was structurally sound, boasted extensive cellars and even a few very recently excavated oubliettes, while inside candles and oil lamps provided the kind of low lighting that vampires tolerated. The furniture was ornate and antique and if the fabrics were a little dusty and ragged, they served their purpose; appearing rich and sumptuous in the soft, flickering light. Willow stalked up to her master bedroom, where a naked teenage girl was hunched in a corner, sobbing. Her minions had tenderized this one but it remained intact... internally as well as externally. Willow wasn't hungry but she was restless and she knew that this one would taste sweet, young and unsullied as it was. She took in the young blonde's slim curves and chuckled when she saw where a crucifix-shaped burn was seared into her dcolletage. Incredible what some people thought would protect them. Even now it was twisting its fingers pointlessly into a cross. Willow crowded the girl into her corner and licked from the burn at her throat up to the salt of her tears. The girl's palpable fear caused Willow's face to transform, revealing her fangs. She ignored everything the girl said and did, lifting her slight form bodily from the hardwood floor and then slamming it down again, knocking the fight out of her. "It's ok... I've fed tonight." She said reassuringly, before parting the girl's legs and pinning her thighs down with her considerable superior strength. "But there's always room for dessert." She admitted. Willow sank her fangs into the girl's mound, not trying to feed but just to pull enough that it would be hard for her prey to dislodge her. Willow's tongue snaked out and flicked directly against the teenager's exposed mound, lashing over it ferociously and gripping her asscheeks while it bucked, fought and screamed. She persevered until the screams cracked and became despairing, pitiful moans of capitulation and self-loathing. Grinning sadistically into the juicy little cunt she was devouring, Willow growled and picked up the pace further.

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

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

A lone figure sat in the dark of his basement laboratory, the only thing illuminating the area was the light of his computer monitor. On the monitor were several people dressed in elite fashion, business suits of the highest quality, some fine dresses, and some lab coats. They were all in video conference screens looking at only a shadowed figure. "Doctor," a woman began, "Is the serum you presented ready for sale yet?" The lone figure sat in silence for a moment thinking of what to say. Once the words were put together in his mind, he spoke. "Not yet," he said, his voice deep thanks to a voice modulator that was running. "I am still working out some minor details I need to work out on my newest test subject before it is ready." They all gave their own versions of threats about what would happen if he did not have it ready soon. It worried him little since he had enough money to keep him well secured. With that, he killed the video conference and stood up from his chair, turning on the lights revealing himself. He slicked back his silver hair (a result from one of his earliest chemistry experiments when he was an adolescent) to its normal style. He was Vergil Knight, the young hot shot CEO of Knight International, a chemical company that has supplied 85% of the world's chemical needs and even producing some of its own for sale. The company had three stellar quarters and was now the top company in its field. Vergil had managed to stay out of the spotlight since the company gained its fame, but the media was hell-bent on ending that, which was prevalent in this most recent event. Speaking of which, it was time to wake up his new test subject. He caught her snooping around twenty minutes ago and simply snuck up on her with the green rock Luthor sent him and bashed her on the head with it. She was out like a light. Thinking of what to do with her, a lightbulb went off in his head. He needed a new live test subject to work out some of his new serum - what better choice than her? With help from his lovely assistant, Dr. Tannis, he got her clothes off, and was surprised to see how big of a Superman fan she was. She had a full costume on underneath her clothes. He remembered scoffing at the idea, saying "Fan girls." He then strapped her into the injection machine, not yet putting the syringes in her. She was decent-looking, but this machine would make her more desirable in both appearance and personality. Thinking that now was the best time to start, he waltzed over to where she was still strapped in and patted her cheek, saying, "Rise and shine, princess, time to start." While he waited for her to wake up, he picked up the green rock that his new friend Lex Luthor sent him. There were a few more colored rocks in the package, but he had this green one in his hands when the girl snuck in. He moved back over and read the note that came with it: "In case any one with an S on their chest gets in your way.

The idea had been to do some stealthy sneaking. Sure, Kara could probably have burst into the lab, torn things apart, and revealed the evil scheme, but they didn't have enough information. The Batman had mentioned something about scoping out the area first, learning about the corporation and trying to uncover some details. Still, weeks had passed and the Batman hadn't gotten any further to actually giving the League anything resembling information. Sure, there had been that whole alien invasion thing and a few other details that cropped up first, but still, this was a frustration that bothered the League, Kara especially. So the blonde took a page out of her cousin's book. She dressed in a sensible enough-looking pantsuit, stole Lois's press credentials, and sneaked into the facility, pretending to be an intern. True, interns don't usually look as impressive as Kara. Still, she was hoping that the large, thick glasses and slouching would help, as well as the baggy blue suit she wore over her much more revealing costume. None of that stopped her from getting her head bashed in. One moment, she'd been sneaking along, digging about in her pockets for the small camera she'd taken with her; the next, darkness. Even now, as Kara blinked away the oppressive darkness, she wasn't sure what was going on. "Princess?" she repeated, her dazed mind latching onto a few words. She felt sick, physically ill, and far, far too weak. Kara shifted, trying to move her arms or legs. To her shock, she had been strapped down. Okay, being strapped wasn't that shocking for a super heroine. It was the fact that Kara's weak body couldn't break free of the confines that surprised the heroine. She struggled for a bit, her tanned muscles rippling with the effort. Nothing. Instead, the panting superheroine looked up at the man who spoke. Her blue eyes scanned him for a moment, and she seriously considered attempting her heat vision. Just as she was about to, however, Kara noticed what he held in his hand. The bound heroine moaned at the sight of the Kryptonite: a reflex action. His later words sank in, and the startled girl's eyes widened. He didn't know? She was a trim, attractive blonde with muscles rippling just about everywhere. Her tight blue half-shirt covered her impressive bust and most of her arms, but the brilliant yellow and red "S" should have been more revealing, at least to her identity. Then there was the short blue skirt and bright red boots. Hell, Karalookedlike Supergirl. How did he... No matter; she'd have to bluff him. What was the standard line? "You'll never get away with this!" she yelped, almost giggling at it. She might have, too, if not for the queasy feeling the rock gave her. "People know I'm here, and they'll be coming to get you any second!" She struggled again, trying not to look desperate as she pulled against the bindings. That blasted kryptonite was making it far, far too difficult to break free...

Lucy Heartfilia sighed, hand to her chin. The dress she had on looked nice, but she wasn't sure if this plum colored one was better than the blue one hanging off to the side. There was some sort of fancy to-do tonight, and some of the members of Fairy Tail were invited. Her included. Erza of course, who was going with Jellal under the guise of Mystogan and apparently attributing his covered face with a deformity that none needed to see. Gray, but of course Juvia had insisted that she go with him. And of course Natsu had Lisanna, which left Lucy pretty much dateless. Though there was one option left to her. But then again she had a feeling he might take this as meaning something it didn't. Still though, she didn't want to show up alone and get hit on by men much older than her. She laughed at the thought lightly. "I don't have much of a choice," she said to herself, pulling a familiar key out. "Gate of the Lion, I open thee!" she said, and waited on her Celestial Spirit to come forth to her. Though it was still hard to think of Loki that way, after all they had been through.

Loki, the Lion celestial spirit, was sitting around with Aries and Scorpio. There wasn't much to do where they were. Scratch that, there was so much to do that none of these three knew what to do. Gemini were cloning themselves as Aquarius and bothering her to the point that she would have the water attack, and Gemini would copy it and those three would go back and forth at it. Taurus was gawking at Virgo not that she wasn't fat and was to the liking of Lucy. The others were out doing what they wished to do. Loki and the other two were bored and nothing was really going on. "Is this really what we'll be doing if Lucy doesn't call for us?" Loki asked the other two. Aries had scooted closer to him and was about to lean against him when a calling was heard. Scorpio got up hoping it was him, but was immediately shut down. Loki grinned. "My princess is calling me. Cancer is always up for more subjects, have fun." Loki said with a laugh. He stepped through the gate and appeared before Lucy. Loki appeared in a black tuxedo and his arms open. "I have come to your call my princess! What can I do for you?" He said in an exaggerated tone.

Today was the beginning of the school year at Yokai Academy. Blake had been looking forward to classes starting, as he'd just transferred in. He had moved into his dorm the day before, just to make sure everything would go smoothly on the first day of classes. He was being brave, knowing he was surrounded by demons who cared little about humans. The young man was handsome, with blue eyes and dark blonde hair that matched his looks perfectly. It would have made an excellent disguise. He'd decided to attend Yokai after being pen pals with a vampire girl who also attended. He expected to meet her today. However, she was running late, so he had to wait until tomorrow. Oh well. He completed the day of classes and returned to his dorm. All of his classes seemed relatively easy, but he would need to be careful around certain demons who were more aware than others. He didn't want to end up dead.

Trees overhang the path, casting long shadows that would have been creepy if it wasn't for the fact that it was a given here at Yokai Academy. Underneath them a young woman stretched her arms high above her head, letting out a sleepy yawn as she rubbed at one of her eyes. It had been late the night before when she moved into her dormitory, making it where she barely had any time to sleep. At least she didn't really have to worry about the classes today. The beginning and the end of the year was always lenient and relaxed. No one bothered with teaching until the second week, maybe even the third. Maybe it was a good thing, being late That way, she missed out on all the boring lectures, all the silly rules each teacher expected everyone to remember. It was certainly a bonus in her eyes. Oh no! she gasped. She found out what time it was with a watch, and she forced her feet to move faster. I'm going to be late! Again! Long midnight-black tresses flowed back with the movement, the short uniform skirt flirting with her shapely thighs. She was a beautiful young woman, what with rather exotic features and ever-present smile. Don't ever push her buttons however. Behind the smile was a hot temper that flared bright whenever the fuse was lit. There was no reining it in once it was at that point. Quickly she ran into the room, panting slightly as she came to a stop. "I'm sorry I'm late," she told the teacher with a sheepish grin. A hand came up to idly tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The school uniform accentuated her full chest and wide hips, really showing off the model body she possessed with no effort on her part. "I'm Trinity Shadow.

Roguegroaned, rising slowly to a semi-upright position. The gothic teenager's held felt tight, as though her brain had swelled and now threatened to push her skull out of her head. She raised a gloved hand to palm her face, lowering her head just slightly. She pinched shut her gray-green eyes, seeing spots in the dark vision. Rogue took several deep breaths, sucking in the cool, dry air and trying to calm herself. Still, a tremble shook her lean form, her body trying to catch up to what her mind kept telling her. It just didn't make any sense, what happened, and simply thinking only made her brain feel as though it would swell more. The teenage mutant lowered her hand and pried open her eyes. Again spots swam in her vision, and Rogue blinked several times. 'Where th' hell am ah?' she wondered aloud, her eyes scanning. This certainly wasn't where she'd laid down: back in her bed at the mansion. That place had light colored walls lined with the posters of Kitty's favorite bands, not to mention Rogue's own bed. No, she wasn't home, not at the X-Mansion. Though she seemed to be wearing what she'd gone to sleep in: a long-sleeve shirt, dark green around her perky, apple-sized breasts, and a much lighter green as it worked out. She wore a pair of light gloves over her hands, having once slapped Kitty upon being awoken too rudely. The shirt did bare a slight expanse of Gothic white flesh, with abs hardened by hours of combat training. A pair of loose pajama pants, a darker green with little black skulls on them, covered Rogue's lower half. Yes, the Gothic beauty still wore what she'd slept in... except, something more. "What th'..." she wondered, feeling at her neck. Something light and metallic circled there, pressing against her skin. Rogue ran her fingers along it, finding no catch or clasp. A collar; a choker; definitely. Rogue felt panic well for a moment, turning her guts to ice. She didn't need signs to tell what had happened: she'd been taken, abducted, with a collar slapped on her, and then left alone in the room. Wait... alone? Rogue looked about, and saw what she'd hoped not to see laying only a few feet away. Katherine "Kitty" Pryde, a.k.a. Shadowcat lay sprawled out a few feet from Rogue, her arms and legs akimbo. The lithe teen was a year younger than Rogue, seventeen to eighteen, but they'd still managed something of an awkward friendship. Especially difficult given Kitty's eternally sunny disposition and Rogue's Gothic moodiness. Still, Rogue couldn't help but wince as she saw the pretty Jewish girl lying there. Kitty stirred as though brought awake by Rogue's gaze, shifting. She, too, wore her pajamas, though they bared more skin than Rogue's. A short pink shirt hung loose over the girl's petite body. It ended a little above Kitty's navel, showcasing the recent piercing the girl had gotten: a golden star of David that dangled from her belly button. A pair of matching pink shorts covered her body, leaving most of her lean legs on display. "Uggh, what happened?" the shifter asked, rising up slowly herself. "Not sure," replied Rogue, looking around. "We got teleported or somethin'. Looks like we have collars too." "What?" That got Kitty's attention, her hands flying to her throat. The girl frowned as she too felt the metal encircling there. "Oh no, no way. We're getting out of here, like, now. C'mon." Kitty rose to her feet, wobbling only for a moment. She hurried to grab Rogue's arm, careful not to get anywhere near bared skin. Then the energetic brunette dragged her Gothic friend toward the nearest wall. Kitty picked up pace as they drew closer and closer. Then, suddenly, she slammed into it, falling back on her butt with a little yelp of pain. "What the heck?" asked Kitty, rubbing her rear. Rogue watched for a moment before looking to the wall. She ran her hand along it, frowning, then looked back at Kitty. "That should have totally worked!" yelped Kitty, flinging her hands at the wall as though it had done that on purpose. "I was all like 'I'm gonna phase us right through' then whammo! Ouch," she winced as she rubbed her butt again, "my butt hurts." "Quit ya whinin'," said Rogue. She slid her glove off and walked over to Kitty. Reaching down, the Gothic teen yanked her friend back to her feet. "Hey! Careful there! I'm fragile and--and-- OH MY GAWD, ROGUE!" Kitty pointed at the other's free hand. "You're, like, like, did you just--" "No, ah didn't steal ya dance moves or nothin'," mumbled Rogue. She frowned, looking at her hand. She flexed it a few times. "Nothin'," she muttered, then brought it up to run along her collar. "Kitty..." "I can't believe this! It's just-- like, what the heck is ---" "Kitty!" "They're gonna find out! Who would be stupid enough to kidnap--Lance is gonna be--" "Kitty!" "Ugh, I just can't..." A loud smack cut off Kitty's words, and the stunned girl looked at her friend, holding her cheek. Rogue nodded, then gestured to the collar, tapping it a few times, "Somebody slapped this on us an' took our powers away or somethin'. They planned this." That made both girls stop, staring at each other. Who could manage something like that... and why? They swallowed hard, looking around the room. There didn't seem to be any entrances or exits, something both girls observed. Still, they searched as best they could, spending some time learning the nooks and crannies of the empty stone room. After a while, they had no other choice: they had to wait, wait and see who, or what, had done this.

It had begun. The return of the ancient mutant who had been locked away for generations. At one point seemingly forgotten within the passage of time. A mutant who had made his return not so long ago, only to be thwarted by the combined efforts of numerous mutants with normally conflicting interests. But that was before. The great evil had since returned. Wiser now to his enemies. Smarter with his approach, as the legendarily infamous mutant once known as En Sabah Nur, now better known as Apocalypse, had started carrying out his revenge upon the mutants who managed to vanquish him once before. But this was happening elsewhere. The initial attacks having been carried out systematically. Many missing, presumed captured or worse. Some had been reprogrammed and were visibly striking out against their former companions as his new Four Horsemen. Others, however, were missing without any known traces or signs of their whereabouts to X-Man or Brotherhood alumni alike. Two such figures were kept safely within a seemingly non-existent room. Accessible only to a lone figure, whose heavy footsteps filled the otherwise silent hallway which led to an unimposing wall. Standing before said wall, the legendary mutant gazed upon the wall, a sudden light shimmering within those intense eyes, which evidently triggered a mechanism as the ominous blue outline of a formerly non-existent door formed upon the stone wall. With a brief shaking noise, the door slowly lowered into the very ground itself, while likely drawing the immediate attention of the pair of teenage mutants who were presently sealed away inside. The dim light on the other side of the now open doorway may have cloaked the identity of the person on the opposite end of the wall, but it would only take a step or two forward, heavy footfalls signaling this arrival, before both X-Men finally set sight upon their new 'host'. Standing there, garbed in battle armor at present, Apocalypse would no doubt make for a rather disheartening sight to most mutants - whether or not they had access to their powers. Gazing upon the pair of females, the ancient mutant would allow a hint of amusement to mark his often stoic features, as the door behind him suddenly began closing following his entrance. For what was to come next, they need not run the risk of any unlikely interruptions. "So," the male spoke, his voice deep and booming with authority befitting his legacy, while observing the pair of teenagers, "I see you've both finally awoken from your sudden trip to your new home." A short pause, almost as if letting the last few words linger within their thoughts for a moment or two, before continuing, "To answer the first question you're certain to have, the two of you were transported here using one of the many devices available to myself which had been lost to the ages. The very same type of technology which now stiffens your mutant abilities through the collars you wear around your necks." Observing the pair, his eyes seemingly watching them like a predator would its prey, the ancient mutant further elaborated, "You were taken during the night. As part of my first wave of offense upon the mutants you call your friends. Whisked away from any physical danger right before the battle started. But also to keep you, in particular, out of the way." His eyes were directed toward Rogue following the last bit; remembering how the pale-complexioned gothic teen had managed to disable his abilities after 'borrowing' the powers of another mutant. There was a touch of malice behind his tone, as the otherwise stoic figure contemplated his personal enjoyment of what would happen to her in particular before addressing the bigger question, "As for why you're here. I've need for you both. For I see within you two a great potential for my future plans for this world." Slowly walking around the pair of teenagers, the imposing mutant wasn't even gazing directly toward them as he clarified, "No, you won't be reprogrammed into my Horsemen. Instead, I have far different plans for a couple of healthy, pretty, young mutants such as you both." Without any visible signs of trying to trigger something, both Rogue and Kitty would suddenly find two sets of formerly unseen holes open up near their legs, as glowing white metal tendrils would suddenly shoot out to wrap around their legs. The tendrils kept the pair within their current place for now, as Apocalypse turned his head, watching the young X-Men, while plainly stating his intentions, "You two shall be the first of many breeders for my new world. Each used for carrying within yourselves the perfect offspring of selected mutant males whom will offer you their seed." The very idea of this was likely sickeningly terrifying for the teens, even while his as yet unspoken mind control began to make its subtle touches upon their impressionable young minds. With their legs bound, the large figure was able to slowly step closer, narrowing the gap between them, while adding with a hint of personal enjoyment as he revealed to them both, "In your cases, you shall also be made to offer up your bodies, minds and very souls to the personal enjoyment and carnal pleasures of myself. From this day onward, until the very end of your formally insignificant lives." Letting this added promise sink in for the girls, Apocalypse reached out with his large, powerful hand - clasping his fingers upon Rogue's bare chin, letting her feel what warmth there was within his cyborg body, while addressing both teens with a rather rhetorical, "Do you hold any reservations over this new arrangement?

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

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

Nightwing had been stalking the city streets of Gotham for the past month. Word was that a recent string of break-ins and robberies were being committed by a group of men that had gone missing last month. The men had been good at covering their tracks and disabled security cameras before breaking into the places that they hit. However, the places they hit did have one thing in common - they were all chemical plants. What went missing were only small samples of various chemicals, but Nightwing was more concerned with the wellbeing of the men who went missing. Now he was following the group of twelve men from their latest theft. His black and dark blue armored uniform blended in with the night sky, giving him a chance to conceal his movements from above. The five foot ten inch tall man moved from roof to roof silently and without a trace. He watched as the group of men entered a small green house. His masked blue eyes narrowed as he reached for his grapple gun and swung across the line in a black and blue blur to the building and landed on the roof lightly. His black boots not making a sound. Creeping over to the center of the greenhouse, he knelt down and watched as the men set down their score in front of Poison Ivy. Nightwing wasn't surprised due to the relation of the thieves; he strained to listen to the voice of the woman as she spoke. Not able to make out what she was saying, he reached into his gauntlet to withdraw a listening device as he did so, the glass under him started to crack. Before he could react, the glass gave way under his weight, being placed on the center of glass for too long, and he fell hard on his back behind the men dazed. The fall caused him to land on his left side and injure his shoulder before his head smacked into the ground. Dazed struggled to roll to his hand and knees. "Unnnghh... smooth hero...

It had never been hard for Ivy to convince men to do her bidding. Even without her chemicals, so many men aimed to please. Now, these were completely under her bidding, each hoping to have a chance to sleep with the gorgeous woman that stood before them. Chemicals laid out on the table, Pamela smiled, her long, silken red hair hung around her shoulders and over her chest. She was wearing her typical attire, a green leotard-like outfit, covered in greenery, though with plenty of cleavage. Her green boots went to just about her knees, green tights finishing the ensemble. Her green boots went to just about her knees, green tights finishing the ensemble. The crash had startled her, though not completely. The glass was made to withstand very little body weight on a concentrated area, in case someone like Batman decided to drop in. And honestly, that had been her goal. The chemicals were nice, and certainly they'd allow her to do more manipulation on her plants, make them stronger, but the goal had been to lure Batman here. Instead, the boy wonder lay on her floor, looking rather pathetic at the moment. The men made a movement to grab him, and Ivy let two of them snatch him, holding him up by his arms and wounded shoulder, showing little sympathy for the injured crusader. Ivy casually walked towards Dick, a smirk on her pretty red lips, swaying her hips from side to side, casually, "My my my what do we have here? Little pup lost his way?" She reached out with a gloved hand and gently traced her fingers along Dick's face, leaning in close, "Poor child can't have you listening in on all my secrets. Not the one I expected but you'll do. For now." She grinned, removing her hand suddenly and making a motion, "Take him inside, dose him with Borealis inside and leave him in my room. I have a feeling he won't be going anywhere." Of course, Ivy's own home was typically pumping with different gasses, ones that helped her breathe and survive, but would potentially harm anyone unused to them. The plant he would be dosed with would allow him to survive longer, but would keep him in a daze and imprint a desire for her pheromones inside of him. It was quite an interesting little piece she had designed.

Selina Kyle awoke to find her mate lying beside her, still asleep. She smiled at his face, and gently kissed his cheek before getting up for the day. She moved silently, her footsteps just like her namesake, as she grabbed some clean underwear and then headed to the bathroom. She turned on the water, and stuck her hand under the flow, waiting for the water to warm up, before she stepped into the shower. Once inside, she sighed as the hot water pounded away at sore muscles. After the last couple of days, she'd been thinking about talking to Bruce about going on a vacation, just the two of them. Somewhere hot and private. She closed her eyes, and as the water cascaded down on her skin, she slid her own hand down between her legs.

Bruce was looking at an attractive picture of his partner, Selina, as he was getting himself adjusted to the morning light that was brought by the sun. Selina was so sexy in every way in Bruce's mind. He woke up finally, hearing pleasure-filled moans escape from the couple's bathroom. Bruce thought it best not to disturb his beloved while she was bathing. Instead, he focused his mind on the picture, or attempted to do so anyway... His mind faded back and forth, between the events that apparently took place in his dreams and the events that were currently presenting themselves. Selina desired pleasure, but Bruce, in his current state, could not provide her with it. Therefore, the ex-Catwoman resorted to the scene in the shower. Accepting this fact, the ex-Batman tried his best to relax and let the seductive picture that he held in his left hand fill his mind with lusty thoughts. Bruce soon meditated himself into a deep sleep. During the sleep, he experienced a "wet dream", probably from the thoughts that the photograph and current status of his beloved Selina induced. Regardless of the reason however, Bruce woke with the odd sensation of soaked underwear. He needed to change them. Seeing as how he was alone in the room and therefore, had privacy, the muscular man decided to strip himself bare and change into a new pair of underwear. Then, he re-clothed himself with the previously worn pajamas, for they were still dry. After this, Bruce felt the need to use the toilet within his bathroom, but decided to let his bladder suffer while he waited for his beloved Selina to finish bathing herself in the sure-to-be-warm water. Felines were not supposed to like bathing, but apparently Selina did.

Cammy White had been selected for this mission because she was the best that British Intelligence had. This was a one-man job (or in Cammy's case, a one-woman job), and they needed someone who was not only an expert marksman but also a fighter. Cammy had an arsenal of ass-kicking moves that could leave a trail of broken bodies; some people said her skills were deadlier than any handgun that the agency could provide. Guns made a noise. Cammy didn't - or at least, not when she was fighting. Her mission was to infiltrate an enemy fortress known as Shadaloo, run by an evil tyrant named General M. Bison and his army. It was going to be difficult, there was no denying that. Cammy had prepared herself both mentally and physically for what to expect, and she was an expert at solo missions. She didn't need anyone to watch her back; she was more than capable of looking out for herself. She had been dropped off a short distance away from the base, meaning she had to walk the rest of the way. In fact, it gave her some time to practice her skills as she happened upon a small guard post along the road, where two soldiers were standing having a chat, having no idea of who was watching them from the bushes. It was far too late, and it took only a matter of seconds for the petite woman to leap from the jungle and knock the pair out. She hoped the rest of the mission would be this easy...

A bulky figure stood silhouetted in the glow of TV monitors. The fearsome Sagat glowered even fiercer than usual at the images flickering before him. He watched as a small, lithe, pigtailed girl made a mockery of his mercenaries - and it insulted him beyond measure. The casual, contemptuous way she disposed of them was irritating enough, but the fact she was a white girl made it all the more abhorrent to him. He snarled like a chained dog, lips curling in a feral frustration. "I am risking a lot on this little stunt of yours, Bison, and I am not enjoying the show." The hypnotic tones of Bison's voice sounded from the gloom. "Settle down, my old friend! This is just the titillation before the main feature. And when that beautiful creature is in our hands I promise you first go. On my honor." His broad face split in an ugly, oily smirk as his white teeth flashed in the dark. Sagat looked back up at the monitors. He watched Cammy running right into their trap, her taunt body pumping with energy. "I want to fight her," he growled. "I want to beat her. I want to break her." Leather creaked and silk rustled as Bison lent forward, eyes glowing with lustful intent. "This girl has humiliated me, and the pride of Shadaloo, far too many times. Now it is going to be her turn. When she enters the Citadel, you can be the welcoming party, and from there it will be our purpose to turn Cammy White into a mockery of a woman." Sagat threw off his jacket and loosened his shoulders. "She'll be through that last rabble soon enough. I had better get up there and prepare to greet her." Cammy White Bison and Sagat

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

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

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

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

Hey kiddies! I just woke up to find my whole place INFESTED with Stinkhoppers! They are making a total mess of my attic and I'd be just sooooo grateful if Kenny could come over and take care of them for me. I have a whole batch of pies for him if he agrees! Let me know soon. Ta-ta!" Mom put down her phone and nodded with a smile. "All set! Now to make sure everything is ready...." Her home was in ways similar to her daughters Tree Fort. As impressive as the fort was, it severely lacked any form of maturity. Mom's home was also carved out of a massive tree, only her tree was intelligent, and could speak if you knew how to listen. Her furniture was carved right out of the tree's interior and padded with pillows and decorative blankets. Her whole place was one massive open area, separated by levels, silk curtains, and stairs. Her kitchen was right in the middle, carved into the core of the tree, and even featured a well stocked bar. With that Mom went about her business of tidying up her home. She was wearing a lovely orange summer dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. It ended midway up her bust, where two yellow straps went over her shoulders. Much of her ample cleavage was exposed, as well as her rich, well tanned skin. Anytime the light caught her dress one could easily see her figure through the thin fabric. She was mature in all the right ways, and youthful in the same. Her DD cups were still quite perky for her age, and her thick behind practically begged to be touched beneath her dress. She didn't mind, it made her feel young, and she was plenty attractive enough to pull the look off. At the moment her luscious platinum blonde hair was pulled back and tied up, but that was only because she was cleaning. Normally it hung free, straight down to her hips. She moved a number of pies from her massive oven onto a bar and surveyed the place with her big, green eyes. "Pies...check. Beverages....check..." She made a big batch of ice cold lemonade...with a moderate amount of alcohol mixed in. "...cleaning...check. Jizz-proofing on the furniture....check. Birth control....check!" Mom was ready in full, and very much looking forward to Kenny's visit.

Bella was out of the Tree House for the moment, doing whatever it was that she did when she decided to not include Kenny in her escapades. He assumed anything, but for the moment he was entertaining himself with the thought that she was having a underwear swapping party with Princess Bubblegum. Not that he'd ever seen it, but he was sure they were doing it. Or something like that anyway. His round shape was rolling down the floor from the kitchen down to the coach in the living room. He was fully intending to enjoy his cheese-bacon-captain Morgan crepe, almost hovering over head as he let it pass form one tentacle to the next, keeping it directly over his body as he rolled onwards and nothing was going to stop him. His half-way closed eyes spoke volumes. He was tired, and he had made plans for the day. He was going to enjoy himself with a snack, he would play some games, watch old films, and then he'd use the magic crystal ball to peek on the Lake Nymphs. Then something happened. The phone bleeped, and a message came up. "Hey kiddies! I was just calling because I woke up today to find my whole place INFESTED with Stinkhoppers! They are making a total mess of my attic and I'd be just sooooo grateful if Kenny could come over and take care of them for me. I have a whole batch of pies for him if he agrees! Let me know soon. Ta-ta!" Kenny stopped mid roll, causing some of the sloppy contents of his first chapter of his carefully planned slacker day to splash on the wooden floor in front of him. Kenny frowned hard. It was Mom. How the fuck was he going to say no to Mom of all people? His eyes glanced up to the crepe... Then to the phone with the promise of Mom's pies. He just knew deep in his small, black heart that there would be pie.Mom's fucking pie. A mouth took shape seemingly just for the sake so that he could grit his teeth in a grimace. He rolled backwards again, keeping his snack above him just as before, then placed it on the counter in the kitchen. "Next time, little one. Next time." He rose up, still maintaining that ball-shaped body, but his 10 tentacles took the shape of a pair of running legs and small atrophied arms. He swung them part back and forth as he legged it to Mom's house. He was panting by the time he was there, and he kicked in the door. "DON'T BE ALARMED MA'AM, PEST CONTROL IS HERE!" He had the biggest grin on his face, and now he had shaped his body into a big, muscular beefcake of a man. But he had his face, which was nothing more than a toothed mouth and two eyes, right below where a head should be. He kept his fists on his hips and looked around, expecting Mom to be just as happy to see him and ready to dispense of pie as usual. Then he noticed the strange lining on all the furniture. "Huh. I think I've seen that before...

Click clack... click clack... Alice felt the corners of her lips tug into a tiny smile as she roamed the all too quiet halls of Hatter Mansion. They were deathly quiet, though she knew such silence wouldn't last forever. It never would. It never did. At that, she let out a tiny puff of breath and tilted her head. Curious was the sensation as the air passed over her lips and the soft sigh rolled out of her mouth. Just then, her smile broadened. It made her wish that quiet moments such as this came more frequently. But sadly, her life was far from quiet and calm. She hadn't known such things since falling down the rabbit hole. Alice almost laughed, a tiny burbling bubble working its way up her throat as she continued to walk down the hall seemingly alone. But was she alone? No. She hadn't truly been alone since venturing into Wonderland. Ah, but that was the truth of it all! She hadn't ventured anywhere! She'd been taken! Snatched up from her nap and whisked away to a chaotic world where nothing made sense yet everything... did. No. Nothing did. She wanted to go home! Home? But what was home any more? What was there to go home to? Honestly, she was starting to wonder about that sometimes. Oh Peter, why did you bring me here? What was the purpose? And why do you... Just then, Alice felt a sharp pang in her head. The pain settled behind her one eye, bold and sharp like a knife driving deeply into her skull. She let out a small groan and sighed as she raised her hand to push at her blonde hair, moving it aside so that she could rub at her one eye, at her temple. Finally, the pain eased and she felt slightly better. Smiling again, she continued her walk and relished the silence that wouldn't last, silence that probably wouldn't come again for a very long time. Time. Just how much had truly passed? Alice had to wonder. But no matter. Things were as they'd become and she'd started to accept that. After all, in many ways, she had no choice. At least she was safe. For now. She just wished she understood the why of everything, but then maybe that was the purpose of her visit to Wonderland. Maybe that was why she was there and had to be there. Then again, sometimes... some things... were just unexplainable.

He had to find her again. It was an obsession that was growing steadily within his ticking heart. She fascinated him unlike anyone else in Heart or Clover. Her heart beat changed while his remained the same regardless of his panting breaths or growing emotions. It was like catnip or music to his senses, that changing heartbeat of hers. Plus, it helped that she grew so flustered from his blatant advancements and words. As he walked between doorways in time, he come upon the door that linked to her room in Hatter Mansion, the one he desperately wanted to link to his own room but he would wait until she told him she was lonely. He wanted her to be lonely, to give in to him, but he had to be patient. He had to be. Cats were great yet terrible at being patient. Why was she at Hatter Mansion, anyways? Did she like that mafia lord so much? It bugged him. It made him jealous. He didn't like being jealous. He also didn't like knowing that despite Alice enjoying Wonderland, she wasn't fully committed to being here. To staying here. She still had some regret and some desperate want for home. He had to erase that...He had to keep her here...where he could be with her. "Dammit, Alice..." Boris said, ears twitching with his growing unrest. Opening the door to one of the hallways in Hatter Mansion, Boris decided to check the place out. They couldn't stop him. Time was part of his job here after all. Tail swaying behind him as he walked, The Cheshire Cat known as Boris tried to figure out where his obsession had wandered off to. It was oddly quiet in the mansion, considering the idiot twins were usually ranting and raving and making obscene amounts of noise while Blood Dupre and his right hand were always talking about their next conquest and assassination. Where was the sleepy mouse anyways? Boris could use some more play time-- Ah! There she was. Boris blinked as he watched Alice, not quite making his presence known yet. She was...smiling. It made him blush as he watched the smile light up her face and yet he was jealous. She was probably thinking of some other man in Wonderland to have that smile on her face. He had to fix it! "Alice!" He called out, coming out from where he was. He walked right up to her and cupped her chin, waiting for her to either pull away, blush, or be flustered at him. It was usually all three. "You were smiling. What were you thinking about? Was it Blood? You are living here and not with me, you know." He said almost accusatory as his ears lowered slightly and he gave her a glare, showing his jealously. He wanted Alice all to himself...he didn't want to lose that music.

The violet-haired high schooler took a deep breath and continued her kendo, wielding her wooden sword. The sun was setting, and she had taken off her white and green uniform to something more loose - a shorter skirt and tight, short-sleeved shirt. Saeko, who had been practicing for at least three hours, kept going as if her strength and stamina never diminished. Some dirt stuck to her ankles and cheeks, enough to be noticeable. The girl kept spinning and slicing at the dummy before her, unaware of anyone or anything near her. She was the type who you could say got "in the zone" easily.

The young, busty blonde-haired woman watched from a distance as the tall, long, straight, and shiny purple-haired high school girl threw out her weapon to train. Her relatively long limbs gave her leverage for powerful sword swings that made Shizuka's eyes sparkle with admiration. Saeko was so strong-willed and very admirable. Shizuka's heart raced as she bit her lip and looked at her. Her hands shook as she slowly approached her, taking small steps. She then made a light gulping sound, wondering if she had already been caught. She wanted to get a better look at Saeko's form, and curiosity struck her now.

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

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

Prince S'chn T'gai Spock was irritated. Even if his face showed nothing but a cool, impassive mask; inside he was nearly seething with malice. His rival, Ston, had dared to challenge him to an a'woon battle. Of course the incompetent male had lost, Spock had barely found it a challenge to his skills to take down the other Vulcan. Quickening his pace to the edge of propriety's limit, the crown prince rounded a corner, finding himself in the palace's lavish waiting room outside the main hall. His father had summoned him here, his father did not like to be kept waiting. Usually someone got flogged if the delay was long enough. Pushing open the heavy wood doors, Spock strode into the room, his dark chocolate-colored eyes sweeping around the enclosure to clear it for threats. Noticing his father lounging in his throne, a slim silver chain held loosely in his hand brought a small amount of curiosity blooming to the surface of the half-Vulcan's mind, even more fascinating was the slim female attached to that chain sitting on the floor. Approaching the throne of his father, Spock held out the customary salute, bowing his head respectfully to the elder Vulcan. "Live long and prosper, father," he said. "You summoned me?

The elder man acknowledged his son with a nod; he'd seen the eyes flit over the female at his side. But the idea of this gift being given was bound to have a more profound effect. "Yes," he said, "I did. It has been brought to my attention that I have too many slaves to attend to, too many women that this latest addition is being gifted to you." His own chocolate eyes moved down the chain to the female form attached to the other end. Indula had barely spoken to the man since she arrived. She answered questions when asked but offered no other information. She was the latest of gifts sent to other kingdoms, as a way to have them pledge their allegiance to Geniva 4. She wasn't sure where to call home truthfully and could offer nothing to that area. She sat with her legs folded beneath her on the floor, a simple grey shift swarmed her body but the fabric was almost sheer allowing her body to be seen. Round breasts to fill an average males hand stood proud upon her chest, the darker nipples were peaked due to the cooler temperature of the room. Curious mint green eyes stared up at the younger male that entered, a bit of fear welled in them when she understood this was her new owner. Looking away her odd mix of dark blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and curtained her face off. Though the sight wrinkle of spiked bones that crested forward from her head only added to her beauty, it kept her from being entirely hidden. Her skin had a slight coppery tan sheen to it. Her mutt race mixture caused her origin to be questioned, though one could never deny that she wasn't a sight to behold. The older man stood and guided the woman to her feet using her chain. She stood taller than most women at 5'10", but she was still not as tall as wither male. Her hands held the fabric at her sides as her eyes closed and reopened to focus on his face. She knew what was expected of her but still the sense of fear welled up, she didn't know what to expect. The man made her turn, her slight curves showing as she moved. Her hands held raised plates of bone as well, same as her head, though she wasnt trained to fight and would use them for such. Her chain was handed off and she held her breath. Speak your name girl! The order came in short and clipped. I am Indula of Geniva 4, She spoke soft but clear. I am a gift to earn your favor. She wished to say more, but to beg her new master for his kindness would fall on what she thought would be deaf ears.

Dimitra walked around the slave cells before the auction, looking at the Utes over to find someone who sparked her interest. Most were humans or half-humans, which bored her. She preferred the more exotic. Being a dragon shaman/adept, she was exotic herself. Being a drow among the base nobility made her even more so.

Natu Running Deer shivered naked in the cold. How she got here was unclear. As was where HERE was. She had been walking the streets of her small city, getting to know the local spirits when pain exploded in her head. Now she was in a strange place with her sex exposed to the world. She was lithe, small-breasted and tall. Amber eyes and silver hair rounded out her fine features. She was half Ute and half Sidhe. But more exotic was the large penis hanging between her legs with her womanhood.

Timothy had never even seen a night elf, but oh had he heard the stories about their women! While mopping floors and washing mugs at The Gilded Rose, the fourteen year old had heard things that never should have reached the ears of a child his age. Fortunately, the young lad had not understood much of the sexual slang used by the salty sailors who drank there, but it had certainly piqued his interest! Enough so that he began saving up his money for the journey that he was dreaming to make... And now, there he was, standing at the gates of Darnassus! The scrawny youth ran a hand through his short blonde hair as his bright blue eyes gazed at the surroundings. "It's so different from Stormwind!" he thought to himself as he began wandering the streets, but it wasn't long before his gaze would shift from the architecture to the curvaceous bodies of the women going about their business in the city. "I wonder where are all the men?" he asked out loud as he quickly noticed there were none to be found. The human boy had little time to ponder this question as he felt a sharp tug on his arm, pulling him into a building before anyone else noticed his presence. He was the only human in the entire city, as well as the only male, which made him a very valuable "guest". Timothy gasped as he was pulled into the building, the door of which was quickly closed behind him. His shock turned to awe as he marveled at the marbled opulence of the interior, filled with statues and paintings of night elf women clad in little to leave to the imagination. Though he thought it strange that the building's exterior was rather nondescript. "Welcome to the Gilded Thighs," a voice spoke out from behind him. Timothy immediately whirled around to face the one who had grabbed him, a figure clad in a hooded robe. "This is a brothel. You do know what a brothel is, right dearie?" A wide grin formed on Timothy's face as he nodded his head yes. It was the place he had been searching for! "Come, dearie, I have many girls who would be interested in meeting you," the robed figure told him as she put an arm around his shoulders and began leading him into a room.

If Timothy thought the entranceway grand then the room Erenia led him into would be another shock. While the spacious common area of the pleasure den lacked the statues and paintings that decorated that first room it did contain what many would consider a much more pleasing sight. The chamber was no less opulent than the entrance with piles of downy pillows embroidered in mithril and gold spread over the floor and no less sexualized with the dozen odd Night Elves reclining upon them, all of them shapely women. Heads turned and glowing eyes widened as the young man entered. With so many males adventuring away from Darnassus or wandering the emerald dream and the lack of tourism to Darnassus the sight of any man was a rare one. The women in the brothel had gotten the money they needed on a small but steady stream of female customers and the infrequent visits of sailors and the occasional alliance defence force but while they could keep their pockets heavy enough to satisfy their lifestyles the time that passed between those highly anticipated visits left many of them wishing for the very thing that had brought them to this profession in the first place. Put simply, the women of the Gilded Thighs wanted men, and they wanted them bad. That Timothy was far more a boy than a man made little difference to them and it was only the sharp look that Erenia swept across the room and their own patience and willpower that held them back from mobbing him all at once. The room was dead silent as not one of the women dared move a muscle until a sudden movement drew attention. From behind a dusky-purple girl a lighter skinned night Elf woman with teal hair moved into view, her yellow eyes fixing Timothy in their gaze as she rose and stepped forwards. Unlike the other girls who wore 'clothing' that left their breasts bared for all to see and enhanced their already inhuman curves this woman covered herself with a veil, concealing her face and body beneath silken cloth that shifted with her movements, hinting at her curves without ever truly showing them, enticing without baring all for everyone to see. Erenia frowned, as did several of the other girls. She alone knew the woman that lay behind those veils but all the women looking on were equally perplexed. Tyrande Whisperwind was better known to those who ventured within the Gilded thighs as 'Yanara' and she was widely considered one of the best whores the house had to offer while simultaneously being notoriously picky with those she chose to take into her room. To see her reveal herself so was quite unusual in and of itself alone.

The sweet scent of blood and death permeated the air. Nathar breathed in and smiled. The burned and broken remains of the village lay scattered about him and he looked around at the devastation proudly. Blood dripped from his daemonic right hand, the iron claws slick with the fluid. Blood spattered his uniform and his face. He licked it off the corners of his lips and closed his eyes, savoring it. "Men," He barked, walking over the corpses of the men and women he had slaughtered, their flesh squelching under his boot. "Good work here today." His men (and women), numbering some thirty in all, cheered. Some of them were all human in appearance, while the worst was nothing more than a pulsating mass of fangs, tentacles and claws, mutated beyond recognition by the whim of their God. They were all devotees of the Lord of Rage, all former servants of the False Emperor, who had seen the light and forsaken the twisted laws of that vile edifice. He was proud of them. This village had failed to see that light. They had still worshipped the False Emperor, even after Nathar had ripped the skin off of their priest and sent it to them as a peace offering. They had paid for their insolence with their lives. They had come at noon and surrounded the village. Then the massacre had begun. Most of his soldiers were enjoying the spoils of battle, feasting on the corpses of the hapless villagers. A few used them for release. Nathar allowed them this small breach of discipline. They had earned it. They had shown no mercy, not to the babe in arms, not to the eldest grandmother; all their blood had flown freely. He walked up to the Imperial shrine, now broken and shattered. He smiled, knowing that his God would be well pleased with the offering made him today. But it was not enough. Tomorrow, they would strike the clan of Hoarfrost, not five leagues from here. Surely, the word of this massacre would spread and the warriors of the clan would be ready. There may even be some PDF members stationed with them. All the better. Any true devotee of Khorne enjoyed a challenge. They would be a worthy offering for Khorne. Nathar smiled, envisioning the slaughter they would enact. It will be a beautiful day.

The psychic scream that echoed from the feral world was not left unnoticed by the Inquisition, in fact they had been monitoring the planet for months in suspicion of potential Chaos cult activity. Using intelligence reports from the scouts they sent, the Inquisition triangulated the position of the village that was destroyed to any nearby settlement, confirming that the cultists' next target would be Hoarfrost, a relatively larger village with a contingent of PDF. These guards would surely offer no resistance to the marauders, so the Inquisition's answer was to send out a kill team tasked with eliminating the Chaos threat. Inquisitor Ivy of the Ordo Malleus was tasked with taking charge of the village and its available men at arms, accompanied by a squad of Imperial Guardsmen seconded on this special assignment. Inquisitor Ivy geared up and recited her rites as she prepared for departure. After reciting her rites in her private convent, she boarded the shuttle along with the Guardsmen squad. While inside the shuttle, the guardsmen with all their resolve tried not to be tempted at the sight of Inquisitor Ivy, for her gear featured less modesty. The guardsmen didn't even want to think about it, knowing that the Inquisitor could read their minds, and if she caught even the slightest thought about her feminity, she would surely flay them alive. Upon arriving in the said village, Inquisitor Ivy made no time in sitting down and relaxing, she overseered all of the PDFs and increased their patrols on the walls and intensified the nightwatch patrol. She spoke to some survivors from the village that was recently destroyed and interrogated them about the chaos cultists and their alignment, the survivors told her that the cultists ravaged the village horrendously and taking enjoyment on the killing, they also said that the one leading them wore a guardsmen uniform and featured a mutated body. From this information, Ivy ruled out that the cultists were khornate aligned chaos minions. As Ivy is checking parts of the village, she did not know that she is being observed by a chaos cultist disguised as a servitor, he looked like a bald old man with mechanical appendages and gear on his back, his face looked greasy and with thick long mustache, hell, his facial appearance could be mistaken for a White Scar Astarte. The cultist spy used his ocular goggles to see through Ivy's apparel, he sees Ivy's pristine flesh and her soft knicker that covered her womanhood, going further, he looks through her panty and sees her prized flesh, he is observing Ivy's body in 3 different viewing screens, one is with clothing, second is only with the underwear and third is completely naked. The cultist spy recorded all the alluring beauty that he has seen from the Inquisitor and heads out of the village via secret tunnel located on the dump site of the village to submit his voyeur report to Nathar to alert him that this woman poses a significant threat on his conquest.

It was a dark and cold night in Gotham, it had just rained so fog had set over the city. People were home in their beds unaware of what was going on down below in the bowels of the city. Young Lynx was making her way down an alleyway after just slaughtering some thug who was trying to take her money. She was no normal girl; she had the power to control the elements as well as metal claws and flesh that healed at once. She was a small girl about 5'4 1/2 only weighing about 120lb. She had long blonde hair that fell down between her shoulder blades in a long braid, her eyes were dark brown with cat-like, slitted pupils. She also had canine teeth that stuck out of her mouth depending if she was angry or not. Right now she was walking in the dark wearing her leather jacket, blue Union Jack shirt, a pair of jeans and a red pair of Converse high tops. She suddenly stopped at the end of the alleyway seeing the end had been blocked. Lynx looked around her, her eyes scanning the darkness for danger. Ever since she had left the pub she was staying at, she had sensed someone was following her. She sniffed the air now, her mouth turned into a snarl and she let out a low growl looking around her. Suddenly she felt a heavy net land on her pinning her to the ground. She growled again only to let out a pained snarl when a goon plunged a pole through her stomach pinning her to the ground. "Got her like you wanted boss," he yelled staring down at Lynx then someone in the shadows. "Get the fuck off of me right now!" Lynx growled and slammed the goon into a wall using a fireball. She suddenly felt a jab in her neck, a drug hit her instantly weakening her. Once whoever had captured her put a certain collar around her neck, Lynx was owned by them.

An audible clapping echoed around the downed woman, and from the darkness came a man in a purple suit with a wicked white face and red grin. "Now now now...don't put this kitty down boys. Just make sure she gets a flea bath," he said, sticking his foot into her body a few times with hard kicks. Then suddenly he stopped and dropped to his hands and knees just a few inches from her face. "I have been keeping my eye on you. Ever since Harley left...well I haven't felt the same. I need a woman in my life and you will do just fine." He licked the side of her face through the net and snapped his fingers, calling his thugs to pick her body up and dump it in the back of an ice-cream truck and take off down the road. Once at his "laugh factory" hideout, the Joker stuck another needle in her neck to keep her subdued while his men dragged her around in the net. The entire time, his hungry red eyes kept locked on her. His hands rubbed together while the "gears" in his head turned. The Joker had been working with Scarecrow gas and Joker Venom to make a new drug that would be administered from a collar he had set up for the woman. It should make her very compliant with his demands. Stopping the men in front of the Joker strapped the woman to a medical table and walked off to prep for other things, leaving just Lynx and the Joker. The Joker dug around under the table until he found the reversed spiked collar. "Now kitty, try to understand. We do this because we love you. And this will hurt you more than it will hurt us," he joked before forcing the thin spikes into the sides of her neck and making sure the collar was secured. The moment the clasps connected, the venom went to her bloodstream, and the Joker sat on her hips while she was stuck to the table. "Now....how do we feel?

The war was finally over. Three years of fighting, suffering, all over. Commander Shepard barely made it out alive along with her friends. They lost and gained many friends through their journey on the Normandy, but for Shepard, Garrus was her best friend. He was there when Kadian broke her heart. There when she truly needed someone to fight Saren, the Collectors, Cerberus, and finally the Reapers. She couldn't ask for a better friend. Even now, while living in the apartments of the rebuilding Citadel, she sees him every day. He's always there and of course, her best friend.

Garrus was more or less trapped on the Citadel as the Mass Relays were rebuilt and repaired. Which was fine with him, he had a big promotion waiting for him back on Palaven and he was glad to drag his feet when it came to going home. Promotions meant paperwork; and Garrus certainly didn't want to spend his fighting years behind some desk playing with politicians. But the Citadel wasn't that bad of a place to be, especially since Shepard was here: the company was nice, the view was even better. Even though she was soft, squishy, and so...alien, Garrus felt himself drawn to her. It was hard for him to deny that he had feelings for the human any longer. She had almost died when activating the Crucible...and he had been too worried about ruining their friendship to tell her that he loved her...he wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He had lost her to Kaidan, lost her to the Collectors, had almost lost her to the Reapers. And now she was famous with suitors following her around all over the place! He needed to do something, and fast. So he had invited her over for dinner and to watch the Skyball game. Hopefully a little alcohol would make him brave enough to make a move on her this time.

Eliana Silverstein was in a good mood, a very good mood, she got to go hunting with her boyfriend tonight. Word had it that some vampires were breaking the law, feeding on humans, and rumors were also floating around that a coven, or as she liked to call them "the minority that makes the majority look bad," were planning on...well, nobody really knew, but something had to be done to rescue them, so naturally, the Clave sent her and her boyfriend to solve the problem.

The best thing about hunting wasn't the actual thrill of the chase, or even of the kill for that matter. No, thought Vincent Archambault. Though hunting certainly had its perks - the rush, the job well done - The best thing about hunting was the post-hunt roll in the hay. So when the Clave sent him and his girlfriend, the lovely and talented Eliana, to a supposed coven to take out its supposed vampire inhabitants, he was there in a heartbeat. "You womenfolk sure take your time getting ready," he said to Eliana as he climbed in through her window.

It was storming that day that he came to D-City. Heavy rains. Lightning storms. Not even any ghosts were out and about. Though one curious bolt of lightning hit the ground hard just a few moments away from the church. It lasted for several seconds rather than a half second like lightning normally did. And in the aftermath, a young man stood, looking determined as he looked toward the church. Making his way there, he readjusted his gloves as he approached the front doors, and began to knock on it. He was sent there to keep an eye on two angels that had less than admirable actions taking place on Earth. They were there to hunt ghosts but they were abusing their position and were not sending a good image of angels to the rest of D-City. He knocked harder...and harder. He grew annoyed that Garterbelt would not hear him. He was about to knock again until he heard something laughing. "Chuck chuck chuck chuck". He looked down to see...this green looking dog-like doll laughing. He grew annoyed...temper rising and he picked up the creature and balled his fist before punching the door hard, breaking them down and causing Chuck to become split in half from the impact. He knew of Chuck and his regenerating powers and often hated the vile creature. Walking in, he looked around. Empty. Not even Garterbelt? Where was he? A small cry came from his room. "G-Get! Aaaah!" He just barely moved out the way to see a young redhaired boy run out into the rain as Garterbelt descended a flight of stairs. "Bout time. Them angels need an ass kicking or two!" He said boomingly as he headed out into the rain after Brief. Glove sighed...and proceeded upstairs. "Angels Stocking and Panty! Present yourselves!

Panty opened her eyes begrudgingly as she was prodded in the ribs by her younger sister's finger. "Get up ho-bag, someone's yelling at us and its not Garter for a change." Stocking mumbled in her normal grim tone. Her hair was in a toss and her face was as unglamourous as un-glamour can be for Stocking. Though she still managed to have a certain cuteness to her that not even morning sleep in your eye could stop that. "Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?" Panty snorted, her face barely coming from the pillow. "11am." Stocking replied "And come on I'm not gonna face this new Douchebag by myself, he's probably one of your old hook-ups looking for his wallet." "Jesus, it's not even happy hour yet!?" Panty barked "Why the fuck are you waking me up. Go see what he wants and fill me in when my blood is more blood than alcohol." "Fine, you cunt but you oh me." Stocking crossed her way to the door "Oh, drink honey, it thickens up your blood." "Ew, and get cottage cheese thighs like you no thanks." Panty replied flopping back into her comfy spot. "I was just trying to help asswipe, no reason to be a bitch about it." Stocking yelled, slamming the door and leaving to the stares. Her older sister was the assiest of assholes in heaven and Stocking met Gabriel. She honestly deserved to be on Earth. Stocking didn't really do that much in heaven, why is she banned? Guilty by association she guessed. Stocking turned the corner and saw the angel below. Her eyes widened as she quickly fell head over heals for this sexy angel. "Oh hot damn," she whispered to herself, briefly grooming herself in nearby reflective picture frame "Can I help you with anything, sweety?" Her voice was thick with sugar coating, not undoubtedly like her pancreas. But there was an underlying sincerity to her tone... very underlying but it was definitely there.

It was September and Serena was walking home with her friends Mina, Lita, Amy, and Rei, as well as her twin sister Krystal. Krystal was dating Marik Ishtar and Serena's boyfriend Darien Shields was supposed to meet them for a senshi meeting after school. Things were getting very suspicious, but Serena tried to ignore it. She didn't want anything messing up her lovely view of the world at the moment. What grand things being 14 and in love could do for a girl's confidence!

Krystal walked with her sister and their friends to Rei's house, where they usually held their study group and senshi meetings. She sensed something following her, but ignored it, knowing full well it was probably just Marik. He loved following her around discretely in the shadows. "Guys, can we stop at the penthouse? I gotta get out of this stuffy uniform," she squirmed a little as she said it, scratching her neck, looking annoyed. "Tell me again why Japanese schools require uniforms?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Rah, it makes me miss Texas." She went up to her penthouse, returning quickly in a dark blue T-shirt with a cropped leather jacket and matching pants, short heeled booties, studded leather belts in black and blue, one with her deck attached and Duel Disc on her right arm just in case. "Much better," she said with an easy smile as Marik came up behind her, hugging her close and kissing her neck. "Hello, Marikins," she said with another smile as she kissed him softly.

Hermione Granger, sixth-year Gryffindor prefect at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was doing what she always did - studying. Of course, she had the best grades in her class, but she refused to let her brilliance go to her head. Right now, she was working on a spell that would allow her to cram all of her books and supplies into her bag, and one that would make the bag itself lightweight so that with everything in it, nothing would be too heavy. She had her bag on the table in front of her, along with her supplies next to it, and pointed her wand at her empty bag, beginning to chant... Suddenly, the lights started to flicker, the ground began to shake...

A crack appeared in the floor of the unused classroom. Then another, and another...the cracks seemed to glow with an unearthly green light. Then the ground seemed to give way, revealing a yawning chasm that seemed to be filled with that very same light. After only a moment's pause, however, something began to float out of the hole. The figure before her vaguely resembled a man, if men had skin as black as asphalt, with legs that were jointed like a dog's, and razor-sharp claws on both his fingers and his toes. On his head he wore what looked like an over-sized goat's skull, from the back of which protruded long, tentacle-like hair. Other than that, he was completely nude, and as he crouched on the now-intact ground she could see the tip of his semi-flaccid cock was nearly touching the floor. For a long moment he said nothing, did nothing but cock his head to one side as he stared at Hermione as if he were looking at a particularly interesting moth. Then she could hear a voice in her head, a strange, echoing tone that seemed to come from every direction at once: Hermione Granger...

It had been a long day for Kate Beckinsale. She had many friends over enjoying her company at her mansion, soaking in the pool and eating what food was on offer. Maybe even some stars had turned up in their bikinis and had a fabulous time before leaving late in the evening. It was around 6pm now and the crowd of people became much smaller, only closer friends staying. Kate walked through the back door and into her home, leaving wet footprints behind her. Wearing an orange bikini that showcased her delightful figure, she made her way to the basement where her wine was stacked. Walking down the stairs, she opened the door and found herself in a maze of bottles, hundreds at least. Going through each section, she finally found something to her liking and picked it up. Looking up at the ceiling, she could hear laughter that made her smile. It had been a good day; everyone enjoyed themselves and didn't have any complaints. Scratching the back of her head, Kate attempted to make her way upstairs and back to the party before she heard a noise. Squinting her face in confusion, she closed the basement door and turned the corner in to a hallway instead of going back outside.

A lean, quick-limbed man intent on a target slipped through the mansion's white rooms, seeking prey. He had been watching outside for hours, ready for the right moment. Now his instincts told him that moment was approaching. Lurking with caution, he hid outside first, gauging the atmosphere. Security was lax with the convivial mood and he slipped in through a side door, face obscured for any cameras. The afternoon heat still hung in the house, even as twilight quickly approached, and sweat prickled across his skin. From an interior balcony he was able to study the remaining guests - and the woman he had come to snatch. For a moment he was almost frozen by the sight of her firm frame parading below him. He waited patiently, minutes oozing by like hours. Finally he saw her come inside from the pool, and his tensed muscles surged into action. Somewhere distant the babble of contented laughter and voices was rippling down, but the house itself was silent save for the padding of her feet. He drew as close as he could behind her, listening to the rattle of bottles, and drawing out his taser. It made a small click as it fired into life, and he shuffled back quickly into an alcove as the curious Kate came in investigate. As she stepped cautiously into the dark of the hallway, he lept out and jabbed her in the back of her neck with the taser, putting her out quickly with a sharp savage jolt. Wasting no time, he threw her wet and supple body over his shoulder, escaping quickly from the house. The upstairs occupants were so oblivious he even walked right out the front door, unnoticed by anyone. He moved down the path to his plain white GMC van, dumping his captive in the back. Every sound and movement seemed utterly amplified in his excitement and paranoia. He bound and gagged her with duct tape as she groggily started to come around, forcing him to administer another painful shock to put her back out. With a triumphant slap on her rock-hard ass, he slammed the van doors and practically ran into the driver's seat. Firing up the coughing engine, he and the kidnapped Kate rolled off into the night, and he finally allowed himself a wicked laugh of delight.

Treno was probably the worst place to be if you were the best sort of people, but thankfully...none of those people really frequented it very much. It was the city that never slept in a kingdom that had a curfew, it was the place that dreams were made of if you had luck and a lot of gil. It was a place where you could get anything you wanted if you knew the right people and had a good price on hand. More commonly, however...it was known for its casinos that attracted people far and wide. Lionel liked to pretend it didn't exist, but it usually seemed fairly interested when it seemed to be getting a generous helping from the taxes. There was not a day that went by that Treno didn't have dusty and worn travelers from all over the globe trying to get lucky, and generally failing. Yet people hoped against hope that they would be the one to strike it lucky...not that it ever happened. It was a plan shared between two Al-Behd brothers, Sabi and Ezen. Both of them looking a little more dispirited than usual. Sabi was the younger, although it was hard to tell from first glance as they both seemed to look about the same. If it weren't for Sabi's hair cut short and Ezen's settled in a long braid, they'd have been unrecognizable twins...barring their clothes, of course. "Well, that's it..." Sabi replied dryly, fingers drumming on the glass table. A fine aldgoat leather jacket settled against his chair as he leaned back with a weary sigh. "We made five hundred gil...out of the three thousand we spent." "Not very good odds," Ezen admitted, reclining back with his drink. It was a stupid plan, but they both knew they had nothing else to rely on. Which is probably why they were too busy sulking to really think of anything better. "Not even a quarter of what we owe, either...what are we gonna do, big brother?" he sighed, hands behind his head with a frown. What could they do? Not much...as it stood, they were nowhere near what they needed to actually pay off the debt. Not that the three thousand would have helped much anyway. "I don't know, Sabi...drink more?" Ezen shrugged, taking another drink. He had no idea what to tell him, and that bugged him even more since Ezen was the one who suggested it in the first place. The mercenary business wasn't exactly as smooth as it needed to be, and in Bikanel...well, they were better off just not trying. So they decided to try their luck at Lionel, by way of Treno. For all the good that had done both of them. But hey, Sabi was good with his fists...and he had a gun, how hard could it be for young, strapping men to find work? "...We're dead, aren't we?" Sabi replied, and eventually Ezen sighed. "...Probably?" Well, it wasn't as if their mood was anything new in Treno. Most people seemed a little down lately, aimless almost. Lots of idiots like them got down on their luck and hoped to make it big on some huge score. Maybe luck was leaving Treno for brighter pastures, if there was even such a thing?

There were not two others in all of Treno that looked as out of place as the pair standing in the courtyard beyond the main gates. One was tall and willowy, her long white ears and the stilettos common to her race only added to her height. Her crimson eyes could be quite unsettling to those who had yet to lay eyes on a Veira more so than her actual appearance at times. She was dressed in almost black leather armor sculpted to fit her lithe shape by the leatherworking guild in Girdania, though the Veira were not known for their modesty due to a lack of male presence in their culture. Her outfit could be considered more revealing than those of the women selling their services throughout Treno. The large oak bow slung across her back did little to detract from her appearance. She seemed entirely oblivious to the stares she received as she scanned the dusty flagstone streets. In comparison, her companion was the complete opposite. Almost two heads shorter than the willowy Veira, this young woman sported feline-like ears and a long swishing tail. Her hair was cropped to the shoulder and the same inky black as the fur on her tail and ears. She stared at everything around her with vibrant amethyst eyes, much like an excited child upon first discovering something new. The Moon Keeper Miqote was easily excited by new things, and her desire to learn led her to practice one of the most difficult magical arts in all the realms. No one would guess looking at the petite but curvy feline that she was in fact a Summoner from Gridania. Her robes were simple linen, dyed a shade of purple to match her eyes, and she carried what appeared to be a large tome on her hip. The only indication of her abilities was a symbol sewn onto the left sleeve of her robes. Miah was practically bouncing on the spot, her tail flicking with excitement. Gywn, look at this place! She exclaimed, leaning over the stone banister that encased the upper courtyard of the city, giving a wonderful view of Treno. It's so different from home! The Miqote had a soft, subtle purr to her voice when she spoke. Gywn, her Veira companion pulled her away from the banister with an admonishing look. We came here for a reason, did we not? Her voice was clear, with a musical sound to it. You have dragged me away from the forests chasing nightmares to this place. She gave a pair of oogling men a distasteful look. Miah was already trotting off down the steps towards the main city with an idle flap of her hand. I just want to explore a little. She told her long-time friend. What's a gambling house? Her attention already diverted before they reached the first intersection. Before Gwyn could stop her, she pushed through the doors into a sprawling room filled with tables and men enjoying their games and their drinks. Gwyn took a firm hold of Miahs collar. We are going now. She declared, turning to drag her friend away. She stopped when she felt Miahs entire body tense up and a soft growl escape her lips. Immediately after, she felt something ripple through the city, it had a dark, putrid feel to it like stepping into a swamp of tainted water and muck. "What was that?" She asked, nudging her tense friend when she didn't immediately get a response. The look on Miah's face was a mix of pain, fear, and anger. The combination sent a shiver up Gywn's spine. "I think the nightmare has arrived." Miah practically hissed.

It was a large, dilapidated building that looked as if it were close to collapsing at any moment. It was old, crumbling and smelly. For Severus Snape, however, it brought back fond memories of finally finding a home. Adderstrike, a collection of abused people from all walks of life - wizards, Muggles, squibs, even a few magical creatures here and there. Adderstrike had been Severus's home while he was going to Hogwarts, and they had trained him in the arts of Potions and spying. It was here in this old, dilapidated crap hole that he had become the man he was with the skills he needed to stay alive. All children, no matter their age, were trained well by the Adderstrike 'elders', and were ruled by a 'King' who was always young and healthy, and always magical. The King was always chosen by 'The Father' or rather, the previous King, to make sure that the King in command of Adderstrike was always fair and compassionate. When Snape was a child, the King had been Roland. He wondered how the man was now? Was he still alive? Or had he passed on? Sev would know soon enough. No one speaks when we go in, and do not meet the King's eyes. He will take it as a challenge to his position and he WILL immediately attempt, and probably succeed, to kill you. Snape warned, his voice calm. He himself was safe, he was Adderstrike, and many of the others in the building would recognize him and know that he was one of them. Once an Adderstrike, always and forever, and they looked out for their own. Betrayal was never an issue, loyalty to Adderstrike was like loyalty to a much loved father. He stepped forward and knocked on the door, grimacing as it nearly crumbled under his fist. The door was snapped open immediately, and on the other side was a glowering teenager. What chu want?! the boy demanded, fingering the handle of his pistol, Snape setting his hand over his heart and bowing to the boy. The Strike of the Adder is Swift... that startled the boy and then he grinned, revealing rotted and broken teeth. The Fangs of the Adder are sharp. The boy nearly purred. The Venom of the Adder is pure, Snape stated. All shall fall before the might of the Adder. The boy chirped and they both finished together. "Surrender to the Adderstrike," Snape said. Your names? the boy demanded. Snape quickly gave his own name and the names of his companions, informing the boy that they were all Wizards. The boy examined them all and then nodded. I'll see if he can see you. You will hand over your wands before entering the building. Including backup wands. You will not be able to apparate, portkey, or 'pop' out of the building once you have entered. He wasn't looking at Snape when he said all of this, but rather the other wizards who were with Snape. Clearly, the boy trusted Snape but not the others. Snape easily surrendered all three of his wands, along with his emergency portkey and headed inside the building, which didn't look much better than the outside did. It was amazing the place hadn't completely collapsed yet. Only once all the wands where surrendered did a young girl appear, maybe six or seven. The King will see you now. She informed them, her eyes cold and wary as she studied the strangers, the boy with the rotted teeth leading the way down hallways that led into what once might have been a ballroom or a lobby, depending on what the building had been before the Adderstrike had taken it over. The room was filled with people, many talking, others playing with various knives and guns and weapons. Some of the older ones were doing various homework, with wands and without. In the middle of the chaos was a massive throne, a young man lounging in it, his hair messy, as if he'd forgotten to brush it, his skin as pale as moonlight, his eyes as green as emeralds and glowing in the dank dimness... it was the Scar though, that told them all who was before them, and Snape felt his blood freeze. Harry Potter was the King of Adderstrike.

'Looks like home,' the male thought to himself as he approached the large building. Everything was boarded up since it hadn't been in use for quite some time, that much was clear. Blake was tall, thin, and attractive, with jet-black hair and stark ocean-blue eyes. An air of confidence surrounded him, yet here he was nevertheless. Blake had been raised by his crack whore mother and the several boyfriends who enjoyed having their fun with him when he couldn't fight back. She wouldn't do anything about it most of the time; half the time she was asleep, and the other half she was too scared of being beaten herself to speak up. When he was eight years old, he was out on the street more often than in his house, well, the apartment they were renting that they could only afford because his mother was sleeping with the landlord. Around his ninth birthday, he started noticing things happening without him meaning to happen, and without any sort of reason. He kept it to himself so he wouldn't be sent to the looney bin. He practiced when he was alone, able to control some of it. It was the worst when he was fourteen, her current boyfriend deciding that he was going to fuck him after dinner. He fought back, though the man was large and overpowered him easily. His mouth was covered but his thoughts were racing, yelling and screaming, cursing and shouting. All of a sudden, he was free - there was nothing on, in or around him. He looked around and behind him was a small toy that looked like the man. He kept it hidden from everyone, especially his mother, though she would die in a few months anyway. When she was gone, he left and hung out with a few other teenagers who lived on the streets, hitting puberty and growing stronger, mentally, physically, and magically. There were times he did things and didn't even know how they worked but stopped trying to figure it out, taking it as one good thing that had happened to him and leaving it at that. He and a few mates had broken into a shop to grab some things one night and he had tripped on a shelf, falling into a brick wall but hitting a floor instead. He looked around, freaking out as he found himself in a different shop completely, gone were the rows of food and replaced by little boxes that seemed to have been haphazardly thrown around. He walked through the rows, feeling as if he was moving with purpose towards something unknown. It was dark and empty so he wasn't worried about being caught, stopping in front of one of the shelves and pulling out one of the boxes. Opening it, he found a...stick? He turned it over in his hand, looking for something that would make it significant. He stuck it in his back pocket and opened another, and another, and another. All sticks. It seemed warm in his hands though, so he kept the first one as he ran through the wall again, looking behind him with a look of astonishment and wonder. There was no way he would be telling anybody about any of this. He kept the stick hidden though he kept it on him at all times, messing with it when there was no one around. The things he could do became more concentrated and he could actually direct their energy with it, amazed. The best thing? It could open locked doors. Who needed to break in and set off an alarm when you could just let yourself in and help yourself? It was a few more years living like this until he met Zach. The man knew what he was and how to help him do more with the stick, or wand as Zach said it was called. He taught him things that let him do so many things. With a few words said correctly he could make people do whatever he wanted, writhe in pain and could even kill them. Zach wouldn't let him use that one, he said it left a trace and people would be able to find him if he used that. Zach became his mentor and his friend, and after a while, his lover. They were running. Blake had no idea who or what they were running from but they were constantly on the move. One day they were caught by a group of hooded figures, one hand coming from the cloak, a shock of green light leaving the wand and Zach fell to the ground. Blake fell to the ground beside him, tears springing to his eyes. He shot curses around the circle, hitting whatever he could before everything went dark, blurring his sight though he did see a dark-haired man lift him from the ground and carry him away from Zach's body. He remained silent for a long time, refusing to speak to anyone, especially Snape, as he had introduced himself. Eventually he would acknowledge him but call him a murderer no matter how many times they had explained what he had done. He had been a spy sent to infiltrate the opposition. He had been caught and had killed several members, a bounty being put on his head that anyone would kill him for. It didn't matter to him. He believed the man had loved him. He didn't know he was only being used. After they had determined he wouldn't be a risk to anyone, they decided to take him there. It was the only thing he had been told. He had been blindfolded on the trip there with several others who had been picked off the streets, though much later than him. He had seen many come and go before they let him leave. Black jeans hugged his legs while above he wore a black shirt and black leather jacket, overall looking like a shadow besides the pale skin of his face and hands. That was about the only part of his skin that hadn't been marked and scarred. At the door, he handed over his wand, several guns, knives, a couple home-made bombs, and then looked down at his black combat boots. They had a switch so that a blade would shoot out from the toe but decided not to tell them about that, preferring to keep his shoes on. He heard the male speak to him, though he was barely shorter than him by a few inches, and acted as if he were superior. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he followed him into the large room. It made sense they would try and fit such a large group somewhere like this. It was very well hidden and they wouldn't have to worry about it being taken because it was in the run-down section of the city they would rather ignore than try to make better. He caught the small movement of Snape as he set eyes on the 'King', guessing that he knew the male somehow. Blake was more interested in the others around him, the weapons they were using, and the spells they were casting. He didn't have to worry about meeting his eyes as he wasn't at all interested in what he had to say or why Snape had even brought him here. He was doing just fine on his own, well, before they had killed Zach. Since then, he had just been angry and lost.

The frontier world of Shas'an had a long way to go before it could become a fully fledged Sept of the Tau Empire. One of the unique challenges was the local fauna. Though not exactly dangerous, there had been a few incidents of aggression. That was part of the work that they did at Fia's lab. It was the central lab for breeding and fertility operations on the colony, and besides ensuring the high fertility rates needed to sustain a colony's population, the Earth caste scientists also developed less aggressive strains of local fauna. Fia wasn't involved in that project. She and her team were specialists in Tau breeding, and as they called off their shift for the evening, the three of them strolled wearily back to the hab block nearby. Fia, the tallest of the girls, was the team's leader from the Bork'an Sept and was a very light blue in color. Vy and her sister Cho were local-born, and had the distinct purple tint that Tau of Shas'an had started to develop. All of them wore standard Earth caste kit, dark blue bodysuits under white lab gowns. They walked and joked with one another, happy to be done with another day but also talking about taking their work home with them. Both sisters hoped to find bond-mates and conceive offspring soon. Fia merely wondered how she would manage the workload while they were on gestation leave. None of them realized that they were being stalked from the shadows.

Patriarch," the Magus spoke up, "these are the three who work on the breeding of their kind." The other two near by were also relaying information before he spoke powerfully, the sound resonating over their own thoughts. "The leader is mine, do with the other two as you wish... Make it look like an attack directed by one of the scientist's rivals..."They spoke enthusiastically that his will would be done as he closed his eyes waiting for his prize to arrive. After all, a brood lord like him did not need do much more than direct his lessors till his true masters arrived. "One survivor who ran to save her own hide, and she will return to be the start of something grand in this worthless Tau encampment, some empire..." He chortled at that they were all ants scurrying around before the will of others, only who he was under was too vast to imagine they had no chance. The magus moved forward with a grace that fit his station - a low faction, but it has been making some noise. "Ahh how are the three of you doing this day?" He nodded to each in turn, his bald head and heavy features making him rarely one who had anyone outside of a few political whores at his call. "Fia, I would ask that you escort me, I have someone who would like to meet you very much. He is rather shy, but was hoping to talk to you about the breeding program." He was known for speaking very bluntly, and as a second in command, his 'liege' was often hidden away to busy to be concerned with such low matters. However, there have been a few who had devoted themselves to the strange man always hidden giggling about his features, and seemed to hide all suspicions about the man being always locked away. The two gene stealers ahead waited quietly, one above the light in an alley they would need to take unless they were planning on a longer walk. They would chase the women down if must either way; the three women were not going to be free to continue their work unless it was under the Patriarch's command.

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

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

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

It had been months since the fall of the Jedi Temple on Ossus, and Jaria Kathson had finally started to feel safe. She had been away on assignment with Master Krona when the attack had occurred, but both of them had felt the great disturbance in the Force as so many of their friends had died at the hands of the new Sith Empire. They had fled to the out-of-the-way system of Alus to try and hide until they could find other Jedi that had escaped. The Force had guided them to Alus 4, where the inheritance had quickly took them in and hid them in a village miles from the main spaceport. There, the two of them had found peace and quiet to wait for the Force to tell them what to do next. Jaria liked Alus 4. The sun was almost the same color as her home world of Klameda, which made the seasons and temperature close enough to make her think of home. Her home world hadn't looked the way she had remembered it as a child, thanks to the Yuuzhan Vong War over a hundred years ago, making the Klamedians have to live in domes to survive the toxic environment. Through the decades, the Klamedian scientists had restored the hair on their head, eyebrows, and eyelashes, but still hadn't found a way to make any of the rest start to grow in their race. After the success of the Ossus Project, Klameda was one of the new planets asking for Vong terraforming, and the people of Klameda were hopeful that the new terraforming would bring it back to its former beauty. It had worked at first, and Jaria enjoyed the renewed planet before she left for the Jedi Academy. But after the terraforming had gone horribly wrong, the Klamedian people had to return to their domes to survive the new Vong treachery, and soon after cut off relations with the new Republic. That was the last Jaria had heard from her family. The morning was beautiful, so Jaria didn't mind when her master had sent her out to meditate before breakfast. The last two days, she had been getting feelings that something wasn't right, but her master had thought she was letting her emotions control her again. That was her biggest problem with her Jedi training - her emotions. When she was happy or at peace, they worked fine, but when she felt fear or anger, her Force talent would manifest in odd ways. So, when she showed agitation, her master would send her away to calm herself. Having finished her meditation, Jaria walked back from the field she had mediated in. She had some fresh flowers she had picked for the kitchen and a smile on her pretty young face. Humming as she walked, she waved and said hello to some of the people in the village as she made her way toward the villa she shared with her master. It wasn't a large villa, but it was a nice place to live. Rounding a corner, she saw the villa ahead, the sun catching in her light blue eyes, making them sparkle. She looked down at the flowers and smelled them, hoping her master would like them. But as her light blue eyes looked up, she felt something hit her like a fist. It wasn't physical, but a tremor in the Force. Horror gripped her heart as she started to run towards the villa, screaming for her master. But before she was halfway to the front door, what had made the tremor in the Force made itself real as a large blaster bolt slammed into the top of the villa. The next thing that Jaira knew was her body flying backwards as the villa exploded in flame and bits of duracrete. Jaria felt a burning pain in her thigh, but before she could scream, she landed hard on the stone road in front of the now-ruined villa. The last thing Jari heard before the darkness of unconsciousness took her was the screams of wounded villagers and the scream of TIE fighters. Jaria Kathson Species: Human apprentice Jedi Age: 18 Height: 5'8" Physical Characteristics: She has long honey blonde hair down past her shoulder blades. Her skin is a light golden tan with freckles on her shoulders and nose. Thanks to toxins on her planet, she was born with no body hair, except on her head, eyebrows, and eyelashes, so her skin is smooth and soft. Her eyes are big and light blue. Her body is a mixture of athletic and curvy with firm breasts between a large B and a small C and a pretty youthful face. Jaria comes from a backwater planet that few have heard of. She has spent almost all her life at the Jedi academy and is a bit naive to the rest of the galaxy. When she gets upset, her Jedi powers do unforeseen things. She is sweet and kind but protective to those she cares for.

Hermione was sitting in the dungeon of Voldemort's castle, bound and gagged. She was wearing absolutely nothing, not a shred of clothing or dignity in sight. Tears streamed down her face as she lay on the cold cement floor, her ankles tied together and her hands tied behind her back. On her thigh, "mudblood" was burned into her skin. She wasn't sure what was going to happen to her. The other members of the Order had been murdered right before her eyes, but for some reason or another, he had spared her for further punishment and humiliation. Honestly, she was just hoping that he would go ahead and kill her. She'd rather be dead than live her life the way he had forced mudbloods to live these days. She didn't want to be a sex slave to some elderly Death Eater... No, she couldn't bear the thought. Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, Astoria had just received an owl from the dark lord himself, and it was addressed to Draco. "Draco," Astoria snapped, walking into his office without knocking, "I've been calling your name for hours." She tossed the letter onto his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "This came for you.

As you should. After so many orgasms last night, you should be still screaming from the rooftops." Draco scowled a little as he glanced up at her rude interruption, before going back to finishing off the paperwork he was going over. While he didn't have to work, his father continuously told him he didn't have to, but he enjoyed working at Gringotts. Huffing out a breath when he realized his wife wasn't going anywhere and expected him to read it with her hovering over him, he flicked a glance towards the door. "Don't you have something else to be doing?" He asked, while in the beginning he and Astoria had been well suited, and he had thought he'd grow to love her, at 23 he was over the fantasy, and so wishing he could get rid of her. But he hadn't found a way out without ruining his reputation, and despite how sick he felt over how he'd made that reputation, he wasn't about to throw it away, and render everything he'd ever done, good or bad, meaningless. While the sex was still outstanding, and sometimes the only reason he could stand to be near his wife, he was tired of his life. Leaning back into his chair as he picked up the letter he made a show of picking it up and sliding his thumb under the seal and pulled out the letter. Reading it quickly, he stood, reaching for the dark trench coat lying on the couch. "I'm going out for the evening. Don't expect me home for dinner." He said, pausing long enough to give her a goodbye kiss and pull his jacket on, looking like everyone would expect for the Malfoy heir. Dressed in black slacks, a charcoal grey dress shirt, with the wool coat over it. Though his hair was shorter than it had been when he was young, it was still brushing his cheek, hanging loosely in his face, the dark blond five o'clock shadow on his face making him look dashing rather than scraggly. He looked young, rich, and like a man who was used to walking into a room and having everyone stop and look at him, whether in fear or lust, it was always the question. Apparating to Riddle Manor, he walked through the halls silently, enjoying the relative silence that greeted his appearance. Like his father, the man was a well-loved, well-treated Death Eater. Knocking lightly on the Dark Lord's door, he paused long enough to get an answer before stepping inside. "You wished to see me, my lord?" He said, tilting his head a little.

The door to the Fenton household opened with a small creak, the woman on the outside taking a moment to scan the interior with her goggle-covered eyes. All empty. Maddie Fenton, one of Amity Park's best known ghost hunters (Better known than her husband for quite a few reasons) took a cautious step into her house and shut the door behind her, a bag of groceries resting in one of her arms. "Jack?" she called out. No answer. "Jazz?" she added soon after. Again, no answer. Maddie hesitated for a moment and called out "Danny?" a little louder than the other names. Well, from the looks of things she was home alone, excellent! She quickly hurried into the kitchen and set the bag down on the counter, before scurrying upstairs to her bedroom. Thank goodness she had some privacy, she'd been dying to fire one out. She slipped off her goggles and cowl to reveal her brunette hair and unblemished face. Her hands quickly worked to undo her tight suits, freeing her large breasts and her womanly hips. Once naked, she reached into her sock drawer and took out a newspaper clipping of Amity Park's own ghost boy 'Inviso-Bill.' Ugh this was so wrong, fantasizing about someone who, not only was young enough to be her son, but also the fact that this was a ghost of all things! But...well, while she was still emotionally in love with her husband, sexually he couldn't do anything without taking about a dozen pills, and even then he lacked the stamina to fully please her. Plus she was having a fantasy she imagined most mature women had, to take a young inexperienced stud and show him the ropes. So with the picture in hand, Maddie let out a long groan and sank two fingers into her pussy.

The ghostly apparition commonly known as 'Inviso-Bill', but more preferably as Danny Phantom, was making his dozenth or so pass over the usual haunting spots of the city before contacting his friends and fellow ghost hunters. "Looks like a surprisingly quiet night here in Amity Park," he noted with a mixture of disappointment and relief after the time wasted on this patrol, "No ghost activity to report after hours of patrolling. Not even any Goths with ghostly white complexions." "Hey!" Came the familiar female voice on the other end; causing Danny to give an embarrassed chuckle before apologizing, "Heh. Sorry, Sam." Another sweep over the school and nothing yet, which caused the rather tired hero/public menace to let out a bored yawn before deciding, "Look, guys. I'm going to head home for now. Let me know if anything spooky pops up." "You mean aside from helping my dad with his bunion?" Tucker Foley chimed in over the mic; only for an older male voice to call out in the background, "Tucker?! Is that you? I need your help again!" Immediately after came the rather rushed "Gotta go! Bye!" before Tucker's line went dead. From there Danny headed home while Sam and himself exchanged a few parting words to each other before hanging up. Upon arriving home, Danny kept to his ghost form and turned invisible with the hopes of phasing through the walls and up to his room without anyone noticing. Surprisingly for his family, the place seemed awfully quiet as the teen made his way through the kitchen. "Huh. Looks like I got in while everyone else was out. At least that saves me having to come up with an excuse for where I was until now." The teen remarked before noticing the bags on the counter. "I guess Mom's here, at least. Probably down in the lab. Which means..." Danny muttered to himself; figuring it meant a quick shortcut through the bedrooms without any chance of disturbing anything while his parents might notice. It didn't take long, however, before the invisible half-ghost found himself within his parents room and greeted to a rather unexpected sight. Freezing in mid-air, the currently invisible Danny's jaw dropped at the full on view of his mother pleasuring herself. "Woah." The teen whispered beneath his breath. In the past, the thought of his parents doing anything sexual would gross him out. Even their more intimate kisses made him a bit squeamish to be around for seeing. But seeing his mother on her own. No dad in sight. Fully exposed and in the midst of such intimacy. Well, it left Danny with a very different view of his better looking parental figure. Watching Maddie for several moments, a rather shameful tent starting to form within those dark form fitting tights, Danny had to remind himself of how wrong this was before forcing himself to attempt in flying away. Taking the long way of flying by her, however, the teen hero couldn't help but let his eyes steal a few more glances of Maddie Fenton's rather full and mature curves. What caught him perhaps by even bigger surprise, though, was when Danny managed to fly close enough to take a look at the photo in the newspaper clipping she was using for visual assistance. "Wait. That's me?!" The ghost boy blurted rather loudly; his concentration letting go enough for him to end up smacking into the nearby wall, which in turn sent him tumbling to the bedroom floor and out of his invisible state. "Ohno." Danny uttered as his face turned white even for a ghost; quickly scrambling to his feet and holding both hands up in a defensive stance while trying to explain and maintain the alter ego, "It's, uh. It's not what it looks like, citizen! Go back to your, um, reading and..." His voice trailed off slowly; there was no way of explaining this one away as he begged, "Please don't tell da-er, I mean, Mr. Fenton?

Okay, so what's the worst that can happen, really?" Rapunzel asked the small green chameleon that sat on her window ledge. The blonde perched atop the rocky ledge, her bared feet close together, toes wiggling. She rocked for a moment, the entire impressive length of her golden hair shifting with the slight movement. Even the littlest movement could cause the feet upon feet of hair stretching out behind Rapunzel to shift; she'd learned that from an early age. Fortunately, she'd learned how to move with the hair, often using it for all sorts of handy things. So one of those things happened to be a rope, and she might have sneaked out of the tower and almost immediately ran into her mother. "It's not like there are man-eating monsters out there!" protested Rapunzel, waving toward the outside again. Her pet just gave her a lackadaisical look before rolling its eyes. It was used to the pretty young girl discussing things like this. Rapunzel had been talking about leaving the tower off and on for the last half dozen years or so. Her eighteenth birthday lay just around the corner, and it was as if that looming date had set off some kind of internal clock within the naive girl. She wanted to head out, specifically to see some lights. Her mother had already said no, but that wasn't enough to stop Rapunzel, oh no. Unfortunately, she'd had a little difficulty finding her way out of the little valley where her tower lay, and there had been some walking in circles and stuff and she'd eventually just wound up more or less where she'd started. And there had been mother. And then Rapunzel's mother had been quite insistent that the girl return to the tower. A day or so had passed, and then Mother Gothel had insisted that Rapunzel clean up, because the next day they'd be getting a visitor. "And wear something cute," the woman said, eying her "daughter" critically. "Though I'm not sure there's any hope for you." Rapunzel really didn't have any clue if she counted as attractive enough. Oh, she supposed that her hair was beautiful, being golden and thick and all. But her face was rather rounded, almost as though childhood hadn't quite given up on her. Her bright green eyes were a little on the large side too, seeming to stand out prominently on her face. She supposed her skin could use some coloring too; she hadn't exactly been outside the tower in ages and you could only get so much sun through windows. Her nails and hands had a tendency to get grubby from the countless activities she did to fight off her boredom. She certainly didn't have the same figure as her mother. Her bust simply did not stand out as impressively and she didn't quite have the flare to her hips. Rapunzel liked to think that she still counted as cute, and that most of what she had to wear counted too, but her mother kept saying she wasn't, so... The girl shrugged and swung away from the window, moving about. The tower was already clean, spotless, in fact, and Rapunzel had gathered the right supplies for a supper if it came to that. She'd brushed through the hair already and tried to make it as shimmering as possible. She'd found a few ribbons which she'd tried to weave in, which she thought looked nice. As far as clothing went, she opted for one of her better dresses. It was still a pale pink that definitely looked "cute," but she thought it would work alright. She liked it. Underneath was the usual: a light pink shift. No need for shoes. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your haaaair!" the familiar voice called. Rapunzel skipped over, tossing over a great rope of the golden hair. Within moments, Mother Gothel had climbed up the tower and was dusting herself off. She gave Rapunzel a once over, frowned, muttered a "I suppose that's the best you'll ever do" and then walked to the center of the tower floor. She set down a small bottle that Rapunzel had never seen before, stepped back, and then muttered some words. Smoke billowed out of the bottle, and Rapunzel wasn't sure whether to step back or look forward. Her pet had decided that now was a good time to leave; it scampered off, leaving Rapunzel and her mother to face whatever the smoke had released.

The bottle, it would change everything. What was in that bottle was something primal, something that had existed before the world and could quite possibly continue to exist long after the world was torn apart. In the Eastern Lands of Story and Sand, there were legends of worlds beyond ours, not out in the stars but in places that were all around us, but could not be seen. The denizens of these lands were many, but among them there existed the Ifrit and the Djinn. These beings were both incredibly powerful and lived in planes that were close enough to touch in some places, but while the Djinn were generally cheerful trickster beings who took great care not to harm the mortals who occasionally stumbled into their lands, the Ifrit were the opposite - wild and bestial things controlled by the basest of urges. Beings of violence and lust. Among the Ifrit, there was one being in particular that stood out. He had long watched the human world from the tower that he had built for himself, wanting to find a way to do what humans often did by accident - cross over. The Ifrit had a hard time doing that, as far as this particular one was aware, no single one of them had ever managed. But Cherubael was not going to just give up because none had ever done it before. He knew there had to be a way, and he would find it. Eventually, word reached him: A human king had found a way to draw the Djinni forth into the human world. As far as Cherubael was concerned, he could use that as a way into the mortal world. And so he mounted an invasion, leading a demi-legion into the world of the Djinni, and when he felt the mortal king's spell work, he rushed forward and out into the softer and brighter land. It was all that he had desired; the air was crisper, the people were so much softer. Here, he would be able to rule like a king... here, he would rule as a god. But the king who had brought him forth knew the mistake he had made and Cherubael had no idea what he had just rushed into blind. The King had been binding the Djinn in lamps, powerful spells forcing them to use their power to grant wishes of those that freed them. This however was going to be a different thing, a very different sort of thing... the spells were hasty and improvised but what they lacked in subtly they made up in power. Cherubael was bound into a glass bottle, the spell to release him was carved into the glass along with a warning that the spells that would keep him obedient would not last, if he was released then sooner or later he would find a way to free himself from the control of the witch or wizard that set him loose. Time went by, Cherubael was unsure how much as he slumbered for most of the time, the bottle was passed from hand to hand, traded along from magic user to magic user, the spell to release him remained legible but in time the warning was rubbed away, too many hands rubbing over the wrong spot would have great effect later on. Cherubael knew that he would be free eventually though, humanity was short-sighted and foolish. Many centuries had past before the bottle eventually passed into the hands of a witch, moderately powerful but using a rather unique sort of magic, rare in this world that allowed her to remain young far beyond her years. She began to whisper the proper words to the bottle to awaken the spirit within, letting him know what was intended; he was to remain in or near the tower and keep the girl within from leaving by any means necessary, beyond that he could do as he liked... so long as he did not kill the girl or cut her hair. He wasn't released right away though; the first part of the spell to release him could be done at any time, it would awaken the spirit and the second half would be completed in the next twenty-four hours or else the Ifrit inside would sleep again. But a few hours later, he heard the other words speaking; the chains that bound him in the bottle weakened and disappeared, smoke pouring free, and with it Cherubael was given flesh once more, though he wasn't as strong as he had once been, the time locked away had weakened him. Before he had been able to change his form however he liked, size and shape had been his to command, but now he was trapped into a single shape, the one he wore most often, towering at nearly seven feet tall, three hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle covered in thick fur with waves of heat radiating from his body... his resting temperature in the neighborhood of a hundred and ten degrees, but could raise even higher when angered or excited. And he was very excited to be free. Gothel, he murmured, his voice a deep and powerful growl that echoed from the tower walls. This is the girl that you have freed me to watch over... I can guarantee that she will not be leaving. He looked over her, eyes narrowing, long and thick tongue running over his lips, tracing over his prominent teeth, the leather loincloth that he wore was straining to cover the bulge that was forming. You can leave now, I will be very happy looking after her. At least for a while, sooner or later he would find a way free of the bindings, now that he was free, he would have all that he desired.

The Doctor snuck through Rory and Amy's flat doing a quick check. He found Rory on the couch with the television still on. "Rory, check." He tip-toed to the room and found Amy passed out on her bed, "Pond, check." He quietly closed the door and ran to the TARDIS. Feeling a bit weighed down by the married couple, The Doctor took on a solo adventure every now and again. He quickly ran around the TARDIS's console and threw all the switches to get her moving. "TARDIS, check." He then moved to a mirror near the console and checked himself, quaffing his hair to the left and straightening his jacket. "Cool factor," he said, tightening and straightening his bow tie. With a smirk he added, "Check." Throwing the switch, the TARDIS lurched into action as he shouted, "Geronimo!" Then he was off through all of space and time. When he felt the TARDIS come to stop, he limbered himself up before bravely stepping out of the Police Box with a bright smile. The environment he stepped out into was a dark and bleak one. "Ooo, a bit dreary this place." He then saw the bars in front of him, causing a slight frown to mar his face. "I don't remember wanting to go to prison." Had he put in the wrong coordinates, or was the TARDIS just acting up?

River had become quite used to life in prison, however much she hated that fact, she had. The only thing that kept her going, was that The Doctor occasionally came and picked her up, to go on adventures. She lived for those days, rare as they were. River had, much to her disappointment, only managed to lure him into bed with her twice. Although it didn't always happen in a bed. One of them had been her first time with him. And the other had been his first time with her. The latter had definitely been the hardest to get him to do. She was pretty sure he had blushed all the way through it. So when a boring, normal day in her cell was interrupted by the whooshing of the TARDIS, River quickly got up from her bed and put on her boots. Ready for anything. Her gray tank top and olive green pants, wasn't as flattering as she would have liked. But she could make anything look sexy. It was all about confidence and attitude. And River had loads of confidence. "I don't think anyone wants to go to prison, sweetie," River stated, standing by her very small and uncomfortable bed, with her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm glad you think you should see me... even if you don't," she said, sounding part wounded, part teasing as she took a few steps closer to him.

Elvira lay on the floor of the second-story master bedroom, staring up at the ceiling and watching dust float past. For 504 days she had been waiting for a new family to move into the home, lightly pulling at her thick black hair. "504 days," she murmured. "I mean, I know this house is shitty, but it's not that bad.

Rapid footfalls beat hard on the ground, a girl wearing a large dirty black zip-up hoodie maneuvered through the foliage; her breath coming out as heavy pants. She tripped over a tree root that stuck from the earth and fell on her face before getting up and running again. She found a rather large old house and rushed towards the door, ripping it open and moving inside, shutting the door and leaning against it, panting hard before sliding to the floor.

Welcome to Summoner's Rift! Ah, that old, crisp, feminine voice that rang out across the battlefield. So many times had Ahri been here, through so many victories and losses, yet now she was controlled by a summoner with little experience wielding someone with her charms and allure. She giggles softly as she hears the sound of gold coins being dropped into the fat coinpurse of the merchant at the platform to get her a ring. "Aww, how cute," she whispers to her summoner through their telepathic connection as she slips a Doran's Ring on her ring finger and quickly moves for... Top lane? Wait, top lane? This summoner really had no idea what they were doing. A small frown reached her lips. So many in top lane were just too fleshy for her to handle to begin with... This summoner overestimated themselves. Not to mention, she had heard of the opposing team's summoners. The infamous group of sexual predators... Yet they had been allowed to play. It increased the popularity of the matches at a time where they had been going on for so long that some had wondered aloud if there was even a point to them anymore. Still. She reaches her lane on the purple side, taking a few deep breaths she twirls her blue orb around her hands and tails, the light reflecting off her smooth as silk thighs. Who would it be this time she wondered. Who would she charm and drain dry in this little simulated playground of death and mayhem. Minions have spawned! A small smile of simple delight spreads across her face, her eyes filled with a playful nature. "Lets play." She enters the lane with her minions, failing to check the brush for any intruders, and failing to place any wards down in the jungle or in the river to start with... Not that... It was too dangerous... Right?

Nasus had been a favorite champion of many man summoners across all of the leagues within the Institute of War from the time of his arrival in this world. Under normal circumstances, this would please the canine-like curator. Being so frequently picked placed him in the Fields of Justice often and finding himself here as often as he did gave him more and more opportunities to encounter his brother, Renekton, so that he may humble the reptilian champion. Today was different, however. Today, he was under the command of a summoner with peculiar powers and peculiar methods of waging war. Nasus had been picked by this summoner often and he was none-to-pleased to have been selected once again. This summoner, as Nasus would have put it, was a paragon of injustice within the Institute of War - a great sign of the corruption that the power of a summoner could incite in a mortal man. He and his team of four other summoners had, in a sense, gone rogue some time back. Though they were still summoners of the League of Legends, they no longer sought out sanctioned games. Instead, they spent their time finding new, weak summoners and turning the Fields of Justice into a sexual battle royale. How they had evaded punishment was anyone's guess, but they had never seemed to get so much as a slap on the wrist for such actions. For a beast such as Nasus, the thoughts were infuriating and the actions, unforgivable. To make matters worse, Nasus had been forced to carry out these actions with no ability to deny the commands given to him by his summoner. He had been made an unwilling accomplice in all of this injustice and things were about to get worse. Until now, all of these sexual battles had been conducted against the weaker, lesser-known champions of the League of Legends - champions that no one cared about and few had ever even heard of. This match, however, was to be played against the League's true champions. The women on the other team were all champions that Nasus encountered regularly in the Fields of Justice. He feared, deeply, that he would be forced to carry out these commands against someone that he could call a friend. It was then that Nasus's thoughts were broken. The connection to his summoner had been completed and Nasus was torn from his home in the far-off deserts. Moments later, he was standing on the summoner's platform in the Summoner's Rift, along with four other champions whom he had come to know well because of these twisted summoners. As usual, he found himself here not as himself, but as a damned and infernal version of the Nasus that had been left behind in the desert. This body... It was hard to explain. When Nasus found himself in this form, he always seemed to enjoy the torment that he brought against his fellow champions more than normal. It was as if this form somehow tainted his soul. He did not like it, but it did, at least, make these matches more bearable for the noble curator. The clatter of gold could be heard filling the coinpurse of the platform's merchant and in mere moments, Nasus was headed for top lane with his Doran's Shield. Knowing that his summoner had more experience than that of the enemy summoners, Nasus was not surprised to see that he had beaten his opponent into lane. The canine-like champion waited at the lane tower for a few moments while his summoner formulated a plan. Nasus could almost hear the gears clanking in his summoner's head from his place in the fields. The enemy team's composition was... laughable at best. Nasus had no idea what to expect and it seemed that his summoner did not either. "Minions have spawned!"the voice rang across the rift. The announcement sent Nasus's summoner into action, causing him to guide his champion into the nearby brush along the top wall of the rift. From here, they would be able to see their opponent long before they were seen themselves, a tactic that most summoners learn early, but with as fresh as the opposing team was... Who could guess what they might do? After a few seconds, Ahri came into view. Wait... Ahri? Nasus had to do a double-take to make sure that he was seeing this correctly, but yes, it was, without a doubt, the League's Nine-Tailed Fox. This Revelation brought a bit of relief to the Curator's clouded mind. Ahri had taken her current form from stealing the lives of innocent mortal men. Though the Institute offered her a way of retaining her humanoid form without the need to kill, this did not pardon her from past crimes; not in his eyes. She was a selfish, vain creature who valued her own interests above the very lives of others. He would have no quarrel exacting vengeance for the lives that Ahri had ended before joining the League. For now, however, he was having to wait. His summoner seemed to be formulating a plan of attack...

It had been two years. Two years since Monkey D. Luffy had set out on his adventure, tackled the Grand Line with all his enthusiasm and his strength, gathering together a ragtag bunch of misfits along the way and creating quite a large amount of trouble for the World Government. Or, at least... it would have been. Fate was strange like that; the smallest thing could have drastic consequences. Luffy had never met Nami, or Zoro, or Usopp or Sanji or any of the group. Perhaps he was still out there somewhere, giving the Marines hell... but it also meant he never met one Nico Robin. The Jaguar rocked in the waves off the coast of a small island by the name of Roak. It lay on one of those seven paths through the Grand Line, that ineffable and dangerous sea that drew the wild and the foolhardy. It was a great ship, a full galleon staffed by a full crew -- a crew whose collective bounty steadily rose with every month. Nico Robin stood atop the deck, eyes as blue as ice staring out at the sea. She was clad in a form-fitting catsuit of some sort, with shortened sleeves and long, shiny gloves to compensate. Her neckline plunged down nearly to her navel, the material straining over her breasts as she enjoyed the feeling of the evening air. "Mm. How much longer did Pet say until the Log Pose is set?" she called out across the deck. "Another hour or so, ma'am," came the reply from one of the crewmen on deck. Robin almost sighed, settling one slender hand under her chin as she sashayed slowly along the Jaguar's deck. "Pity," she said, "but can't be helped, I suppose." Her high heels clicked against the solid wooden deck. It was an interesting life, leading the Demon Pirates (an appellation oh-so-fitting for the "Demon Child" Nico Robin as she'd been called so many years ago). The Poneglyphs were yet out there and ripe for the viewing... but... there was only so far she could be pushed. Kicked around from service to service until she'd been employed by Crocodile... and, well, the moment he'd tried to get rid of her, seastone shackles had seen to him. Two years. Two loooong years since then. At least her crew were enjoying themselves on Roak - the screams had died down about an hour ago, which meant the place was likely pillaged and her crew had started relieving themselves with the local populace. It was part of the reason for the bounty they'd managed to accrue... and part of the reason why the Jaguar was so big, and why its brig was likewise quite large. She slowly made her way up to the bow of the ship, turning to quite gently press her hip against the wooden railing, settling her hand on the polished surface. It WAS an interesting life most times... it was only when they were forced to halt for the Log Pose that the monotony set in. Tick, tock, tick, tock... She reflected that the next island had best be larger, if only so that there were better specimens to find - both in the populace and the sort of books they had. Roak's had been rubbish - shoddy reprints of some of her collection. It left her with precious little to do.

Indeed, in another life or time, a chance encounter with an enthusiastic young pirate would change the lives of so many others in ways they may have never imagined. Certainly, this was the case for one Roronoa Zoro, famed pirate hunter, whom never had such a fateful encounter which would guide the famed swordsman toward being the trusted blade of a potential Pirate King. Instead, the pirate hunter was left stuck at the mercy of a marine captain's pampered son for several days, until having to fight his way out when the little punk broke their promise on intending to free him after a month. Things got messy. Very messy. Afterward, Zoro spent the coming months and eventual years toughening his skill against pirate and marine alike. Still very much the pirate hunter he'd been known for prior, but having to make backdoor deals with marines which were willing to overlook his increasing bounty in order to let him do their job for them. Neither a pirate nor a marine, the three sword style swordsman kept his eye on the eventual goal which lead to his embarking out into the sea in the first place; that of being the greatest swordsman alive. The swordsman believed himself nearly ready. He'd fought many of the best from both the marines and the current pirate generation. His pockets lined with many coins over time. But before believing himself ready to take the fight directly to Dracule Mihawk, the greatest of all swordsmen, there remained one final obstacle to overcome. For the past few weeks, the often times easily lost swordsman had worked his way toward the biggest pirate bounty anyone could target. Not an easy task considering his sense of direction. So what luck it was when the island he'd next decided to take a break upon after ditching his small, rickety old boat turned out to be the one which Nico Robin's crew seemed to be pillaging next. Waves crashed above him as he kept his breath held and swam beneath the churning water near the docked ship. Better way to avoid detection than approaching from the beach, even if it did lead to his taking a few wrong turns and adding a dozen more minutes to his swim. But regardless, Zoro came up near the far end of the ship, as he took in a deep gasp for air. Surveying the exterior from his low vantage point while floating in place, the pirate hunter then pulled out a small blade and displayed his impressive physical strength by managing to slowly climb up the exterior of the large ship with this blade alone as an assisted grip. Impressive considering the amount of physical strength used to swim for so long underwater. Huffing only slightly by the time the swordsman made his way onto the deck, Zoro had discarded his shirt and kept only to his dark pants and boots while making his way along the dangerous ship. His body and clothes already dripping enough without said shirt adding to it, which meant the young warrior's toned upper body was on full display for any whom could see it. A number of smaller battle scars decorated his flesh. Nothing quite to what Mihawk may have left across his chest had their paths crossed earlier in another world, but certainly a fair amount of which to read like a map of his history since taking to the seas. Unfortunately for those few on the ship whom did cross his path, the swordsman was quick enough at dispatching them with minimal noise on his part. Quick enough for them to barely catch a glimpse of their attacker before giving into the embrace of unconsciousness or worse. Their bodies hit the ground with light thuds, similar to the sounds made by those fellow crewmates on the island whose acts of debauchery were close enough to earshot for Zoro to ignore. More bodies falling. Not the best thing to have happening if one wanted the full element of surprise, but that was fine. Much like how scars on the back of a swordsman is shameful, so was leaving such a scar on the back of an opponent as you sole means of defeating them. Having spotted the leader of the Demon Pirates, Zoro slowly approached. The sounds of a last few fallen crew members beginning to be heard in the background as they groaned out their last breaths. The swordsman stood there. One sword held clutched within his teeth. Two others at his side. Gripped firmly. Aware of her powers. Every fiber of his body intending of lashing out the first sign of her using those abilities to defeat him. Believing himself ready, as the pirate hunter spoke, "Nico Robin?" His right hand raising a sword. Pointing it toward her while standing a few feet away. Directing it at her head, with the other in his left hand remaining ready to strike at a moments notice, he got right to the point, "I came for your bounty. You can either come along quietly or I can take you down by force. What's it going to be?

The deafening thunderclap broke off negotiations between Ryudo and his client, the Church of Granas. The Geohound didn't know much about Valmar, pieces of Valmar or the powers of darkness, but he knew that the thunderclap he'd heard didn't sound natural in the slightest. Ryudo turned to regard Carius, who was already beginning to follow him. Irritatedly, Ryudo shook his head. "Stay here," he insisted to the holy man, who opened his mouth to protest, only for Ryudo to shake his head even more firmly. "What good are you in combat if it comes to that?" he asked. "I'll go out there and see what's going on. This doesn't mean we have a deal yet! I just... want to see it for myself with all your babble about Dark Ones." Carius protested again, but held his tongue. After all, at this rate, the Geohound's services would be very much needed again. Considering the failure of the sealing ceremony, and the likelihood of the Wings of Valmar being trapped within Elena, the journey to Granas Cathdral would be necessary, and it was a long and dangerous one. Moments later, Ryudo tore out onto the church grounds. His hand was on his sword, looking for the source of the sound. Whatever it was, judging by the destruction that already lay around, small buildings in rubble everywhere, it was as powerful as Carius had feared. Trepidation filled the Geohound, but he would not yield. It had already been an impossible day, and he was beyond curious as to what could cause *this.*

Ahhh,. Oh, it has beenwaytoo looong!" came a voice that really could only have been female, an exuberant cry of passion that filled the night sky, backed by the sounds of crackling fire that persisted in the wreckage of several houses in that tiny town. But no one was around -- not in sight anyway. In fact... that voice didn't seem to be coming from the left or the right... but there was something peculiar. A shadow on the ground only a dozen feet out in the lee of the church, the silhouette of a woman... that voice was coming fromabove. Millenia'slips curled into a cruel smile as her dark wings unfurled behind her, spreading wide behind her and casting her body into sharp relief against the glow of the moonlight. That silhouette of a figure looked for a moment like a cross against the ground, spiky and angular from the jagged edges of her wings. And all at once the figure fell off the side of the church's roof, ethereal wings catching the wind and ferrying the redhead down to the ground, landing not far from Ryudo. She straightened up slowly, sinuously unfolding from her crouch, running her delicately-pointed fingers along the bare skin of her thigh, tantalizingly hinting at what lay below a skirt that was likely far too short. "Mmm. Well, that was certainly fun. Shame this place is so small, though. There's hardly anything todo!" Millenia said, turning on one heeled foot to turn and face the figure she only now became cognizant of. "Oh. Or maybe I take that back. Hello there," Millenia said with a lascivious wink Ryudo's way, those peculiarly glowing eyes openly raking over the swordsman.

Ferra pulled herself out of the snow and let out a sigh; she was drenched from head to toe because of falling through some ice - a small pond had been hidden under the deep snow and she was unaware of it and that is had weak ice. She grabbed the dead rabbits she had managed to hunt down and trudged her way back towards the cabin she was staying in. Ferra was a young girl, age 18 with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She had a slender build. Her chest was small with breasts that would fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. Anyways, Ferra had been alone since her parents were killed by Walkers about a year before. However, she was no longer alone; she had been saved by a grungy man with shaggy hair and a crossbow. His name was Daryl Dixon, and she had made her way up north with him six months before to live out the winter. As she made her way into the cabin, she shut and locked the door behind her and sat her bow down on a rack Daryl had made along with her quiver. She pulled her jacket and boots off, trying to keep herself from shivering, as she trembled and made her way to the kitchen, where she put the rabbits in the freezer. She could hear Daryl making his way up from the basement, so she moved to the fireplace and threw a log onto the fire. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her body and let out a sigh as she sat in front of the fire, trying to stay warm. She heard the basement door open, and she knew he had heard her come in. "I managed to get some rabbits," she said, trying to stay calm, but the cold felt like it was seeping into her bones. It had been hard for her to let him let her go outside alone, as he always was by her side since he had saved her life. She didn't know why he was so protective of her, but she didn't mind. "I can clean them up after." She pulled the blanket up and over her wet hair, shivering slightly now.

These damn days were often spent in silence. Daryl's mature body and thick build was stretched out on a bare mattress with his hands locked behind his head. His dark, narrow eyes flickered about the darkness as he helplessly awaited Ferra's return with much concern, though unexpressed in his handsome features that ultimately created a tough guy image. He taught her everything there is to know about survival shortly after he saved her and secretly began to regret it when she became too dependent on him, which he found irritating. He claimed at that point, "I ain't no sitter. Now if you're gon' be with me, you're gon' have my back." And now she is too independent and ironically it annoys him more than when she was just a needy girl. His insatiable lust for Ferra grows stronger everyday but it pains him to know she does not need him in the sense of how much he needs her. Daryl sat up at the sound of the distant opening and closing of the front door followed by the familiar thumping of Ferra's feet walking across the room. He blindly reached beside the mattress and grabbed his hunting knife before carefully climbing the stairs out of the basement. He twisted the knob and pushed the door open to see her cocooned in a thick blanket beside the small fire. As he neared her, his heavy boots emphasizing each step closer he took, she told him of the rabbits she caught. He just barely understood her through all the shivering. Daryl overshadowed her smaller figure once beside her and witnessed her struggling to get warm faster. "...That ain't no way to do it. Just getting the blanket wet too." He dropped down beside her and removed the blanket from her completely to see her clothes soaked all the way through and clinging to her figure. "Damn. What, you think it was a nice day for a swim?" He sucked his teeth and shook his head as he pinched an area of fabric on her shirt and felt the cold water occupying it. "You need to get out of these fast." Releasing her shirt, he snatched up the blanket and opened it wide like a curtain, hiding her body from him. "Hurry up, I ain't lookin'." He snapped at her before turning his attention towards the dancing flames. "Cover up with the blanket when you're done.

Name: Larya Fenalis Age: 18 Personality: Bright, energetic and haughty. Very conscious of the fact she is of royal birth, which might grate on people's nerves at times. This doesn't mean she's just a spoiled brat without a heart or a brain, Larya was educated to be a ruler. She just doesn't have to deal with it yet, and thus uses her time to indulge her wishes so far. Gender: Female Species: Human Appearance: Things were looking rather grim for the Orre Kingdom's royals. The neighboring kingdom of Sidoon had always wanted Orre's fertile lands annexed to them, and with the aid of mysterious creatures they were succeeding. The tales that reached Orre's capital Realgam spoke of human-like beasts with powers capable of leveling entire towns in a matter of minutes, soldiers powerless to stand against the advances of these fighters, these bloodthirsty creatures mingling with the invading army. Mercenaries, some said. Experiments, others said. No one knew for sure, and soon Sidoon's forces reached Realgam's walls. What word of mouth had been carried to the city did little to prepare the Orreans for the one sided battle that ensued. Any resistance was swiftly crushed, to the point people began defecting to the other side. What use was there to die for the life of the nobles? Promises of a better rule, a better life was quick to sweeten the deal, and soon the royal palace was breached. There had been no time for the Fenalis to flee, and so they stood their ground against the invaders with the last loyal forces. It was a fierce battle, with plenty of blood spilled on both sides, but the lopsided strength of the non-humans threw the scale in the invaders' favor. By the end of the day, as the sun began to set, the King and Queen of Orre, along with their youngest daughter Larya, the only one still unmarried, were kneeling down and tied on the courtroom that was once theirs, awaiting their fate with pride in their hearts. It was especially visible in Larya's eyes, a defiant fire daring the ones who took her lands to take one step closer. She wasn't afraid. Not even of those filthy non-humans, whatever they were.

Name: Samuel Hellrin Age: 26 Personality: A cold and calculating Zoraok, Samuel knows when to act, when to stay back and when to destroy something. He is a born leader of a Zoroak tribe and has lead them to many victories. He is a charmer who has a silver tongue as he can convince anyone to do what he says. Gender: Male Species: Zoroak Appearance: The creature that had attacked were known as Dark stalkers, they were powerful creatures who could summon darkness at will and could take on the form of anyone they came across. As the royals would wait for their fate, something else was happening outside that no one had been ready for, The Sidoon kingdom that had won were now being destroyed themselves by the Dark Stalkers who left none of them alive. After a long time, the leader of the Dark Stalker came into the throne room and threw the head of the Sidoon commanders and the royal family at the King and Queen feet this cause the guards that were in the courtroom to react but they too were soon killed by the other dark stalkers. He was a tall and very powerful monster with Red hair and black clothes, he had wolf like fangs and claws which were covered in blood which he wiped clean on one of the royal pillows before he sat down in the royal throne and faced the king and queen. "You humans make me sick to my stomach, always wanting this and that. Your never happy with your life so you always want more. I am Samuel Hellrin, Alpha and commander of the Dark Stalkers" He told them in a calm almost charming voice. He looked at his 20 members of his pack, there was a mixture of both males and females. He then looked at the princess who was there with her parents and he stood up and walked to her. He looked into her burning eyes and smiled as he said "I like you already". He then licked her cheek and rubbed one of her covered breasts knowing she could do nothing to defend herself before he left her alone to sit on the throne once more. "King and Queen Fenalies of the Orre Kingdom, you are free to rule this kingdom now I have no use for either of you. But I will be taking control of the Sidoon kingdom, their entire royal family and knights are dead killed by the Stalker's I left there. We shall leave your kingdom alone as you will with our but your daughter will come with me and be my slave/queen of the Sidoon kingdom after all we don't know everything about ruling and I want to have something to pleasure me after a long hard day and to give me some advice of ruling, if you refuse then the last thing you will see is me raping your daughter in front of you before you are killed by the executioners" He told them in a serious tone considering the death and destruction that surrounded them, it was clear he would carry out his threat. He made them look at the two Stalker he had scythes in their hands as their claws had been broken during the battle.

Pushing her large blue and top hat out of the way for just a moment, Caitlyn knelt down on one knee inside of the brush. This was certainly odd, there were no minions even though the minute fifty-five mark had passed. There was no announcement, no other champions in sight, no nothing! Her eyes scanned the area, seeing nothing but untouched terrain. Hell, for all she knew, the jungle camps were no where to be seen. Throwing out a few of her traps, just to be safe, she placed one in tri-bush and in the river bush before she resumed scanning the bot lane. Was everyone else having that much trouble summoning? What the hell is going on? The thought came as she stood up in the bush, her rifle at the ready. Taking just a moment to fix her skirt, Caitlyn ran back to the tower. Something was seriously wrong here. Three minutes had passed, and still nothing. The traps were still unsprang, and all Caitlyn could hear was the sound of the rushing water of the river. It was more of a stream if anything, but. .Shaking her head, Caitlyn tried to focus. If no one was here, and there were no minions, how in the hell was she going to get out of this place! The summoner frowned. He wasn't super experienced at the game, but he also knew better to know that something was up. Caitlyn was the one champion he played fairly well, and he took a moment to glance around. He was alone. At first, he just assumed that the other summoners were running a bit late or something, now, he figured something was seriously wrong. He didn't see any of the elements that he'd normally see given these circumstances. Instead, it just seemed like it was his champion on the Fields of Justice. Alone.

AsCaitlynand her Summoner were beginning to suspect, something very wrong was happening in the Rift today. One of the high-ranking Summoners of the League had gone rogue last week and today, in this match, he would begin to carve his name across the Fields of Justice. Today would be the first match in which she struck out at the lovely ladies of the League of Legends - the powerful women who had captured her imagination and touched her deepest fantasies. She wanted them, but she knew that she could never have them. It was because of this obsession that she went rogue. Because of this deep obsession with the League's female champions, she decided to take them in the only way that she knew how; by using the champions themselves against one another. By using the Champions of the League of Legends, she could best the objects of her desires in the Fields of Justice and use those champions as tools to vent her sexual frustrations. Of course, the Institute of War would never allow something like this to happen, so it was necessary for her to take matters into her own hands. She had asked around, spread rumors, and followed leads to the Summoner that was now controlling Caitlyn. He was an easy mark - a novice with limited skills. Against her, he stood no chance, adCaitlynwas his favorite champion. She had hoped that he would bring the Sheriff of Piltover to the match, and her luck had paid out. Using an unawares messenger to mediate between them, this rogue Summoner arranged this match with her opponent. It was entirely unsanctioned. The Institute knew nothing of it, and so there would be no minions to aid Caitlyn. There would be no other champions to come to her rescue. The only beings in the Rift today would be Caitlyn and her opponent,Jinx, the Loose Cannon. Jinxhad been carefully picked for this match. The Summoner knew that she would need to make sure that her chosen champion would not reveal her identity to the institute following this match, lest she face harsh punishment. Jinx was perfect for this. She enjoyed chaos and mayhem. She also was not very fond of the Sheriff of Piltover. Jinx would keep the Summoner's secret. Of that, she was sure. "I see that you made it to the party, Hat Lady!" Jinx shouted when she spotted Caitlyn hiding beneath the safety of her tower. Jinx, herself, was standing just outside of the tower's range, close to the safety of the lane brush just beyond the tower's firing range. Pow-Pow was in her hands, ready for action. Strangely, she didn't seem surprised by any of the suspicious absences on the Rift today. Instead, she just stood there; staring at Caitlyn with a mischievous grin on her lips and her finger on the trigger of her chain gun.

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

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

And so the journey begins...

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

Ilea had spoken a lot of curses today, against the titans, against the Alliance, against her own foolishness... It had seemed like such a simple plan, sneaking through Alterac and down towards the Hillsbrad Foothills. The rogue had already spent several unpleasant weeks braving the cold and snow of the mountains, her leathers proving quite inadequate against the biting winds and furious storms, and now that she'd arrived in the foothills on the other side, the area was crawling with Alliance of all types. When Ilea had departed the Undercity, glad to leave the stench and constant undead behind, the Horde had been primarily in control of Hillsbrad, but the tide had turned since her departure, and now she was quite a bit deeper in enemy territory than she would have liked. Not only were the Alliance common, but they were watchful too, expecting the Horde to make a push to take back the foothills any day now, and more vigilant for that expectation. They patrolled constantly, and more than once she'd been forced to hide away, spending entire days avoiding the motley squads of men and women rather than making her way forwards as she should have been. This was one such day, hidden in the dried stump of a lightning-struck tree, listening to them pass in and out of earshot constantly. She was sure that their rogues were tracking her in some fashion, though perhaps it was simply Alliance paranoia when they referred to the possibility of Horde infiltrating the area. She doubted she would be so lucky; she hadn't been so far.

In the time since the Cataclysm, the Alliance had lost their stronghold on Hillsbrad Foothills, Southshore. The damn sea might as well have opened up and swallowed the whole settlement with the way that the tidal wave created by Deathwing's emergence had come over the small town. Fortunately, there was a recent demand by King Varian Wrynn to reclaim a foothold in the foothills and Alliance heroes from far and wide had answered the call. One such 'hero' was Ivan Raelthorne. Ivan was far from a real hero, though. In fact, before Gilneas had closed down her ports and shut the great wall, Ivan had been a pirate captain. His ship had been docked in Gilneas when the ports were locked down and he had become trapped there during the spread of the worgen curse. He didn't answer to Varian Wrynn, or any king for that matter. He did, however, answer to the sweet jingle of the coin that was offered in compensation for aiding the effort. If he happened to find anything nice on the dead Horde then that was a nice bonus too. What? You can't possibly think that looting a couple of bodies was below an old sea dog like Captain Raelthorne. In fact, he had been rummaging through the coin purse of a dead orc when she caught his eye. There, darting between the trees below the ridge upon which Ivan stood, was a blood elf woman. Her beauty was almost hypnotizing, as was the way her leathers hugged her womanly form and the way that her stark-silver hair blew in the gentle breeze. Normally, a live captive would be a lot of trouble and not much worth the effort, but Ivan was prepared to make an exception if this woman looked as good up close as she did from this distance. "Well aren't you a tasty little treat," the human mused to himself. The irony of the remark brought a smirk to his lips as he slipped into the shadows of the trees and began to make his way towards the elven woman. As he grew near, it became obvious that she would stand little chance against him in a direct confrontation. Even in his human form, Ivan was about six feet and four inches tall, which was several inches taller than the tallest elven women - well, of this kind of elf, anyway. He was about a foot taller than 'average' high elven and blood elven woman. Aside from his height, he was just much more muscular. Overpowering this woman would be an easy feat. He just needed to wait for the most opportune moment to strike...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even before the scene faded from black, the sound betrayed what was happening: the moaning of a woman, the panting of a man, the slapping of their flesh coming together. And as the picture did come into view, any remaining doubt was removed: this wasn't some fuzzy-filtered rolling around in the sheets, but raw, unrestrained, genuine. The sudden little gasp perhaps matched similar gasps from those watching but this was one of pleasure and excitement, not shock and consternation. The slow steady zoom confirmed this was no mere sex scene as it captured a flash of thick, tumescent flesh disappearing between two pert cheeks, stretching out the tightest of holes. Juliana was on her hands and knees at the end of a large bed, sheets swept to the side. Her exquisite figure was on display: shapely rear hiked up and breasts bouncing aloft, while her narrow back dipped in a shapely curve. Her purple gown had been pulled free of her shoulders and lifted over her waist, leaving in bunched in the middle between a sandwich of her nakedness, though her smooth skin was also adorned with many bangles and bracelets, necklaces and pendants, a mixture of gold and silver and sparkling gems which contrasted to her soft features. Her face was delicately made up, and currently caught in an expression of enraptured bliss as she let out another gasp; her mid length blonde hair was a little astray, not helped by the loose fistful gathered up in a grasping hand. It was a slow, but vigorous scene: every thrust was enough to lift her hips in the air, and she sported a cherry-red handprint on a pale buttock. But at the same time, as she slid from her hands to her elbows, breasts squeezing together between her tone arms, Juliana's brown eyes looked up over her shoulder at the man behind her, and seemed touched with a look of almost tender eagerness, of adoration, of obedience. She bit a sliver of lip between her top teeth as she stifled another gasp, eyes never breaking their sultry gaze even as another steady thrust filled her so completely, looking up longingly at the man dressed only in one thing: the Crown of the Emperor.

The man's crowned head tilted this way and that, missing sight of the loving, sultry gaze boring unto him by the beauty in his bed. The camera would switch between his face and her pale, curved back, blonde tresses spilling part upon her shoulders and part bobbing freely. It showed his face again, then switched back to a place lower now, lingering on the heart-shaped soft bottom that splayed in the center, leaving no question as to which place in her body the young woman was accepting him in. The moment then was one captured and held at length, the image of a shaft driving deep into her buttocks holding for a good forty seconds straight. She wasn't rapidly being taken, but rather at a solid pace, with each strong thrust firm, meaningful, causing a bounce of the woman's body in response. After those forty seconds the man leaned back a bit, still in the same position, giving the overhead camera a better view as he lifted his hips and the young woman pushed back onto him. Thirty seconds of this now. It was vulgar, it was so, so different, and it was real. Did it make viewers uncomfortable? Good. Did it make them uncomfortable in abadway? The camera went back to the Emperor's face which was looking randomly about the room, tilting this way and that, grinning, labored breaths coursing through his lungs. Then he looked down, and upon catching sight of his young, beautiful niece staring up at him, his face brightened even more and his body leaned forward, still maintaining its rhythmic thrusts, curling over top her back. One arm came to rest its hand on her shoulder. The other came to cup the outside of Juliana's cheek, which he held lightly while giving her a soft, sweet closed-mouth kiss. The other hand left her shoulder then, dipping around her side to beneath her, to cup her right breast, holding its wonderful mound of flesh in his palm whilst its twin swayed freely. In the distance, very, very faintly, birds were chirping. Light shone in brightly through windows, cascading down on one part of the bed and various parts of the floor. The new day was well into its morning but before it was time to embrace the world it was time for sweet, deep anal between uncle and niece. It did not matter that guards stood watch outside the door and likely heard some of the louder mewls from her more delicate frame. It did not matter that the sounds of sex, that the constant slapping of his firmed up sac against her firm rear cheeks challenged their respective gasps and grunts to be the greater part of the room's din. It did not matter that they were related by blood, and held the titles of Emperor and Princess of Rome, respectively. The two loved as strongly as they lusted, and with several more kisses between them, it was easily made clear that the tasks of the day would wait until they had finished.

Eight Fifty-Two. It was Saturday. ...Saturdays were pointless. Well they had a point, but not in the way teenagers spent them. Saturdays were to be another day of doing - of study, of research. Of experimentation. Even if your field was not science, it was another day to devote oneself to betterment. To your cause!Not hot dogs and movies. But whatever. The world needs its fools. Hojo looked at the time. Official notices had been given to four different students last night - he'd double-checked on that - which was plenty of time. Since then everything in the lab had been double- and triple-checked, and sterilized again, not that it needed it. As far as the SeeD students were concerned, they were four of the best; the brightest, strongest and most attractive that the Garden had to offer, whether they knew it or not, which led to each being cherry-picked for this special project. Normally Professor Hojo's works at the Garden, a place named Jenova High, were largely kept under wraps. Whispered rumors and brief glances through a window as they passed by were the extent of what most people knew of the specifics; though he was head of the Garden's Science Department, people were generally only admitted into his lab on a need-to-be basis, other than the Headmaster and he himself. The room was wide, and long, similar to a gymnasium, except its cool whites and stainless steels hardly spoke of this as a place of athleticism. It was separated into several open areas. On one half, the half closer to the double doors where you came in, there were several rows of tables set up. Most were adorned with beakers and tubes, open books and simmering flames. One looked like an examination table, white leather straps and a clean scalpel laid out on its otherwise sterile top. The other half of the room was a large open floor, curious in that there was nothing to it except some markings making a large square all along its edge. To the far wall of the room were numerous chalkboards and computers set up at desks. The immediate wall when you first walked in had several large clear pods in tandem, large enough for a human, looking like some eerie futuristic form of an old style phone booth in a way, curved white bench to sit on and everything, though there was nothing else in the open pods other than that. Finally on one side of the room a hallway led off, though without going, who really knew where. Hojo checked the time again. Eight Fifty-Three. The four girls were due at Nine. "Hmm," he breathed to himself, flipping through sheets on his clipboard. On it were contained profiles of each of the students as well as data on several of his planned projects. Excess time like this was irritable. It only led to reconsidering which test subject and experiment he wanted to go with first.

I don't want to be here," whined the blonde, practically stamping her feet against the ground. Each movement caused her long, orange scarf to bob about her, causing the tightly braided yellow hair to clink and clank against one another, the various baubles that had been woven in knocking against one another.Rikku may have been a SEED, one of the school's elite fighting force, specifically trained to fight against the worst of odds, she may have been a thief who'd gone on more daring missions than even some of the most battle-hardened veterans, and she may have been skilled enough in combat to be worrisome to most monsters, but she was still very much a teenage girl. Of course, most people looking would think that was all there was to her. Cute little blonde Rikku could not look more teenage girl if she wore a sign around her neck that proclaimed her to be one. From the top of her golden hair to the swirling green eyes to the cute little shoes she wore on her feet, Rikku looked every inch the teenage girl. She had the perfect slim build, the bouncy... disposition ,and the firm, young breasts of a teenage girl as well. As required, she wore the school uniform, though like the rest of SEED, she'd heavily modified hers. This meant a lot of warm colors, particularly yellow and orange, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a top so low that you could see her perky cleavage all too well. She'd actually gotten to the school last, the other requested SEEds having beaten her there. From the looks of it, Selphie had been waiting hours. The other girl was all smiles and cheers, actually handing out coffees to the other girls, extending one even to the whining Rikku. Her cute brown hair stuck out at an odd angle, but it framed a face that almost screamed "classmate down the hall you didn't want to know you had a crush on." Like Rikku, she favored warm colors, specifically yellow. She was thinner than the other girl though, which was saying something, and her breasts were about two sizes smaller, practically nonexistent. Some, including Rikku from time to time, would tease Selphie about having the body of a preteen boy. That didn't make her any less a teenage girl, of course, but it did give her something of an inferiority complex. Though next to Tifa, nearly any girl would have a complex. Someone had blessed Tifa with an abundance of breasts, and no matter what she did, the eyes always went straight toward them. The rest of her was rock hard, lean and tough, thanks to hours upon hours of hard, physical training. This did help her breasts remain almost unnaturally perky, not to mention firm. Genetics had provided her with a near perfect hourglass figure though, not to mention thick, black hair that she wore in a loose ponytail that bobbed about her waist. She usually tried to be friendly and all, but she still seemed fairly consistently distracted. Pretty well everyone knew the reason why, but mentioning it would just get a waved off hand; pressing would result in a punch, and Tifa punched hard enough to bend steel, her own personal little trick. The most physical of the group by far, Tifa could and had wrestled monsters to the ground and beaten them to a pulp. None of the other girls had ever beaten her, though the last had come close. Yunahad taken a bag from her cousin Rikku and ducked behind a dumpster to change. The others, used to this, had sighed and formed something of a wall, though Rikku continued whining throughout most of it. Yuna didn't look it, but she had more power than most of the rest of her companions. She had the genetic disposition toward dealing with the various elemental beings that inhabited their world, and was said to even be able to control them. Were that not enough, she'd learned how to dual-wield a set of pistols with remarkable efficacy. To top this off, she had probably the softest, curviest body of the group, though her bust didn't come near to topping Tifa's own. Her legs matched the brawler's though, only where Tifa's were all hard muscle, Yuna's had a softness. Her plump rear had just the right amount of firmness too, and her hips had the gentle curve of womanhood. She looked sweet and innocent, though the outfit she walked out with didn't seem to quite match. The girl smiled nervously as she reached up to adjust a braided tail that hung down from her light brown, feathery hair. Her heterochromatic eyes looked at the others. "Are we ready now?" she asked, nerves leaking into her soft voice. "You might wanna tuck in your thong there," replied Tifa with a smirk, pointing. Yuna flushed and worked to do precisely that. "You really shouldn't wear the sexy underwear if you don't know how." "Well, Rikku brought it and--" "And would you wear anything that Rikku brought?" countered Tifa, raising her brows. "Probably," chirped Rikku, giggling. It was left to Selphie to try and shepherd the other girls inside. Soon all four entered, looking around the room, trying to figure out why Hojo had called them there. Yeah, they were all SEEd, but they were an odd mix. Yuna and Tifa might be considered a few of the more powerful members, but Selphie ranked dangerously near the bottom, and Rikku somewhere in the middle. Their bodies differed as well, with the overlapping similarities seemingly outmatched by differences. As near as they could tell, the only connecting factors were their age, sex, and involvement in SEEd. "Hojo probably just feels lonely or something," suggested Rikku, giggling. "He wants a few pretty girls to make his lab look all bright and shiny." "Them, um, why did he call SEEd?" Yuna wondered. She folded her arms behind her back and held back, looking around nervously. "This place is kind of unnerving, isn't it?" "It's not that bad," said Tifa, sauntering forward. "Not like we haven't been in worse situations." "exactly," said Selphie, nodding. Rikku had shot forward though, causing them all to look that direction. "There's pods here or something!" she called, stretching up on her toes to look inside. "Maybe he wants to try and flash-freeze a buncha teenage girls?" she giggled at the thought. Yuna still didn't move, not until Selphie got behind her and started pushing. By the time Yuna got to the tubes, Rikku had started poking around to see if she could open one, while Tifa tapped another. Selphie left Yuna to investigate on her own, while all four couldn't help but wonder just what these were and, again, why Hojo had asked for the four of them to come there today, on a day off, no less.

The incident that had become formally known as 'Armageddon' had naturally fucked up the realms previously involved in the different Mortal Kombat tournaments. When the creature called Blaze appeared, setting forth a challenge that would forever shape the dimensional barriers, every warrior had rushed for his pyramid to compete for dominance. When the dust cleared and the blood washed away, it was Sheeva the four-armed Shokan who stood triumphant. The muscular beauty had been flooded with divine power, and with that might she was able to tailor the realms and those that inhabited them to her whims. The news of a new captive reached her ear, carried to her by Kitana. Sheeva had wasted no time heading down to the expansive dungeons under the surface of her palace. Down the cobbled path she walked, toward the chained-up green-skinned figure in one large cell. Tall and muscular, just as Sheeva was. She had fought valiantly after tumbling into Outworld, and as such she had been doused with a special potion to limit her strength a bit. "So you are the jade warrior?" Sheeva asked, placing her lower hands on her hips while her upper arms crossed under her DD breasts.

She didn't see what hit her and it happened so very fast. For all her powers and ability, Jennifer was caught by surprise. How and why, she didn't know. One moment, she was out late at night for a light jogging when she stumbled into the black depth of a forest in a park. The next moment, she woke up groaning. After her vision became no longer blurred, Jennifer tried to move only to wince in pain and realized both her wrists were shackled above her head. "Uhg, god, what in the hell?" she grumbled. "Did... Someone get the number of that truck," she continued, but her rambling went silently dead when a pair of big hands groped both her green mammilian jugs. She let out a gasp. Looking down, she still retained her white fingerless gloves and long wrist band, thick Hooter's style socks and sneakers, and her underboob sleevless turtleneck. The only thing she discovered was missing was a pair of purple thongs. Now her green slab of tree trunk was hanging out. Growling, she tried to struggle but in her weakened condition, Jennifer started to panic and tried to turn around to see who was checking her Amazonian frame. "Hey, who the Hell are you, and what the heck do you think you're doing pal!" she growled.

The dark thick black clouds oozed over the house on the hill. It casted a shadowy darkness across Vannacutt Psychiatric Institute for the Criminally Insane; the only place where nightmares came true. A jagged bolt of lightening ripped the night sky in half as icy raindrops poured below. The ocean was violent crashing its waves upon the very settlement the institute was built upon. Thunder rolled across the sky seeming to crack the world in half as below near the entrance you could see a white van and two police officers bringing in a young man. They rushed him through the doors as nurses in white with caps could be seen running to aid. The lights flickered with every crash of thunder outside. A girl stood in barefooted in scrubs and a t-shirt with a cardigan wrapped around. Her face was deathly pale as if she hadnt seen light in years and besides through a window she hadnt. Her eyes had shadows and were bloodshot but still she held a dark beauty. Standing in the hallway she could see the nurses trying to calm the new patient. She knew what ever he did to get here was either a lie or horrible and that he would probably never see the outside world again. She could hear his screaming and it made her cringe and she backed up. She saw a nurse administer a sedative and in seconds his flailing body went limp as he was thrown on a gurney and strapped down. Keys were heard opening the doors to the hall. They came through and a nurse encouraged her to back up as they rolled him down the hall. She didnt move as another nurse grabbed her and pulled her back as she saw the new patient. He was young, the face of a helpless boy. What had he done? She was drawn to his face as the nurse was yelling and pulling her back. He vanished behind the next corridor. Zoey. what on earth is wrong with you, come now. Lets get you back to your room. The nurse said guiding her down another corridor. She rubbed her shoulders as not all the staff here as cold and cruel. Actually most was pretty reasonable. Your freezing.let me get you some heated thermal blankets and how about some hot cocoa.hmmm, then were take some medicine and sleep through this dreary storm. The nurse patted her back and helped her into her dimly lit room. All that was in it was an old metal bed with white sheets; there was a sink on the other side of the room. As the nurse left the lights flickered and she was left sitting on the bed wondering who that boy was as the storm raged on.

After another long night of 'Full-Service', Johnny was on his last customer. He gingerly placed the pump back in its holster as he turned to his Customers. A car filled with a family of four, and an old station wagon. The Man reached into his pocket and sighed, saying in a scalding manner. Man - "$3.50 for a tank... You guys are outside your minds..." Johnny, turned to him after handing the man his change for the five dollars. The light buzzing above him flickered some from age. Johnny - "Inflation, Sir. It will be going up from 30 cents soon enough, I'm sure..." The man sped off, Johnny let out a tired sigh from working all day, the usual clientele in and out, just like every other. He walked into the garage where a few cars were parked, some with their hoods open, others not. He looked them over before putting the last of the day's money in a lock box and shoving it under the desk for his boss, Mr. Simmons, to count up and add to the safe in the morning. Johnny grabbed his jacket from the chair he was sitting on and shut off the light in the garage, after checking on the guard dog, two black labs, and giving them food and water for the night. Johnny pulled down the garage door and locked it tight, as he did every night. He lived not very far from the station, recently having to relocate due to his current relationship with a woman of a different color, Alma. She was her name, a young black woman who, like Johnny, had been disowned by her family for her love of Johnny. As he arrived home, dinner was had followed by a session of lovemaking. It was very passionate on the night before they were to be wed. As they lay there, a gentle wind blew in from the open window near by. He let out a soft smile as did she. Alma - "Johnny... Do you think society will ever let us be together?" He smiled at her and contemplated for a moment, then sighed and spoke up. Johnny - "I do so hope baby... Maybe one day this world will see what I see... A beautiful heart." She smiled and gave him a light peck before running off to the kitchen, as he lay there. He let out a sigh when a light flashed into the bedroom window, he popped up suddenly grabbing his pants and a shotgun from under the bed, He ran to the living room when Alam's voice screamed out for him, he looked in every room before being lead outside where the light shone down from the sky, firing into the sky her voice now came from the house again, He ran inside. As he did, a deafening noise bgan as the light grew inside the home he was pushed to the floor by force, Soon he was in an all white room surrounded by strange grey beings tall, short, fat skinny, all kinds he saw Alma, her screams were muted as she was being exmained, the fear grew as they implanted some razor thin device in his neck, he blacked out soon after.... He woke up, in a large van, his arms and feet bound his clothes covered in blood, most his own the rest, god only knows he was drug out of the van by two large men the rain poured down as his head was covered with a blanket, he was shoved inside where many looked on in fear, including Zoey, and Grace, he was quickly sedated and strapped to a bed and wheeled away from the frightened on lookers. He awoke in a white room surrounded by doctors and nurses. "Where is she!? where's Alma!!!??" He screamed as he Doctor pushed him back down, Before looking him over still. ??? - "Don't worry son....I'm sure she is somewhere, we will find here..." He said in a sarcastic manner, Knowing what Johnny was sent here for, a Psych evluation, To see if he was indeed who they were looking for. ??? - "We will find her, and the other 10 women you slaughtered." Johnny's eyes widened as he tried to sit up and speak, but before he could he was injected with Sedative, His body lay back on the bed trying to scream but he slowly quieted down staring at the good doctor the whole time. "What happened to me?....What did i do? if i did anything?....Why am i here!?" HE shouted to himself as lightening crashed and he passed out.

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

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

It's showtime! Are you ready?" Grinning in place, the crowd went wild as Risette struck her customary victory pose, microphone in hand. The lights were flickering on and off, swinging wildly, and then she brought the mic up to her mouth as the music kicked in. Club Escapade was full to the ceiling with her fans. She'd gotten a lot of them since returning to the life of an idol after Inaba, and after her show had gotten cancelled way back then, she'd always promised to come back and make up for it. Now that she knew what had caused that blackout in the first place, it was even more important that she kept her promise. Risette danced, jumped, moved her arms and hips, getting the crowd pumped. The backup band wasn't too shabby, at all, either. By the end of the set she was sweaty, exhausted, but thrumming with exuberant energy. Someone shouted "We love you Risette!" and she laughed, winking, and caught sight of a familiarly tousled head of hair that she hadn't seen in -- Gosh, forever. Her lips made a perfect moue, but she couldn't simply call out his name like that. The crowd would totally freak out. Instead she took her bow and went off stage, snagging a security guard as she did so, whispering, "Hey, you see that cute boy in the back next to the door? Bring him backstage in a bit." She definitely needed a shower first.

Ken watched the show from the back of the club with a small smile on his face. He wasn't much of a partyer or club-goer, but when he heard Risette was going to be the main attraction tonight, all the Shadows in Tarturus would have been unable to keep him away. He was a senior at Gekkokan High now, and he had met Rise a few years ago. He formed a crush on her almost at once. She was so charming, funny and down to earth, all of which were qualities that appealed to him. Not to mention the fact that she was downright stunning. He blushed slightly as he watched Rise dance and sing on stage. He was of that age now where suggestive thoughts were entering his mind and he certainly had a few about the idol on stage. He could have sworn he saw her wink at him, directly at him. Did she remember him after so long? That would be news to him. As the show ended and Rise left, Ken lingered around, wondering if he should try to talk to her in any way. He let out a sigh as he decided against it and got ready to leave, but then a guard pulled him aside and told him Rise wanted to see him backstage. He stammered out an affirmative and the guard escorted backstage to wait outside Rise's dressing room. He could hear the running of the shower and his blush intensified. Knowing that one of the most, if not the most beautiful girl in existence was showering not far away was enough to make the young man aroused.

It was moments like this that made Max reconsider his life. The choice to move out to Los Santos from Vice had seemed like the smart thing to do for an intelligent young man looking to make it in the entertainment world as a screen writer. But after two and a half years of doing whatever random jobs he could find, living in a shitty little apartment in a neighborhood with bars on the windows and having to keep a cheap gun in the table by the front door. Most people found themselves at the Vanilla Unicorn on a Tuesday night to enjoy the girls and the drinks. Max found himself there for the cheap All-You-Can-Eat all night buffet. He had just wrapped a fourteen hour shift doing security work at the Richard's Majestic lot, so far the closest he'd gotten to any studio. The bus ride back to this part of town had been fairly empty but he had kept his hand in pack the whole way where he had kept gun just in case someone decided he looked like easy pray. Max was a tall guy standing over six feet tall with a wirey build, a shaggy mane of sandy colored hair, his features thin and narrow and he sported a pair of narrow, rectangular rimmed glasses. He chased a stray bit of pasta around his plate with his fork, glancing up for a moment at the main stage before slouching more in his seat.

The story of moving to Los Santos with big dreams was definitely not one that was unique in the large, glamorous city. It was a story that many desperate failed actors and directors could say, all with film degrees they would never use and crippling amounts of debt, be it student or worse, debt to one of the many criminal enterprises around the city that victimized these desperate individuals. A weekday night strip club was definitely a good place to find these kind of people, and the curly-haired redhead was no exception. Sandy Davis got quite a few looks as she walked inside of the club. She looked far more like one of the women on the pole than the clientele mostly of creepy, middle-aged men. She was a sight to see, with 5'6 of lightly tanned skin accompanied by wide hips that pressed her dress out and DD-cup breasts contained in the decently high neckline of her dress. Long curls of dark red hair flowed down her shoulders and framed her dull grey eyes. A few of the male clients came up for her looks as she walked in, but much to their chagrin she didn't go for the changing room or the pole, but instead plopped down in a chair next to the youngest male that she could find at the club. Her reason for entering the club was simple. She was tired and needed a place to sit down and the club offered no cover and maybe a male who would buy her a few drinks. With a sigh she plopped down in the chair and looked up to see a young blonde trying to put herself through college wiggling her hips back and forth. How's the food? Sandy muttered to the male sitting to her right.

Mio stepped through the door to her new apartment and looked around with a small smile. The house was fully furnished already, and it even had a television, not that she watched much of it since she was usually with the rest of Hokago Tea Time. It had been a year since Mio started college and for the most part, she had gotten into a good rhythm. She had classes Monday through Thursday, Friday and Saturday were practice days and Sunday was a day she relaxed. But the thin walls of the girls' dormitories were too much for her and she wanted some actual peace and quiet for once. Luckily for her, Mio had found a flyer of a person seeking a roommate, and it was across the street from the university too. It was also only 18,000 Yen a month as well. Sadly, Mio hadn't done any laundry lately so she was left in her old school uniform from the summertime. The shirt-sleeved blouse with a blue bow tie, a grey skirt and black socks and shoes. In two of her hands were her bags of clothing, and on her back was her Fender bass, which had been named Elizabeth. Stepping through, Mio removed her shoes before looking around in the living room. "H-Hello! I'm here!

Kairu was a member of a school band that he had joined during the last days of school before Summer vacation as the drummer of the band, but now he was living alone in an apartment for a while already and it was time to stop being alone and have a new roommate so he could have some fun. It wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to and hang out with besides his band members when they met up for practice mostly on the weekends. Right now he was in his room, fixing and organizing all his band things, making sure he had all his sticks and his drums were clean and they sounded right. He turned quietly to hear a noise from the living room, "hmm someone took his offer and it was a girl too so that was a plus. Kairu smiled and slowly stood up, walking into the living room to see her. "Hey...nice to meet you...you must be my new roommate right?" He said knowing she would of course say yes. "Just follow me and I'll show you your own room." He nodded and walked down the hall, turning to a closed door that was across from his open door where a drum was sitting in the middle of his room. "This is yours." He said opening it and leaning back against the wall. There was a large closet, a desk, and a large bed that had a small nightstand and lamp on it.

By this point, the painted surface of her ceiling was starting to burn into her retinas. She had been lying there all damn morning and hadn't even mustered up the energy to move yet. Annacouldn't explain it really, this general sensation of fatigue filling her to the brim and making all her muscles simmer with some soreness. At first, when she awoke, she had considered it to be a fever which was far from uncommon in Arendelle. Now that seemed far from the case. The redhead could only lie there, dressed in silk purple pyjamas that covered much of her womanly body while her red hair fanned wide and loose beneath her. Her skin was getting clammy with sweat, her breathing growing more laboured, and more than once she'd shoo'd off one of the castle staff. She felt bad doing it of course, but whatever illness this was it left Anna in no mood to be civil. As morning turned to afternoon Anna was still lying in bed, the sheets kicked off and left pooled on the carpet. The staff would come and go to Elsa, reporting of more groanings coming from her chambers and her continued refusal to leave her room. Stranger still, soon more of the servants were coming to Elsa and reporting of rippling heat waves becoming visible in the corridor just outside Anna's room. Strange to say the least, and what neither sister could know was how much stranger this was all going to get. Lying back on the cosy mattress Anna turned her head and let her cyan eyes settle on the glass double doors leading to her balcony. Fogged up from a steam she couldn't see. "Weird..." the princess croaked.

Unlike her sister, Queen Elsa still had a kingdom to run. The icy blonde had spent her entire morning fending off various political issues, issuing proclamations, and just generally making certain that Arandelle stayed peaceful and prosperous. The queen had received a few notices from servants that her sister hadn't left her bed but, well, Anna had been known to sleep in quite late in the past. True, she'd gotten significantly better since the whole incident with Elsa coming out and all. Though Elsa thought she recalled Kristoff visiting the night before. So she didn't really think much about it. She thought a good deal more as Anna missed lunch. Anna may miss several things through sleeping or avoidance, but meals were generally not among them. Elsa might skip a meal or two, mostly out of business or because she accidentally (or "accidentally") froze a meal, but Anna ate rather regularly. In fact, the staff informed Elsa that Anna hadn't taken food for most of the day. Anna did occasionally squirrel away food though, and Elsa did have duties of her own to attend to. Which actually left things up to Olaf, who'd been visiting at the time. The perky snowman had come to inform Elsa that things were not right with her sister. The first clue had been that Olaf appeared to be about a third melted despite the spell that Elsa had cast over him. From there, Elsa heard from the castle staff that there had been heat waves. So the queen figured now was the time to check on her sister. Fearing that Anna may be quite sick, Elsa opted to change into a more demure and rough dress than her normal flowing ones. This one still happened to be teal blue, but probably wouldn't have looked out of place in a peasant's wardrobe. It cinched around Elsa's thin waist fairly well, and covered enough of her. The ice blonde hair had been tied up and pulled back, and Elsa was ready to go. Or so she thought. The heat waves proved difficult, and Elsa had to actively expend her own magic in order to get close. She'd cooled the doorknob and then forced her way into the room. "Anna? I'm coming in!" she said, leaning forward to look around the edge. "Can you tell me what's going on here? There's an awful lot of heat for this time of year," so much that Elsa could actually feel sweat beading on her brow, something she hadn't felt for a very, very long time.

Lady Termaine's School for Girls was falling silent on the freezing winter night. Female students from ages six to eighteen were falling asleep in their beds. The school had grown since it was established in 1893. Since then three additional buildings had been added to the campus. In one of the outer buildings one particular woman was toweling off from a hot shower. Across her shoulders lay her towel hiding her nipples while still showing off her round breast. She pulled on black yoga shorts that had a decorative green band. "Did I really forget my shirt?" She frowned looking around the steaming bathroom and sighed seeing that she did. Shaking her head, she left the bathroom after gathering her dirty clothes and towel and quickly hurried to her room down the hall. A flip of the light switch and the room was a glow from a bright lamp in the far corner. Tossing the bundle of dirty clothes and towel on her shoulder to the floor, she opened a drawer and pulled out a large white t-shirt that had Run DMC across the front with the members of the group near the bottom. The young woman was a Teacher's Assistant in the Math Department. She was finishing the last part of her degree that would get her to being a real teacher. There were times when she was mistaken as an upperclass student due to her young features. Stepping out of her room, she saw two girls giggling at one end. "Hey! It's past lights out, do you really want a detention?" She called out, seeing them freeze. "No Natalie." They sighed annoyed that she had caught them.Natalie Bernet was twenty-two years old and in addition to being a TA, she was also a mentor to the girls and monitored a few of the floors in the building, making sure the girls got along and stayed relatively happy. Like most nights, Nataile was walking the halls, making sure all her girls were in bed and not up and getting into trouble like the two she had seen not long ago. She started on the floor beneath her own, peeking into each room and then moved onto her floor. Starting at the end of the hall where some of the young girls stayed and would slowly make her way to the end of the hall. She expected it to be a quiet night, but expectations didn't always turn out the way one hopes.

The darkness watched her quietly... A shadow of hidden desire... It slowly followed her across the floor down the tile hallway, hiding under her feet with each step... She was beautiful... It longed to touch her, to feel her, to smell her... Oh yes... But it was patient. The shadow merely followed and waited... It was weak in the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway. And so it waited. The young teacher's assistant unlocked her door with a coded card key, and stepped into the room. The shadow followed her, and with blinding speed, it slithered up the wall and behind the wall light switch place, severing the power wires, bathing her room in darkness... It then flowed outward like an inky velvet blanket across her bed, eager to envelop the gorgeous woman in its dark embrace, completely hidden in the lightless environment. It waited for the girl to test the light switch several times... The darkness heard her rich voice utter a few choice obscenities... It waited patiently for her to get close enough to the bed, at which point it would strike... And she did. The shadow lashed out with a black velvet tentacle, wrapping around her leg tightly. She struggled, but it was immensely powerful. It managed to cover her mouth quickly before she could scream, and pulled her down tightly onto her bed. Its black fold caressing and fondling every part of her body with complete abandon... A sultry, masculine voice emanated from the direction of her desk. "Let her go..." Abruptly, the light came flickering on. The Shadow emitted an ear piercing scream of extreme torment... It tried to dash out of the open window, only to have it slam shut... It attempted to hide in a drawer, but it suddenly closed as well... A black leather gloved hand reached out and grabbed an inky back tentacle of the shadow, and held it tightly... The hand belonged to a mysterious young man who was perched on his tip toes, high on the back of her wooden desk chair. He was clad in dark clothing, with longish shiny black hair that framed his eyes. His mouth smiled cruelly, his lower lip framed by two snakebite type piercings. And oddly enough, he did not cast a shadow of his own... "Hello my shadow," He murmured to the writhing insubstantial darkness flailing before him... "Just what have you been up to?

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

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

His name was Caid Selvon, an 18 year old med student who had just recently turned 18. He was small, about 5'5" with long blond hair worn in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. He was feminine like, weighing only a light 120 lbs and having pale skin that was almost perfect. Many thought he should have been a model, but Caid wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps as a doctor since he was 13 years old. Now his dream had come true. He was smart, graduating top of his class early, and had recently moved from Scotland to New Jersey where he took up a job working at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital under Dr. Gregory House, who most people hated. Sure, Caid was often annoyed by House, but he held his tongue. Recently, however, House had been getting on Caid's nerves, and he was sure it was on purpose. Caid was always a nice and sweet boy, but recently he had gone silent whenever Gregory popped up, trying hard not to burst out and yell at his boss. Caid had just started his shift the day after his 18th birthday, at noon. He was busy working with a few drunk patients when a man came in with a dildo stuck up his ass. "I will see what I can do," Caid said. "I will get you in touch with the Anesthesiologist, and we can remove it today while you sleep. It will be painful to remove while awake." Caid spoke to the man, laying on his stomach with his ass in the air and a blanket over him.

Gregory House gave an exasperated sigh as he finally got out of bed. A couple of his neighbors had been extremely loud and irritating last night, which meant that he hardly got any sleep. Maybe he'd dozed here or there for a few minutes, but as far as actual sleep, he got jack shit. "Figures..." House murmured as he grabbed his cane and stood up. All of the assholes who had kept him up were now quiet as mice and sleeping themselves. The doctor sighed and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Oh, yeah. He was definitely going to need that today. Five cups ought to do it. It came as no surprise to House that he had a plethora of annoying neighbors. Directly across from him was old lady Miller, who was legally deaf in both ears. She would often have her hearing aids on full blast (though the left one's volume setting was starting to malfunction.) Often times, she would have it turned up all the way, but she couldn't actually hear anything. Last night, she had the TV blaring, the noisy dishwasher running, and her fucking record player on full blast. Then there were the newlyweds, next door who had been married for an entire week. They were probably his least favorite. Every fucking night without fail, they were screwing. Moaning and screaming and the creaking of their bed frame. Last night, he'd had enough. He'd taken his cane and pounded on the wall where their bed was. "Don't drink too much, Jack! You wouldn't want to end up with a case of whiskey dick, now would you?" All of the sudden, all the racket stopped. The next thing he heard was Tiffany, Jack's wife bursting out laughing. House grabbed everything he needed for work and walked out to his motorcycle. Hell, maybe Jack would drink himself to death and end up destroying his liver. Today was going to be one of those days. A day where anything and everything could and would annoy him. He could feel it in his bones. House parked his motorcycle and walked into the hospital. "Alright, Chase. What do we got?" Chase grimaced. "Well, some bloke came in with a dildo stuck up his ass. He was off his face, and somehow... that happened. Caid is trying to get him some anesthesia so we can take it out.

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

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

Belle Guerrier, aged 22, howled in frustration. She had been so close to killing her mark. She was a Hunter, her mandate, her mission, was to hunt down and if needed, kill rogue supernatural beings. Beings like ones that murdered innocent humans in the case of Vampires, beings like ones that stole human babies and switched them with their own, in the case of the Fair Folk, beings like those who sold their abilities to the highest bidder, like Warlocks, and beings like those who went on killing sprees if they weren't careful during certain times of the month, like werewolves. The main job of the Hunters was to keep the secrecy of the supernatural world. If the supernatural folk got bad, it was their job to put them down to keep the secret. Belle was half Faerie, half human. It gave her some measure of control over illusionary magic, which allowed her to change her appearance at will, though she hated doing it on the spot, it made her really sleepy. She was also blessed with extremely good reflexes, as well as very wonderful speed, which made chasing down the bad people much easier. The catch was that she couldn't touch cold iron. It stung and burned her skin, though thankfully it healed. When she had to handle iron weapons, which was toxic, bad for the Faeries, she wore proper protection equipment so she didn't hurt herself. Right now, her mark was a Vampire that was endlessly murdering humans. Very close to exposing the supernatural world. Murdering mundanes was very much so against the Law. But damn, this Vampire was one of her hardest battles yet. All of the others were mere child's play, but this one was a wily son of a bitch, that was for sure.

Desmon Endar, a natural born vampire born of the highest most noble blood, was one of the few vampires born into this world with a place of power already established. That place of power though, would fall short due to his ignorance. He had thought himself impervious to the charms of mere mortal creatures, but yet an elf of all things had brought him to his knees - literally. He had proposed to her only after three weeks of knowing the female, she didn't know that he was a vampire at the time, of course. When she found out, things went better than Desmon had thought they would; she accepted him for who he was under one circumstance: he make her like him. She didn't want him to stay young and have her grow old and weak. Even though an elf lived incredibly long lives, vampires could easily triple their span. This elf, however, was not all she seemed to be. She had known he was a vampire, and to make matters worse, she chose him for who he was - pure-blood. If she were sired from a pure-blood vampire, being an elf on top of that would make her nearly unstoppable, and unstoppable she became. Through his actions Desmon was exiled from his family's fortune, cast into the shadows, and left for dead. Desmon, however, didn't die nor did he let his horrors simply fall into the hands of his kin. He had started this problem, and he would finish it. Only there was one problem: hunters. They came in every shape, form, size and variant, there were even some of his kin that had given themselves over to a life of servitude and observation. For their services in hunting down their own kind and others like themselves they were compensated with a life outside of who they would have been. The shameful part of it was that they could have achieved the same thing by simply striving for it within their original community. Desmon had strove to become something he wasn't born into, he strove to become something more than a simple pure-blood. In the end it was all he could be, and because of who he was, he was now being pursued closely. She was a Huntress, and from what he had ever seen of her she was a young one. Skill nevertheless as the girl had taken multiple shots at him from afar with bolts specially designed for killing his kind. Luckily Desmon wasn't such an easy target to hit, nor was he so easy to kill. He'd never been so brazen as to attack her, it would only make his situation even worse. But there was only so much one could take before they snapped. The village the young Huntress had come up to had been spared the torch many of the other typical sites had. But blood still hung heavily in the air, even from the outskirts she would have noticed. And she did, her shrieking sounding not only to her location but also her mental state of mind. What the Huntress didn't know however was that the man who had been tracked and attacked by her wasn't the one she was really looking for. She thought she was fast, but she didn't really know the meaning of speed. Dark red eyes appeared in the window of a nearby house, illuminated by a burning light from within them. As the eyes closed, the figure who had been there did too. But not for long. Within a breath of time, the figure burst from the shadows at a speed where it could only be seen as a streak of darkness. The dark trench coat wearing figure hit the ground in a crouched position, ready to make his next move. The piercing red eyes looked up at the female hunter, taking in her full features and burning them into his mind. But then something else happened, and it made his crimson dilated eyes to dim and return to pupils. "Leave me alone! This does NOT involve your kind!" Desmon demanded loudly.

Rose was shocked awake. She was lying in a metal corner of the Collector's TARDIS, her eyes still a little golden. She shrieked and got up, her naked breasts bouncing as she went to see what her master wanted. She got lost easily in the TARDIS, it was so huge, corridors looking the same. She was desperate to please the Collector, it was all she knew now. Following on her heels was an equally naked Amy. She had been shocked too, sending her whole body flying through the small room. Her wedding night now long forgotten, she could only think of the Collector. They both arrived at the same time at the TARDIS console room, collapsing at their knees.

The Collector noticed his chosen two subjects enter the room. He lazily gestured towards his hard cock, which was as long as a woman's fore arms and as thick as a fist. The Collector was probably a good three hundred pounds overweight, for a human at least. He had medium-length white blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. Thick blonde pubic hair was obvious. Unlike The Doctor's TARDIS, The collector's was a much newer model. Black was a major color, along with chrome, ad oak resembling wood, and LED-esque lights. It should have seemed a bit dark, but because of the lighting it worked. His TARDIS was a combination of two types used heavily during the war, a heavy assault and prison model. Thus he could make nearly infinite cells, cages, etc. The collector had started out collecting spores and fungi from various doomed and dying planets. But as time passed his interest grew. Soon he was collecting species. Then people of importance. Recently he'd decided to go after The Doctor's companions. Watching on a screen as Romana 1 and Romana 2 were introduced to the 100 tentacle beast of Rigel 2, in a dome pumped with a potent arousal forcer. The Collector liked watching the bitch suffer. The Collector spared his pets a look. Amy Pond and Rose Tyler, both allowed only 12-inch heels and collars, were kept around for amusement and to help him in the ways he needed. Jackie Tyler was kept around for sustenance. She was responsible for looking food for him and giving food to the pets who became obvious by their swollen breasts. Jackie's breasts were full of the vitamins and nutrient-enriched fluid that allowed the pets to function and not starve or require liquid. The living organism that kept Jackie from being able to get off fed on her aroused hormones and cunt juices. Her nipples were as sensitive as a clitoris, and her breasts were agony thirty minutes after the girls had fed. The clips on her nipples could only be removed by The Collector, so she knew to beg him to allow the girls to feed when the agony reached a certain point. He listened for the pets to beg him to allow them to pleasure him. It had taken alot of training to properly prepare them, but he enjoyed the work.

Hideki Sato had not been back to Republic City for many years, and with good reason. He had always been a bit of a prodigy, good at working with machines and numbers. That was perhaps one of the reasons that his father had sent him out to oversee a few factories in Earth Kingdom territory. Another reason was likely an attempt to keep his youngest child safe before the Equalists made their move (A move that was thankfully bested). Now at fifteen however, he was making a much needed return home. He had worked himself rather vigorously to keep the factories up to snuff with his standards, and now he felt he could do with some actual relaxation. The car pulled to a halt at the Sato manor, parking by the entranceway. The chauffeur exited quietly and opened the door for the young master, who then proceeded to hop out. His shoes were leather and neatly polished, his lower legs exposed while his upper portion was covered by a pair of fine brown shorts. As a top, Hideki wore a crisp white shirt and red overcoat, both formed from a fine fabric. He nodded to the driver in thanks, fixed his circular spectacles into place, and carried on towards the front door. Much like his sister's hair, Hideki's was a lush black, though he kept it short and well maintained in contrast to her temptress fashion. The cute teen pushed the doors open and made his way along the lush carpeted floor. Ah... home at last.

Forty-six... forty-seven... forty-eight.... forty-nine... fifty. At last, fifty. Korra allowed herself to collapse. She'd earned it. After a full two months of practice, she had finally been able to do fifty handstand pushups. That, by itself, wasn't an unheard of physical feat. But what had made it so hard was that Korra had performed that feat after her normal workout. Earthbending, firebending, waterbending, then cardio, then calisthenics and nonbending martial arts. She'd feel this workout in the morning. But for now, her muscles were taught, tight, and had it not been for a quick use of waterbending, she might have been sweating. Maybe she'd take a dip in a pool next, or a spa, or something else like that. Being friends with a rich robber baroness had its advantages. Like the clothing she was wearing. It wasn't affordable on an Avatar's wages, not by a longshot. The material was latex, or spandex, or something like that, and it clung so tightly to Korra that she might not have been wearing anything at all. The garments themselves were brief, a sports bra that left her midriff bare and a pair of shorts so short that they were simply a band around her hips. Panting slightly, just enough that the curves of her chest were emphasized, Korra reached behind her head and undid the band holding her hair in place. She then stroked through it once, then twice, and then she turned to the doorway and saw him. And the moment she saw that face, that hair, she knew who he was. "Hideki, right?" she said. "Welcome back to Republic City. Asami's not here right now, something must have held her at the office..." she continued to chatter on, then, about what his elder sister was up to, and how much she had been looking forward to meeting him, and all those sorts of things. He wasn't likely to have paid any attention to it, though, given the Avatar's state of dress... or undress.

Mary Jane was waiting for her friend Quinn. Most would have called Quinn her boyfriend, but Mary Jane wasn't the kind of girl who would be caught in a relationship. But in the past few months, she had been just that. Quinn had been a fantastic guy who had swept the legs out from under her. He wasn't like the guys she normally dated, but there was something about him that made Mary Jane happy when she was with him. He was really a great guy. He had even cared for her when she had come down with a terrible cold a few weeks back. Just her luck to get a cold in the middle of the summer and then one that kept her in bed for almost two weeks. But now she felt good again. She actually felt better than ever before. Maybe the summer was giving her extra energy. Today Mary Jane wore a tight black top and a pair of tight jeans that showed off her hot figure. She didn't mind the heads she turned, in fact she loved it. Her red hair was hanging free but looked (as usual) like it had just been styled. She was sitting on a bench outside of campus at the university and was passing the time by studying people. She could see several people gathering at the entrance. They were there to hear a lecture from some Dr. Octavius. It was something about some science thingy that were so far outside Mary Jane's field of expertise as it could come. She looked at her phone to see what time it was. Maybe if Quinn for once were late she could tease him with that. She smiled to herself thinking of Quinn. He was a fine guy, and one day she knew she'd slip up and actually call him her boyfriend.

Quinn was still finding it rather hard to believe that he was spending so much time with Mary Jane Watson, the Mary Jane Watson. They had met a few months ago and, somehow, they had begun talking. From there they had somehow begun to spend time together! More and more every week, and then when she had come down with a rather bad cold he had been more than happy to help take care of her. Sometimes he wondered....were they really a couple now? They seemed to act like it sometimes....some of their get togethers could even be possibly described as dates. But yet Quinn's own lack of self confidence kept him from truly admitting it. Or maybe it was a reluctance to admit it for both his own and her protection. If word got out that they were a couple...well....it wouldn't go down well with most people that one of the most sought after women in New York was dating some nerdy no name like him. Besides, if his parents ever found out....good lord, they would hound him to bring her to meet them....the embarassment would be far too much for him to handle. The boy glanced at his watch as he made his way towards the meeting spot they had arranged, he was running slightly late. Well, to him he was anyway. Most would probably say they were right on time, but to Quinn if he wasn't there early then he was late in his mind. "Oh man...come on...if I'm late...." He shook his head and started walking a little faster. He could see the crowd gathering at the entrance to one of the science buildings, that's right, there was going to be a lecture today by Dr. Octavius. Normally it was the kind of thing Quinn would absolutely love to go to, where he would hang off of every word. But now...spending time with Mary Jane just seemed more important, not to mention much more enjoyable. Finally he spotted the bench, and then the unmistakable firey red hair of Mary Jane Watson. As he got closer he couldn't help but notice the form fitting outfit she was wearing....a bit of red creeping onto his cheeks. "Oh my..." How? How was it that he got to spend time with this girl? How was it that they were virtually a couple? Just as he had done several times before Quinn had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The momentary sting confirmed he was indeed awake. He swallowed nervously, taking one more deep breath, then approached the bench with a smile, raising his hand to wave softly. "Hi MJ..." MJ....to use such a nickname...it almost felt so intimate...it was still difficult for him to use it, but she had insisted, and he just couldn't say no to her. "Sorry if I'm a little late. I swear I'll make it up to you somehow

The various types of Zerg which made up the swarm could be seen as rather simple, yet surprisingly complex creatures. They seemed to live for little else than to destroy, conquer and evolve to increase their numbers at the expense of other species. For those looking on from the outside, it may seem as if that was enough for the vicious creatures. To an extent, they were correct. But with so many different types of Zerg, there were those which carried with them other needs which didn't focus upon their newest conquests. Baser needs which were near universal amongst a majority of species and, while perhaps lower on the tier of desires for the Zerg than those which fit their more destructive nature, were very much alive within them. The hive was alive with nearly countless numbers of Zerg. Various types of units could be found here by any unlucky soul who dared to make a move against their kind. And near the center of this large, living infrastructure of connecting organisms was the infamous Queen of Blades. Various types of Zerg would circle around her general location as they saw to protecting and aiding the infested female in any manner to which she required of them. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship. One of mutual benefit in a way that others would view as twisted beyond words. And it was this relationship that had caused a number of their rank to sense something different stirring within the female. The majority continued with their regular routines within the hive, except for a pair of viper type Zergs who sought out the Queen's current location. The two were among the healthiest and most virile of their unit. A logical choice in potential partners for their current leader. The pair moved along the creep that nearly covered the entirety of the hives floor, as they approached the female in whatever she may be doing and called to her with what to most would seem a simple primal snarl. They walked with intent in their step as the pair gazed upon their Queen and, without words, seemed to begin relaying how they sensed a need within her. A need which they sought to satisfy for the sake of the hive.

That the Zerg had changed her with the process of infestation was obvious to Kerrigan and many others besides, but for those many others she suspected that was where consideration of the matter halted. Out of the pain that memory alone brought them for Jim Raynor and the remnants of the Raiders, out of fear for what might become known were that memory to spread for Mengsk and his own... Kerrigan was fairly certain that she was the only one who wondered how she had changed the Zerg... In fact she suspected she had changed the zerg almost as much as they had changed her, though many of those changes were not precisely obvious to anyone who did not examine the creatures closely. Part of it was her gender she knew... The Zerg technically did not have genders when she arrived, the hives themselves and the queens could technically be designated as female due to the fact that both produced children in some form or another but neither required a male to fertilize their eggs, millennia of selective breeding and carefully enforced mutations ensuring that both were technically asexual and capable of fertilizing their eggs on their own internally. Kerrigan's arrival had forced a dichotomy upon the hive though, where before there were nothing but asexually-replicating creatures, now there was one half of a binary, a half that occasionally demanded to become whole. Kerrigan was female and a powerful psychic to boot, the infestation had done nothing to diminish her desires as a woman -if anything it had increased her libido- and had only enhanced her psychic powers. In short, the hive knew when she wanted to get fucked and responded to satisfy that urge for sex, and in order to do that, the hive's creatures needed to become male, but in copying something of the template for maleness from her mind, they had taken her urges as well, creating a loop. She wondered how her hive would cope if she were removed from it... Would their unsated urges cause them to rampage? Would they adapt as they already had, and eliminate maleness and libido as quickly as they'd produced it? Would they seek out human women like her to infest so that they could sate themselves? Kerrigan lingered on that mental image -dozens of human women being infested and turned into fuck-toys for the hive to loose their newfound lusts upon- and a slight smile touched at her lips as she unfolded her legs and reached down to the space between them that was beginning to gather heat. She stroked her outer lips and labia, letting out a soft sigh as pleasure tingled where she touched, looking up and smiling as a pair of hydralisks entered the chamber precisely on cue. Even had she not known where they were due to her connection with them as their leader she knew by now exactly how long it took them to respond to her arousal after all. The purple flesh of her womanhood beginning to glisten with moisture as her arousal grew with anticipation, Kerrigan stepped down from her 'throne' where she sat and strode -hips swaying seductively- towards the serpentine Zerg forms, reaching out to caress their own growing manhoods, taking each in one hand even though both were larger than her fingers could quite fit around and stroking slowly.

The question came as a random musing at one point, who was the mightiest in the realm? Bards and sages alike debated this matter and the answer was simply too complex to answer with one name. In the end, it came down to two groups of warriors, those competing in the League of Legends and those locked in eternal war between The radiant and the dire. There was only one way to find out, pitch the two groups against one another and see who comes out on top. It was a celebration of warfare like nothing the world has ever seen and when you have celebrations, people become drunk, with alcohol, with fame, sex and all the vices one can think of. Raigor Stonehoof, once merely a spirit of the earth, took advantage of this. He wanted to experience life, and sex was a big part of it. His victories, coupled with his size and endurance made him a very wanted man indeed. "Oh, he's just a big stud," Miss Fortune chuckled. "Mhm, he took out our nexus and I fucked him to congratulate him, god he gave me pounding... Earthshaker is such an apt name," Caitlyn confirmed. The three ladies turned to Ashe knowingly. "Too bad you'll never get to try him out," the pirate purred. "But I'm sure Tryndamere is enough of a stud to keep you satisfied." Her marriage with the warrior was well highlighted, it seemed, leaving her out of the little fuck-fest that the other ladies were indulging in during the festivities. A shame, really, some of the debauchery became legends of their own and the 'Earthshaker' is one of the more infamous lovers. "Actually..." Katarina smirked, leaning forward to put her chin on her hands. "I rode Tryndamere once... Long before your marriage," her lips curled up even more. "Nowhere half as thick as Raigor.

Married woman as she was, Ashe had found it difficult to partake in the discussion. Tryndamere was not best of lovers but he could consistently satisfy her with his sheer size at least, and it made it difficult to break faith with him. He was just good enough to keep her from following through with any other partnership, even if she considered it every so often. With the festival though, that was being taken to its limits, as an entirely new and not nearly as intertwined cast of heroes from another dimensions had impinged upon their own, many of them unattached. The League's ladies had taken to them with Gusto, and the gossip mill was alight with wild tales of sexual prowess, size, and stamina, this little bar talk being a case in point. When Katarina finally smirked that Raigor (who was one of the prominent objects of easily half the stories Ashe had heard) was twice Tryndamere's size though? That was the breaking point. "Nowhere half?" She scoffed, narrowing her ice-blue eyes at the lot of them. "There's no way. And even if there was..." She didn't finish the sentence instead whirling to storm away from the table. Raigor this and Raigor that, Ashe had more than half a mind to find the man and see for herself, in some part convinced that they couldn't be right, but in larger part curious that they might be, and wanting to try Raigor out for herself if they were. After all, while Tryndamere satisfied her, he rarely went above and beyond the call of duty in bed, and Ashe found herself wanting more on occasion. Divorce was not common in Valoran and so she'd had no prior desire to make a spectacle of herself by leaving him but now, with all this fresh meat and new stories, perhaps she could get away with a minimum of fuss...That is if Raigor proves better of course, slow down girl...Ashe reminded herself as she prowled the fairground, searching for the Earthshaker's hulking form so that she could challenge him to a 'One on one match' in the howling abyss. The place was cold but it was close to her Freljordian home, and quite private. Besides, she doubted they'd have any trouble keeping warm.

This is a roleplay about Harley Quinn finding a new boss after being kicked out by the Joker. She finds a young member of her crew to take over, teaching him the ins and outs of crime and the benefits of being in a relationship with her. The roleplay will include crossovers with DC, as well as featuring celebrities too. Some male heroes and villains may also be genderbent into female characters. The main characters in this are Harley Quinn, and my OC, Curtis Smith. The title of the thread is 'Game Over' because the identity that is eventually created for him will be Video Game related.

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

Ryan Morris Age: 35 Height: 5' 11" Weight: 195 lbs. Ryan Morris was a self-made millionaire. He owned a very successful company that sold consumer electronics to various businesses. He sold it a few years ago for $250 million. He took that money and through good investing he figured he was set for life. He bought 50 acres of land in the country outside of Detroit, Michigan. There is some woods, a natural pond fed by a waterfall and some open fields of land. He built a nice two story house there for him to live in. He had just about everything. The only thing he was missing was someone to share it with. He had gone on a lot of dates over the years but he still hadn't found the one. The two most important people in his life were his 33 year old sister, Gwenevere. But everyone called her Gwen. And her 10 year old daughter, Annabelle. Ryan and Gwen lost their parents in a car crash a few years ago and Annabelle's father was a one night stand that Gwen had. Gwen and Annabelle lived in the suburbs of Detroit and visited him often. One night, there was a big thunderstorm. He was watching CNN, when there was a very loud lighting strike. Ryan saw the flash of light and it looked ice blue more than white. Then, a few moments later he heard a knock on his door. He was surprised that anyone would be traveling in this weather. He went to the door and was surprised to see two young women there. One dressed like Elsa from the movie Frozen. The other was dressed like her sister Anna.

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

It had been a long day since she left from her last resting spot, and here it was with the sun starting to set, and her feet were killing her. "Just a bit longer, boy," Himeko said, looking down at the giant cat walking alongside her. Himeko Sunsorrow had been on a secret mission for Vol'Jin and had left her home in Silvermoon months ago. With the dark portal being opened again, but this time with legions of Iron Horde members pouring through it instead of demons, she would have been sent to the front lines with the others from her squad. But her Warchief needed her to find information about how Garrosh had managed to escape, and that there would be information somewhere in an uncharted place on the map. Vol'Jin had had his scouts search for this place and found somewhere close to where they were looking for, which is why Himeko had been sent out. She was one of the true members of the Horde who stood by what the Horde was meant to be and helped overthrow the former Warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream. She was a skilled tracker and a great huntress, so this mission was most suited for her. The forest seemed to go on forever, and both she and her companion were tired and weary from the long day they'd had. "Wait, do you smell that Tosho? Smells like a lake nearby. Which means a good place to rest and call it a night." She said softly as she reached down and petted the beast behind the ears. His glowing frosty blue eyes looked up towards her as he purred happily from the attention. They didn't know that they had been followed from the last village they had been at, seeing as whoever it was was very good at concealing themselves from both of them. After a little bit more of walking, they both found themselves at a large clearing in the forest, with a large lake. "Ahhh... A nice place to set up camp for the night," she sighed happily as she walked over to the edge of the lake. "I know we've been traveling for a long time, and I promise to make it up to you... But can you go get us fresh meat? I promise to fix it the way you like it." She asked Tosho, who looked up at her, shaking his head before nodding and then heading off to go hunting. After watching his figure vanish into the forest, she then started unpacking and setting up her campsite, fixing the tent up for the night. As she stripped down till she was completely nude, she removed her helm and placed it neatly on her armor. As soon as the helm had been removed, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the surroundings around her while her silver hair waved slightly in the air. Leaving her bow, arrows, and other weapons with her armor behind, she walked into the lake. "Nnnn... Cold but feels very refreshing," she murmured softly as she took the time to do a few laps in the lake before going back to the edge to relax and rest a bit, seeing as it would take a good while before Tosho returned with dinner.

Opportunities had to be taken when they arose, or at least, these days that was the way she lived. Before, she'd actually been a respected Paladin, serving the Light and fighting the forces of darkness, heavy plate and hammer in hand. Not since her run-in with a foul little imp of a Goblin when she was passing through Ironforge had she been able to continue her quest. Since then she had been transformed, in more ways than one. Her body had been altered, turning her from a proud warrior and a woman, to something slightly different. Her body was mostly the same, the violet skin smooth and without imperfections, her bust had grown slightly, her hips wider now, her hair and horns were as they had always been, even her legs, leading down to hooves, as all Dranaei had, were the same. The biggest change though, was between her legs. Where once her womanhood rested, now an engorged and throbbing shaft stood, pressed against her stomach, like it usually was. She'd been hexed for turning down the Goblin's advances, not aware that it was a powerful Warlock cursed as she was to have endless lust and to lust after those of her own sex. She had never been able to remain in any settlement for long, always being drawn to one woman or another, leaving her a mess of sweat and semen and lust. The shame of it alone would have been enough to force her to leave, but the way they came after her, chasing her, hungry looks in their eyes... She was sure they wanted retribution for what she'd done. No, she had to leave, stay on the move, lest she be lynched and hanged for her crimes. She had gone from a proud, righteous Paladin, to a lustful creature, unable to control herself or her desires. She always felt the need for sex, always felt it pounding through her body, in her ears, constantly. Even as she left the last village she had been, she had caught sight of an Elf, young and lithe, which had gotten her blood pumping. The way its animal companion followed her though, she was sure that she wouldn't have a chance to get to her, at least not safely... No, she'd have to wait... She'd have to follow her, wait till she was alone, or at least till she could deal with the pet... Ellerii blinked at the thought train, realizing just how heinous it was. She was already planning on ambushing this woman, ambushing her and taking advantage... She couldn't do it, but then, she'd already been following her for hours... The sun had already begun to lower in the sky by that point, night overtaking the light of day. She bit her lip as she realized that there was no turning back now. All she could do was remain out of sight, follow this one, and maybe, just maybe it would be over quickly... She held back a good distance, little more than cloth protecting her now, her armor, her hammer, both gone, pawned off to pay for her travels. She had nothing to her name any more... She watched as the animal and the Elf separated, and realized that her chance had come... She followed through the brush, slowly, silently, watching as the Elf made for a lake. She swallowed as the Elf stripped, feeling the lust burn inside her, till she couldn't wait any longer. She made her way out of the trees, pulling the cloth dress over her head, and letting it fall silently to the shore of the lake, before she slipped into the cool water, barely feeling its coolness against her burning skin. She was like a shadow as she approached, closer and closer, till she was within arm's reach, and then she struck. Her arms wrapped around the Elf, her hands going straight up to her breasts, squeezing them gently, as she pulled her back, pressing her own body forward, her breasts mashing against the Elf's back, and the length of her rock hard shaft pressing against her sweet cheeks. "You are divine..." She purred in her ear as she ran her tongue along her neck. "Let me please you, let me show you everything..." She was lost to the curse by that point, her own rational mind crushed beneath the weight of the lust.

MARGAERY Swathed in robes of silken blue, Queen Margaery Tyrell strode through the halls of the Red Keep with her head held high. Her footfalls echoed lightly against the thick stone walls of the castle, but her heart was heavy, for today King Joffrey had been poisoned, and she was a Queen without a husband. It wasn't grief that weighed upon her however, but rather a sense of duty, and a foreboding impression that now time was of the essence. Today was a day that she had been anticipating for what seemed like a lifetime, but before the day had ended her King was dead, murdered at his own wedding ceremony. She wouldn't mourn for Joffrey; he was, after all, a cruel young man, but this afternoon's events had thrown everything about her into turmoil. Cersei would be even more paranoid than before, and she feared what ideas the woman might instill in young Tommen's head. Ah yes, Tommen. The King-to-be, and Margaery's future husband. Whatever happened in the coming days and weeks, she must ensure that Tommen was on her side, and not that of his mother, the Queen Regent. And so with stately elegance she strode towards Tommen's living quarters, to impress upon him the importance of their coming union. I've come to see the King, she spoke upon reaching Tommens chambers, pausing momentarily before transferring to him the title that only hours ago had belonged to his older brother. Her husband. Her King. Of course, your Highness, answered the guard, bowing his head in reverence. He opened the door for her and she swept within, the ends of her skirts trailing across the lavish red rug that lead into Tommens chambers. It cushioned the footsteps that had rung quietly in the hallways, the only sound that could be heard as she strode towards the bed chamber were that of the heavy wooden door closing behind her.

Tommen Baratheon was a troubled young man. How could he not be, with a family with troubles? His mother was the Queen Regent, yet held no respect. Rumored to have incest relations with her brother, Jaime. Whether she did or not, Tommen would hold his judgment until he knew it to be fact. His uncle was a warrior yet lost his hand, and now could barely protect himself let alone others. His sister was sent off to Dorne for an arranged marriage, and his brother, who had just been King, was poisoned at his own wedding. With those thoughts in mind, Tommen was by far the most normal of the Lannisters. Despite being a Baratheon, he had no one to compare himself to except his father who was a drunk and lazy, and killed while hunting a boar or some such creature. Today, his brother had died at his own wedding. Poisoned. It would be hard to find out who did it, as no one enjoyed him as a king, so every single person had motive. Due to his sudden death, the title of King would be moved once again to the next member of the family, which turned out to be himself. Tommen had figured he would be in this spot at some point, but not this soon. As soon as the chaos had died down a bit, Tywin, his grandfather, gave him some books to study in order to become King officially within a week or two. Did he want to be King though? This was the third time that the title had moved from person to person in a matter of years. Why would he want to be king when the last two didn't die of natural causes? Hell, someone intended the King to die, it was no accident. Would he be safe? Tommen had been hunched over a book, staring at the words while he had these thoughts, the writing on the page not being processed. He had been startled out of them when the door suddenly opened. Due to his thoughts about safety, he was instantly weary, but relaxed as he saw who entered. Blushing lightly to himself, he realized that she would be the reason he became King. Who didn't want to be married to someone like her? "Lady Tyrell," Tommen said formally, bowing his head from his spot on the chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked. His voice sounded confident, but there was an inkling of doubt. Of timidness. He was not trained to be a king like his father and brother, and could muddle things up in an instant.

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

Ryan Morris Age: 35 Height: 5' 11" Weight: 195 lbs. Hair: Brown Eyes: Hazel Body Type: Athletic. Ryan Morris at one point in his life had it all. He was the founding partner of a very successful public relations company. He also had a beautiful wife, Annabelle. But everything changed about 5 years ago. One night, Ryan and Annabelle were in a terrible car accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and crashed into the passenger side of their car. Ryan was OK, but Annabelle was killed instantly. After Ryan got out of the hospital, he sold his share of the company to his partners and moved to his and Annabelle's cabin in the mountains near Lake Tahoe. He builds a cabin after he made his first $10,000,000 It had all the amenities, full electricity, Satellite TV and Internet. One winter's day he was coming back from town, there was a big blizzard coming, and he wanted to make sure he had plenty of food. The weather report said they could get up to three feet of snow that night. Enough to keep him inside for a month or two. He was unloading his car when he heard a female voice call out. "Oh God!" He grabbed his skis and headed in the direction of the voice. He saw someone in the snow unconscious. Furthermore, he walked up to the person and saw it was a woman. Furthermore, he gently shook her... "Miss... Miss... Are you OK?" He got no answer. He saw the snow was starting to fall. Furthermore, he didn't think he'd have time to get to the hospital before the blizzard hit. Furthermore, he didn't see any blood in the snow. Furthermore, he decided to take he back to his cabin. Furthermore, he picked her up and carried her back to his place. Furthermore, he got her inside and her skin felt very cold. Furthermore, he figured it was at least 15 minutes before he found her. Furthermore, he knew he had to warm her up. Furthermore, he took her back to his bedroom. Then, he sat her on the bed. He took of all of her clothes, and then he went in the closet. He still had all of his late wife's clothes... he couldn't bear to get rid of them. Furthermore, he put a dry purple nightgown and panties on her. Then he tucked her into the bed he put the young woman's clothes by the fire to get dry. As the young woman slept there was something about her that looked familiar, but he didn't know why. Ryan then went into the kitchen to get her some soup.

It was 4:30pm, Ani Bezzerides was driving her partner home when they got a call in. "I told you to turn that radio off," she said, picking it up, the cord with its spirals stretching straight as the cop picked it up and held the button to say, "Go ahead." "We have reports of a body being found in an abandoned garage near the train yard. Address is Lipton Avenue." That wasn't too far away from their current position so Rachel rolled her eyes and breathed a sigh of annoyance as she chewed on a toothpick which was meant to help her stop smoking. "We will take it over," she replied, putting the radio back in its holder and flicking a switch. It made the inside of the car flash blue before the light was placed on top of the unmarked vehicle. Making a sharp turn which had civilians beeping their horns, Ani made her way to the crime scene. Six minutes later, hitting the brakes in front of a squad car, she got out, seeing numerous uniformed officers surrounding the area. Lights were flashing everywhere but it wasn't so bad as it was still daylight. Showing her badge to the man guarding the scene, she bent down underneath the yellow police tape and walked towards the garage. Once inside, Ani looked around, the place was dirty, equipment looked rusty, and the car inside was just as bad. "What am I looking at?" She turned to an officer, who then pointed to the car in the center. Walking towards it, she peered inside through the window and saw guts and organs all over the seats. It was nothing like she had ever seen before, the man had been cut in half and in what looked like a sick work of art, his limbs were placed in the front, hands on the steering wheels, and his feet on the pedals. "Sick fuck!" She said, hands in her jeans pockets. "Look over here," another officer said, taking her to the back windscreen. In blood, there was lettering: 'Lets play a game.' Making her shake her head. While she let him look, the woman in her thirties asked how they found the scene. "That man over there, talking to Officer Moore, said he was walking his dog, stumbled across this place, and then dialed 911.

Well I fucking thought I turned it off," the older man said gruffly, James Irons sat next to her, the older detective shaking his head as they drove through the scorching sun. It was the end of their shift, and they were just minutes away from going home...he had a steak ready in the oven, a cold beer chilling in the fridge, his wife would be curled up in bed getting ready for her night shift at the hospital but he could wake her for a quickie. But noooooo. Some dumb fuck had to go get murdered, and some bastard had to call it in. They were literally two blocks away from his house. As they pulled up to the scene, Irons let his partner head out to see the corpse while he grabbed his revolver and placed it on his hip, then his wallet and badge and headed to the perimeter to check in with the team there. Then he was called back to his partner. The grumpy 40-year-old already greying, standing at a rather impressive 6'2, but his once lean quarterback body slowly sagged back to a beer gut and a hunch. "Fuck sake!" He declared loudly as he leaned down to look inside of the truck. "I'll...I'll be back in a few," the homicide detective said simply. In their few years together, him and Ani had gotten along...rather roughly at first but steadily settled down into their ways. She was boss, he was the brawn. But seeing those fingers still clutching onto the wheel. Too much. Excuse me." he said, barging past a Sheriff's deputy and out behind the garage, thankfully untained by the crime. And puked his guts up. A morning worth of fast food and bile being splattered out the back. By the look of it, he wasn't the first to react that way. Popping a mint, he headed back in. Happy to have that out of his system. "Sorry," he muttered to his stalwart partner. Shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. "I think we need to get the geeks in here..." He muttered. Staring in at the carnage and seeing the lettering. "It looks like we have a freak on our hands..." The police veteran sighed. He hated freaks. He turned and headed over to the witness. Already asking his questions: who owned the garage? any idea when it happened? any idea when it happened? All that good shit. But it was clear that the detective was not in the mood for it all. "You should probably phone your boy toy and cancel that nice candle lit dinner you've obviously been slaving over," he said bluntly as he moved back to the car to start filling in the initial report.

Running. She held her weapon close to her, constantly checking behind her. She was in the school she went to. It was dark, if what she saw out the windows was any indicator it was around midnight. She kept moving until she reached the roof. Her purple bracelet still giving off an eerie glow. Someone was around... Someone dangerous. She ran out onto the roof and saw no one... Until she checked behind her. A pink-haired girl, wielding some kind of pistol stood, with her in the girl's sights. But more importantly, the pink bracelet... She turned and cut the fence link with her naginata, before leaping off the roof... Mizuku Akira woke up with a slight headache. He looked around and saw the small toy his friend had given him. What was it called? 'Hyperthermic kitsune' or something like that. It was a fox, seemingly frozen with its guts hanging out. Part of some brand of entrails animals. He started to move and felt something weird. It was almost as if he had something on his... Wrist... He looked at his wrist, and wrapped around it was a tight purple bracelet. It was just like the one in his dream... He wondered what the ever-living fuck was going on, but didn't panic until he heard a voice behind him. "Hey there! You're an odd pick! But oh well! I'm touketsu kitsune! And I'm here to help you understand your new life!" He slowly turned around to see the little fox plushie standing up and waving. "Okay, I'm still dreaming!" He declared after a second or two, laying back down on the bed with a sigh. "Wake up Akira-san! You've got school." He rolled over and started getting ready as the little stuffed animal told him some things about his new life. "So you're telling me... That I will turn into a girl if I'm around one of the other 'Kmpfer'. And that I have to fight these other girls and... Why?" The plush simply shrugged and tried to push him out the door. "You're gonna be late." The boy walked out of his home immensely confused and wishing this was some sick joke. Sadly, he didn't think it was. He shot a look both ways before crossing the street. His walk to school was long and gave him time to think.

A Kampfer is a person chosen to fight by Moderators, whoever they may be, and gifted with extraordinary abilities. Any girl falls under one of the three categories: Zauber, Gewehr or Schwert better known as Magic, Gun and Sword. Not only is there that but each Kampfer goes into one of three teams, for lack of a better word: Pink, Purple or White. Pink and Purple fight, and White acts as a sort of police force? Watanabe Naomi never came across one, but that's the impression she has, hearing it from Bullethole Leopard -or Swiss Cheese, as she has come to call him over the past couple months. "Naomi-san, wake up!" came the plushie's annoying voice, breaking through the pleasant dream she was having. "Time for school~!" Beady eyes came to land on a form tangled in sheets and curled in on itself, a mischievous glint reflecting off buttons... which sounds impossible, but somehow is. With a shuffle and a grunt, he managed to climb up onto the bed, and dove right into her breasts, earning a strangled cry. "Do not sleep away your youth, Naomi-san!" Bullethole cried out, paws embracing her breasts as he shook his head back and forth... the plushie obviously being in heaven. You must open your eyes, and seize the day! A hand descended in order to grasp onto his head, and with that, he was thrown off at the nearby wall. Back off, ya pervert!! Naomi cried out, eyes flashing with temper, almost like the heart of flames, and tendrils of messy pink falling about her features. Can't I get up in the morning without bein groped?! That said, Naomi threw back the blankets and was on her feet in a flash, stretching her arms high above her head. I swear I never get a moment to myself With another glare tossed in his direction, Naomi went about her business, changing into the uniform that society demands she wears on a daily basis, climbing through her hair, and digging around for her shoes. In five minutes or so -who's counting, really?- Naomi was walking out the door with not a second glance. Her long, pink hair flowed out from behind, catching the light and reflecting it quite nicely. The girl walked with a grace that is undeniable and her eyes shone like sapphires, almost. I can't believe him she grumbled under her breath, shaking her head and brushing pink behind her shoulder.

Tommy smiled as he hurried down the hill before him, excited to see Absol again after not seeing her for two days. He had been busy with some errands that needed tending to from the highest priority. Regardless, he rather spend more time with Absol, despite the fact that she was not one who was tamed to any human or wild Pokemon. She was...interesting to say the least, as Tommy never met a Pokemon like her before. It was funny considering that he was supposedly the first human she ever met. "God it's bright," Tommy closed his eyes slightly as he glanced up towards the sky before looking forward. His brown hair and blue eyes were bright as ever, as the sun's rays were quite something today. He wore simple shorts and sneakers, with a travel vest over his shirt. He smiled as he came to the clearing where Absol waited for him.

Despite humans and Pokemon living together, Absol would normally be away from them, only to show up in case they sensed a disaster of some kind. The same could be said for the one particular Absol he had met. She was fairly young, just old enough to be considered an adult though. She had not been all too knowledgeable about humans due to her kind's preference for isolation, her curiosity leading to her slipping out from time to time and eventually meeting Tommy. He had been curious about her, considering his people would say that humans were rather devious and lustful, wanting nothing more than to have a Pokemon like her under them to command and use. It was hard for him to imagine, especially after meeting her. She didn't seem the kind to do something like that, though her mind would wander a lot as she thought about if he did do that. She squirmed just thinking about it as she waited for him, simple garbs on her body to cover up, but also provide plenty of movement. She had to be ready at any time to warn others after all. Hearing his footsteps, she poked out from her hiding spot in the bushes, relieved to see it was him. "So you came again.

Masuna Haswell had always dreamed of being in the Alliance military and she achieved that dream several years ago. Hearing the stories of the great Commander Shepard and how she saved the galaxy made her inspired to achieve her dream of being in the history books. Her next step was to become a Spectre, the special agency of elite soldiers in the galaxy and who only answer to the Council. Masuna was always one to play by the rules however, as she never questioned orders from whomever her commanding officer was. This would be her latest test to see if she really was a suitable recruit for the Spectres. Masuna recently heard she would have a partner joining her in this training exercise. However, she had been waiting a long time and didn't know how much longer she would have to wait. She may have played by the rules a little too much, but Masuna was not known for her patience. As she tuned up her sniper rifle and made sure it was loaded, she grew increasingly impatient. How long was this new partner going to make her wait? Just from the looks of the current situation, she knew that whoever would show up would not be likable in the least.

Thomas Massacre Shepard groaned as his omni-tool went off. The former Red Tails enforcer sat up slowly. He blinked as the clock showed the time. Swearing lightly, he smacked the naked Asari in the bed on the ass. Both women groaned as Thomas said, Sorry ladies, you gotta get the fuck out. One of the Asari a dancer rubbed his hard pecks, But Commander, we wanted to give you a good morning kiss. Thomas chuckled, as he said, Well I suppose I have time for a quick kiss. The other Asari spoke, I don't want to kiss you on the mouth, she moved between his legs and smiled. Thomas smiled back, leaning back, it was the first day he could be a bit late. An hour later, around thirty minutes late, Thomas stumbled from the shower. Pulling on his hard suit. It was an almost black red, with neon green highlights. The N-8 designation on his left breast plate. Thomas had soon called a sky car. Wondering why he was here. Thomas had been a member of the Red Tails, his father a workaholic, his mother a slut. Both had lived their lives with the Shepard name. Thomas had discovered young that he liked to fight. He was good at it too. He'd probably still be in the Red Tails if he hadn't gotten busted, a group of Blue Sun and Eclipse mercs had attempted to force out some Red Tails on a colony. Thomas had been found drenched in Asari and Salarian blood, medi-gel barely holding his insides in. His great great great, bloody ancient grandmother had visited him an they'd had a conversation. She said she saw the Shepard rage in him. Since he was sixteen at the time, she was having his sentence deferred but she was going into personal training with her, then joining the military if he wanted to avoid a major sentence. Thomas had agreed, and here he was. Tied for top place in the N-8 program, a scary powerful biotic and a true soldier. He'd disobey orders if they were something he didn't like. He was brutal and efficient. He'd earned the name Massacre after he'd been sent to deal with some pirates and killed them all. His lax view of following the rules meant he had some enemies, but he inspired loyalty in his men. Stepping into the office, he saw his new partner, nodding he said, Sorry I'm late, my hard suit's shield plate wasn't coming completely online, I had to take it out and adjust it a bit. Has our Superior Officer checked in yet? Thomas moved towards his desk, glad his gear was here. He took it out an began checking it over.