Thread: The Crossover Christmas Special (TheCorsair, Xanaphia, Madam Mim)

Faye let her shoulders sag for a moment, dropping her eyes at the same time. Maybe... maybe you're right, she whispered tonelessly. Clara loosened her grip on the other woman's wrist, then gasped and gagged as Faye's knee slammed into her gut and blew the air from her lungs. But I'll risk it! she snarled, ripping her arm away from the young Paladin and charging towards Matthias. And you die , you... you... What? Fuck! Who's doing this! Everyone looked around, then slowly all eyes turned towards Quentin. He stood with his right arm raised, palm upwards, watching Faye as her legs kicked helplessly a good foot above the ground. Maybe you should listen, he told her, voice sounding strained and unnaturally calm. He's... He's a fucking demon ! Faye roared, snatching a dagger from her belt and hurling it at him. You don't know what he's done! Quentin reached out with the Force and caught the dagger, stopping it dead a meter from her hand. I know exactly what he's done, he answered, voice shaking as he fought for control. I can read it in the Force. He is... marbled with darkness. But I can see his destiny, and he is reaching towards the light. So fucking what? Faye spat. So he gets a pass, because some magic knight says he's trying to be good? He barely heard her. The Force was... was wild here. Savage. Not of the Dark Side, but not of the Light either. It was primal . Feral. All of his training was required to hold on to himself, to resist the urge to run wild with the strength that flowed through him. He could feel the trauma she'd endured. Taste the atrocities that this Matthias had inflicted in the past, atrocities that the ancient Lords of the Sith eclipsed only because they'd possessed the ability to travel to the stars. No... one... is... beyond... redemption... I'll... Faye began. You will be silent ! Quentin roared, wind whipping around him as his control began to slip. Between blinks his eyes became crimson double-slitted orbs, and he could feel his body struggling to change. Struggling to become something other , as his back ached and his skin crawled and he could feel his teeth transforming into daggers. Do you dare defy... and then he tripped, crashing heavily into the ground as a black cat got underfoot. Before he could rise to his feet it lept onto his back, and he cried out in pain as it bit the back of his neck. Faye and the dagger dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Good gentle folk! cried a new voice as a red-haired young man dressed in a motley assemblage of furs and chains lept into the sudden silence. He clattered and jangled as he spun and whirled, throwing his arms wide. Well met, people of the Twelve Kingdoms and of al-Nithiel, and of merry old England and of worlds long, long ago and far, far away! I trust the solstice finds you all well? Oh fuck me, John breathed, it's one of the Good Neighbors. You have it right, Captain Jack Sparrow! The ragged man bowed, clattering and jangling. Queen Titania speaks often of you, and of your fair lady. I have the honor of being that fair and noble sprite known to some as Robin Goodfellow and to others as the Puck, and by the leave of the lord of these lands I have come to extend the invitation of my master Oberon to attend a midwinter revel! What if we refuse, djinn? Yusef asked, gripping one of the amulets that hung about his neck. Why then you would make me foresworn, the Puck replied, becoming a dark-haired woman as she dropped into a crouch. And call me a goblin, or call me a fool, but none has ever the Puck a liar called! Chains jangled as she shifted, watching. I've always liked a challenge, Yusef replied with a smirk. So, we refuse. It is too late, oh Consort of the Onyx Queen, the Puck laughed. Look you around. Is this the city in which you once stood? His last name is Shane, Jackie informed her wife with a laugh. Not every Irishman's name starts with Mick or O. We got the same...great-great-grandma I think, so we don't share a name. But it's probably a good idea not to ever call him English again. Ever. Ah reckon not, Sam replied with a laugh. Be like callin' me a Yankee, Ah reckon. She bounded to her feet, grabbing Kieran's hand and shaking it vigorously. Sam Cavendish, she declared. It's a right pleasure ta meet ya, it is. Ain't hardly met none o' Jackie's family, outside her ma. An'... hello, who's this? More members o' yer family? The newcomers were introduced around by the other Sam as Mercedes Malone and William Stone, so most likely they weren't. After shaking hands, and possibly checking both of them out just a little more than was strictly proper, she plopped back down next to Jackie as Erik went to answer the door. Samantha offered both the new guests a mug of coffee. Here, warm yerselves up. Ah'll see 'bout graphin' a garage in a minute. She took her seat, looking both of them over. Y'all sound like Americans, if'n y'don't mind me sayin'. Where y'from? Chicago, William said, sipping his coffee. Samantha's expression changed suddenly, becoming softer and far more sympathetic. Oh. Ah see. Yer people from there? Originally, Ah mean? William looked at her curiously. Well, yes. There have been Stones there practically since Fort Dearborne was built, back in 1803. Ah'm so sorry ta hear that, Samantha breathed. Ah mean, you musta been one o' th' lucky ones. Ah mean, damnit, Ah'm... She took a deep breath. Did... did any of yer people survive? Or was it jes' you? What? William drew back a little, curiousity turning into concern. What do you mean? Did something happen? Well, not that Ah've heard. Now Samantha was looking at him curiously as well. Ah mean, Ah'm pretty sure th' city's bein' rebuilt still. But if yer people been there since 1803, well... She shrugged uncomfortably. Ah mean, th' Martians fair destroyed th' whole o' th' city back in '98.