Gatherings, Part 2

"What do you mean, you couldnt' find Lich's body?!"

A Yursarsh cultist flinched as Adamantoise, in dark purple robes and in a form reminiscent of a humanoid turtle, snapped at him. The cultist fiddled with his fingers, carefully thinking about how exactly to phrase the next few words in a way that would not end in him being gutted by his boss.

"Well, you see," the cultist started, voice surprisingly steady as Adamantoise glared, "Yursarsh did send him after the Triden Griffons after they became more than just a threat and defeated Cerebus. And he did do a great job at defeating most of them. But he made fatal mistake and, well."

"Well? What happened?"

A deep breath. "He got bisected by Alex, sir. He's been dead for years now, and he's considered Undead anyway. No body, no soul, no chance of even shoving someone's other soul inside of him to use as a puppet or something."

Adamantoise slammed his fist on the wall. "Damn that knight! Lich could have actually been USEFUL for avenging our god and possibly taking his place, but then THAT happens! Then Nue finds herself with her worst enemy as his familiar, Orochi is hardly the cunning beast that almost conquered all of Levia and revived Yursarsh anymore, and Regal... It was a mistake to ressurect him. Utterly useless!"

As several cultists watched as their leader broke a hole in the wall in anger, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

"I suppose I have no choice but to revive Pigface, and I have the perfect body to bring his soul back in. And of course, we still have the Shadow Dragon- foolish knight didn't even finish him off!" Adamantoise grinned. "Soon, I will be able to enact my revive! With Pigface, the dragon, and Lilith-"

"Oh, me?"

A large lamia slithered into the room, scales as blue as the  deep sea. Her hair was tied neatly in a bun, with piercing blue eyes staring right at Adamantoise.

Adamantoise turned to her and snapped, "Yes, you! You're one of the few that weren't outright killed by them, capable of getting revenge for being humiliated!"

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Who said anything about revenge?" she asked, crossing her arms and casting a glare upon the turtle man. "Honestly, being beat one time is enough. And think about it: do you really think getting revenge is going to bring Yursarsh back?"

"Of course not! We do need to establish who will be our leader, but we need to get rid of-"

"The thorns at your side?" Adamantoise nodded, and Lilith gave a loud groan. "Okay, listen to me for two seconds: First, killing them will just have some other heroes later on- or sooner, if you count their friends- gut you like a pig and have your head on a pike. And two, when has revenge as a motive ever worked out for anyone? Especially any villain?"

The cultists shuddered as Adamantoise towered over Lilith  and roared, "You dare question me?! I am the one leading the charge, doing everything I can to bring back the glory of Yursarsh, and you speak to ME like that?"

"Nice way of dodging the question," came the curt reply. "Guess you can't name any, so can you drop this and get an actual job? I got a nice job at the Golden Geese as a waitress and I'm pretty sure you'd make a good entertainer or something. Or maybe get a hobby; I hear knitting's all the rage these days. Anything to make you think about life or, well, not revenge on a knight who could, quite frankly, Ultima your ass to non-existance if you pushed him." The lamia paused for a second before she added, "And that's if Xavier didn't already drop meteors on you like they were sprinkles on a cupcake." Another pause. "And Sarah. Just Sarah. I don't need to say anything else to get the point across, do I?"

With every word Lilith said, Adamantoise fumed more and more, until his face was flush with green. "I will NOT quit just because they seem more powerful than me! I will outsmart them like Orochi once did, and eliminate them and every traitor to our cause! You'll see, Lilith.... You'll see!"

Lilith rolled her eyes again and said, "Oh yeah, I'll see. With a front row seat to your destruction." She gave a more serious look to Adamantoise. "Seriously, though... I'll help you out, sort of. I'm not going to throw myself to the wolves and get killed for your cause, but I'll help you out. But if this all blows up in your face like I know it will, and you're somehow still alive at the end of it? I'm getting you a job in corporate. No ifs, ands, or buts: You will stop focusing on trying to kill someone who is, surprisingly, not actively trying to murder you, and you will live a normal life and I can forget this ever, ever happened. I'm only helping you because you're a friend and I honestly don't want you to get utterly shanked because of your dumb revenge thi-"

Adamantoise beamed with joy. "Ah yes, thank you so much for your assistance! Now, be a dear and fetch that for me, will you?  I must fill in Pigface, and that's no good if he's still dead!"

Lilith stared at him, mouth open in shock, as Adamantoise went along as if she didn't say anything at all. Maybe she shouldn't have been so surprised, but as she slithered off to get that, she couldn't help but feel slighted. She hoped to Ursula that maybe this was all a dream and that she would wake up somewhere in the Bahamas, but she knew that she was going to regret this as much as a friend staying sober in the middle of her best friend's sorority party.

Gatherings, Part 1

"And so, we all meet again."

The darkness shrouded the one of the three people gathered here in the darkest depths of the Demonic Plains, the moon hidden behind the clouds. The only source of light was a candle, a thin, shadow man stretching out from the light provided. The other man illuminated held a bloodstained knife, one hand held to his face to obscure it. Light seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness that surrounded the third and final person, the others barely making out arms extending out from where her face would be.

"Tell me of what happened two years ago," she said, voice as cold as a blizzard storm, "for I see nothing of what I was promised."

The shadow figure fiddled with his fingers, every word breathy as if he has just ran a marathon. "Well, my dear! What an interesting story to tell, to say the least. I have good news and bad news. The good news is: Farmer John was slain, a major threat to your power- our power, really. The bad news, well, ah..."

A snort escaped from the other man as he said bluntly, "But Kit-face and Coony couldn't handle the Kobbers... or the Psychics that arrived. The ritual was left incomplete, and Farmer John used the last of his soul's power to create a theme park for the kids he took care of."

"Yes. Yes, that." The shadow knelt down and let out a long, drawn out sigh. "My deepest apologies. I should have seen the ritual complete, or at least allowed that Feyland Flower distract others away from such matters. At the very least, I could have possessed one of those deliquents and-"

A lightning bolt struck the ground next to the shadow man, the man flinching at the sound.

"And yet, here you are, snivelling to me as if I have full power here," the woman snapped. "You are fortunate, Nightstalker, that I cannot hurt you in your current form, and that I do not have the power to break your curse and kill you for your failure. I trust that you will not make the same mistake again, or else I WILL find a way to do just that."

"Y-yes, my dear lady, of course, I shan't fail you again!" Nightstalker bowed graciously, while his friend impatiently tapped his foot.

"You didn't call us here without reason, did you? I have a very specific mission, and I intend on making sure my target suffers for what they did to me. Rebuffing my love and taking away my one charm... I want to make her feel the same pain she made ME feel."

The woman huffed. "You are too impatient. You will have your chance soon enough, though... I do require those Psychics eliminated. If we are to perform the ritual again, it must be uninterrupted by heroes. And what I heard is that some are close, very close, to achieving Omega level Psychokinesis. Should even one achieve that naturally..."

Winds howled around them, silence reigning for a good minute or two.

"Nightshade, you are to make sure they do not get to this point. Our ally shall do the honors of reaping the souls necessary for the ritual. Preferably one powerful soul, one that can call forth the being from another plane and bind with it, giving us the power to destroy the fey and rule this world."

"It shall be done. And you shall remain here to gather more of your power and drive these demons back to war against the Fey, yes? Perhaps another of your gambits?"

When the clouds moved away, the moon shined down on the woman, revealing the many arms holding orbs, and the smirk on her face.

"Of course. What goddess doesn't use the pawns laid about the board? As long as the queen, rooks, and knights are killed, there will be nothing stopping us from getting checkmate.

What a glorious day it will be for all of us, then, to see to it that Siren is no more."

------------------------------------------

"Trapped. Still trapped here."

"Why weren't we chosen? Why couldn't we escape?"

"How come Missingno gets to have all the fun?"

"Professor, is there any way to make this go faster? Your assistants have been finding parts for this machine for ages.

“ALL IN DUE TIME”

"As per usual, then. I hope it gets done soon... All I see is Ramza marrying a generic White Mage and having an amusement park and I just suddenly wish I was there to congratulate him. It's been too long... I wonder if he remembers me? The me that actually existed? Even though I hardly did anything."

"Hey, hey, hey! I need that thing more! I want to hear all about Missingno's craaaazy hacking adventures when fighting the Society at the very last minute! And that Garlic stuff! Yeah yeah, all that stuff! Super duper cool!"

"Have you any luck contacting... well, one of your actual assistants? You know, the one you said worked with you before. The one you showed me in that photo album?"

“HE AVOIDS ME. ALL HE SEES IS DARKNESS, ALL CONSUMING DARKNESS AND BOTTOMLESS REMOSE.

EVEN THOUGH IT IS I WHO SHOULD APOLOGIZE.”

"Maybe try again. One more time! Maybe he'll see this time. He has to see... And help us. 

Help us see a world that moved on without us... even if it is just for a moment."

----------------------------

PSYCHICPLOT, TOUCHING DOWN JULY 2016!

GLITCHPLOT COMING TO A JUNE NEAR YOUUUUU

A Paper in Vegas

-LAS VEGAS, FEBRURARY, DAYTIME-

Chaos was abound, much too soon after the mysterious appearance of Kamen Rider OOO. You’d think one wouldn’t cause too much trouble too soon after that.

Unfortunately, people were panicking on the streets yet again, staying well out of the way as a group of men in metal, robotic suits walked down the streets. They already destroyed some very fancy apartment complexes that were under construction before moving on to the next. The police weren’t going to touch them with a ten foot pole: if those men could destroy construction projects with one metallic fist, then the police would probably end up with bones crushed to dust. They preferred being alive and not dealing with Kobber-level threats, thank you very much. So their hopes were thrust upon the mysterious hero, whom, for some reason, they did not have on speed dial. They need to fix that, ASAP.

After about the 3^rd complex was demolished, their leader stood before the metal men, fist raised up high. It was easy to spot him, mostly because his metal suit stood out by having flames painted on the bodice, he was 8 feet tall, and his bald head shined the brightest in the sun amongst all of the bald men in his group.

“Listen up!” he said, voice deep and gravelly as he clenched his fist. “We have destroyed those dumb symbols of capitalism, those signs that show that the rich flaunt their riches and don’t even try to help the poor! After all, we know how the prices of those complexes will skyrocket once they’re complete!” The loud yells of affirmation from his fellow baldies was almost deafening. After waving them down and silencing them, he continued, “But we’re just getting started! The rich just love watching us struggle to pay for our things on minimum wage while they feast on caviar and wine every day! They force us to work, even if it means working terrible hours for terrible pay! And we’re not going to take it anymore! We, the Paradisers, are going to dish out the pain and misery they placed on us for years, ten-fold, and create a Utopia from our efforts!” With his fist still clenched, he rose it as high as he possibly could and boomed, “And I, Hammerhead, will lead us to that utopia!”

Hammerhead’s speech sparked roars of approval from his gang, loud enough to scare off birds relaxing on telephone lines and passersby thinking of taking pictures and plastering them all over Facebook. One man, built like a bull, raised his hand and asked, “What’s the plan then, Boss? Is it more than just blowing up apartments?”

Chuckling, Hammerhead grinned and responded with, “We’re going to blow up the apartment of the rich guy who made those apartments! Then we’re going to meet with the mayor and convince him to let the poor eat for free and live in free buildings! And if he doesn’t agree…” A scowl crossed his face as he punched a streetlight, toppling it over a bike rack and the sidewalk. “Then we’ll make him agree! Who’s with me?!?”

“YEAH!” the Paradisers said raising their fists up with their leader.

“Then let’s MARCH!”

And march on, they did, leaving large foot dents around the street and leaving one distraught bike owner to worry. There would be no Kobbers saving this rich person or the mayor, nor any Power Rangers or Kamen Riders. Their doom was assured.

…Or they would be, had the group not stopped at their leaders orders. Hammerhead was sweating bullets, turning to his fellow men and asking, “Does anybody have this rich guy’s address? Or the mayor’s?”

A bucked tooth man pulled out his phone and said, “No, boss! Let me go look it up on Google…”

For several minutes, the group bumbled around in the heat, sweating up a storm in their metal suits as they desperately tried to find these addresses on the internet. Turns out, it’s pretty hard to find any old address for someone without paying up, which Hammerhead was more than happy to grumble about and call it full blown extortion.  A small breeze was their only reprieve from the heat, although it brought with it a piece of paper, slapping one of the men in the face before slowly drifting down onto the ground to rest.

After another minute, one of the men raised his phone triumphantly and said “I found it! I think I know where it is!” He paused to rub his head, then said with a frown, “but they said that the mayor has an army of robots at his disposal. You think we can really convince him to help us? Even forcibly?”

Hammerhead snapped his head towards the recruit, looking like a bull ready to charge as he roared, “Robots aren’t a threat to us! We stole these suits for a reason: They’re powerful enough to take buildings down with a single strike! His robots are as good as scrap metal! You don’t need to worry about something like THAT! Now shut up and lead the way!”

“Y-yessir!”

They were about to head off when another hitch in their plan appeared. The paper that flew into one of their faces slipped in front of them before… standing up? It was hard to tell if it was a living thing or not, since they were looking at it from the front. The paper hopped up defiantly- was it defiantly? Hard to tell from the thin side- hopping and blocking the way wherever Hammerhead stepped.

One of his cronies yelled at the paper, “Hey, you! You’re not one of those Kobber types, are you? You’re as thin as a stick!”

“That’s because it’s a piece of paper, you dummy,” another crony snapped. “Just punch it and it should crumple up!”

“Yeah, just punch it!” piped another. “That’s what it gets for standing in the Paradisers’ way!”

The men got into a battle position until Hammerhead held a hand up. Looking at it from the side, it actually looked like a person! Red cap, bushy mustache, powerful legs… or would be power legs, if they weren’t paper. The paper man blinked, his paper-thin head tilting to the side as looked at Hammerhead with confusion.

No doubt about it: this paper was alive. Hammerhead panicked, thinking, “Damn it, one of those Kobber types are here! They always attract weirdos like this guy! He may look weak, but…” After a moment of deliberation, Hammerhead declared, “Hold on! Let me try to talk this guy down.” He ignored the whispers amongst his men as he turned towards the paper man and said, “Listen: We’re trying to solve the problem of inequality! So many people have to work for terrible pay and hardly get anything with it, while the rich get richer and don’t even care about our plight! Destroying their symbols of inequality and convincing the mayor to fix this is the only way to solve this issue! So you’ll let us through, won’t you?”

The paper man looked like he was speaking, but no words came out of his mouth. Hammerhead nodded along, then he froze. A vein appeared on his head, pulsing with anger.

“What?! You don’t think that’ll solve anything? Why not?!?”

More movement, no words. In fact, the paper man did two hops now, as if exaggerating a point.

“You think that I’m putting people in danger by destroying apartments and that I can’t solve this with violence?! How can you say that, when the rich takes advantage of us?!?”

As Hammerhead grew more furious with this mysterious paper, the Paradisers exchanged glances. Did the boss lose his marbles? They couldn’t hear a thing, although they could see all the veins on their boss’s head threatening to pop at any moment.

One more hop and a defensive stance from the paper was enough to make Hammerhead snap. “Fine!” he said, pointing at the paper man, “If you won’t get out of our way and won’t let us solve this inequality issue, you’re part of the problem!

GET HIM, GUYS!”

They would question why they didn’t just trample over him, but this was their boss they were talking about. He was angry enough without them being disobedient, and they really would like to go back home, alive, in time to watch VEW on TV tonight. After all, it was the VALENTINE’S DAY MASSACRE, and that means a helluva lot more Silence to enjoy! So when they attacked, they fired on all cylinders: metal fists flew towards the piece of paper and smashed into him, one after another after another. They wouldn’t stop firing, smoke bellowing from their suits as they launched more. After a good minute, they stopped, confident that their target was completely crumpled.

However, when the smoked cleared, they saw the paper man crouching, hat over his head, the fists laying all around him. He jumped back on his feet, looking none worse for the wear.

Which absolutely terrified the cronies. Paper should be a complete crumple by now! Blown to bits! Not standing there, super animated, and looking just fine and dandy! “Wh-who ARE you?!?” one of the Paradisers asked, shivering even though it was 75 degrees outside.

The paper man spoke, and the words they heard would be enough to make any small-time villain faint.

“You’re Mario? THE Mario? Like, the Mario Brothers, from Sintendo?!?”

Sintendo, one of the biggest game and toy companies in the world. Sintendo, who had their real live actors and fighters amongst the Kobbers. Sintendo, directly affiliated with the Kobbers.

Maybe not a Kobber, but close enough to one that some of the Paradisers took off like a rocket, screaming like terrified children, or maybe more like they were in a horror movie all on their own. Others were eager to join them, but one glare from Hammerhead told them that would be a horrible idea. So instead, with their confidence deflating like a balloon, they charged towards him like a bunch of football players at a home game.

Might be a problem for some people, but not Paper Mario. As they charged, he folded himself downwards. When they were about to hit him, he sprang up high, showcasing the trademark Ultra Jump as he soared up, then stomped on one Paradiser’s head. Any other kind of paper would crumple up and leave the guy unphased, but no: whatever kind of paper this Mario was made out of, it hit just as hard as Sarah belly flopping off a ten foot building. After knocking that poor man cold, Paper Mario sprang up again, bouncing off each man’s head in turn. Each man stopped to rub their poor, aching heads before the paper man whipped out a hammer and whacked them silly.

Never did anyone think that a simple paper hammer would hurt like a sack of bricks. These guys certainly didn’t!

Two of the Paradisers threw punches, knocking Paper Mario down on his feet. Seizing their chance, they fired a flurry of fists, pushing the paper being farther and farther back. Maybe this thing wasn’t so strong, after all! That was promptly proven wrong when Paper Mario spun in place and punched the fist, sending it back to sender. The mysterious words “SUPER GUARD!” appeared above his head before fading away. Before anyone could question it, Paper Mario was bouncing on their heads again, their faces meeting the pavement, their heads aching like no tomorrow.

Hammerhead’s fury had no bounds. His face was flush with red, veins pulsing, teeth clenched. This damn piece of paper made a fool out of his people. He beat them without beating a brow! He was still standing in HIS way!

You’d think someone who was worried about Kobbers would stop and think, “Hm, maybe I should retreat!” and run like the dickens. Anger, however, has its way of completely fucking up one’s rationality, leaving only that urge for vengeance.

“How DARE you, you piece of SCRAP!” Hammerhead roared with anger, clenching a fist and punching Paper Mario in the face. He cringed, and got another punch to the face for his troubles. “You’re getting in MY way, and you’ll PAY for it!”

Paper Mario folded his arms before he took something out of what looked like his pockets: A block. A big, yellow block, which said “COPY” on it. Hammerhead wasn’t sure what he was up to, but he prepared to charge in and finish this once and for all. He didn’t even care that Paper Mario just hit the block; it’s not like it was going to save him-

The block spawned 5 other copies of Paper Mario, all of which stacked together. Hammerhead didn’t care: he charged anyway, yelling as he tried to use his head to bash this piece of paper and teach him a lesson.

Well… His name was Hammerhead, but he really, really did not expect to get six hammers to the head in quick succession. ”GAH!” he cried out, holding his poor noggin and thanking god that he had such a thick skull. “Why, you-“ He threw out a left hook that was easily jumped over, Paper Mario and his copies taking advantage of it to score in enough jumps to get a 1up mushroom. “DAMN YOU!” His suit heated up, setting his fist ablaze as he punched a copy. He grinned as it went up in flames, the other Paper Marios falling back in surprise.

Hammerhead grinned. “Weak to fire, huh? Perfect chance to try out my new move! You’re as good as GONE!”

He began by spinning his arms in large circles slowly, gradually speeding up. Faster and faster, his arms went, until they were spinning so fast, they caught fire. His focus was solely on those copies, laughing as he pushed himself to the limit. “You’re THROUGH! TASTE THIS!” he said triumphantly as he went and charged once last time.

The arms hit them, burning each and every one into ashes. He laughed and laughed, slowing his arms down and allowing his suit to cool down after that sudden exertion. “I did it! I finished off those paper punks for good! Now nobody will stop me-“

Hammerhead felt something brush against his legs. He looked down and saw a tube of paper between his feet. It rolled back in front of them and unfurled itself, revealing himself as the real Paper Mario.

“H-HOW?!” Hammerhead stammered, anger replaced by fear, breaking into a cold sweat. “You couldn’t have survived that, I DESTROYED you!”

Paper Mario shook his head. Only then did Hammerhead understand.

“Y-you… rolled yourself up and let your copies take the hit…?”

Nod, nod.

“O-oh… Uhm…” Damn. He couldn’t use his arm twister attack so soon; his suit’s overheated. Paper Mario still had that weird Copy block, so he could make more of those copies. And even without them, each hit hurt so much. Was trying to get to the mayor and that rich jerk really worth it, if he had to get through this tough piece of paper to do it?

His heart said yes, but his legs? Oh, they said no. No, no, no, NO way was he going to stay here.

So Hammerhead, leader of the Paradisers, ran all the way back home, crying like a baby. “F-freaking Kobbers!” he said in between sobs. “Why do they always come and ruin plans like mine?!? I-I won’t do this ever again, I don’t want to get hurt more! WAAAH!”

Paper Mario was at least happy that no one else would get hurt today. Seeing that the fight was over, he hit the Copy block again. After all, it was time to drag these guys to the hospital and make sure they were okay. It was easier to make sure they didn’t get into trouble with doctors looking over them, after all!

He just hoped that the peace would last a little longer before he sprang into action again.

A Sunny Day

The forecaster declared warm, sunny days in Burlington, Vermont. Temperatures were in the mid-60s, with only a gentle breeze coming in.

Warm, sunny days.

WARM. SUNNY. DAYS.

Those were a big deal during winter, and everybody at the Degrasso Manor was rejoicing. Maids and butlers zoomed across the long, elegant hallways and up the stairs, covered in a scarlet carpet. Most rushed to wear short sleeved shirts and shorter skirts and shorts, although some carried handfuls of clothes handmade by famous fashion designers and hung them in one mistress’s bathroom. Other servants were already outside, tending to the grand pathway and garden that led up to the manor, putting all their effort into trimming the hedges jousts right and not trample over Lady Degrasso’s favorite designer petunias. She paid the local botanist $30,000 dollars for this particular species, a crossbreed between normal petunias and one of the flowers from the local Feywild. How it sparkled like stars in the sky! How the sparkle of one of their lives would fade out if they ruined it…

One was more eager to seize the day than any maid or butler around. She spent hours upon hours working on her makeup. Foundation, blush, lipstick au naturale, mascara- Okay, maybe not mascara, but definitely sunscreen. Clothes? Why, none other than the highest quality sundress, with sunflowers all around! Hat?  A handcrafted straw hat, made with the finest materials! Everything was coming together, and as she walked out of the bathroom with a grin and her pink hair let down from her shoulders, her servants were right there to bow and curtsey for her.

“Good morning, Miss Valentina!” they said in unison.

“And good morning to you, too, my friends!” Valentina responded with a smile and a curtsy of her own. “Is it still warm outside? Please tell me you haven’t seen a single snowflake in the sky!”

“Not yet, miss!” replied one of the smaller maids, who whipped out a brush and started to run it through her master’s hair. “We did check the weather; there should be no sign of snow at all!”

The maid hardly began before Valentina’s hair was perfectly poufy. Valentina rushed downstairs with flip-flops, heading down into the pantry and gazing upon the world’s largest selection of food. She placed a hand on her chin as she pondered what to eat.

“Soup…?” She turned her head to the right. A tower of soup cans greeted her, as well as those ramen cups and bowls her mother despised with a passion. She turned her head to the left, and instead of soups, cereals of all types towered over her instead, both hot and cold. “Or cereal? I can never decide!”

“May I decide for you, mistress?”

Val looked behind her, and there stood a butler, holding a 20 sided die and a coin. “I don’t have THAT much trouble deciding! But make it quick; I have to bask in the glory of today’s sun!”

A flip of a coin and a roll of the dice later, and she was well on her way on making some extra fancy chicken noodle soup. Just as quickly as she made it, it was gone. Valentina simply had no time to waste! A butler whisked her plate away to the sink as she made a mad dash towards the front door, opening it wide and declaring over the top of her lungs, “FINALLY! IT’S TIME TO SAVOR THIS LOVELY WEATHER!”

Not even a minute after she said that, and dark clouds rolled in from seemingly nowhere. Valentina watched a single snowflake fall from the sky and onto her nose. And then another… and another… and dozens more.

Her eye twitched as she glared at one of the maids.

“Call the weatherman,” she hissed, “and ask him if this was in the forecast.”

When your master is glaring daggers and was one step away from maybe finding a winter spirit and strangling it in cold blood, that was a great time to distract yourself with the task you were given. A very, very good time.

“I can’t even believe it! It snowed! On my perfect day! IT’S STILL SNOWING ON MY PERFECT DAY, ELLEN!”

Ellen frowned as she poured Valentina a steaming hot cup of tea. She didn’t really expect her friend to visit her so soon, but now that she was here, Val was fuming on the couch beside Alan, swaddled up in a sweater with cats all over. Made with alpaca fur, last she heard. “Yeah, that’s a giant bummer,” she said with a sigh, taking a seat on the couch in between the two. “I actually wanted to go bike and see if they had any good deals on chocolate.”

 “And I wanted to go enjoy walking down the strip malls without needing to put on boots and several layers of coats, but oh, look, that precious Lottie person has probably shown up again to ruin it!” Alan scooted away as Valentina drank her tea in one angry gulp. “It’s not FAIR! I just wanted to enjoy the sun and the warmth and not be snowed in for once!”

 Ellen shrugged. “Gotta go with what you got. I might go out and make snowmen; do you want to go grab the local kendo team so you guys can beat ‘em up?”

 Val shot Ellen a dirty look. “How is that going to stop this stupid weather, Ellie?”

 “It won’t, but it might help you feel better! Getting some exercise and having fun with friends are bound to make you a little happier, right?"

 Valentina watched the snow come down in droves, wondering how being outside in the cold would make anyone feel better, wind howling as it passed by the window. For a moment, she thought she heard cold, harsh laugh outside, and she snapped her head towards the window with a scowl on her face.

 There was no one one there. The laugh echoed in Valentina's mind, and her blood boiled as a memory came to the surface: A cold, wintery day like this one, but with snow halfway up to her knees and more falling fast, her layers of coats barely protecting her from the harsh winds. Alan and his puppet, launching strings and flames towards a woman robed in white, while  Ellie tried to sneak  behind her and strike with a lolipop blade.

 She remembered how Alan struggled to keep his powers up when he felt as if his fingers would fall off from frostbite. How bitterly cold it was as the spirit laughed and laughed, distracting them with illusions. How that witch knocked Ellie out cold and tried to drop two feet of snow on her body. The room seemed surprisingly warm as Val’s anger and hatred peaked, remembering how she barely managed to get a team of firemen to rescue Ellie and retreated before the Winter Spirit did something nastier. She would never forget that sneer, that condescending look, that blatant disregard for human life, and that… that THING she said to her…

“Oh, if you didn’t care for winter, maybe you should have moved further south, you frail little butterfly~”

  She noticed that Alan and Ellie were scooting as far away from her as possible now. With a little concentration, she could hear their thoughts.

 “I hope she’s going to be okay.”

 That was enough to snap Valentina out of her vengeful mood, instead plunging her deep into regret. “S-sorry,” she said meekly, holding her teacup close. “I, um, yeah, that was…” She looked down at her tea cup, then back at Ellie. “ANYWAY, more tea, please? It was quite scrumptious!”

 Val was relieved when Ellie sprung right up and said, “You got it! And I’ll bring you some chocolate truffles I got the other day, just you wait!”

As Ellie headed towards the kitchen, Val turned towards Alan and noticed that he was wearing not his usual grimy robe, but a stack of different sweaters, the very top one a pink sweater with hearts all over. “I love your sweaters, Alan,” she said with a timid smile. “They go well with your eyes. I suppose Ellie got them for you?”

He shook his head. “It was… a trade,” he said, voice thin and wispy, as if he were a winter spirit himself. “I made a doll… he made a sweater… and we traded it. I think his name was Sol.”

“Sol Stanton, right?” Excitement ran through Valentina’s veins, but she wasn’t going to let it get the best of her quite yet. “He’s a good writer and a good knitter, it seems! Ah, have you read his latest book, ‘Dancing with Daisies’? “

“No.” Alan looked at her and tilted his head. “What’s it like…?”

Okay, now was the time to let her excitement go. “I’m SO glad you asked! You see, it’s about two women who support each other, since both have mental disorders, and they take up dancing as a new hobby and together they strive to win a dance contest! It’s fantastic, you can really imagine those dances, feel the tension, and ooh, those CONFLICTS with other dance teams and their own lives and flaws and… OOH, so GOOD! I’ll give you my copy if you want to read it! I can always buy another, you know, and I swear you need more books to read and enjoy and-“

“I’m baaack! Hi, guys!”

Val paused, looking behind her and seeing Ellie carrying an armful of chocolates: from Hershey’s to Russel Stover to even Lindor! Ellie set them down and handed Val a bag of Lindor chocolates and said proudly, “I got these for a discount somewhere! I forget where, but it was a really good discount! And they taste as good as any expensive chocolate, promise!” Ellie then pulled out a Hershey bar and tossed it over to Alan. “And there’s your chocolate. You wanted Hershey’s, so you got some!”

Alan nodded his head and opened his chocolate before eating it bar by bar, while Val grabbed a truffle, unwrapped it, and gently placed it in her mouth. Ah, how it melted in her mouth. That was good chocolate. So good, half the bag was gone before she knew it. Not before Alan’s bar was gone, though. Or even before Ellie demolished half of her chocolate stash.

Valentina couldn’t help but savor this moment, reaching her arms around her friends’ shoulders and pulling them in close. “You two are simply the best,” she said with a gentle smile. “Thank you for being here.”

“Aww, you too, Val!” Ellie was eager to hug right back, while Alan just smiled and slumped deeper into the couch. All of them turned towards the window, watching as the snow fell harder and faster. Ellie looked over at Valentina and asked, “Hey, it looks kind of bad out there… want to stay here for a while and play card games? I’m telling you now, I am the local Man Bites Dog champion!”

“Oh, are you, now?” Val grinned, putting her hands together and steeping them like a villain. “Perhaps I should ruin your streak! Or maybe I’ll just show you how good I am at Cards Against Humanity!”

The two girls’ eyes met, confident in their own abilities.

“You’re on!”

“Good, because I wouldn’t leave here without a good fight!”

Although the winds howled outside the door, and Valentina swore she heard the callous laughter of the Winter Spirit, she basked in her own little happy place as if it were the sun’s rays, enjoying the various games she played with her friends.

Her perfect, sunny day was here, and not even a blizzard would take it away.

The Goth, the Puppeteer, and the Bootleg

The Toys R Us was hustling and bustling today, much to the cashiers’ dread. Hundreds of parents were hunting for the best deals on merchandise much like a lion stalks its prey, glaring at the price tags as if the numbers would rearrange themselves out of sheer terror. Kids put their hands on absolutely everything: the pool noodles, the plushies, the Pokémon cards, anything their little mits could reach. One cashier was grilled as he meekly told a customer twice his size that no, the coupon expired yesterday, and it wouldn’t have applied to his 21 boxes of Barbie dolls, anyhow.

In spite of the crowds and children running around in the aisles, there was one who didn’t immediately go through the shiniest, prettiest ones and went straight to the Clearance section. Forget Legos and Transformers, Pokémon and even Barbies; cheap, cheap deals were where it’s at. She got some funny looks from some people staring at her gothic lolita clothing and her big, black, long pigtails, but she paid them no mind as she grabbed a bag of patchysaurs with a glee matched only by a kid getting an N64 for Christmas, grinning from ear to ear.  She snagged herself some cheap Crayola Airbrushes and a plush flamingo as she shuffled down Clearance lane, hardly containing her excitement.

And then, her eyes met the one.

At first glance, the girl blurted out, “IS THAT SARAH?!” After all, it did have the traditional white mage robe and side braids! But a long, hard look showed that no, it wasn’t Sarah. The trim around the robe was green, and her hair was a muddy brown rather than a bright, angelic blonde. There was no “Licensed by Sintendo” seal anywhere on the box. In fact, what it DID say was “SARA SIBLING: JOSELYN”.

Upon seeing the 3 dollar tag upon the box, the girl snagged it up and ran to the register with her goodies, giggling like she was five again, more than eager to get home and unbox this beauty of a bootleg.

Biking around Burlington, Vermont was a breeze. Everybody was more than happy to watch where they’re going, and the girl was more than happy to use hand signals and give a hearty heads up. Sure, biking in a dress was asking for trouble, but there was nothing better than feeling the breeze against her face, her haul of toys sitting in a basket next to several chocolates and lollipops. She hummed the whole way through, up until she reached a bright yellow house, complete with a shaded porch and garage. In no time at all, she hopped off and rolled her bike over to the garage, opening the door on her own and setting her bike to the side. Not even a minute later, and the girl was at the front door, swinging it open with a grin on her face.

“IIIIII’M HOME!” she said happily, stretching out her arms as far as she could.

“About time you got your butt over!” a voice replied. The girl turned towards the source: a tiny red devil marionette, holding a pitchfork in one hand while strings moved him about. “Any longer and we would have been watchin’ that dumb ‘FINDING BIGFOOT’ show for the hundredth time!” The puppet stomped his little foot as he yelled, “They ain’t even found him yet! You get nukes landin’ in Florida, oversized worms in Vegas, and a freakin’ Hydra commanding several jackasses in New York, but you can’t find one goddamn Sasquatch?! My GRANDMA could hunt ‘em down better than they can!”

As the Devil threw his tantrum, the gotho-loli was more than happy to step into the kitchen and set down her goods, freeing Joselyn from her cardboard prison. “They’ll find him eventually!” the girl said as she headed towards the living room. “It won’t be too long, now! I heard that some people found the Jersey Devil hanging out in the mountains here, so maybe if they look around here, they’ll-“

 “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, come ON!” snapped the Devil. “You know damn well they won’t come to a dump like this! Oh, suuure, we have the Mountains and the Trees and yadda, yadda, yadda, but NO! It’s also full of freak shows like us, and no sane person wants to be around us! Let me tell you the truth: They don’t want to deal with no real Sasquatch, they wanna keep chasin’ these rumors and bullshit and make people THINK they’re going to find it. They don’t even have the balls to even FIGHT o-“

 In a moment, the chocolate from the kitchen flew into Ellie’s hands and formed themselves into a small hammer. She grabbed it and gently thunked the puppet on the head. She set it aside and picked him up, walking right into the living room. There were a few paintings of nature set on the white walls, with a 40’’ HDTV mounted on the wall.

Sitting on a green couch, with the puppet strings leading to him, was a boy with dirty blonde hair, strings tied around his fingers, most of his body hidden under a grimy brown coat much bigger than he was. His focus was entirely on the TV, paying no heed to the girl as she placed the Devil on his shoulder.

“You’re getting too mad over it, Devil,” she said as the little puppet unleashed a torrent of swears. “Let them do what they want! After all, it’s their show! We’ll just handle the really crazy stuff in the state, like giant grill monsters and smog-powered beasties!"

The Devil nodded his head, although he added with a grumble, "As long as we're not the ones saving those wannabe sashquatch hunters from a buncha Bigfeet and Green Giants. Not like they'll find 'em anytime soon, those show-offs."

Ellie opened her mouth to contest, but closed her mouth and instead  urned towards the boy and smiled. Taking a seat beside him, she said,  “Oh, almost forgot: Hi there, Alan! You doing okay? How’s the family?! You want any chocolate?!?”

Alan could feel the excitement emanating from her, eyes wide as she held her new doll close. He could hardly keep eye contact when he replied quietly, “I’m okay… didn’t speak to them… and no, but thank you.”

“Like they’d let us speak to them, with how stupid busy they are!” the Devil butted in, mouth a-clacking. “There’s four jobs between the two of ‘em, and they can’t even keep us fed! What kind of parents even-“

Another gentle doink of the chocolate hammer. “They’re having a hard time, aren’t they?” Ellie said sternly, shooting a glare at the puppet. “And my family volunteered to take care of you guys, so don’t say that they abandoned you! It’s just hard, since…” She furrowed her brow and put a hand on her chin. “Last I remember, they never went to college, right?”

Alan sunk further into his coat, a turtle retreating into his shell. “Y-yeah… so they don’t really make much money. And the apartment’s kind of…” He trailed off, unable to look Ellie in the eye. She could have sworn he muttered a “Sorry” under his breath.

An awkward silence fell between the three of them, although the TV still played softly in the background. Knowing full well she shouldn’t talk about Alan’s family any longer, she held Joselyn to his face and said cheerfully, “Guess who I fooound~!”

Devil glanced over at the doll. “Isn’t that that whale of a medic? Bet she weighs enough to make an earthquake!”

“Yes and no!” Ellie happily waggled the doll’s arms as she said, “She’s actually a bootleg of her! They got a lot of details wrong but she’s still SUPER cute! Her hair’s soft and she’s pretty cuddly!”

 The puppeteer peeked out from his coat, strings detaching from this devil marionette as he reached out and held the doll in his hands. Ellie watched as he examined it thoroughly, feeling every inch of cloth and fabric on the doll’s person. After a very long examination, he said, “Good quality… eyes are kind of off… actually kind of skinnier than a Sarah doll should be… Overall, pretty good for a bootleg.”

“I thought the same thing! Do you want it, or should I keep it? I know I have a collection of bootlegs up in my room but I wanted to ask you first because you’re SO into dolls and it’s not very often you get any and oh my god-“

Ellie spoke a mile a minute, the rest of her words turning into a jumble of excitement. Alan looked down at the doll one more time, then allowed the strings that controlled the Devil to attach themselves to the Joselyn doll. As he manipulated the doll’s movements, Ellie took that as a sign that he definitely wanted it for his collection.

“Ta-daaaa! A new friend for a good friend! I hope you guys get along really well!” The gotho-loli stood up, spun in place, and posed with a smile. “Another job well done for Ellen Fields! But now, I have a new mission!” Another pose. “To make LUNCH! MACARONI AND CHEESE, HEEERE WE GOOOOO!”

The rest of the day flew. She could hardly remember anything past that, aside from her parents making a chocolate lava cake Alan and even the Devil enjoyed (although he hardly liked the bath that followed). All Ellie knew was that today was a good day for everyone… and that the next would be just as good, if not better!

Psychics and Demons and Fey (Oh my!) Part 4: Shadow Monster

 Sammy expected something really off when she stepped into Macy’s: a giant monster, terrorizing little old ladies as they stood in line with hundreds of coupons ready to launch and take 80% off their entire $300 purchase, devouring young women who were getting a total makeover by Estee Lauder employees in preparation of a nice date, clothes racks and sweaters strewn about haphazardly as they made their way through the two-story clothes behemoth. Her hair started sparking at the thought of it, thinking that if it was just a mindless monster, all she had to do was take it down.

 Well… at least there were screaming ladies? However, Sammy and Carlos didn’t see any sign of this danger, unless the danger was having a heart attack at these low, low prices. It looked the same as always: dozens of clothes racks lined up next to each other, the long hallway devoted to only the best makeup and perfumes within a normal person’s price range, the northern side filled with racks of shoes with several women rifling through the clearance heels at record times, and the whole top floor devoted to things that weren’t actually clothes, but they were nice little things to have. Like, say, boomboxes and DJ sets.

The excitement in Sammy died as fast as it came, replaced by a mix of wariness, anxiety, and confusion. After all, there didn’t seem to be any panic yet. She did notice as she was walking past the makeup, perfume, and jewelry section, however, several diamonds that were supposed to be on display not there at all. The glass showed no sign of anyone breaking in. Employees whispered to one another, all of them wide-eyed and wary. She barely heard one of them say in a panicked tone, “But I just turned my back for a second, I swear! One minute, they were there, then I turned around and saw something black for a second and then they were gone!”

Another one added, “One of the wigs went missing, too! And one of the hats! I swore I put those things on the mannequins this morning!”

Sammy glanced over and asked nervously, “You think that thing we’re after did that?”

The elder psychic looked down at the jewelry case, listening carefully to the employee’s testimony, then said, “Definitely. This one’s a sneak, considering it’s not making an outright mess of everything like most demons do.” He looked at the employees for a moment before he asked, “Excuse me, do you have an intercom or a megaphone I could borrow? Angela Stanton detected demons here-“

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the girls took off like a rocket. Wherever she went, she came back with a megaphone and handed it over, pale as a sheet.

“Thank you. Miiiight want to get out of here, because things are going to get nuts.” Advice that the employees were all too happy to take, taking as many customers and fellow employees out with them. Carlos took a deep breath before pressing a button on the megaphone. “Attention, shoppers! An Omega Level Demon has been detected in this very viscinity! Please evacuate as quickly as possible so that the Psychics can handle the threat! I repeat, an Omega Level Demon has been detected, so please evacuate as quickly as possible!”

Never did Sammy ever see anyone drop $20 shoes or $10 shirts that fast and run straight out the door so fast. Not exactly the chaos she envisioned, but at least people were out! After a few minutes, she turned towards Carlos and asked, “The demon’s that powerful? That’s like… Tiamat-levels of bad, right?”

 “God, I hope not,” he replied, a green aura surrounding him as he scanned the area, making sure everybody that wasn’t a psychic was gone, and trying to see any sign of the demon anywhere. “I just said that to get everybody out fast. This demon wasn’t even identified, so we don’t even have a power rating for it.”

Knowing that the threat wasn’t quite that dangerous boosted Samantha’s confidence a little bit, but she had to ask, “What is their deal, anyway? Are they anything like… well, in video games?”

Carlos frowned, putting on his jacket and hat before turning his full attention to the younger psychic. “Their deal is a long story, but the abridged version is that demons hate the fey, fey hate the demons, they’ve been in a war for god knows how long, and demons are more eager to manipulate and even eat humans in order to get the edge. And no, they are nowhere like their video game counterparts, unless you mean like the big villains. In which case, yes, they’re completely like that, if not worse.” Sammy couldn’t help but feel horrified. It must have shown on her face, because the next thing Carlos said was, “Yeah, I feel you. Things are weirder in Augusta and they feel much more daunting when you’re just starting out.”

Sammy thought she saw something moving in the shadows, but she figured it was just her nerves getting the best of her. “D-do you ever get used to it?” she asked meekly, eyes darting around the room, unable to keep eye contact with her friend.

 Carlos smiled gently and opened his mouth to say something, but things became a little darker around them, his smile fading as it was replaced with a look of irritation.

“Aaaand the fun begins,” he grumbled.

Sammy didn’t know what he was talking about until she turned around with him and saw it: a monster with onyx eyes and an onyx necklace, a wig plastered on its head with a chapeau keeping it right in its place. A toaster replaced one hand while a blender replaced the other, while an electric blanket was tied around its shoulders, a tennis ball launcher strapped to its back. Designer jeans were kept on its skinny waist with a golden designer belt, and on its feet-

“Wait, are those JIMMY CHOOS?!” Carlos burst out,  pointing at the blue and gold shoes that adorned its feet. “Are you REALLY wearing thousand-dollar sneakers?! How did Macy’s even GET this?!?” After a moment, he composed himself, and said, “Okay, aside from really expensive shoes, I’m guessing there’s something you want.”

 Sammy looked at Carlos like he was mad. Was he really about to talk sense to a monster? It didn’t show any signs of aggression… and she was a little surprised to hear a disembodied voice. It wasn’t from the monster, at least.

“Ah, someone who wishes to speak before he strikes!” the voice said with a small chuckle. “Splendid, splendid, to see a man who could see reason. Unlike those who strike down my kind without the benefit of knowing our true intentions.”

“Woo, don’t I feel just fantastic about that?” Carlos groaned. “Just get to the point; I don’t want anybody getting hurt if I can help it.”

From the corner of her eye, Sammy could see the shadows twist and turn into someone prim and proper, complete with a cane and a top hat. “But of course,” said the shadow, “I wouldn’t wish to waste so much of your time. You see, my associate here and myself are searching for someone. Someone whose appearance was advertised throughout this building, hailed as a heroine for all to admire… Perhaps you know of her and where, exactly, she is?”

 The answer came quickly to Sammy: they were looking for Siren. It took all her courage to stop herself from shuddering, keeping a façade of confidence as she listened. Carlos replied with a shrug. “You can’t expect me to keep up with where the ever-famous heroine of Augusta is, can you?”

 “A heroine to you, but a monster to several of my own kind, who would gladly curse us and let us live our lives in misery,” the shadow hissed, his monster aquaintance clenching its sharp teeth as hard as it could. “Who would slaughter hundreds of thousands under the banner of righteousness, believing herself to be bettering the world when the reasons she fights is as flimsy as the cheap cloths that rip and tear after just one wash. Who would ruin lives over one mere mistake-“

Carlos rolled his eyes and interrupted with, “No, nope, nuh uh, stop right there. Nice words, but ‘mere mistakes’?! I’m sorry, I didn’t know a businessman who monopolized a market and drives up prices and steals an opal made a ‘mere mistake.’ Or a banker who treats his son like garbage and kidnapped several fey for his own personal art museum made a ‘mere mistake’. And that guy who tried to steal an expensive diamond from the museum the other day making a ‘mere mistake’. Mistakes are accidents, and none of those were accidents. Nice try on making Siren look worse than she really does. Still don’t know where she is, anyway.”

The monster took a step forward, Sammy flinching as it raised its toaster arm, ready to smash them. The shadow shrugged and let out a dramatic sigh. “Such a shame that even you are blinded by her. I almost thought you could be reasoned with, but like the gaggle of women who idolize her, you only see the illusion she has weaved: a righteous fey who stops the wicked. On the contrary, she is condemning us as ireedeemable and ruining our lives when we only do what we must.” The shadow turned towards his friend and said, “Well, I dislike violence, but my acquaintence… he introduced himself as the Mannequin, yes? Ah, well, he seems eager to let off some steam. Perhaps a beating will loosen your tongues.”

The shadow snapped his fingers, and the Mannequin brought down the toaster, Sammy and Carlos rolling out of the way just in time. Sammy noticed that the shadow was gone, leaving only this monster for them to deal with. It turned towards her and swung its arm, the younger psychic barely limboing under it before straightening up, trying her hardest to muster up her powers.

Carlos was none too happy about this, yelling out far too late, “Yeah, blame the person who did that instead of changing yourself for the better! Because it’s their fault and not yours that you’re-“ One swing of the blender and he stopped himself, taking a moment to push back with his telekinesis. “Why do I even bother?” he grumbled, focusing his power on the monster’s legs and knocking it off balance. “Not like he’d listen, anyway.” He turned towards Sammy and asked, “Hey, you doing alright?”

“Sort of?” came the awkward reply as the toaster arm swept at her. This time, it caught her on her on the side, Sammy flinching as she held her ground. “Not so much now? But I can’t use my powers at all, and I don’t get why!”

Carlos grabbed Sammy and rushed towards the shoe section, barely keeping his hat on as he reached the clearance shoe rack. The Mannequin pursued with a speed that made Carlos break into a nervous sweat.  “Remember, Alphas have a harder time with their powers!” He said hastily, the green aura around him returning as he grabbed a bunch of heels with his telekinesis and hurling them at the monster’s face. It staggered backwards, groaning in pain and holding its makeshift hands to its face. Relieved to have a few moments to talk before it chased them again, he continued, “You remember how Kenny’s fire fizzled out against the Petal Kracken? Alpha powers fuck up, and fuck up often. You’re no exception. All you can really do is try to concentrate just enough for a little burst of power and launch it. Lather, rinse, and repeat until it gets going again or until you spontaneously become a Beta. Either or is fine.”

Sammy shuddered at the thought of having to face demons with unreliable powers, praying that for once, it’d work before she was mincemeat. “Isn’t there a better way or something? I mean, you were an Alpha once, right?”

“Trust me,” Carlos said with a frown, “my experience as an Alpha was a lot different. I can’t say it’s a one-size-fits-all, but it’s the best advice I can give right now.” His eyes widened as the monster shook things off and bound towards them with a single leap. “Aside from MOVE!”

Sammy was more than happy to duck as Carlos moved right out of the way, the Manequinn crashing right into the shoe rack. She took a few steps backwards as the monster slowly got up, dazed from getting another face full of heels and platforms. Maybe this was her chance; this thing was vulnerable, weak. It’s a perfect time to strike! Her hands sparked up as she said, “LOOKING FOR A BRAND, BRO? TRY THUNDERBRAND!”

She shot out a ball of electricity, feeling more confident than ever. The monster shrieked, convulsing a little before it slowly turned on her. It didn’t seem paralyzed or stunned. In fact, it was grinning, the appliance plugs for the electric blanket, blender, and toaster sparking.

Upon realizing what she just did, the sparks around her hand died out as she said, “I fucked up big time, didn’t I?”

All three plugs lashed out at once, zapping Carlos and Sammy over and over, like angry bees. The elder psychic swore under his breath, flinching as the plugs struck, while the younger… Well, she was a little surprised to know that she hardly felt a thing. In fact, she was a little energized from that! However, she knew full well not to charge up the demon more than she had to, so she took out her Yo-yos and knocked two of the plugs away from Carlos. He caught the third with his powers, only letting go when the Mannequin yanked it away.

Sammy flung her yo-yos with a flourish, aiming for the face. The Mannequin rose the blender, though, and deflected it, taking her off guard. The blades inside began to whir as it tried to jab Sammy and show just whether it could blend a human or not. She barely caught it, but her fingers being far too close to the blade for comfort was really not helping her nerves. She pushed back, trying not to lose any body parts today when a boot soars and knocks the hat and wig right off the monster’s head.

The blades stopped as the monster gasped and hurried to get its wig right back where it should be, dragging itself to the closest mirror to fix it up. Sammy felt a tug on her arm as she was yanked over to Carlos’s side, the elder psychic leaping over a table full of men’s shirts and ducking under it, keeping a close eye on the monster as it gave itself a few touchups.

Sammy crouched down with him, watching as he grabbed a few shirts, unfolding them and tying one shirt’s sleeve to another one, one by one, until he had a long line of shirts. “What’s up with that?” she asked as he tied one end of the line of shirts to the table and tied the other to the bottom of a pillar on the other side. “That looks long enough to strangle that guy!”

“My powers aren’t strong enough for that,” he sighed as he finished up his work. “Least, not for a demon. You’ll see what’s up, if this monster falls for it.” He pointed past the line and said, “Sorry, but could you stand over there and be loud and obnoxious? I want that guy running and running FAST.”

She blinked, turning back towards the line of shirts, then back to him. With a nod, she stood way past the line and blurted out, “HEY, YOU! YEAH YOU, WITH THE UGLY WIG! BET YOU CAN’T READ ME WITH THOSE UGLY ASS SHOES, BRO!”

The Mannequin turned to her and snarled, turning back to the mirror to adjust its chapeau before charging towards her,  toaster heated up and blender blades whirling. It didn’t even bother to look down, one of its feet catching on the shirt line. Sammy moved out of the way just in case, but the result was beautiful regardless: it fell flat on its face and skid right through clothes racks before slamming into a wall.  Sammy couldn’t help but cheer, while Carlos wiped the sweat off his brow.

The monster stumbled on up, dazed. A yo-yo to the face and another clothesrack to the gut didn’t help at all. The electric plugs sparked angrily as the Mannequin let out a roar. The tennis ball launcher moved, phasing through the monster’s chest before taking aim at the psychics and letting loose with a flurry of balls. Sammy was nailed by a few balls before she took cover  behind a wall of sweaters and t-shirts, while Carlos was desperately trying to catch as many as he could. She counted about 25 before one nailed him in the forehead, the rest falling to the ground as his power failed him temporarily. The Mannequin took its chance and charged towards him, blender ready to be jammed into his head.

“FUCK OFF, BRO!”

Or not, as Sammy flung her yo-yo, activating the blades before it clashed against the blender. The blender cracked, distracting the Mannequin just enough for it to step on a tennis ball and trip over backwards. Carlos jumped away in shock, his hat falling off in his haste to get away. As the monster struggled to get back up without tripping on another tennis ball, Carlos flashed Sammy a thumbs up before retreating to a perfume stand. Frustrated, the Mannequin’s electric blanket flared up for a second before it activated its blender once more, blending up each and every tennis ball in its way… and Carlos’s hat, while it was at it.

The elder psychic flinched. “Good thing it’s my hat and not me,” he said with a bit of relief, Sammy soon joining him in hiding out behind the counter. “Though now I have to get a new hat.”

“I’ll buy you one once this guy is done and over with!” Sammy offered with a smile. She then looked towards the monster and asked, “How the hell do you deal with guys like these? I mean, you said you’re a Beta… and I’m an Alpha. We’re hardly doing anything to this guy!  We’re not that strong! How are we supposed to deal with this?”

Carlos shook his head and pointed out, “Sammy, you’re thinking about this all wrong.” Sammy raised an eyebrow, unsure of where he was going with this. “I admit: we’re actually like a corgi and a labrodor going up against Cerebus. We’re below-average psychics.”

A sense of dread took over the young psychic. “Then what are we doing? We’re going to lose then, aren’t we? Why are we-“

“Not done yet, Sams,” Carlos said calmly, in spite of the ever-threatening sound of a blender on a rampage. “I admit that we’re weak, but a friend of mine put it this way: It’s not about how powerful you are, even though it certainly helps.”

As The Mannequin rose to its feet and leaped in front of the perfume counter, smoke fuming from the electric blanket and the toaster, Carlos’s eyes flared green and yanked every perfume he could possibly get with his telekinesis, all of them hovering around them.

“It’s how you use that power that’s important.”

The perfumes crashed against the monster’s face, the toaster, and the blanket. The heat from the blanket and toaster was enough to ignite them, flames traveling down The Mannequin’s back and up its arm. The Mannequin screeched and dropped to the ground, rolling around and flailing desperately to try to put out the flames. Sammy’s eyes lit up with amazement at Carlos’s feat, hair sparking up and frizzing from excitement and a single “squee” escaping her lips.

The monster soon got up, some of the flames on its back extinguished, although part of its wig was burned away. In its anger it now shot pieces of extra-burnt toast towards Carlos and Sammy, along with an extra helping of tennis balls.  Sammy cut through some of the tennis balls using her bladed yo-yos, while the toast was swiftly returned to sender courtesy of Carlos. Some of those hard, super burnt toasts slammed into the blender, expanding the cracks already made. Sammy lashed at the cracks with her yo-yos once more after Carlos’s assault, outright destroying the glass around it. One more yo-yo attack, and the blender blades were broken off.

“Got him on the ropes now!” Sammy said with a grin, watching the monster back away and snarl. “Whatcha say to that, shadow man? Gonna leave him here by himself or are you gonna finally show up yourself and help?”

She saw him. She saw the shadows cast by the monster twist into the shape of a gentleman, although she could see a dark aura surrounding it.

“It seems like you’ve allowed your small victories to get to your head, dear,” it said in a condescending tone, wagging the cane it held in its hands. “After all, this is a monster of my own creation, no? Through my power, it was given life. I have only given it a mere fraction of my power… and you wish to be proud over defeating such?”

“Ah, um, well…” The sparks were dying again, and Sammy hated it. Was he actually stronger, and he was just holding back? Was she just getting hyped up over nothing? She just wasn’t sure how to feel anymore.

The shadow tsked. “I thought as much. You wish to be proud, while underestimating your opponent. After all, I held back, because I do not wish to kill those who would supply such valuable information on where my enemy is. A dead man cannot tell secrets, but a beaten, defeated man? Oh, yes, they tell much, wouldn’t you agree?”

Carlos groaned. “So that’s how you operate: You try to be as reasonable as possible when you can get something you want, and if that clearly isn’t working, violence. Theeen if that doesn’t work, just blurt out ‘OH BY THE WAY I’M HOLDING BACK!’ and try to demoralize whoever is in your way so that they give up.  Can I please deal with someone who isn’t trying as hard as they can to be the biggest goddamn heel in the 21^st century? No?! Maybe?!?”

“Ah, but I am only speaking the truth, am I not? You have underestimated me and my acquaintence, so it would work in your favor to give up. You cannot hope to defea-“

“Is he still talking, Sammy? Oh god, he’s still talking. Someone save us, I’m getting a headache listening to him.”

Sammy was inclined to agree, but she heard something. Something that sounded rather like a noblewoman. After all, who could mistake that loud “OHOHOHOHOHOHO” for anything else? The monster’s head perked up in spite of the remaining flames on its back and its broken blender, while the shadow behind it trembled. Carlos looked like he was unsure of whether to cry, throw something in frustration, or thank whatever god there was for what happened next.

The laughter became louder and louder.

“When the world desires a savior from the darkest night…” said a voice.

Sammy could have swornd she saw glitter. It was glitter, right?

“And demons dare to devour the hopes and dreams of all…”

The Mannequin growled, turning its head towards the source of noise.

“Only one fey can stand up to such, and bring the light into the hearts of men once more~!”

As the one who spoke made herself known, the shadow spoke, venom hanging on every word.

“If it isn’t the fabled heroine herself.”

“ ‘Tis I, indeed~” Siren replied with a flourish, holding her fan up to her mouth. “So kind of you to pay a visit! I’ve been wondering when you’d manipulate another poor sap into doing what you wish, Nightstalker.”

“Manipulate?”  the shadow, Nightstalker, snorted. “No, I did not manipulate him. On the contrary, I only offered him a deal in which we would assure the destruction of the person who ruined our lives. You spared me the trouble of finding you, so I must thank you for that. It looks like your friends’ efforts were all in vain, in their attempts to protect you!” The dark aura around Nightstalker intensified as the Mannequin reared up, invigorated by the thought of bringing down Siren. “PERISH!”

The monster charged her so fast, Sammy wasn’t able to get a warning out in time. She stared in horror, unsure of herself, unsure if she could even do anything, just… unsure. It was over, wasn’t it?

Then… the monster phased right through Siren, like she was some sort of hologram. It tumbled onto the ground, its angry yells muffled by the floor. Carlos didn’t look as confused as Sammy did, using his telekinesis to bring her over and taking off with her. Siren’s laugh refurburated throughout the room, several more Sirens popping out of thin air and swooping down onto the Mannequin, screeching and launching multicolored flames at it.

“Just like her to use an illusion for her grand entrance,” Carlos said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Saved me the trouble of having to hurl a coat rack at him to make him stop talking!”

 “I’m… guessing you think what he said was bull?” Sammy asked, her friend leading her quickly up the escalator to the second floor, where they could watch fey and demon fight with magic and tennis balls.

“Pretty much. He was trying to psyche you out because he was being a sore loser.”

“You think Siren can handle him?”

Carlos shook his head and sighed. “She can hold him off, but I’d rather finish that guy off fast. The longer this drags out, the more dangerous the situation will get. Both of us can’t keep this up for long, and Siren can’t handle too many direct hits. Not to mention, that guy could end up slipping out of Macy’s and into the mall, and we really don’t want that.”

Sammy imagined the Mannequin escaping into the crowds, causing collateral damage and injuring several cosplayers. Definitely not something she wanted to happen. She looked around for anything that could be of help: radios? Nah. Kitchenware? Maybe if Carlos threw them hard enough. Electrical outlets?

“Hey, Carlos! That fuck’s a shadow, right?”

Carlos opened his mouth to respond, but a loud screech and the sound of a body hitting a wall made him cringe. He did manage to reply after a minute of rubbing his ears. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Shadows don’t show up in total darkness! So could I short circuit the outlets and make the lights go out here?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Sams, but you’d have to be at least a Delta to shove enough electrical power in there to trip the breakers reliably. Good idea, though!”

That was out. Her eyes darted around, cringing with every scream and thud and crunch that happened downstairs. “The hell keeps screaming?”

“Siren, unless that monster knows how do acapella. She’s an audiokinetic.”

“Omega level?” Sammy eyed the DJ and Boombox set now. It was already out of the box and being displayed. Maybe that could work?

“Um, we usually don’t rank Fey abilities the same way we do with Psychics; if we do, it’s their power level in general rather than any specific thing. But sure, let’s go with that. What’s up?”

 Sammy pointed towards the boombox, grinning and rubbing her hands together. “Get Siren up here, then! And maybe lure that fuck over here, too. I got an ideaaaa~”

Carlos looked at the boombox, then glanced down at Siren, now slapping the Mannequin in the face with her fan before getting a barrage of tennis balls to the chest. He smiled at Sammy before he spotted a golden dress downstairs. Using his telekinesis, he grabbed it and held it up high in the light, calling out to Siren, “HEY, SIREN! LOOK UP!”

Siren huffed and crossed her arms, swiftly dodging out of way of a toaster punch and snapped, “Carlos, don’t you see I’m in the middle of vanquishing-“

She stopped in midsentence, hypnotized by the shimmering golden dress.

“MINE!”

She swiftly flew up and flew right through, tackling the dress midair and flopping onto the second floor. After growling like a dog that didn’t want to let go of their new toy, Siren cleared her throat and asked, “I was in the middle of defeating him, Carlos! Explain why you needed to interrupt!”

Carlos hurried over to the boombox where Sammy was, although now she was plucking shades off some of the mannequins and tossing one pair over to Carlos. Carlos raised an eyebrow before he slipped them on, then grabbed the microphone off the boombox and handed it to Siren.

“Gang’s all here, Sammy. What now?”

Sammy grabbed the electrical plug for the set before she slipped her own pair of shades on. “Turn it up to 11! We’re gonna blow his ears out, bro!”

“Oooh, a fantastic idea!” Siren said with a smile. “We shall defeat him with the power of music, and the soothing sound of my voice, yes?”

“Your voice is anything but soothing when you’re screaming, Siren,” Carlos said, turning all the dials he could to max. He turned over to Sammy, worried, and asked, “You sure you want to do this? Your eardrums may get blown out…”

“I’ll worry about that after that fuck’s done for, bro! Besides, I have to thank him for giving me this idea in the first place! He’s gonna regret chargin’ me up, big time!”

The elder psychic opened his mouth to protest, but soon decided to just shrug and let it be. “Whenever you’re ready, Sammy.”

Sammy whistled, hoping that would be enough to catch the monster’s attention. The growling and hissing on the first floor, she took as a sign that the Mannequin heard her. Of course, it leaping several feet into the air and landing in front of them with a THUD, angrier than ever and eager to finish things off, was also a very good sign.

 “What up, bitch?” the electrokinetic said with a cheeky grin. “You ready… to DROP THE BASS?!”

 Both monster and its master stood there, confused, before Sammy used her power to supply electricity to the boombox.

The Mannequin screeched as the joyful screeching overtook him, shaking it to its very core. All the things it collected fell to the ground: the chapeau, the half-burnt wig, the toaster, blanket… everything, as it slowly reverted to its true form: the pathetic, wimpy thief, Bryan Goodman. He collapsed in a heap, clutching his head as he passed out, unable to handle anything more.

Sammy dropped the cord and cheered, “HEEELL YEAH, WE KICKED ASS! TEAM SAMS WINS AGAIN!” She held up her hands, anticipating high fives. Siren was busy doing her laugh, but at least Carlos was able to high five.

“Good job!” he said cheerfully, taking off the shades and gladly taking the moment to relax. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Or at least, I wouldn’t have thought of using a boombox like that.”

“You bet! I mean, I just had to!” Sammy couldn’t help but feel proud of herself. It didn’t last too long, though, as she saw Nightwalker in the shadows of some kitchen appliances. Lightning flew from her hands as she glared at him and said, “Underestimate you, my ass! Now you thinkin’ of running away?”

“Why, of course!” came the shaky, yet somewhat smug reply. “You have foiled my plans, and I have no power without a vessel in this world. Besides, it would be such a shame if I had to manipulate those poor, young ladies pretending to be something they aren’t just to escape, hmmm?”

Sammy clenched her teeth, frustrated at the situation. He was right; he could manipulate them. That’s how he managed to team up with a thief, wasn’t it? And she didn’t know any way to hurt him directly right now. So instead, she said, “Fine, run the fuck away. But next time, I’m making sure to kick your ass, too! Count on it!”

“Oh, revel in this victory all you wish,” Nightstalker replied, “but I highly doubt a lowly girl of your calibur would ever hope to defeat me. But that discussion is best left for another time. Ta-ta for now!”

As the shadows shifted to its normal form, Sammy relaxed. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and saw Carlos’s approving smile. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, although I’m already tired of his trash talk.  I’d say you’re getting the hang of things, if only barely.”

“Guess so, bro.” She smiled back, then turned over to Siren, who was now taking a well-deserved victory nap. “Wow, all that screaming must have tuckered her out, huh? She was pretty cool!”

“Nah, that’s probably just her narcolepsy. Now I’ll have to drag her all the way back home.” Carlos sighed again, but it was more out of relief than exasperation. “I have to make sure to call Angie and Sol and tell them the threat’s been neutralized, then I’ll head out. No, wait, I have to get Angie some Godiva chocolates, first off.”

“And don’t forget a new hat!” Sammy said cheerfully. “Want me to help out? I mean, gotta help a cool guy out! And um,” she added with a more meek smile, “thanks for the pick-me-up, bro. You know, the inspiration. And for showing me those cool tricks. And Siren!”

The elder psychic shrugged it off and said, “I’m only doing what a good friend would do, you know? And since you offered, sure. Though if you find a shirt you like, I can help pay for that. If you want, anyway.”

“Nah, I think I have enough shirts, but come on, let’s hurry and tell everybody it’s okay! Come on, come on, let’s goooo!”

As she led the way towards the mall, Sammy figured that one thing she could be hype about for this celebration.

After all... having a friend support you in a weird time in your life is definitely worth the hype!